datnell UnitierHity Slibcacg Jt^ani, ^tm ^atk Cornell University Library PR 5608.A1 1898 The memoirs of Barry Lyndon, esq., writt 3 1924 013 562 180 WW r4 Cornell University f Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013562180 THE BIOGRAPHICAL EDITION THE WORKS OF WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY WITH BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTIONS BY HIS DAUGHTER, ANNE RITCHIE IN THIRTEEN VOLUMES Volume IV. THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, Esq. THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS CATHERINE: A STORY, Etc [Pape 379 CAPTAIN WALKERS INTRODUCTION TO MORGIANA. THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, Esq. WRITTEN BY HIMSELF THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS CATHERINE: A STORY MEN'S WIVES ETC. BY WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY J. E. MILLAIS, R.A. LUKE FILDES, A.R.A., AND THE AUTHOR HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS NEW YORK AND LONDON 1899 THE BIOGRAPHICAL EDITION OF W. M. THACKERAY'S COMPLETE WORKS Edited by Mrs. Anne Thackeray Ritchie TAe volumes are issued as far as possible in order o_f original fitdtlicatiojt 1. VANITY FAIR 2. PENDENNIS 3. YELLOWPLUSH PAPERS, Etc. 4. BARRY LYNDON, Etc. 5. SKETCH BOOKS 6. CONTRIBUTIONS TO "PUNCH," Etc. 7. HENRY ESMOND, Etc. 8. THE NEWCOMES 9. CHRISTMAS BOOKS, Etc. 10. THE VIRGINIANS 11. PHILIP, Etc. 12. DENIS DUVAL, Etc. 13. MISCELLANIES Illustrated. Crown 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, Uncut Edges and Gilt Tops, $1 75 per volume HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, NKW YORK AND LONDON Copyright, 1898, by Harper & Brothhrs All rights reserved CONTENTS PAQE TEODUCTION ..... . . xiu THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. lAP. I. MY PEDIGREE AND FAMILY — UNDERGO THE INFLU- ENCE OF THE TENDER PASSION ... 3 II. IN WHICH I SHOW MYSELF TO BE A MAN OF SPIRIT 27 11. I MAKE A FALSE START IN THE GENTEEL WORLD . 41 V. IN WHICH BARRY TAKES A NEAR VIEW OF MILI- TARY GLORY ....... 53 V. IN WHICH BARRY TRIES TO REMOVE AS FAR FROM MILITARY GLORY AS POSSIBLE ... 61 n. THE CRIMP WAGGON — MILITARY EPISODES . . 74 [I. BARRY LEADS A GARRISON LIFE, AND FINDS MANY FRIENDS THERE . . . . . .89 [I. BARRY BIDS ADIEU TO THE MILITARY PROFESSION . 99 X. I APPEAR IN A MANNER BECOMING MY NAME AND LINEAGE 106 X. MORE RUNS OF LUCK 117 :l. IN WHICH THE LUCK GOES AGAINST BARRY . .132 [I. CONTAINS THE TRAGICAL HISTORY OF THE PRINCESS OF X ....... 140 [I. I CONTINUE MY CAREER AS A MAN OF FASHION . 157 V. I RETURN TO IRELAND, AND EXHIBIT MY SPLEN- DOUR AND GENEROSITY IN THAT KINGDOM . 171 vm CONTENTS fitz-boodle's confessions :- PREFACE . MISS LOWE DOKOTHEA OTTILIA ; — II. OTTILIA IN PAETICULAE PAOB 181 CHAP. XV. I PAY COUET TO MY LADY LYNDON XVI. I PROVIDE NOBLY FOR MY FAMILY AND ATTAIN THE HEIGHT OF MY (sEEMING) (iOOD FORTUNE . 193 XVII. I APPEAR AS AN ORNAMENT OF ENGLISH SOCIETY XVIII. IN WHICH MY GOOD FORTUNE BEGINS TO WAVEE XIX. CONCLUSION THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPEKS 207 224 244 273 292 312 CHAP. I. THE ALBUM — THE MEDITERRANEAN HEATH . 324 328 FITZ-BOODLE'S PROFESSIONS : FIRST PROFESSION 341 SECOND PROFESSION 351 MEN'S WIVES THE RAVENSWING : — CHAP. I. WHICH IS ENTIRELY INTRODUCTORY CONTAINS AN ACCOUNT OF MISS CRUMP, HER SUITORS, AND HER FAMILY CIRCLE .... 367 II. IN WHICH MR. WALKER MAKES THREE ATTEMPTS TO ASCERTAIN Til]': DWJiLLING OF M0R6IANA 385 IIL WHAT CAME OF MR. WALKEE's DISCOVEEY OF THE "bootjack" 396 CONTENTS ix THE RAVENSWING (continued) : — CHAP. PAGB IV. IN WHICH THE HEEOINE HAS A NUMBER MORE LOVERS, AND CUTS A VERY DASHING FIGURE IN THE WORLD ..... 405 V. IN WHICH ME. WALKER PALLS INTO DIFFI- CULTIES, AND MRS. WALKER MAKES MANY FOOLISH ATTEMPTS TO RESCUE HIM . .421 VI. IN WHICH MR. WALKER STILL REMAINS IN DIFFICULTIES, BUT SHOWS GREAT RESIGNA- TION UNDER HIS MISFORTUNES . .438 VII. IN WHICH MORGIANA ADVANCES TOWARDS FAME AND HONOUR, AND IN WHICH SEVERAL GREAT LITERARY CHARACTERS MAKE THEIR » APPEARANCE 449 VIII. IN WHICH MR. WALKER SHOWS GREAT PRUDENCE AND FORBEARANCE ..... 463 MR. AND MRS. PRANK BERRY : — CHAP. , I. THE FIGHT AT SLAUGHTER HOUSE . . . 476 II. THE COMBAT AT VERSAILLES .... 482 DENNIS HAGGAETY's WIFE ...... 497 CATHERINE: A STORY CHAP. I. INTRODUCING TO THE READER THE CHIEF PERSONAGES OF THIS NAEEATIVE 519 II. IN WHICH AEE DEPICTED THE PLEASUEES OF A SENTI- MENTAL ATTACHMENT ..... 543 III. IN WHICH A NAECOTIC IS ADMINISTERED, AND A GREAT DEAL OF GENTEEL SOCIETY DEPICTED . . 553 IV. IN WHICH MRS. CATHERINE BECOMES AN HONEST WOMAN a(;ain ....... 562 X CONTENTS V. CONTAINS ME. BROCk's AUTOBIOGEAPHY, AND OTHEE MATTEE VI. ADVENTURES Of THE AMBASSADOR, MR. MACSHANE VII. WHICH EMBRACES A PERIOD OF SEVEN YEARS VIII. ENUMERATES THE ACCOMPLISHMENTS OF MASTER THOMAS BILLINGS INTEODUCES BROCK AS DOCTOR WOOD — AND ANNOUNCES THE EXECU- TION OF ENSIGN MACSHANE . INTERVIEW BETWEEN COUNT GALGENSTEIN AND MASTER THOMAS BILLINGS, WHEN HE INFORMS THE COUNT OF HIS PARENTAGE SHOWING HOW GALGENSTEIN AND MES. CAT RECOG- NISE EACH OTHER IN MAEYLEBONE GARDENS AND HOW THE COUNT DRIVES HER HOME IN HIS CAEEIAGE . .... OF SOME DOMESTIC QUARRELS, AND THE CONSE- QUENCE THEREOF XII. TREATS OF LOVE, AND PJtEPAEES FOR DEATH XIII. BEING A PEEPAEATION FOE THE END CHAPTER THE LAST ... ANOTHER LAST CHAPTER . IX. X. XI. PAGK 571 581 596 611 623 632 641 653 657 659 664 THE SECOND FUNERAL OP NAPOLEON I. ON THE DISINTERMENT OP NAPOLEON AT ST. HELENA 673 IL ON THE VOYAGE FEOM ST. HELENA TO PAEIS . . 684 III. ON THE PUNEEAL CEEEMONY 695 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS CAPTAIN walker's INTRODUCTION TO MORGIANA . Frontispiece OLD JOHN . . ..... MOTHER AND CHILD ...... THE FATAL BOOTS ...... A WAS AN ALDERMAN ROSY AND FAT . B WAS A BEADLE THAT WORE A COCKED HAT C WAS A COACHMAN ALL COVERED WITH LACE D WAS A DUSTMAN QUITE BLACK IN THE FACE E WAS AN EEL IN THE RIVER, I HOOKED HIM F WAS THE FRY-PAN IN WHICH MOLLY COOKED HIM THE " SPOTTED DOG " . RUSTIC WHISTLING FAT YEOMANRY CAVALRY FATHER AND LITTLE GIRL BATTLE OF JENA . PAGE xiv XV xviii xxi xxi xxii xxii xxiii xxiii xxv xxvii xxviii XXX xxxii THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. To face page 14 20 194 A RHYME FOR ARISTOTLE BARRY Lyndon's first love THE INTERCEPTED LETTERS THE LAST DAYS OF BARRY LYNDON 268 LIST OP ILLUSTRATIONS MEN'S WIVES NOT ALTOGETHER UNEXPECTED THE LAST DAYS OF THE KIDNEY CLUB POOR MORGIANA AN INNOCENT TRAITOR . PREPARING J»OR A D^BUT OLD SCHOOL-FELLOWS A DESERTED HUSBAND To face Jiage 398 406 428 444 454 48^ 51^ CATHERINE: A STORY mrs. catherines temptation the interrupted marriage . . . . captain brock appears at court with my lord peterborough . . . . Catherine's present to mr. hayes 528 568 576 618 INTRODUCTION TO BARRY LYNDON, ETor* 1839-1844 Almost the first time I can remember my parents was at home in Great Coram Street on one occasion, when my mother took me upon her back, as she had a way of doing, and after hesitating for a moment at the door, carried me into a little ground-floor room, where some one sat bending over a desk. This some one lifted up his head and looked round at the people leaning over his chair. He seemed pleased, smiled at us, but remonstrated. Nowadays 1 know by experience that authors don't get on best, as a rule, when they are interrupted in their work — not even by their own particular families — but at that time it was all wonder- ing, as I looked over my mother's shoulder. Another impression remains to me of some place near Russell Square, of a fine morn- ing, of music sounding, of escaping from my nurse and finding myself dancing in the street to the music along with some other children. Some one walking by came and lifted me up bodily on to his shoulder, and carried me away from the charming organ to my home, which was close by. As we went along, this stran- ger, as usual, became my father, whom I had not recognised at first. Old John, in his funny knee-breeches, used to open the door of that early home in Coram Street. I think the knee- breeches were yellow plush : it was probably the livery of the Car- michael-Smyths, for Old John had come up from Devonshire and Larkbeare, where he had faithfully served them all. I loved Old John. He used to teach me to sip porter out of a pint pot, and to take my part when I was naughty ; I can hear him still calling for Missy's chop, and announcing the important fact that xiv BARRY LYNDON, ETC. she was crying for her dinner. I had a fine time of it. My mother used to give me chocolates, and play prettier dance tunes even than organs in the street outside. I was but little over two years old, and I sometimes wonder now when I look at chil- dren of two, whether they also are beginning to see the world and to take their place in it, and what they think of it all. I liked the world extremely at that age ; the house seemed to me a splendid house, upstairs and downstairs, and there were organs constantly playing outside it. From the old scraps and notes remaining, I can realise the life we led, of which the sunny picture is still before my eyes. The drawing- room windows opened to a balcony ; on the other side of the room, my mother, with pretty shining hair, used to sit at her piano. About that time Mr. Fitz-Gerald writes to my father at 13 Great Coram Street, Russell Square : — " Dear Thackeray, — Thank you . for your last letter, as also for the former one, accompanying a very beau- tiful drawing, which I take pleasure in looking at. I am very glad you are OLD JOHN. engaged in a way of life that you like: that is a good thing, indeed, which most people miss. It would seem that I ought to be willing and able to write plenty of letters, as I have nothing in the world to do ; but it is all I can do now to manage one. When you see Spedding, please remember to tell him that I did write him a letter, which 1 put into the fire because it was pert ; and got nearly through another lately, which I abandoned because it was all about nothing. He has so much to do, that one has no right to expect any letter from him ; but give him my hearty love. All this you will forget, you rascal ! " I will exalt your name as a politician for ever if you will INTRODUCTION xv contrive to persuade me that we have nothing to fear from the domineering Kussia. It is not the present fuss made about her that makes me tremble, but I have always been afraid that she MOTHER AND CHILD. was the Power kept in pickle to overwhelm Europe, just as men were beginning to settle into a better state than the world has yet seen. If she were out of the question, we should do very well. ' There is but one Whose being we do fear; and, under her, Our genius is rebuked ; as, it is said. Marc Antony's was by Cieaar,' xvi BAKRY LYNDON, ETC. "Another illustrious author says, 'Joy to the Jews, and Russia pays the expence,' but this is in the way of Revelations, and therefore inexplicable. I study Clarke's book more and more, and see something new every time. Do you hear any- thing of a second part ? The last delicate touch that I became aware of was when, after the catastrophe at Pedastou House, Mrs. Gasky carries ofi Athanasius in her gig, which was waiting for her at the door. You will herewith draw Mrs. Gasky's gig. Thank you for your desire that I should come on a visit to you in London. I have been within an ace of coming up, but I do not think I shall now. Your accounts of Jack are very fine. I have been staying two days with Donne, who contributes to his review, and is a very delightful fellow. If you ask Jack about him, I dare say he will inform you in a whisper that he is one of the most distinguished generals alive. My sisters and broth- er-in-law spoke with grave praises of your ' Yellowplush ' the other day, not knowing who had written it, so I had the satis- faction of insinuating with an air of indifference that I knew the author well. They are also not quite certain but that I wrote it myself, so that I gain every way. I see poor old Macready toiling away at the 'Tempest' three times a week; the papers talk of there being full houses, but I conclude that that is undoubtedly a lie. Miss Horton must be a pretty Ariel ; there is some kuavishness in the expression of her face which must be suitable. Now farewell, dear Thackeray, and make my duty to my Lady, and believe me, ever yours, " E. FitzGerald. "P.S. — If you happen to go to Edmonton, or to meet Mrs. Gasky in her gig between that place and London, do not forget to give her my compts. ' Here one of the bishops was sick, and was obliged to be taken out. I did not hear what became of him.' Who can write like that ?" In those days ray father was working for the Times and the Morning Chronicle, for the Cruikshank Annuals and for Bentley, for Fraser and other periodicals. The accounts which still exist show how hard he worked, and how much quill-driving is neces- sary to keep even a modest household going, in a little back INTRODUCTION xvii street in London.* My mother used to laiigb, and say that she had helped to make his fortunes when she introduced him to the Times. The Sterlings were old friends of her family, and she had lived as a girl a good deal in the house in South Place where " The Thunderer," Captain Sterling, still dwelt. I used to be taken there, and I can just remember him in a sort of gallery in a wheel-chair, and my godmother, Mrs. Sterling, standing by and giving me a pair of red shoes. I sat on the floor and gazed at them in admiration. This taste may have been inherited, for there was a story my father used to tell us of his own early youth and of his passionate longing for a pair of Hessian boots, which he ordered home, and which were stern- ly sent back to the shop as unbefitting a schoolboy. It was a dreadful moment, and one which he said he conld never forget. Does any one ever forget these early mortifications ? Boots must have been of much more vital importance in the beginning of the century than they are now. I see in a note to " The Life of Cardinal Manning," who was four years older than my father, that at Harrow Mr. George Richmond describes Manning as "a buck of the first water," and says that among other adornments he sported Hessian boots with tassels. The history of " Stubbs and the Fatal Boots " may have had some link with those Hessians of my father's dreams. The story was written in the year 1839, and was published in Cruik- shank's Comic Annual for 1 840. Two years later my father writes to Mrs. Proctor, sending her a part of the MS. of the " Fatal Boots." " I have the honour to lay thera at your feet," he says, and along with the MS. he sends an allegorical sketch representing the presentation. "Catherine" was also written in 1839. The story appeared in Eraser's Magazine. " It was written in imitation of the bombastic fictions of the day," says a later editor. A taste for highwaymen was the fashion then, just as a taste for the new woman and neurotics has been popular of late. The * Our old friend, Sir Henry Cole, lias recorded in liis Memoirs that he sent a sketch to Mr. Cobden by W. M. T. in 1839, recommending his services in the Anti-Corn Law cause : " The artist is a genius both with his pen and his pencil. I think you would find him a most useful auxiliary," he wrote. xviii BARRY LYNDON, ETC. story of the wicked Catherine is one of the grimmest of all my father's stories ; but he still, perhaps, retained the prejudice that crime is grim. Nowadays some adventurous authors have tried to point a different moral to that wholesome one of our forebears. Who shall say that the jaded taste of our philosophies, having passed through all other experiences, may not eventually revert to thumbscrews, and other such spirited additions to the emotions of the hour ? THE FATAL BOOTS. Everybody admired " Jack Slieppard," including my grand- mother and my grandfather ; it created a fiirore, and sold by thousands. I can remember hearing it talked of, long after, when as very small children we used to look at the Cruikshank illustrations, with their weird goblin legs and faces, and winking eyes. " I read your views about ' Jack Sheppard,' " my father writes to his mother, " and such is the difference of taste, thought it INTRODUCTION xix poor stuff, quite below the mark, and inferior to the remarks on the same subject with which ' Catherine ' was concluded." "Catherine" made its mark. "The judges stand up for me," he writes. " Carlyle says it is wonderful, and many more laud it highly, but it is a disgusting subject and no mistake. I wish I had taken a pleasanter one. . . ." Again he says, writing to his mother : " It is very ingenious in you toiindbeauties in 'Catherine,' which was a mistake all through. It was not made disgusting enough — that was the fact, and the triumph of it would have been to make readers so horribly horri- fied as to cause them to give up, or rather throw up the book and all its kind; whereas you see the author had a sneaking kindness for his heroine, and did not like to make her quite worthless." The story of "Catherine" has an episode belonging to it, a very absurd one. Catherine Hayes was a real person, a well- known Irish murderess, the account of whose trial and execu- tion is taken from the newspapers of the time. She was buried at Tyburn in 1726. It unfortunately happened that a most charming songstress of my father's own day, who was popular in Ireland, and no less popular here in England, was also named Catherine Hayes.* Miss Hayes' impressionable Irish admirers came to the conclusion that this story of the former Catherine was a deliberate attack upon their favourite singer. An extraordinary burst of indigna- tion fell upon my poor father ; enthusiastic vindicators rose on every side, and knights to attack this cobweb of their own spin- ning ; nor was the supposed injury fougotten. In a letter to Adelaide Procter my father says, long after, in answer to her request for a contribution to a magazine, " As I was writing to say I had nothing, I lighted upon this queer scrap of a ballad, which perhaps won't do for yon. I don't re- member the remainder, but Morgan John O'Connell knows it by heart. . . . The second half relates the persecution of the Irish papers ever, so many years ago, who said my story of 'Cath- erine' was a deliberate attempt to ruin Miss Catherine Hayes, and I was flogged all round the Irish press for this wickedness. *Mia3 Hayes married Captain Bucknell, and died in all lier youth and beauty not many months after hei' marriage. There was also an allusion to Catherine Hayes in "Pendennis" (afterwards suppressed). XX BARRY LYNDON, ETC. I kept back the ballad at tlie time, because I just know Mrs. Bucknell, and I thought she might not like to have her name jokingly rhymed upon. But I saw her at the Theodore Martin s two days ago, when she spoke about the ballad, which M. J. O'Connell had repeated to her." Mrs. Bucknell alluded in so friendly a way to the poem that my father thought himself justified in allowing it to be reprinted, and he accordingly sent it to Miss Procter.* " ' Little Billee,' " he adds in a postscript, alluding to the poem she had first asked for, " was given away, and published years ago in an unknown book, to which I knew it would do no good, but the bookwriter's brother had been kind to me." It was, I believe, in consequence of the allusion to Catherine Hayes in "Pendennis" that an incident occurred which comes within my own recollection. One evening my father received a letter signed by a Mr. Briggs, announcing that a company of young Irishmen had determined to chastise him for this, and for various other supposed personal insults of an equally serious nature, and intended to come over one by one until their purpose was accomplished. Mr. Briggs had taken lodgings opposite to our house in Young Street, and was waiting until my father should go out, to attack him. In the window of our dining-room was presently established a stout good-humoured-looking man in a mustard-coloured coat, who was, so we are told, a detective. He arrived immediately after breakfast, and spent the morning staring at the opposite door- way, while my father finished his morning's work. When lunch time came the detective descended for his meal into the kitchen. Some friends arrived to luncheon. My father said the situation was becoming ridiculous and unbearable, and to our alarm and excitement he walked straight across the street and knocked at the door of Mr. Briggs' lodging and went in. We waited won- dering in the bow-window ; at the end of twenty minutes or so the lodging-house door opened, and he came out, unruffled and composed. He had walked in, caused himself to be announced suddenly by the landlady ; had told Mr. Briggs he was come to talk the matter over, and to find out in what he had offended him. The young man— he was a very young man— blustered at * This poem has not been included in any edition of " The Ballads." INTRODUCTION A WAS AN ALDERMAN ROSY AND PAT. first, then suddenly cooled down and listened to rea- son. He had never heard of the real Catherine Hayes, the murderess, be- fore. He seems to have been surprisingly amena- ble to explanation, and af- ter ten minutes' conversa- tion, to my father's great relief, he actually prom- ised to go back to Ireland. And so he did, that very evening. Besides talking the young man over in those twenty minutes, ray father was also able to buy an old Chippendale chair from the lodging-house woman, in which he sate for many years. " Catherine," as I have said, was one of the most cynical of my father's stories. He wrote Bmany cynical things in those ^'jy early days, as people do when they are very young and happy. On one occa- sion he writes : " Here is a man shouting, and we shall have this Lord William Rus- sell murder a nuisance, and so it is. The stupid town talks of nothing else, and the stupid Times and Stand- ard are lecturing the town upon the remissness of the _ police and the Whigs, of ^ ^/^ course. As a measure of defence I intended to mur- B WAS A BEADLE THAT WORE A COCKED HAT. der Old JoliH aud Tob him BAKKY LYNDOxV, ETC. of his money." " Going to see a man hanged," dates from that time. But he never spoke of that dreadful experience with- out a shudder. " It was a horrible sight indeed," he writes to Mrs. Proctor, "and I can't help mentioning it, for the poor wretch's face will keep itself before my eyes, and the scene mixes itself up with all my occupations." In that same }'ear, the last of my father's happy early days, he wrote"The Shabby Genteel Story," which is of a very differ- C WAS A COACHMAN ALL COVERED WITH LACE. ent mood and sort, and which was always a fa- vourite with him. It was published in Fraser in 1840. At the end of his life he made a conclusion to it, in the Cornhill — " Philip " — the last of his completed stories. He called the heroine, the little sister, by the name of Caroline, which he al- ways pronounced Carolin, and which he used to say was his favourite woman's name. To return to the little house in Coram Street — Alfred Tennyson used to D was a dustman quite black in the face. INTRODUCTION come there, and Mr. Morton and the Kem- bles ; and Edward Fitz- Gerald stayed there more than once. " Love to all Coram Street," FitzGerald says, writing to Archdeacon Allen ; and again, " Give my love to Thackeray from your upper window across the street.^' The Aliens lived op- posite to us then, and I almost remember them, although I wa^ under three years old. They were carriage people — at least they had a wood- F WAS THE FRT-PAN IN WHICH MOLLT COOKED HIM. E WAS AN EEL IN THE KIVEK, I HOOKED HIM. en go-cart, in which I used to be taken out for drives with an Allenbaby of my own standing. It was a glorious sensation, combining ease to the legs with proper pride and delightful society. One does not remember enough in after life the extraordinary variety of experiences which are comprised within the first two or three years of one's existence — those dawning hours, when the whole world is illumi- nated and enchanting, when animals can speak — nay, when all nature xxiv BAREY LYNDON, ETC. speaks and inanimate things are alive, and when we are as gods, and unconscious of evil, and create existence for ourselves as we breathe. And here the writer must confess that although she remem- bers these raptures and the go-cart and some picture-books and the drawing of a certain alphabet which was to teach her to read,* she has reconstructed much of what happened from the scraps and letters of that time. " If you were here and could be intimate with John Allen, how you would respect him," my father writes from Coram Street to his mother. "The man is just a perfect saint, nor more nor less, and not the least dogmatical or presumptuous ; but working, striving, yearning day and night in the most intense efforts to gain Christian perfection — and yet the world would not be as good a world as it is, were all men like him : it would be but a timid, ascetic place, in which many of the finest faculties of the soul would not dare to exer- cise themselves. No man can, however, escape from his influ- ence, which is perfectly magnetic. . . ." It was in 1839 that my parents lost a little child, of whom my father never could speak without emotion. She was only a baby, but wonderfully forward and full of tender sensibiHty, one of those children who seem to carry a light from some diviner world in their hearts and ways. He has spoken of this time himself in the Preface to "The Great Hoggarty Dia- mond," the book which John Sterling praised.f There is a tone in it which is almost like a keynote to much of the sad experience at this time ; and which vibrates on as some notes do. Here is a quotation from a letter from my father to my mother in the country : — " They say the town is very gay, but I have almost left ofE going to operas and theatres, and come home early, when Fitz- Gerald and I have a pipe together, and so go quietly to bed. It * This alphabet never went further than the pictures which are here given. f " What is there better in Goldsmith or Fielding ?" Sterlin" said. Blackwood did not think go. " They refused the best story I ever wrote !" my father said, writing to Professor Aytoun in 1847. IxYTKODUCTION xxv is delightful to have him in the house, but I'm afraid his society makes me idle, we sit and talk too much about books and pict- ures and smoke too many cigars." W. M. T. to E. F. G. " Here is a scene of the Spotted Dog, a public-house near the Strand, where you pay 2d. to hear singing, &c. The faces are not at all caricatured, not even the eyebrows. The poor devil to the Right Hof the Picter sung a solo about Rosy Bacchus, the other two sung a glee, the One-eyed Man Bass." THE "SPOTTED DOG.'' The following extracts belong to this time : W. M. T. to his Mother. "The days pass away to me like half-hours. I have just done an article about George Cruikshank for the London and Westminster ; I will send it you when it appears ; and further- more am bringing out on my own account a weekly paper called the Foolscap Library. I think it will take, and the profits of it will be so enormous if successful that I don't like to share them with a bookseller." xxvi BAREY LYNDON, ETC. " I have lots of work on Land, so much so that I am half dis- tracted with it and do little, but am going to do wonders direct- ly. ' Dr. Johnson,' says Mrs. Thrale, ' please to read these man- uscripts. I have several others when you have done these, for, Doctor, I have plenty of irons in the fire '—to which the Doctor replied : ' Madam, you had better put them along with your other irons ' — a good fate for the works of most of us. (I have grown to hate letter-paper as somebody does holy water)." "February, 1840. " We have been on a sweet trip to Clapham to see my friend Cattermole, who has married' a charming little wife, and has a beautiful place, and on another to Chelsea to see Carlyle and Mrs. C. Pleasanter, more high-minded people I don't know." " Leigh Hunt has produced a charming play, and my lady is going with the Kembles in their private box. Fitz is to come too, and I intend to stop at home and work. . . . We are all won- drous well in health, and my dear little Missy is as gay as a lark." "I have been rejoicing in the Exhibitions this week, which always put me in a fever for a certain number of days, and set me buying paint-boxes, and thinking that I have missed my vo- cation." " The death of Macleod, the captain of the Great Liverpool, shocked me a great deal, and that awful principle of mistaken honour. Who are Christians in the world ? Priests and aris- tocracy have killed the. spirit of Christianity, I think — the one by inventing curses, the other honour. . . . " I have been poring over the Life of David Hume all day — the most amiable of honest heathens. His life is excellently selfish and good-humoured and correct, and he went out of the world quite unconcerned, and with a grin on his face, entering into eternity as if he were stepping into a Court ball." The next letter is dated May 1840. My father was at Leam- ington, a hundred miles away from a good dinner to which Mrs. Procter had asked him ; and Mrs. Procter, the wife of Barry Cornwall, who was so warm a friend to my father in those by- gone days, gave a book of his letters to our good friends and INTRODUCTION xxvii hers, Mr. and Mrs. Murray Smith, from which collection I have been allowed by them to quote: — " If you could but see how wonderful the country is," he says, " the country of Shakspeare. The old homes of England stand- ing pleasantly in smiling cowslippod lawns, whence spring lofty elms amidst which the breezes whisper melodies, the birds sing- ing ravishing concerts, the sheep browsing here and there, and waddling among the fresh pastures like walking door-mats, the tender lambs trotting about on thick legs ; the cows, bullocks, or kine, looking solemnly with large eyes from betwixt their crooked horns, the lusty rustics sauntering round about whistling KDSTIC WHISTLING. [sketch], the fat yeomanry cavalry [sketch] swaggering thro' the green lanes. . . . How I wish for Leigh Hunt, or any friend who really loves the country," he adds in conclusion. W. M. T. to Ms Mother. "Mat/ 1840. " I am very much alarmed about the state of the country — not alarmed, that is, for what can I lose ? — but quite certain that a xxviii BAKliY LYNDON, ETC. certain part of us are going to the deuce, and that a tremendous revohition is preparing. There will be no end to it when it comes, and vou will have barricading again in Paris, and there will be similar work all through Europe. The orthodox say it PAT YEOMANRY CAVALRY. will be the battle of Armageddon, after which the Millennium. There are a million and a half of Chartists, armed, banded, and corresponding closely with one another. Their plan is not to meet in large bodies at all, but their officers meet, and their officers' officers, and these have corresponding delegates who direct the operations. Had it not been for a rainy night and the cowardice of that scoundrel Frost we might have been now the British Republic for what I know, and Queen Victoria in her uncle's dominions of Hanover. Thank God that the Chartists have not a man of courage at their head who might set the king- dom in a blaze. With their views about equalising property — robbery, in fact — of course a revolution effected by them could not last long, and the fit would soon be over ; but the deuce is that one must take and bear it, and be in a fever for a couple of years, until a deal of blood-letting has brought the disease down." INTRODUCTION xxix "July 30, 1840. " I have been reading Allan Ramsay's poems — the Ballantyne controversy — and a noble article in the British Critic on Pauper- ism, which has affected me extraordinarily ; likewise some French novels — noble occupation for grey-headed fathers of families. How happy are those who read to instruct themselves — yes, besides, I have read Ranke's ' History of the Popes ' (in the way of business). It is a great book, and may be read with profit by some persons who wonder how other persons can talk about the ' beautiful Roman Catholic Church,' in whose bosom repose so many saints and sages ! Saints and sages do sleep there and everywhere under God's sunshine, I hope." "J. Allen sent missy a book of Scripture prints, those from Mant's Bible, but a great scene took place when she came on Abraham sacrificing Isaac: she cried and screamed, and said, ' No, he should not kill poor lickle boy,' and tried to pull Isaac oflE the altar. Truly out of the mouths of babes and sucklings comes wisdom." "Margate, 1840. " I think Durham's death is a piece of good fortune for Charles Buller, who has been weighed down by the corpse, as it were, of that man. What the Times says of him is very just, as far as the appreciation of character goes — not so as to the Canada failure — the rascally Whigs and Tories swamped that between them. When is the day to come when those two hum- bugs are to disappear from among us? Don't be astonished. I'm not a Chartist, only a Republican. I would like to see all men equal, and this bloated aristocracy blasted to the wings of all the winds. It has been good and useful up to the present time, nay, for a little time longer perhaps — just up to the minute when the great lion shall shake his mane and scatter all these absurd insects out of it. " What stuff to write to be sure. But I see how in every point of morals the aristocracy is cursing the country. ',' Oh for a few enlightened Republicans, men to say their say honestly, and dare to do and say the truth. We are living in wonderful times, madam, and who knows — may see great things done : but no physical force — the bigotry of that and of the pres- ent Chartist leaders is greater than the bigotry we suffer under. XXX BARKY LYNDON, ETC. " How delightfully quiet this night is ! the ripple of the waters is most melodious, the gas -lamps round the little bay look as if they were sticking flaming swords into it ! What is it that sets one's spirits chirping so, on getting out from London ?" After my mother's illness the little household in Coram Street was broken up, and we all went abroad. I can remember my father punishing me as we travelled to Paris all night in the creaking diligence. I wanted to get out and walk, and they wouldn't let rae, and I cried on and on. There was a man in a cap I didn't like, with his nose against the window. He frowned FATHER AND LITTLE GIRL. at ree when I looked at him. My father was in the corner of the diligence opposite to me and the nurse and the baby, and he struck a match, and lit up a little lantern, which he held up to amuse me. But I only cried the louder. Then he said grave- ly, " If you go on crying you will wake the baby, and I shall INTEODUCTION xxxi put out the candle ;" so I went on crying, and I woke the baby, who began to cry too ; then the man in the corner scolded again, and my father blew out the lantern, and suddenly all was dark. I could not believe it, never before had I been so se- verely punished. "Light it, light it," I screamed. "No," said my father's voice in the dark, " I told you I should put the light out if you cried." All the time the man in the corner kept on moaning and complaining, and the diligence jogged on, and I suppose I went to sleep on my father's knee at last. I re- member hearing him long afterwards speak of that dreadful night, and of the angry Frenchman, who kept saying, " J'ai la fievre, mon Dieu. J'ai la fievre." The next thing I remember is arriving quite cheerful at Paris, and my grandmother and ray grandfather coming down the curling stairs to meet us in the early morning and opening their arms to us all. Is this a preface to " Barry Lyndon " and " The Second Fu- neral of Napoleon "? It will do as well as any other, to show how, and under what difficulties, the books of that time were written ! Napoleon always haunted my father's imagination (the Corsi- can Ogre who ate little children). The history of the second funeral was eventually told by the same little boy who once peeped at the great prisoner on his lonely rock, and who drew the very early design of the battle of Jena given on the follow- ing page. " Comic Tales and Sketches," by M. A. Titmarsh, ap- peared in 1841. M. A. Titmarsh was, as we know, the talented first cousin of Samuel Titmarsh of " The Iloggarty Diamond." Michael Angelo, the artist, drew the pictures to " The Hoggarty Diamond " when it came out in Fraser ; and he was a poet as well as an artist. " The Chronicle of the Drum" was published by him with "The Second Funeral of Napoleon " (after an interlude of George Fitzboodle and his stories of " Men's Wives "). " The Irish Sketch Book " was illustrated by Michael Angelo, but it was Fitzboodle who wrote " Barry Lyndon," to which there were no pictures. There are various legends concerning Titmarsh, who at one time talked xxxii BARRY LYNDON, ETC. of suicide indeed, in consequence of some attacks in the daily- press, and caused much anxiety to his landlady, but this was happily only a passing excitement. Mr Titmarsh had previously illustrated the " Paris Sketch iiook when it came out in 1840. INTRODUCTION xxxiii For the next few years my father was constantly in Paris, and we lived with our grandparents. W. M. T. to his Aunt, Mrs. Ritchie. " A ViLLiERS LE Bel pres Sarcelles, " October 1843, 81 Champs Eltsees. " My DEAR Aunt, — Charlotte's handwriting in William's let- ter had a very reproachful look, and seemed to say, Here is a letter for you, but you don't deserve it. I ought to have writ- ten to you weeks ago, to explain how it was that my little ones didn't come to pay their promised visit to you. They are all at Montmorenci, where they have been for this month past ; and as I go thither once or twice a week, and lose a whole day in the journey to and fro, I can't afEord to give up more of my precious time, but am obliged to remain at home for the rest of the week working, or pretending to work. I believe I am writ- ing a novel, and shall be delighted when the day arrives when you shall be able to read this remarkable production. . . . " William sends me very good news about £500 which a man owes me at Calcutta. He, the debtor, sent a little remittance two months since, and where is it now ? — at the bottom of the Red Sea with the Memnon. It is my usual luck. However, the remittance is only delayed, and some months hence I shall get the duplicate of the bill. I hope the winter will bring you back to Paris. The view from your windows in the Rue d'Aguesseau is not very brilliant, but after all, a good cheerful landscape of chimney-pots and walls is a better look-out than naked trees and muddy lanes. — Yours, dear Aunt, affectionately, " W. M. T." My father once said to me when I was a girl : " You needn't read 'Barry Lyndon,' you won't like it." Indeed it is scarcely a book to like, but one to admire and to wonder at for its consummate power and mastery. The book was written in 1843-44, and should by rights be printed with the " Journey from Cornhill to Cairo," but for convenience the travels are published together, and " Barry " is included in this volume. xxxiv BARRY LYNDON, ETC. Barry Lyndon himself must have been born somewhere about 1742 ; and much of his early life was passed abroad, in the Ger- man army. He tells his own story so as to enlist every sym- pathy against himself, and yet all flows so plausibly, so glibly, that one can hardly explain how the effect is produced. From the very first sentence almost, one receives the impression of a lawless adventurer, brutal, heartless, with low instincts and rapid perceptions. Barry Lyndon, together with his own autobiog- raphy, gives a picture of the world in which he lives and brags, a picture so vivid, and present to one's mind, that as one reads one almost seems to hear the tread of remorseless fate sounding through all the din and merriment. Take those descriptions of the Prussian army during the Seven Years' War, and of that hand of man which weighs so heavily upon man — what a haunt- ing page in history 1 Somewhere my father says he forgets dates and facts, but that he remembers impressions ; and one can realise what the impressions must have been that went to the making of " Barry Lyndon." The story of Barry Lyndon's marriage is evidently taken from a true history which concerns a noble family of which many strange legends are told. The family of Bowes dates from the Conquest, and we read that one of the ladies Strathmore was the sole heiress of this wealthy line. She was left a widow be- fore she was thirty, and had many suitors, for she was charm- ing as well as rich. This unfortunate lady was bullied into a marriage with a brutal adventurer, from whom she finally escaped by flight, barely saving her life. The story of her eldest son, who disappeared, and only came back after many years, is not less true. My father had a friend at Paris in those days, a Mr. Bowes, who may have first told him this history, of which the details are almost incredible, as quoted from the 'par pers of the time. Mr. Marzials, in his preface to a new edition of " Barry Lyn- don," says that he has tried to discover the source of another story to which allusion is made in the episode of Duke Victor and his Duchess. The very first entry in my father's note-book for 1844 answers this query : ''Jan. 4, 1844.— Read in a silly book called V Empire a good story about the first K. of Wurtem-berg's wife ; killed by her INTRODUCTION xxxv husband for adultery. Frederic William, born in 1734 (?), m. in 1780 the Princess Caroline of Brunswick Wolfenbuttel, who died the 27th September 1788. For the rest of the story see D Empire oil dix ans sous Napoleon, par iin Chatnbellan : Paris, Allardin, 1836 ; vol. i. 220." The note-book goes on with various dates and memoranda which may interest readers of " Bany Lyndon." '■'■Jan. 12, 1844. — Read Kenealy's' Life of Maginn'and Lever on Grant, and other magazinery. Maginn a famous subject for moralising. Wrote for Eraser till 5, and went to see Arnal in Vkomme blase. Quite tired and weary with writing, which the evening's amusement did not cure. Wrote ' Barry Lyndon ' for Eraser again — beginning, however, to flag. . ." '■'■Jan. 20. — In these days got through the fag-end of Chap, iv. of ' Barry Lyndon ' with a great deal of dulness, unwilling- ness, and labour." " Eeh. 2. — Wrote all day for Punch ' The next Revolution.' " ^'^ Eeh. 17. — Passed the whole of these days (with the ex- ception of Wednesday and Thursday, when I wrote the Ameri- can letter) reading for ' Barry Lyndon,' and writing, with ex- treme difficulty, a sheet." He seems to have suffered physically from the task, for he goes on to say on the 21st : " Wrote all day ' Barry Lyndon,' at 5 went out very tired, and came back still more tired at 9^ . . . continual labour annoys and excites me too much." In the spring he returned to England again, for there is an entry on the 5th of March : " Came to my comfortable old quar- ters in Jermyn Street, and spent the evening at the Procters', without any dinner, and without any sleep at night, in con- sequence, perhaps." Except for a few engagements at Procters', Bullers', Kirwans', Talfourds', &c., there are no more notes till the 18th of July, when ray father is still at work upon " Barry Lyndon," and reading " Peregrine Pickle," " excellent for its liveliness and spirit, and wonderful for its atrocious vulgarity.'' " Aug. 10. — Read for ' B. L.' all the morning at the club, then walked — A pleasant dinner at Disraeli's." "Aug. 14. — At home all day drawing and dawdling, with ' B. L.' lying like a nightmare on my mind. Dined with Boxall. xxxvi BARRY LYNDON, ETC. In the evening to Mrs. Twiss's music * — a pleasant party and pretty women." "Aug. 19. — Wrote all day 'Barry Lyndon.' Dined with Bevan at the Reform Club, where I met Emerson Tennant and had much talk about a trip to the East." "Aug. 20. — In the City again to arrange about the Eastern trip; wrote a little 'Barry Lyndon'; dined with Quin at a party where Fitzgerald was in wonderful cue, but 1 was too much flustered myself thinking about the great voyage to enjoy the fun much." The journey to the East comes with a happy break into all the work and the depression of the early months of 1844. It is true that " Barry " travelled with my father, " hanging round his neck," as he writes, and had to be written as well as other work that was promised, along the Vay ; yet a thousand new impressions and lights and visions came to distract the tired writer, and to revive his flagging spirits. I will not dwell here upon the journey which marks its own record in " Cornhill to Cairo," but I will give three dates noted in the diary for 1844 : "Malta, Nov. 1. — Wrote 'Barry,' but slowly and with great diflSculty." Nov. 2nd. — " Wrote ' Barry ' with no more success than yesterday." Nov. 3. — "Finished 'Barry' after grout throes late at night." A. I. R. * There is an absurd little family tradition connected with the name of Horace Twiss which used to amuse us all. One day that he was dining at the Mansion House my father saw the Lord Mayor nodding at him in a friendly sort of way. " I know you," said the Lord Mayor, " Horace Twiss." My father disclaimed, but the Lord Mayor went on insisting. It was finally explained that he had taken his guest for Mr. Charles Dickens, and that he was alluding in a complimentary (though somewhat devious) manner to " Oliver Twist " which had lately appeared. THE MEMOIRS BAHEY LYNDON, Esq. THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, Esq. CHAPTER I MY PEDIGREE AND FAMILY-UNDERGO THE INFLUENCE OF THE TENDER PASSION SINCE the days of Adam, there has been hardly a mischief done in this world but a woman has been at the bottom of it. Ever since ours was a family (and that must be very near Adam's time, — so old, noble, and illustrious are the Barrys, as everybody knows) women have played a mighty part with the destinies of our race. I presume that there is no gentleman in Europe that has not heard of the house of Barry of Barryogue, of the kingdom of Ireland, than which a more famous name is not to be found in Gwillim or D'Hozier ; and though, as a man of the world, I have learned to despise heartily the claims of some pretenders to high birth who have no more genealogy than the lacquey who cleans my boots, and though I laugh to utter scorn the boasting of many of my country- men, who are all for descending from kings of Ireland, and talk of a domain no bigger than would feed a pig as if it were a principality ; yet truth compels me to assert that my family was the noblest of the island, and, perhaps, of the universal world ; while their possessions, now insignificant and torn from us by war, by treachery, by the loss of time, by ancestral extravagance, by adhesion to the old faith and monarch, were formerly prodigious, and embraced many counties, at a time when Ireland was vastly more prosperous than now. I would assume the Irish crown over my coat-of-arms, but that there are so many silly pretenders to that distinction who bear it and render it common. Who knows, but for the fault of a woman, I might have been wearing it now ? You start with incredulity. I say, why not 1 i THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. Had there been a gallant chief to lead my countrymen, instead of puling knaves who bent the knee to King Richard II., they might have been freemen ; had there been a resolute leader to meet the murderous ruffian Oliver Cromwell, we should have shaken ofl the English for ever. But there was no Barry in the field agamst the usurper; on the contrary, my ancestor, Simon de Bary, came over with the first-named monarch, and married the daughter of the then King of Munster, whose sons in battle he pitilessly slew. In Oliver's time it was too late for a chief of the name of Barry to lift up his war-cry against that of the miu'derous brewer. We were princes of the land no longer ; our unhappy race had lost its possessions a century previously, and by the most shameful treason. This I know to be the fact, for my mother has often told me the story, and besides had worked it in a worsted pedigree which hung up in the yellow saloon at BaiTyville where we lived. That very estate which the Lyndons now possess in Ireland was once the property of my race. Rory Barry of Barryogue owned it in Ehzabeth's time, and half Munster beside. The Barry was always in feud with the O'Mahonys in those times ; and, as it happened, a certain English colonel passed through the former's country with a body of men-at-arms, on the very day when the O'Mahonys had made an inroad upon our territories, and carried off a frightful plunder of our flocks and herds. "This young Englishman, whose name was Roger Lyndon, Linden, or Lyndaine, having been most hospitably received by the Barry, and finding him just on the point of carrying an inroad into the O'Mahonys' land, offered the aid of himself and his lances, and be- haved himself so well, as it appeared, that the O'Mahonys were entirely overcome, all the Barry's property restored, and with it, says the old chronicle, twice as much of the O'Mahonys' goods and cattle. It was the setting in of the winter season, and the young soldier was pressed by the Barry not to quit his house of Ban'yogue, and remained there during several months, his men being quartered with Barry's own gallowglasses, man by man in the cottages round about. They conducted themselves, as is their wont, with the most in- tolerable insolence towards the Irish ; so much so, that fights and murders continually ensued, and the people vowed to destroy them. The Barry's son (from whom I descend) was as hostile to the English as any other man on his domain ; and, as they would not go when bidden, he and his friends consulted together and determined on destroying these English to a man. But they had let a woman into their plot, and this was the Barry's daughter. She was in love with the English Lyndon, and MY ANCESTORS 6 broke the whole secret to him ; and the dastardly English prevented the just massacre of themselves by falling on the Irish, and destroy- ing Phaudrig Barry, my ancestor, and many hundreds of his men. The cross at Barrycross near Carrignadihioul is the spot where the odious butchery took place. Lyndon married the daughter of Roderick Barry, and claimed the estate which he left ; and though the descendants of Phaudrig were alive, as indeed they are in my person,* on appealing to the English courts, the estate was awarded to the Englishman, as has ever been the case where English and Irish were concerned. Thus, had it not been for the weakness of a woman, I should have been born to the possession of those very estates which after- wards came to me by merit, as you shall hear. But to proceed with my family history. My father was well known to the best circles in this kingdom as in that of Ireland, under the name of Roaring Harry Barry. Ho was bred like many other young sons of genteel families to the profession of the law, being articled to a celebrated attorney of Sackville Street in the city of Dublin ; and, from his great genius and aptitude for learning, there is no doubt he would have made an eminent figure in his profession, had not his social qualities, love of field-sports, and extraordinary graces of manner, marked him out for a higher sphere. While he was attorney's clerk he kept seven racehorses, and hunted regularly both with the Kildare and Wicklow hunts ; and rode on his grey horse Endymion that famous match against Captain Punter, which is still remembered by lovers of the sport, and of which I caused a splendid picture to be made and hung over my dining-hall mantelpiece at Castle Lyndon. A year after- wards he had the honour of riding that very horse Endymion before his late Majesty King George II. at Newmarket, and won the plate there and the attention of the august sovereign. Although he was only the second son of our family, my dear father came naturally into the estate (now miserably reduced to £400 a year) ; for my grandfather's eldest son, Cornelius Barry (called the Chevalier Borgne, from a wound which he received in Germany), remained constant to the old religion in which our family was educated, and not only served abroad with credit, but against His Most Sacred Majesty George II. in the unhappy Scotch dis- turbances in '45. We shall hear more of the Chevalier hereafter. For the conversion of my father I have to thank my dear mother, Miss Bell Brady, daughter of Ulysses Brady of Castle Brady, county * As we have never been able to find proofs of the marriage of my ancestor Phaudrig with his wife, I make no doubt that Lyndon destroyed the contract, and murdered the priest and witnesses of the marriage. — B. L. 6 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. Kerry, Esquire and J. P. She was the most beautiful woman of her day in DubHn, and universally caUed the Dasher there. Seemg her at the aflsemhly, my father became passionately attached to her ; but her soul was above marrying a Papist or an attorneys clerk; and so for the love of her, the good old laws being then in force, my dear father slipped into my uncle Cornelius s shoes and took the family estate. Besides the force of my mother's bright eyes, several persons, and of the genteelest society too, contnbuted to this happy chan-'e ; and I have often heard my mother laughingly tell the story of my father's recantation, which was solemnly pronounced at the tavern in the company of Sir Dick Ringwood, Lord Bagwig, Captam Punter, and two or three other young sparks of the town. Roanng Harry won three hundred pieces that very night at faro, and laid the necessary information the next morning against his brother ; but his conversion caused a coolness between him and my uncle Comey, who joined the rebels in consequence. This great difficulty being settled, my Lord Bagwig lent my father his own yacht, then lying at the Pigeon House, and the handsome Bell Brady was induced to run away with him to England, although her parents were against the match, and her lovers (as I have heard her tell many thousands of times) were among the most numerous and the most wealthy in all the kingdom of Ireland. They were married at the Savoy, and my grandfather dying very soon, Harry Barry, Esquire, took possession of his paternal property and supported our illustrious name with credit in London. He pinked the famous Count Tiercelin behind Montague House, he was a member of "White's," and a frequenter of all the chocolate- houses ; and my mother, likewise, made no small figure. At length, after his great day of triumph before His Sacred Majesty at New- market, Harry's fortune was just on the point of being made, for the gracious monarch promised to provide for him. But alas ! he was taken in charge by another monarch, whose will will have no delay or denial, — by Death, namely, who seized upon my father at Chester races, leaving me a helpless orphan. Peace be to his ashes ! He was not faultless, and dissipated all our princely family property ; but he was as brave a fellow as ever tossed a bumper or called a main, and he drove his coaeh-and-six like a man of fashion. I do not know whether his gracious Majesty was much affected by this sudden demise of my father, though my mother says he shed some royal tears on the occasion. But they helped us to nothing : and all that was found in the house for the wife and creditors was a purse of ninety guineas, which my dear mother naturally took, with the family plate, and my father's wardrobe and her own ; and putting them into our great coach, drove off to Holyhead, whence she MY FATHEE'S FUNEEAL 7 took shipping for Ireland. My father's body accompanied us in the finest hearse and plumes money could buy ; for though the husband and wife had quarrelled repeatedly in life, yet at my father's death jiis high-spuited widow forgot all her differences, gave him the grandest funeral that had been seen for many a day, and erected a monument over his remains (for which I subsequently paid), which declared him to be the wisest, purest, and most affectionate of men. In performing these sad duties over her deceased lord, the widow spent almost every guinea she had, and, indeed, would have spent a great deal more, had she discharged one-third of the demands which the ceremonies occasioned. But the people around our old house of Barryogue, although they did not like my father for his change of faith, yet stood by him at this moment, and were for exterminating the mutes sent by Mr. Plumer of London with the lamented remains. The monument and vault in the church were then, alas ! all that remained of my vast possessions ; for my father had sold every stick of the property to one Notley, an attorney, and we received but a cold welcome in his house — a miserable old tumble-down place it was.* The splendour of the funeral did not fail to increase the widow Barry's reputation as a woman of spirit and fashion ; and when she wrote to her brother Michael Brady, that worthy gentleman im- mediately rode across the country to fling himself in her arms, and to invite her in his wife's name to Castle Brady. Mick and Barry had quarrelled, as all men will, and very high words had passed between them during Barry's courtship of Miss Bell. When he took her off, Brady swore he would never forgive Barry or Bell ; but coming to London in the year '46, he fell in once more with Eoaring Harry, and lived in his fine house in Clarges Street, and lost a few pieces to him at play, and broke a watchman's head or two in his company, — all of which reminiscences endeared Bell and her son very much to the good-hearted gentleman, and he received us both with open arms. Mrs. Barry did not, perhaps wisely, at first make known to her friends what was her condition ; but arriving in a huge gilt coach with enormous armorial bearings, was taken by her sister-in-law and the rest of the county for a person of considerable property and distinction. For a time, then, and as was right and proper, Mrs. Barry gave the law at Castle Brady. She ordered the servants to and fro, * In another part of his memoir Mr. Barry will be found to describe this mansion as one of the most splendid palaces in Europe ; but this is a practice not unusual with his nation ; and with respect to the Irish principality claimed by him, it is known that Mr. Barry's grandfather was an attorney and maker of his own fortune. 8 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. and taught them, what indeed they much wanted, a little London neatness ; and " English Redmond," as I was called, was treated like a little lord, and had a maid and a footman to hmiself ; and honest Mi'ck paid their wages,— which was much more than he was used to do for his own domestics,— doing all in his power to make his sister decently comfortable under her afflictions. Mamma, m return, determined that, when her affairs were arranged, she would make her kind brother a handsome allowance for her sou's mainten- ance and her own ; and promised to have her handsome fumitiure brought over from Clarges Street to adorn the somewhat dilapidated rooms of Castle Brady. But it turned out that the rascally landlord seized upon every chair and table that ought by rights to have belonged to the widow. The estate to which I was heir was in the hands of rapacious creditors; and the only means of subsistence remaining to the widow and child was a rent-charge of £50 upon my Lord Bagwig's property, who had many turf-dealings with the deceased. And so my dear mother's liberal intentions towards her brother were of course never fulfilled. It must be confessed, very much to the discredit of Mrs. Brady of Castle Brady, that when her sister-in-law's poverty was thus made manifest, she forgot all the respect which she had been accustomed to pay her, instantly turned my maid and man-servant out of doors, and told Mrs. Barry that she might follow them as soon as she chose. Mrs. Mick was of a low family, and a sordid way of thinking ; and after about a couple of years (during which she had saved almost all her little income) the widow complied with Madam Brady's desire. At the same time, giving way to a just, though prudently dissimulated resentment, she made a vow that she would never enter the gates of Castle Brady while the lady of the house remained alive within them. She fitted up her new abode with much economy and consider- able taste, and never, for all her poverty, abated a jot of the dignity which was her due, and which all the neighbourhood awarded to her. How, indeed, could they refuse respect to a lady who had lived in London, frequented the most fashionable society there, and had been presented (as she solemnly declared) at Court? These advantages gave her a right which seems to be pretty unsparingly exercised in Ireland by those natives who have it, — the right of looking down with scorn upon all persons who have not had the opportunity of quitting the mother-country and inhabiting England for a while. Thus, whenever Madam Brady appeared abroad in a new dress, her sister-in-law would say, " Poor creature ! how can it be expected that she should know anything of the fashion 1 " Ajid MY WIDOWED MOTHER 9 though pleased to be called the handsome widow, as she was, Mrs. Barry was still better pleased to be called the English widow. Mrs. Brady, for her part, was not slow to reply : she used to say that the defunct Barry was a banknipt and a beggar ; and as for the fashionable society which he saw, he saw it from my Lord Bag- wig's side-table, whose flatterer and hanger-on he was known to be. Eegarding Mrs. Barry, the lady of Castle Brady would make insinu- ations still more painftil. However, why should we allude to these charges, or rake up private scandal of a hundred years old 1 It was in the reign of George II. that the above-named personages lived and quarrelled ; good or bad, handsome or ugly, rich or poor, they are all equal now ; and do not the Sunday papers and the courts of law supply us every week with more novel and interesting slander 1 At any rate, it must be allowed that Mrs. Barry, after her husband's death and her retirement, lived in such a way as to defy slander. For whereas Bell Brady had been the gayest girl in the whole county of Wexford, with half the bachelors at her feet, and plenty of smiles and encouragement for every one of them, Bell Barry adopted a dignified reserve that almost amounted to pomposity, and was as starch as any Qviakeress. Many a man renewed his offers to the widow, who had been smitten by the charms of the spinster ; but Mrs. Barry refused all offers of marriage, declaring that she lived now for her son only, and for the memory of her departed saint. " Saint forsooth ! " said ill-natured Mrs. Brady. " Harry Barry was as big a sinner as ever was known ; and 'tis notorious that he and Bell hated each other. If she won't marry now, depend on it, the artful woman has a husband in her eye for all that, and only waits unto. Lord Bagwig is a widower." And suppose she did, what then? Was not the widow of a Barry fit to marry with any lord of England 1 and was it not always said that a woman was to restore the fortunes of the Barry family 1. If my mother fancied that she was to be that woman, I think it was a perfectly justifiable notion on her part ; for the Earl (my godfather) was always most attentive to her : I never knew how deeply this notion of advancing my interests in the world had taken possession of mamma's mind, until his Lordship's marriage in the year '57 with Miss Goldmore, the Indian nabob's rich daughter. Meanwhile we continued to reside at BarryviUe, and, considering the smallnesB of our income, kept up a wonderful state. Of the half-dozen families that formed the congregation at Brady's Town, there was not a single person whose appearance was so respect- able as that' of the widow, who, though she always dressed in mourning, in memory of her deceased husband, took care that her garments should be made so as to set off' her handsome person to the 10 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. greatest advantage; and, indeed, I think, spent six hours out of every day in the week in cutting, trimming, and altering them to the fashion. She had the largest of hoops and the handsomest of furbelows, and once a month (under my Lord Bagwig's cover) would come a letter from London containing the newest accounts of the fashions there. Her complexion was so brilliant that she had no call to use rouge, as was the mode in those days. No, she left red and white, she said (and hence the reader may imagine how the two ladies hated each other) to Madam Brady, whose yellow complexion no plaster could alter. In a word, she was so accomplished a beauty, that all the women in the country took pattern by her, and the young fellows from ten miles round would ride over to Castle Brady church to have the sight of her. But if (like every other woman that ever I saw or read of) she was proud of her beauty, to do her justice she was still more proud of her son, and has said a thousand times to me that I was the handsomest young fellow in the world. This is a matter of taste. A man of sixty may, however, say what he was at fourteen without much vanity, and I must say I think there was some cause for my mother's opinion. The good soul's pleasure was to dress me ; and on Sundays and holidays I turned out in a velvet coat with a silver-hilted sword by my side and a gold garter at my knee, as fme as any lord in the land. My mother worked me several most splendid waistcoats, and I had plenty of lace for my ruffles, and a fresh riband to my hair, and as we walked to church on Sundays, even envious Mrs. Brady was found to allow that there was not a prettier pair in the kingdom. Of course, too, the lady of Castle Brady used to sneer, because on these occasions a certain Tim, who used to be called my valet, followed me and my mother to church, carrying a huge prayer- book and a cane, and dressed in the livery of one of our own fine footmen from Olarges Street, which, as Tim was a bandy-shanked httle fellow, did not exactly become him. But, though poor, we were gentlefolks, and not to be sneered out of these becoming append- ages to our rank ; and so would march up the aisle to our pew with as much state and gravity as the Lord Lieutenant's lady and son might do. When there, my mother would give the responses and aniens in a loud dignified voice that was delightfiil to hear, and, besides, had a fine loud voice for singing, which art she had per- fected in London under a fashionable teacher ; and she would exercise her talent in such a way that you would hardly hear any other voice of the little congregation which chose to join in the psalm. In fact, my mother had great gifts in every way, and believed herself to be one of the most beautiful, accomplished, and meritorious persons in. BAREYVILLE 11 the world. Often and often has she talked to me and the neigh- bours regarding her own humility and piety, jiointing them out in such a way that I would defy the most obstinate to disbelieve her. When we left Castle Brady we came to occupy a house in Brady's Town, which mamma christened Barryville. I confess it was but a small place, but, indeed, we made the most of it. I hare mentioned the family pedigree which hung up in the drawing-room, which mamma called the yellow saloon, and my bedroom was called the pink bedroom, and hers the orange-tawny apartment (how well I remember them all !) ; and at dinner-time Tim regularly rang a gi'eat bell, and we each had a silver tankard to drink from, and mother boasted with justice that I had as good a bottle of claret by my side as any squire of the land. So indeed I had, but I was not, of course, allowed at my tender years to drink any of the wine; which thus attained a considerable age, even in the decanter. Uncle Brady (in spite of the family quarrel) found out the above fact one day by calling at Barryville at dinner-time, and unluckily tasting the liquor. You should have seen how he sputtered and made faces ! But the honest gentleman was not par- ticular about his wine, or the company in which he drank it. He would get drunk, indeed, with the parson or the priest indifferently ; with the latter, much to my mother's indignation, for, as a true blue Nassauite, she heartily despised all those of the old faith, and would scarcely sit down in the room with a benighted Papist. But the squire had no such scruples ; he was, indeed, one of the easiest, idlest, and best-natured fellows that ever lived, and many an hour would he pass with the lonely widow when he was tired of Madam Brady at home. He liked me, he said, as much as one of his own sons, and at length, after the widow had held out for a couple of years, she agreed to allow me to return to the castle ; though, for herself, she resolutely kept the oath which she had made with regard to her sister-in-law. The very first day I returned to Castle Brady my trials may be said, in a manner, to have begun. My cousin. Master Mick, a huge monster of nineteen (who hated me, and I promise you I returned the compliment), insulted me at dinner about my mother's poverty, and made all the girls of the family titter. So when we went to the stables, whither Mick always went for his pipe of tobacco after dinner, I told him a piece of my mind, and there was a fight for at least ten minutes, diunng which I stood to him like a man, and blacked his left eye, though I was myself only twelve years old at the time. Of course he beat me, but a beating makes only a small impression on a lad of that tender age, as I had proved many times in battles with tlie ragged Brady's Town boys before, 12 THE MEMOIBS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. not one of whom, at my time of life, was my match. My uncle was very much pleased when he heard of my gallantry ; my cousm Nora brought brown paper and vinegar for my nose, and I went home that night with a pint of claret under my girdle, not a little proud, let me tell you, at having held my own against Mick so long. And though he persisted in his bad treatment of me, and used to cane me whenever I fell in his way, yet I was very happy now at Castle Brady with the company there, and my cousins, or some of them, and the kindness of my uncle, with whom I became a prodigious favourite. He bought a colt for me, and taught me to ride. He took me out combing and fowling, and instructed me to shoot flying. And at length I was released from Mick's persecution, for his brother, Master Ulick, returning from Trinity College, and hating his elder brother, as is mostly the way in families of fashion, took me under his protection ; and from that time, as Ulick was a deal bigger and stronger than Mick, I, English Redmond, as I was called, was left alone ; except when the former thought fit to thrash me, which he did whenever he thought proper. Nor was my learning neglected in the ornamental parts, for I had an uncommon natural genius for many things, and soon topped in accomplishments most of the persons around me. I had a quick ear and a fine voice, which my mother cultivated to the best of her power, and she taught me to step a minuet gravely and gracefully, and thus laid the foundation of my future success in life. The common dances I learned (as, perhaps, I ought not to confess) in the servants' hall, which, you may be sure, was never without a piper, and where I was considered unrivalled both at a hornpipe and a jig. In the matter of book-learning, I had always an imcommon taste for reading plays and novels, as the best part of a gentle- man's polite education, and never let a pedlar pass the village, if I had a penny, without having a ballad or two from hiin. As for your dull grammar, and Greek and Latin and stuff, I have always hated them from my youth upwards, and said, very unmistakably, I would have none of them. This I proved pretty clearly at the age of thirteen, when my aunt Biddy Brady's legacy of £100 came in to mamma, who thought to employ the sum on my education, and sent me to Doctor Tobias Tickler's famous academy at Ballywhacket— Backwhacket, as my uncle used to call it. But six weeks after I had been consigned to his reverence, I suddenly made my appearance again at Castle Brady, having walked forty miles from the odious place, and left the Doctor in a state near upon apoplexy. The fact was, that at taw, prison-bars, or boxing, I was at the head of the school, but I SILENCE DR. JOHNSON 13 could not be brought to excel in the classics; and after having been flogged seven times without its doing me the least good in my Latin, I refused to submit altogether (finding it useless) to an eighth application of the rod. " Try some other way, sir," said I, when he was for horsing me once more ; but he wouldn't : whereon, and to defend myself, I flung a slate at him, and knocked down a Scotch usher with a leaden inkstand. All the lads huzzaed at this, and some of the servants wanted to stop me; but taking out a large clasp-knife that my cousin Nora had given me, I swore I would plunge it into the waistcoat of the first man who dared to balk me, and faith they let me pass on. I slept that night twenty miles ofi' BaUywhacket, at the house of a cottier, who gave me potatoes and milk, and to whom I gave a hundred guineas after, when I came to visit Ireland in my days of greatness. I wish I had the money now. But what's the use of regret ? I have had many a harder bed than that I shall sleep on to-night, and many a scantier meal than honest Phil Murphy gave me on the evening I ran away from school. So six weeks' was all the schooling I ever got. And I say this to let parents know the value of it ; for though I have met more learned bookworms in the world, especially a great hulking, clumsy, blear-eyed old doctor, whom they called Johnson, and who lived in a court off Fleet Street, in London, yet I pretty soon silenced him in an argument (at "Button's Coffee-house"); and in that, and in poetry, and what I call natural philosophy, or the science of life, and in riding, music, leaping, the small-sword, the knowledge of a horse, or a main of cocks, and the manners of an accomplished gentleman and a man of fashion, I may say for myself that Redmond Barry has seldom found his equal. " Sir," said I to Mr. Johnson, on the occasion I allude to — he was accom- panied by a Mr. Buswell of Scotland, and I was presented to the club by a. Mr. Goldsmith, a countryman of my own — " Sir," said I, in reply to the schoolmaster's great thundering quotation in Greek, " you fancy you know a great deal more than me, because you quote your Aristotle and your Pluto ; but can you tell me which horse will win at Epsom Downs next week ? — Can you run six miles without breathing? — Can you shoot the ace of spades ten times without missing? If so, talk about Aristotle and Pluto to me." "D'ye knaw who ye're speaking to?" roared out the Scotch gentleman, Mr. Buswell, at this. "Hold your tongue, Mr. Boswell," said the old schoolmaster. " I had no right to brag of my Greek to the gentleman, and he has answered me very well." " Doctor," says I, looking waggishly at him, " do you know ever a rhyme for Anatotle ? " 14 THE MEMOIES OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. " Port, if you pkise," says Mr. Goldsmith, laughing. And we had six rhymes for Aristotle before we left the coffee-house that evening. It became a regular joke afterwards when I told the story, and at "White's" or the "Cocoa-tree" you would hear the wags say, "Waiter, bring me one of Captain Barry's rhymes for Aristotle." Once, when I was in liquor at the latter place, young Dick Sheridan called me a great Staggerite, a joke which I could never understand. But I am wandering from my story, and must get back to home, and dear old Ireland again. I have made acquaintance with the best in the land since, and my manners are such, I have said, as to make me the equal of them all; and, perhaps, you will wonder how a country boy, as I was, educated amongst Irish squires, and their dependants of the stable and farm, should arrive at possessing such elegant manners as I was indisputably allowed to have. I had, the fact is, a very valuable instructor in the person of an old gamekeeper, wlio had served the French king at Fontenoy, and who taught me the dances and customs, and a smattering of the language of that country, with the use of the sword, both small and broad. Many and many a long mile I have trudged by his side as a lad, he telling me wonderful stories of the French king, and the Irish brigade, and Marshal Saxe, and the opera-dancers ; he knew my uncle, too, the Chevalier Borgne, and indeed had a thousand accomplishments which he taught me in secret. I never knew a man like him for making or throwing a fly, for physicking a horse, or breaking, or choosing one ; he taught me manly sports, from birds'-nesting upwards, and I always shall consider Phil Purcell as the very best tutor I could have had. His fault was drink, but for that I have always had a bUnd eye ; and he hated my cousin Mick like poison ; but I could excuse him that too. With Phil, and at the age of fifteen, I was a more acoomplished man than either of my cousins ; and I think Nature had been also more bountiful to me in the matter of person. Some of tlie Castle Brady giris (as you shall hear presently) adored me. At fairs and races many of the prettiest lasses present said they would like to have me for their bachelor ; and yet somehow, it must be confessed, I was not popular. In the first place, every one knew I was bitter poor; and I think, perhaps, it was my good mother's fault that I was bitter proud too. I had a habit of boasting in company of my birth, and the splendour of my carriages, gardens, cellars, and domestics, ^and this before people who were perfectly aware of my real circum- stances. If it was boys, and they ventured to sneer, I would beat them, or die for it ; and many's the time I've been brought home THE OBJECT OF MY FIRST LOVE 15 well-nigh killed by one or more of them, on what, when my mother asked me, I would say was "a family quarrel." "Support your name with your blood, Reddy my boy," would that saint say, with the tears in her eyes ; and so would she herself have done with her voice, ay, and her teeth and nails. Thus, at fifteen, there was scarce a lad of twenty, for half-a- dozen miles round, that I had not beat for one cause or other. There were the vicar's two sons of Castle Brady — in course I could not associate with such beggarly brats as them, and many a battle did we have as to who should take the wall in Brady's Town ; there was Pat Lurgan, the blacksmith's son, who had the better of me four times before we came to the crowning fight, when I overcame him ; and I could mention a score more of my deeds of prowess in that way, but that fisticuff facts are dull subjects to talk of, and to discuss before high-bred gentlemen and ladies. However, there is another subject, ladies, on which I must discourse, and that is never out of place. Day and night you like to hear of it : young and old, you dream and think of it. Hand- some and ugly (and, faith, before fifty, I never saw such a thing afe a plain woman), it's the subject next to the hearts of all of you ; and I think you guess my riddle without more trouble. Love t sure the word is formed on purpose out of the prettiest soft vowels and consonants in the language, and he or she who does not care to read about it is not worth a fig, to my thinking. My uncle's family consisted of ten children ; who, as is the custom in such large families, were divided into two camps, or parties ; the one siding with their mamma, the other taking the part of my uncle in all the numerous quarrels which arose be- tween that gentleman and his lady. Mrs. Brady's faction was headed by Mick, the eldest son, who hated me so, and disliked his father for keeping him out of his property : while Ulick, the second brother, was his father's own boy ; and, in revenge. Master Mick was desperately afraid of him. I need not mention the girls' names ; I had plague enough with them in after-life. Heaven knows ; and one of them was the cause of all my early troubles : this was (though to be sure all her sisters denied it) the belle of the famUy, Miss Honoria Brady by name. She said she was only nineteen at the time ; but I could read the fly-leaf in the family Bible as well as another (it was one of the three books which, with the backgammon-board, formed my uncle's library), and know that she was bom in the year '37, and christened by Doctor Swift, Dean of St. Patrick's, Dublin : hence she was three-and-twenty years old at the time she and I were so much together. 16 THE MEMOIES OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. When I come to think about her now, I know she never could have been handsome ; for her figure was rather of the fattest, and her mouth of the widest ; she was freckled over like a partridge's egg, and her hair was the colour of a certain vegetable which we eat with boiled beef, to use the mildest term. Often and often would my dear mother make these remarks concerning her ; but I did not believe them then, and somehow had gotten to think Honoria an angelical being, far above all the other angels of her sex. And as we know very well that a lady who is skilled in dancing or singing never can perfect herself without a deal of study in private, and that the song or the minuet which is performed with so much graceful ease in the assembly-room has not been acquired without vast labour and perseverance in private ; so it is with the dear creatures who are skilled in coquetting. Honoria, for instance, was always practising, and she would take poor me to rehearse her accom- plishment upon ; or the exciseman, when he came his rounds, or the steward, or the poor curate, or the young apothecary's lad from Brady's Town : whom I recollect beating once for that very reason. If he is alive now I make him my apologies. Poor fellow ! as if it was his fault that he should be a victim to the wiles of one of the greatest coquettes (considering her obscure life and rustic breeding) in the world. If the truth must be told — and every word of this narrative of my life is of the most sacred veracity — my passion for Nora began in a very vulgar and unromantic way. I did not save her life ; on the contrary, I once very nearly killed her, as you shall hear. I did not behold her by moonlight playing on the guitar, or rescue her from the hands of ruffians, as Alfonso does Lindamira in the novel ; but one day after dinner at Brady's Town, in summer, going into the garden to pull gooseberries for my dessert, and thinking only of gooseberries, I pledge my honour, I came upon Miss Nora and one of her sisters, with whom she was friends at the time, who were both engaged in the very same amusement. "What's the Latin for gooseberry, Redmond?" says she. She was always " poking her fun," as the Irish phrase it. ''I know the Latin for goose," says I. " And what's that 1 " cries Miss Mysie, as pert as a peacock. "Bo to you ! " says I (for I had never a want of wit) ; and so we fell to work at the gooseberry-bush, laughing and talking as happy as might be. In the course of our diversion Nora managed to scratch her arm, and it bled, and she screamed, and it was mighty round and white, and I tied it up, and I believe was permitted to kiss her hand ; and though it was as big and clumsy a hand as ever you saw, yet, I thought the favour the most ravish- MILITARY ARDOUR 17 ing one that was ever conferred upon me, and went home in a rapture. I was much too simple a fellow to disguise any sentiment I chanced to feel in those days ; and not one of the eight Castle Brady girls but was soon aware of my passion, and joked and com- plimented Nora about her bachelor. The torments of jealousy the cruel coquette made me endure were horrible. Sometimes she would treat me as a child, sometimes as a man. She would always leave me if ever there came a stranger to the house. " For after all, Redmond," she would say, " you are but fifteen, and you haven't a guinea in the world." At which I would swear that I would become the greatest hero ever known out of Ireland, and vow that before I was twenty I would have money enough to purchase an estate six times as big as Castle Brady. All which vain promises, of course, I did not keep ; but I make no doubt they influenced me iii my very early life, and caused me to do those great actions for which I have been celebrated, and which shall be narrated presently in order. I must tell one of them, just that my dear young lady readers may know what sort of a fellow Redmond Barry was, and what a courage and undaunted passion he had. I question whether any of the jenny-jessamines of the present day would do half as much iu the face of danger. About this time, it must be premised, the United Kingdom was in a state of great excitement from the threat generally credited of a French invasion. The Pretender was said to be in high favour at Versailles, a descent upon Ireland was especially looked to, and the noblemen and people of condition in that and all other parts of the kingdom showed their loyalty by raising regiments of horse and foot to resist the invaders. Brady's Town sent a company to join the Kilwangan regiment, of which Master Mick was the captain ; and we had a letter from Master Ulick at Trinity College, stating that the University had also formed a regiment, in which he had the honour to be a corporal. How I envied them both ! especially that odious Mick, as I saw him in his laced scarlet coat, with a riband in his hat, march off at the head of his men. He, the poor spiritless creature, was a captain, and I nothing, — I who felt I had as much courage as the Duke of Cumberland himself, and felt, too, that a red jacket would mightily become me ! My mother said I was too young to join -the new regiment; but the fact was, that it was she herself who was too poor, for the cost of a new uniform would have swallowed up half her year's income, and she would only have her boy appear in a way suitable to his 18 THE MEMOIES OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. birth, riding the finest of racers, dressed in the best of clothes, and keeping the genteelest of company. Well, then, the whole country was alive with war's alarums, the three kingdoms ringing with military music, and every man of merit paying his devoirs at the court of Bellona, whilst poor I was obliged to stay at home in my fustian jacket and sigh for fame in secret. Mr. Mick came to and fro from the regiment, and brought numerous of his comrades with him. Their costume and swaggering airs filled me with grief, and Miss Nora's unvarying attentions to them served to make me half wild. No one, however, thought of attributing this sadness to the young lady's score, but rather to my disappoint- ment at not being allowed to join the military profession. Once the oificers of the Fencibles gave a grand ball at Kilwangan, to which, as a matter of course, all the ladies of Castle Brady (and a pretty ugly coachful they were) were invited. I knew to what tortures the odious little flirt of a Nora would put me with her eternal coquetries with the officers, and refused for a long time to be one of the party to the ball But she had a way of conquering me, against which all resistance of mine was in vain. She vowed that riding in a coach always made her ill. " And how can I go to the ball," said she, " unless you take me on Daisy behind you on the pillion 1 " Daisy was a good blood-mare of my uncle's, and to such a proposition I could not for my soul say no ; so we rode in safety to Kilwangan, and I felt myself as proud as any prince when she promised to dance a country-dance with me. When the dance was ended, the little ungrateful flirt informed me that she had quite forgotten her engagement ; she had actually danced the set with an Englishman ! I have endured torments in my life, but none like that. She tried to make up for her neglect, but I would not. Some of the prettiest girls there offered to console me, for I was the best dancer in the room. I made one attempt, but was too wretched to continue, and so remained alone all night in a state of agony. I would have played, but I had no money ; only the gold piece that my mother bade me always keep in my purse as a gentleman should. I did not care for drink, or know the dreadful comfort of it in those days ; but I thought of killing myself and Nora, and most certainly of making away with Captain Quin ! At last, and at morning, the ball was over. The rest of our ladies went off in the lumbering creaking old coach ; Daisy was brought out, and Miss Nora "took her place behind me, which I let her do without a word. But we were not half a mile out of town when she began to try with her coaxing and blandishments to dis- sipate my ill-humour. SADDLE AND PILLION 19 " Sure it's a bitter night, Redmond, dear, and you'll catch cold without a handkerchief to your neck." To this sympathetic remark from the pillion, the saddle made no reply. " Did you and Miss Clancy have a pleasant evening, Kedmond 1 You were together, I saw, all night." To this the saddle only replied by grinding his teeth, and giving a lash to Daisy. " mercy ! you'll make Daisy rear and throw me, you careless creature you : and you know, Redmond, I'm so timid." The pillion had by this got her arm round the saddle's waist, and perhaps gave it the gentlest squeeze in the world. " I hate Miss Clancy, you know I do ! " answers the saddle ; "and I only danced with her because — because — the person with whom I intended to dance chose to be engaged the whole night." " Sure there were my sisters," said the pillion, now laughing outright in the pride of her conscious superiority ; " and for me, my dear, I had not been in the room five minutes before I was engaged for every single set." " Were you obliged to dance five times with Captain Quin 1 " said I ; and strange delicious charm of coquetry, I do believe Miss Nora Brady at twenty-three years of age felt a pang of delight in thinking that she had so much power over a guUeless lad of fifteen. Of course she replied that she did not care a fig for Captain Quin : that he danced prettily, to be sure, and was a pleasant rattle of a man ; that he looked well in his regimentals too ; and if he chose to ask her to dance, how could she refuse him 1 " But you refused me, Nora." " Oh ! I can dance with you any day," answered Miss Nora, with a toss of her head ; " and to dance with your cousin at a ball, looks as if you could find no other partner. Besides," said Nora — and this was a cruel, unkind cut, which showed what a power she had over me, and how mercilessly she used it, — " besides, Redmond, Captain Quin's a man, and you are only a boy ! " " If ever I meet him again," I roared out with an oath, " you shall see which is the best man of the two. I'll fight him with sword or with pistol, captain as he is. A man indeed ! I'll fight any man — every man ! Didn't I stand up to Mick Brady when I was eleven years old ? — Didn't I beat Tom Sullivan, the great hulk- ing brute, who is nineteen? — Didn't I do for the Scotch usher'? Oh, Nora, it's cruel of you to sneer at me so ! " But Nora was in the sneering mood that night, and pursued her sarcasms ; she pointed out that Captain Quin was already known as a valiant soldier, famous as a man of fashion in London, and that it was mighty well of Redmond to talk and boast of beating ushers 20 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. and farmers' boys, but to fight an Englishman was a very different matter. . Then she fell to talk of the invasion, and of military matters in general ; of King Frederick (who was called, in those days, the Protestant hero), of Monsieur Thurot and his fleet, of Monsieur Conflans and his squadron, of Minorca, how it was attacked, and where it was ; we both agreed it must be in America, and hoped the French might be soundly beaten there. I sighed after a while (for I was beginning to melt), and said how much I longed to be a soldier ; on which Nora recurred to her infallible, " Ah ! now, would you leave me, then? But, sure, you're not big enough for anything more than a little drummer." To which I replied, by swearing that a soldier I would be, and a genei'al too. As we were chattering in this silly way, we came to a place that has ever since gone by the name of Redmond's Leap Bridge. It was an old high bridge, over a stream sufficiently deep and rocky, and as the mare Daisy with her double load was crossing this bridge. Miss Nora, giving a loose to her imagination, and still harping on the military theme (I would lay a wager that she was thinking of Captain Quin) — Miss Nora said, " Suppose now, Redmond, you, who are such a hero, was passing over the bridge, and the inimy on the other side 1 " "I'd draw my sword, and cut my way through them." " What, with me on the pillion ? Would you kill poor me 1 " (This young lady was perpetually speaking of " poor me ! ") "Well, then, I'll tell you what I'd do. I'd jump Daisy into the river, and swim you both across, where no enemy could follow us." " Jump twenty feet ! you wouldn't dare to do any such thing on Daisy. There's the Captain's horse, Black George, I've heard say that Captain Qui " She never finished the word, for maddened by the continual recurrence of that odious monosyllable, I shouted to her to "hold tight by my waist," and, giving Daisy the spur, in a minute sprang with Nora over the parapet into the deep water below. I don't know why, now — whether it was I wanted to drown myself and Nora, or to perform an act that even Captain Quin should crane at, or whether I fancied that the enemy actually was in front of us, I can't tell now ; but over I went. The horse sank over his head, the girl screamed as she sank and screamed as she rose, and I landed her, half fainting, on the shore, where we were soon found by my uncle's people, who returned on hearing the screams. I went home, and was ill speedily of a fever, which kept me to my bed for six BARRY Lyndon's first love. NEGLECTED BY NORA 21 weeks ; and I quitted my couch prodigiously increased in stature, and, at the same time, still more violently in love than I had been even before. At the commencement of my ilhiess, Miss Nora had been pretty constant in her attendance at my bedside, forgetting, for the sake of me, the quai-rel between my mother and her family; which my good mother was likewise pleased, in the most Christian manner, to forget. And, let me tell you, it was no small mark of goodness in a woman of her haughty disposition, who, as a rule, never forgave anybody, for my sake to give up her hostility to Miss Brady, and to receive her kindly. For, like a mad boy as I was, it was Nora I was always raving about and asking for; I would only accept medicines from her hand, and would look rudely and sulkily upon the good mother, who loved me better than anything else in the world, and gave up even her favourite habits, anabout ; and the regiments which the old Duke had sold recalled from their foreign service : with them came my Countess's beggarly cousin the ensign, and he married her. I don't know whether they were happy or not. It is certain that a woman of such a poor spirit did not merit any very high degree of pleasure. The now reigning Duke of X • himself married four years after his first wife's demise, and Geldern, though no longer Police Minister, built the grand house of which JIadame de Liliengarten spoke. What became of the minor actors in the great tragedy, who knows? Only Monsieur de Strasbourg was restored to his duties. Of the rest — the Jew, the chamber-woman, the spy on Magny — I know nothing. Those sharp tools with which great people cut out their enterprises are generally broken in the using : nor did I ever hear that their employers had much regard for them in their ruin. CHAPTER XIII / CONTINUE MY CAREER AS A MAN OF FASHION I FIND I have already filled up many scores of pages, and yet a vast deal of the most interesting portion of my history remains to be told, viz., that which describes my sojourn in the kingdoms of England and Ireland, and the great part I played there ; moving among the most illustrious of the land, myself not the least dis- tinguished of the brilliant circle. In order to give due justice to this portion of my memoirs, then, — which is more important than my foreign adventures can be (though I could fill volumes with interesting descriptions of the latter), — I shall cut short the account of my travels in Europe, and of my success at the Continental Courts, in order to speak of what befell me at home. Suffice it to say that there is not a capital in Europe, except the beggarly one of Berlin, where the young Chevalier de Balibari was not known and admired ; and where he has not made the brave, the high-born, and the beautiful talk of him. I won eighty thousand roubles from Potemkin at the Winter Palace at Petersburg, which the scoundrelly favom-ite never paid me ; I have had the honour of seeing his Royal Highness the Chevalier Charles Edward as drunk as any porter at Rome ; my uncle played several matches at billiards against the celebrated Lord C at Spa, and I promise you did not come off a loser. In fact, by a neat stratagem of ours, we raised the laugh against his Lord- ship, and something a great deal more substantial. My Lord did not know that the Chevalier Barry had a useless eye ; and when, one day, my uncle playfully bet him odds at billiards that he would play him with a patch over one eye, the noble lord, thinking to bite us (he was one of the most desperate gamblers that ever lived), accepted the bet, and we won a very considerable amount of him. Nor need I mention my successes among the fairer portion of the creation. One of the most accomplished, the tallest, the most athletic, and the handsomest gentlemen of Europe, as I was then, a young fellow of my figure could not fail of having advantages, which a person of my spirit knew very well how to use. But upon these subjects I am dumb. Charming Schuvaloff, black-eyed Sczotarska, dark Valdez, tender Hegenheim, brilliant Langeac ! — ye gentle 158 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. hearts that knew how to beat in old times for the warm young Irish gentleman, where are ye now? Though my hair has grown grey now, and my sight dim, and my heart cold with years, and ennui, and disappointment, and the treachery of friends, yet I have but to lean back in my arm-chair and think, and those sweet figures come rising up before me out of the past, with their smiles, and their kindnesses, and their bright tender eyes ! There are no women like them now — no manners like theirs ! Look you at a bevy of women at the Prince's, stitched up in tight white satin sacks, with their waists under their arms, and compare them to the graceiful figures of the old time ! Why, when I danced with Coralie de Langeac at the fetes on the birth of the first Dauphin at Versailles, her hoop was eighteen feet in circumference, and the heels of her lovely little mules were three inches from the ground ; the lace of my jabot was worth a thousand crowns, and the buttons of my amaranth velvet coat alone cost eighty thousand livres. Look at the difference now ! The gentlemen are dressed like boxers, quakers, or hackney-coach- men; and the ladies are not dressed at all. There is no elegance, no refinement ; none of the chivalry of the old world, of which I form a portion. Think of the fashion of London being led by a Br-mm-1 ! * a nobody's son : a low creature, who can no more dance a minuet than I can talk Cherokee ; who cannot even crack a bottle like a gentleman ; who never showed himself to be a man with his sword in his hand : as we used to approve ourselves in the good old times, before that vulgar Corsican upset the gentry of the world ! Oh, to see the Valdez once again, as on that day I met her first driving in state, with her eight mules and her retinue of gentlemen, by the side of yellow Man9anares ! Oh, for another drive with Hegenheim, in the gilded sledge, over the Saxon snow ! False as Schuvaloff was, 'twas better to be jilted by her than to be adored by any other woman. I can't think of any one of them without tenderness. I have ringlets of all their hair in my poor little museum of recollections. Do you keep mine, you dear souls that survive the turmoils and troubles of near half a hundred years? How changed its colour is now, since the day Sczotarska wore it round her neck, after my duel with Count Bjernaski, at Warsaw. I never kept any beggarly books of accounts in those days. I had no debts. I paid royally for everything I took ; and I took everything I wanted. My income must have been very large. My entertainments and equipages were those of a gentleman of the highest distinction : nor let any scoundrel presume to sneer because I carried off and married my Lady Lyndon (as you shall presently * This manuscript must have been written at the time when Mr. Brummel was the leader of the London fashion. THE COUNTESS OF LYNDON 159 hear), and call me an adventurer, or say I was penniless, or the match unequal. Penniless ! I had the wealth of Europe at my command. Adventurer ! So is a meritorious lawyer or a gallant soldier ; so is every man who makes his own fortune an adventurer. My pro- fession was play : in which I was then unrivalled. No man could play with me through Eiu-ope, on the square ; and my income was just as certain (during health and the exercise of my profession) as that of a man who draws on his Three-per-cents., or any fat squire whose acres bring him revenue. Harvest is not more certain than the effect of skill is : a crop is a chance, as much as a game of cards greatly played by a fine player ; there may be a drought, or a frost, or a hailstorm, and your stake is lost; but one man is just as much an adventurer as another. In evoking the recollection of these kind and fair creatures I have nothing but pleasure. I would I could say as much of the memory of another lady, who will henceforth play a considerable part in the drama of my life, — I mean the Countess of Lyndon ; whose fatal acquaintance I made at Spa, very soon after the events described in the last chapter had caused me to quit Germany. Honoria, Countess of Lyndon, Viscountess Bullingdon in England, Baroness Castle Lyndon of the kingdom of Ireland, was so well known to the great world in her day, that I have little need to enter into her family history ; which is to be had in any Peerage that the reader may lay his hand on. She was, as I need not say, a countess, viscountess, and baroness in her own right. Her estates in Devon and Cornwall were among the most extensive in those parts; her Irish possessions not less magnificent; and they, have been alluded to, in a very early part of these memoirs, as lying near to my own paternal property in the kingdom of Ireland : indeed, unjust confiscations in the time of Elizabeth and her father went to diminish m,y acres, while they added to the already vast possessions of the Lyndon family. The Countess, when I first saw her at the assembly at Spa, was the wife of her cousin, the Eight Honourable Sir Charles Eeginald Lyndon, Knight of the Bath, and Minister to George II. and George III. at several of the smaller Courts of Europe. Sir Charles Lyndon was celebrated as a wit and hon vivant : he could write love-verses against Hanbury WiUiams, and make jokes with George Selwyn ; he was a man of vertu, like Horry Walpole, with whom and Mr. Grey he had made a part of the grand tour ; and was cited, in a word, as one of the most elegant and accomplished men of his time. I made this gentleman's acquaintance as usual at the play-table, of which he was a constant frequenter. Indeed, one could not but 160 THE MEMOIES OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. admire the spirit and gallantry with which he pursued his favourite pastime ; for, though worn out by gout and a myriad of diseases, a cripple wheeled about in a chair, and suffering pangs of agony, yet you would see him every morning and every evening at his post behind the delightfid green cloth : and if, as it would often happen, his own hands were too feeble or inflamed to hold the box, he would call the mains, nevertheless, and have his valet or a friend to throw for him. I like this courageous spirit in a man : the greatest successes in life have been won by such indomitable perseverance. 1 was by this time one of the best-known characters in Europe ; and the fame of my exploits, my duels, my courage at play, would bring crowds around me in any public society where I appeared. I could show reams of scented paper, to prove that this eagerness to make my acquaintance was not confined to the gentle- men only ; but that I hate boasting, and only talk of myself in so far as it is necessary to relate myself s adventures : the most singular of any man's in Europe. Well, Sir Charles Lyndon's first acquaint- ance with me originated in the right honourable knight's winning seven hundred pieces of me at picquet (for which he was almost my match) ; and I lost them with much good-humour, and paid them : and paid them, you may be sure, punctually. Indeed, I will say this for myself, that losing money at play never in the least put me out of good-humour with the winner, and that wherever 1 found a superior, I was always ready to acknowledge and hail him. Lyndon was very proud of winning from so celebrated a person, and we contracted a kind of intimacy; which, however, did not for a while go beyond pump-room attentions, and conversations over the supper-table at play : but which gradually increased, until I was admitted into his more private friendship. He was a very free-spoken man (the gentry of those days were much prouder than at present), and used to say to me in his haughty easy way, " Hang it, Mr. Barry, you have no more manners than a barber, and I think my black footman has been better educated than you ; but you are a young fellow of originality and pluck, and I like you, sir, because you seem determined to go to the deuce by a way of your own." I would thank him laughingly for this compliment, and say, that as he was bound to the next world much sooner than I was, I would be obliged to him to get comfortable quarters arranged there for me. He used also to be immensely amused with my stories about the splendour of my family and the magni- ficence of Castle Brady : he would never tire of listening or laughing at those histories. " Stick to the trumps, however, my lad," he would say, when SIR CHARLES LYNDON 161 I told him of my misfortunes in the conjugal line, and how near I had been winning the greatest fortune in. Germany. "Do anything but marry, my artless Irish rustic " (he called me by a multiplicity of queer names). " Cultivate your great talents in the gambling line ; but mind this, that a woman will beat you." That I denied; mentioning several instances in which I had conquered the most intractable tempers among the sex. " They will beat you in the long run, my Tipperary Alcibiades. As soon as you are married, take my word of it, you are conquered. Look at me. I married my cousin, the noblest and greatest heiress in England — married her in spite of herself almost " (here a dark shade passed over Sir Charles Lyndon's countenance). She is a weak woman. You shall see her, sir, how weak she is ; but she is my mistress. She has embittered my whole life. " She is a fool ; but she has got the better of one of the best heads in Christendom. She is enormously rich ; but somehow I have never been so poor as since I married her. I thought to better myself; and she has made me miserable and killed me. And she will do as much for my successor, when I am gone." " Has her Ladyship a very large income % " said I. At which Sir Charles burst out into a yelling laugh, and made me blush not a little at my gaucherie ; for the fact is, seeing him in the condition in which he was, I could not help speculating upon the chance a man of spirit might have with his widow. "No, no!" said he, laughing. "Waugh hawk, Mr. Barry; don't think, if you value your peace of mind, to stand in my shoes when they are vacant. Besides, I don't think my Lady Lyndon would quite condescend to marry a " " Marry a what, sir ? " said I, in a rage. " Never mind what : but the man who gets her will rue it, take my word on't. A plague on her ! had it not been for my father's ambition and mine (he was her uncle and guardian, and we wouldn't let such a prize out of the famUy), I might have died peaceably, at least; carried my gout down to my grave in quiet, lived in my modest tenement in Mayfair, had every house in England open to me ; and now, now I have six of my own, and every one of them is a hell to me. Beware of greatness, Mr. Barry. Take warning by me. Ever since I have been married and have been rich, I have been the most miserable wretch in the world. Look at me. I am dying a worn-out cripple at the age of fifty. Marriage has added forty years to my life. When I took off Lady Lyndon, there was no man of my years who looked so young -as myself. Fool that I was ! I had enough with my pensions, perfect freedom, the best society in Europe ; and I gave up all these, and married, and was 4 T l62 THE MEMOIRS OP BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. miserable. Take a warning by me, Captain Barry, and stick to tlie trumps." Though my intimacy with the knight was considerable, for a long time I never penetrated into any other apartments of his hotel but those which he himself occupied. His lady lived entirely apart from him ; and it is only curious how they came to travel together at all. She was a goddaughter of old Mary Wortley Montagu : and, like that famous old woman of the last century, made considerable pre- tensions to be a blue-stocking and a bel esprit. Lady Lyndon wrote poems in English and Italian, which still may be read by the curious in the pages of the magazines of the day. She entertained a corre- sporfdence with several of the European savans upon history, science, and ancient languages, and especially theology. Her pleasure was to dispute controversial points with abb& and bishops ; and her flatterers said she rivalled Madame Dacier hi learning. Every adven- turer who had a discovery in chemistry, a new antique bust, or a plan for discovering the philosopher's stone, was sure to find a patroness in her. She had numberless works dedicated to her, and sonnets without end addressed to her by all the poetasters of Europe, under the name of Lindonira or Oalista. Her rooms were crowded with hideous China magots, and all sorts of objects of vertu. No woman piqued herself more upon her principles, or allowed love to be made to her more profusely. There was a habit of court- ship practised by the fine gentlemen of those days, which is little understood in our coarse downright times ; and young and old fellows would poiu- out floods of compliments in letters and madrigals, such as would make a sober lady stare were they addressed to her nowa- days : so entirely has the gallantry of the last century disappeared out of our manners. Lady Lyndon moved about with a little court of her own. She had half-a-dozen carriages in her progresses. In her own she would travel with her companion (some shabby lady of quality), her birds, and poodles, and the favourite savant for the time being. In another would be her female secretary and her waiting-woman; who, in spite of their care, never could make their mistress look much better than a slattern. Sir Charles Lyndon had his own chariot, and the domestics of the establishment would follow in other vehicles. Also must be mentioned the carriage in which rode her Ladyship's chaplain, Mr. Runt, who acted in ;apacity of governor to her son, the little Viscount Bullingdon, — a melancholy deserted little boy, about whom his father was more than indifferent, and whom his mother never saw, except for two minutes at her levee, when she would put to him a few questions of history or Latin grammar ; after LADY LYNDON l63 which he was consigned to his own amusements, or the care of his governor, for the rest of the daj'. The notion of such a Minerva as this, whom I saw in the public places now and then, surrounded by swarms of needy abbfe and schoolmasters, who flattered her, frightened me for some time, and I had not the least desire to make her acquaintance. I had no desire to be one of the beggarly adorers in the great lady's train, — fellows, half friend, half lacquey, who made verses, and wrote letters, and ran errands, content to be paid by a seat in her Ladyship's box at the comedy, or a cover at her dinner-table at noon. " Don't be afraid," Sir Charles Lyndon would say, whose great subject of conversation and abuse was his lady : " my Lindonira will have nothing to do with you. She likes the Tuscan brogue, not that of Kerry. She says you smell too much of the stable to be admitted to ladies' society ; and last Sunday fortnight, when she did me the honour to speak to me last, said, ' I wonder. Sir Charles Lyndon, a gentleman who has been the King's ambassador can demean himself by gambling and boozing with low Irish blacklegs ! ' Don't fly in a fury ! I'm a cripple, and it was Lindonira said it, not I." This piqued me, and I resolved to become acquainted with Lady Lyndon ; if it were but to show her Ladyship that the descendant of those Barrys, whose property she unjustly held, was not an un- worthy companion for any lady, were she ever so high. Besides, my friend the knight was dying : his widow would be the richest prize in the three kingdoms. Why should I not win her, and, with her, the means of making in the world that figure wliich my genius and inclination desired 1 I felt I was equal in blood and breeding to any Lyndon in Christendom, and determined to bend this haughty lady. When I determine, I look upon the thing as done. My uncle and I talked the matter over, and speedily settled upon a method for making our approaches upon this stately lady of Castle Lyndon. Mr. Kuut, young Lord Bullingdon's governor, was fond of pleasure, of a glass of Rhenish in the garden-houses in the summer evenings, and of a sly throw of the dice when the occasion offered; and I took care to make friends with this person, who, being a college tutor and an Englishman, was ready to go on his knees to any one who resembled a man of fashion. Seeing me with my retinue of servants, my vis-a-vis and chariots, my valets, my hussar, and horses, dressed in gold, and velvet, and sables, saluting the greatest people in Europe as we met on the course, or at the Spas, Runt was dazzled by my advances, and was mine by a beckoning of the finger. I shall never forget the poor wretch's astonishment when I asked him to dine, with two counts, off gold plate, at the little room in the casino : he was made happy by being 164 THE MEMOIRS OP BARHY LYNDON, ESQ. allowed to win a few pieces of us, became exceedingly tipsy, sang Cambridge songs, and recreated the company by telling us, in his horrid Yorkshire French, stories about the gyps, and all the lords that had ever been in his college. I encouraged him to come and see me oftener and bring with him his little viscount ; for whom, though the boy always detested me, I took care to have a good stock of sweetmeats, toys, and picture-books when he came. I then began to enter into a controversy with Mr. Runt, and confided to him some doubts which I had, and a very very earnest leaning towards the Church of Rome. I made a certain abb^ whom I knew, write me letters upon transubstantiation, &c., which the honest tutor was rather puzzled to answer. I knew that they would be communicated to his lady, as they were ; for, asking leave to attend the English service which was celebrated in her apartments, and frequented by the best English then at the Spa, on the second Sunday she condescended to look at me ; on the third she was pleased to reply to my profound bow, by a curtsey ; the next day I followed up the acquaintance by another obeisance in the public walk ; and, to make a long story short, her Ladyship and I were in full correspondence on transubstantiation before six weeks were over. My Lady came to the aid of her chaplain ; and then I began to see the prodigious weight of his arguments : as was to be expected. The progress of this harmless little intrigue need not be detailed. I make no doubt every one of my readers has practised similar stratagems when a fair lady was in the case. I shall never forget the astonishment of Sir Charles Lyndon when, on one summer evening, as he was issuing out to the play- table in his sedan-chair, according to his wont, her Ladyship's barouche and four, with her outriders in the tawny livery of the Lyndon family, came driving into the courtyard of the house which they inhabited ; and in that carriage, by her Ladyship's side, sat no other than " the vulgar Irish adventurer," as she was pleased to call him : I mean Redmond Barry, Esquire. He made the most courtly of his bows, and grinned and waved his hat in as graceful a manner as the gout permitted ; and her Ladyship and I rephed to the salutation with the utmost politeness and elegance on our parts. I could not go to the play-table for some time afterwards, for Lady Lyndon and I had an argument on transubstantiation, which lasted for three hours ; in which she was, as usual, victorious, and in which her companion, the Honourable Miss Flint Skinner, fell asleep ; but when, at last, I joined Sir diaries at the casino, he received me with a yell of laughter, as liis wont was, and introduced me to all the company as Lady Lyndon's interesting young convert. SIR CHARLES AT THE CASINO 165 This was his way. He laughed and sneered at everything. He laughed when he was in a paroxysm of pain ; he laughed when he won money, or when he lost it : his laugh was not jovial or agree- able, but rather painful and sardonic. "Gentlemen," said he to Punter, Colonel Loder, Count du Carreau, and several jovial fellows with whom he used to discuss a flask of champagne and a Rhenish trout or two after play, " see this amiable youth ! He has been troubled by religious scruples, and has flown for refuge to my chaplain, Mr. Runt, who has asked for advice from my wife. Lady Lyndon ; and, between them both, they ai'e confirming my ingenious young friend in his faith. Did you ever hear of such doctors, and such a disciple ? " " 'Faith, sir," said I, " if I want to learn good principles, it's surely better I should apply for them to your lady and your chaplain than to you ! " " He wants to step into my shoes ! " continued the knight. " The man would be happy who did so," responded I, " provided there were no chalk-stones included ! " At which reply Sir Charles was not very well pleased, and went on with increased rancour. He was always free-spoken in his cups ; and to say the truth, he was in his cups many more times in a week than his doctors allowed. " Is it not a pleasure, gentlemen," said he, " for me, as I am drawing near the goal, to find my home such a happy one ; my wife so fond of me, that she is even now thinking of appointing a successor 1 (I don't mean you precisely, Mr. Barry ; you are only taking your chance with a score of others whom I could mention.) Isn't it a comfort to see her, like a prudent housewife, getting everything ready for her husband's departure 1 " " I hope you are not thinking of leaving us soon, knight 1 " said I, with perfect sincerity; for I liked him, as a most amusing companion. " Not so soon, my dear, as you may fancy, perhaps,'' continued he. "Why, man, I have been given over any time these four years ; and there was always a candidate or two waiting to apply for the situation. Who knows how long I may keep you waiting t " and he did keep me waiting some little time longer than at that period there was any reason to suspect. As I declared myself pretty openly, according to my usual way, and authors are accustomed to describe the persons of the ladies with whom their heroes fall in love; in compliance with this fashion, I perhaps should say a word or two respecting the charms of my Lady Lyndon. But though I celebrated them in many copies of verses, of my own and other persons' writing ; and though 166 THE MEMOIES OF BAEKY LYNDON, ESQ. I filled reams of paper in the passioiiate style of those days with compliments to every one of her beauties and smiles, in which I compared her to every flower, goddess, or famous heroine ever heard of, — truth compels me to say that there was nothing divine about her at all. She was very well ; but no more. Her shape was iine, her hair dark, her eyes good, and exceedingly active ; she loved singing, but performed it as so great a lady should, very much out of tune. She had a smattering of half-a-dozen modem languages, and, as I have said before, of many more sciences thaii I even knew the name of She piqued herself on knowing Greek and Latin ; but the truth is, that Mr. Runt used to supply her with the quota- tions which she introduced into her voluminous correspondence. She had as much love of admiration, as strong, uneasy a vanity, and as little heart, as any woman I ever knew. Otherwise, when her son. Lord Bullingdon, on account of his differences with me, ran but that matter shall be told in its proper time. Finally, my Lady Lydon was about a year older than myself; though, of course, she would take her Bible oath that she was three years younger. Few men are so honest as I am ; for few will own to their real motives, and I don't care a button about confessing mine. What Sir Charles Lyndon said was perfectly true. I made the acquaint- ance of Lady Lyndon with ulterior vieM's. "Sir," said I to him, when, after the scene described and the jokes he made upon me, we met alone, " let those laugh that win. You were very pleasant upon me a few nights since, and on my intentions regarding your lady. Well, if they are what you think they are, — if I do wish to step into your shoes, what then 1 I have no other intentions than you had yourself. I'll be sworn to muster just as much regard for my Lady Lyndon as you ever showed her ; and if I win her and wear her when you are dead and gone, corbleu, knight, do you think it will be the fear of your ghost will deter me ? " Lyndon laughed as usual ; but somewhat disconcertedly : indeed I had clearly the best of him in the argument, and had juat as much right to hunt my fortune as he had. But one day he said, " If you marry such a woman as my Lady Lyndon, mark my words, you will regret it. You will pine- after the liberty you once enjoyed. By George ! Captain Barry," he added with a sigh, " the thing that I regi-et most in life — perhaps it is because I am old, blasi^, and dying — is, that I never had a virtuous atttachment." " Ha ! ha ! a milkmaid's daugliter ! " said I, laughing at the absurdity. "Well, why not a milkmaid's daughter^ My good fellow, I A MAN OF THE WORLD 167 was in love in youth, as most gentlemen are, with my tutor's daughter, Helena, a bouncing girl ; of course older than myself" (this . made me remember my own little love passages with Nora Brady in the days of my early life), " and do you know, sir, I heartily regret I didn't marry herl There's nothing like having a virtuous drudge at home, sir ; depend upon that. It gives a zest to one's enjoyments in the world, take my word for it. No man of sense need restrict himself, or deny himself a single amusement for his wife's sake : on the contrary, if he select the animal properly, he will choose such a one as shall be no bar to his pleasure, but a comfort in his hours of annoyance. For instance, I have got the gout : who tends me ? A hired valet, who robs me whenever he has the power. My wife never comes near me. What friend have 1 1 None in the wide world. Men of the world, as you and I are, don't make friends ; and we are fools for our pains. Get a friend, sir, and that friend a woman — a good household drudge, who loves you. That is the most precious sort of friendship ; for the expense of it is all on the woman's side. The man needn't contribute anything. If he's a rogue, she'll vow he's an angel ; if he's a brute, she will like him all the better for his ill-treatment of her. They like it sir, these women. They are born to be our greatest comforts and conveniences ; our — our moral bootjacks, as it were ; and to men in your way of life, believe me such a person would be invalu- able. I am only speaking for your bodily and mental comfort's sake, mind. Why didn't I marry poor Helena Flower, the curate's daughter ? " I thought these speeches the remarks of a weakly disappointed man ; although since, perhaps, I have had reason to find the truth of Sir Charles Lyndon's statements. The fact is, in my opinion, that we often buy money very much too dear. To purchase a few thousands a year at the expense of an odious wife, is very bad economy for a young fellow of any talent and spirit : and there have been moments of my life when, in the midst of my greatest splendour and opulence, with half-a-dozen lords at my levfe, with the finest horses in my stables, the grandest house over my head, with, unlimited credit at my banker's, and — Lady Lyndon to boot, I have wished myself back a private of Billow's, or anything, so as to get rid of her. To return, however, to the story. Sir Charles, with his complication of ills, was dying before us by inches ; and I've no doubt it could not have been very pleasant to him to see a young handsome fellow paying court to his widow before his own face as it were. After I once got into the house on the transub- stantiation dispute, I found a dozen more occasions to improve my intimacy, and was scarcely ever out of her Ladyship's doors. The 168 THE MEMOIKS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. world talked and blustered ; but what cared I ? The men cried fie upon the shameless Irish adventurer ; but I have told my way of silencing such envious people ; and my sword had by this time got such a reputation through Europe, that few people cared to en- counter it. If I can once get my hold of a place, I keep it. Many's the house I have been to where I have seen the men avoid me. " Faugh ! the low Irishman ! " they would say. " Bah ! the coarse adventurer ! " " Out on the insufferable blackleg and puppy ! " and so forth. This hatred has been of no inconsiderable service to me in the world ; for when I fasten on a man, nothing can induce me to release my hold : and I am left to myself, which is all the better. As I told Lady Lyndon in those days, with perfect sincerity, " Calista" (I used to caU her Calista in my correspondence) — " Calista, I swear to thee, by the spotlessness of thy own soul, by the brilliancy of thy immitigable eyes, by everything pure and chaste in heaven and in thy own heart, that I will never cease from following thee ! Scorn I can bear, and have borne at thy hands. Indifference I can surmount ; 'tis a rock which my energy will climb over, a magnet which attracts the dauntless iron of my soul ! " And it was true, I wouldn't have left her — no, though they had kicked me downstairs every day I presented myself at her door. That is my way of fascinating women. Let the man who has to make his fortune in life remember this maxim. Attacking is his only secret. Dare, and the world always yields : or, if it beat you sometimes, dare again, and it will succumb. In those days my spirit was so great, that if I had set my heart upon marrying a princess of the blood, I would have had her ! I told Calista my story, and altered very very little of the truth. My object was to frighten her : to show her that what I wanted, that I dared ; that what I dared, that I won ; and there were striking passages enough in my history to convince her of my iron will and indomitable courage. " Never hope to escape me, madam," I would say : " offer to marry another man, and he dies upon this sword, which never yet met its master. Fly from me, and I will follow you, though it were to the gates of Hades." I promise you this was very different language to that she had been in the habit of hearing from her Jemmy-Jessamy adorers. You should have seen how I scared the fellows from her ! When I said in this energetic way that I would follow Lady Lyndon across the Styx if necessary, of course I meant that I would do so, provided nothing more suitable presented itself in the interim. If Lyndon woidd not die, where was the use of my pursuing the Countess 1 And somehow, towards the end of the Spa season,°very LADY LYNDON BECOMES A WIDOW 169 much to my mortification I do confess, the knight made another rally : it seemed as if nothing would kill him. " I am sorry for you, Captain Barry," he would say, laughing as usual. " I'm grieved to keep you, or any gentleman, waiting. Had you not better arrange with my doctor, or get the cook to flavour my omelette with arsenic 'i What are the odds, gentlemen," he would add, " that I don't live to see Captain Barry hanged yet 1 " In fact the doctors tinkered him up for a year. " It's my usual luck," I could not help saying to my uncle, who was my confidential and most excellent adviser in all matters of the heart. " I've been wasting the treasures of my affections upon that flirt of a Countess, and here's her husband restored to health and likely to live I don't know how many years ! " And as if to add to my mortification, there came just at this period to Spa, an English tallow-chandler's heiress, with a plum to her fortune ; and Madame Comu, the widow of a Norman cattle-dealer and farmer-general, with a dropsy and two hundred thousand livres a year. " What's the use of my following the Lyndons to England," says I, "if the knight won't diel" " Don't follow them, my dear simple child," replied my uncle. " Stop here and pay court to the new arrivals." " Yes, and lose Calista for ever, and the greatest estate in all England." " Pooh, pooh ! youths like you easily fire and easily despond. Keep up a correspondence with Lady Lyndon. You know there's nothing she likes so much. There's the Irish abb^, who will write you the most charming letters for a crown apiece. Let her go ; write to her, and meanwhile look out for anything else which may turn up. Who knows ? you might marry the Norman widow, bury her, take her money, and be ready for the Countess against the knight's death." And so, with vows of the most profound respectful attachment, and, having given twenty louis to Lady Lyndon's waiting-woman for a lock of her hair (of which fact, of course, the woman informed her mistress), I took leave of the Countess, when it became neces- sary for her return to her estates in England; swearing I would foUow her as soon as an affair of honom: I had on my hands could be brought to an end. I shall pass over the events of the year that ensued before I again saw her. She wrote to me according to promise ; with much regularity at first, with somewhat less frequency afterwards. My affairs, meanwhile, at the play-table went on not unprosperously, and I was just on the point of marrying the widow Comu (we were at Brussels by this time, and the poor soul was madly in love with 170 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. me), when the London Gazette was put into my hands, and I read the following announcement : — " Died at Castle Lyndon, in the kingdom of Ireland, the Right Honourable Sir Charles Lyndon, Knight of the Bath, Member of Parliament for Lyndon in Devonshire, and many years his Majesty's representative at various European Courts. He hath left behind him a name which is endeared to all his friends for his manifold virtues and talents, a reputation justly acquired in the service of his Majesty, and an inconsolable widow to deplore his loss. Her Ladyship, the bereaved Countess of Lyndon, was at the Bath when the horrid intelligence reached her of her husband's demise, and hastened to Ireland immediately in order to pay her last sad duties to his beloved remains." That very night I ordered my chariot and posted to Ostend, whence I freighted a vessel to Dover, and travelling rapidly into the West, reached Bristol ; from which port I embarked for Waterford, and found myself, after an absence of eleven years, in my native country. CHAPTER XIV I RETURN TO IRELAND, AND EXHIBIT MY SPLENDOUR AND GENEROSITY IN THAT KINGDOM HOW were times changed with me now ! I had left my country a poor penniless boy — a private soldier in a miser- able marching regiment. I retm-ned an accomplished man, with property to the amount of five thousand guineas in my posses- sion, with a splendid wardrobe and jewel-case worth two thousand more ; having mingled in all the scenes of life a not undistinguished actor in them ; having shared in war and in love ; having by my own genius and energy won my way from poverty and obscurity to competence and splendour. As I looked out from my chaiiot windows as it rolled along over the bleak bare roads, by the miserable cabins of the peasantry, who came out in their rags to stare as the splendid equipage passed, and huzzaed for his Lord- ship's honour as they saw the magnificent stranger in the superb gilded vehicle, my huge body-servant Fritz lolling behind with curling moustaches and long queue, his green livery barred with silver lace, I could not help thinking of myself with considerable complacency, and thanking my stars that had endowed me with so many good qualities. But for my own merits I should have been a raw Irish squireen such as those I saw swaggering about the wretched towns through which my chariot passed on its road to Dublin. I might have married Nora Brady (and though, thank Heaven, I did not, I have never thought of that girl but with kindness, and even remember the bitterness of losing her more clearly at this moment than any other incident of my life) ; I might have been the father of ten children by this time, or a farmer on my own account, or an agent to a squire, or a ganger, or an attorney ; and here I was one of the most famous gentlemen of Europe ! I bade my fellow get a bag of copper money and throw it among the crowd as we changed horses ; and I warrant me there was as much shouting set up in praise of my honour as if my Lord Townshend, the Lord Lieutenant himself, had been passing. My second day's journey — for the Irish roads were rough in 172 THE MEMOIRS OP BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. those days, and the progress of a gentleman's chariot terribly slow — brought me to Carlow, where I put up at the very inn which I had used eleven years back, when flying from home after the supposed murder of Quin in the duel. How well I remember every moment of the scene ! The old landlord was gone who had served me; the inn that I then thought so comfortable looked wretched and dismantled; but the claret was as good as in the old days, and I had the host to partake of a jug of it and hear the news of the country. He was as communicative as hosts usually are : the crops and the markets, the price of beasts at last Castle Dermot fair, the last story about the vicar, and the last joke of Father Hogan the priest ; how the Whiteboys had burned Squire Scanlan's ricks, and the highwaymen had been beaten off in their attack upon Sir Thomas's house; who was to hunt the Kilkenny hounds next season, and the wonderful run entirely they had last March ; what troops were in the town, and how Miss Biddy Toole had run off with Ensign Mullins : all the news of sport, assize, and quarter- sessions were detailed by this worthy chronicler of small-beer, who wondered that my honour hadn't heard of them in England, or in foreign parts, where he seemed to think the world was as interested as he was about the doings of Kilkenny and Carlow. I listened to these tales with, I own, a considerable pleasure ; for every now and then a name would come up in the conversation which I re- membered in old days, and bring with it a hundred associations connected with them. I had received many letters from my mother, which informed me of the doings of the Brady's Town family. My uncle was dead, and Mick, his eldest son, had followed him too to the grave. The Brady girls had separated from their paternal roof as soon as their elder brother came to rule over it. Some were married, some gone to settle with their odious old mother in out-of-the-way watering-places. Ulick, though he had succeeded to the estate, had come in for a bankrupt property, and Castle Brady was now inhabited only by the bats and owls, and the old gamekeeper. My mother, Mrs. Harry Barry, had gone to live at Bray, to sit under Mr. Jowls, her favourite preacher, who had a chapel there ; and, finally, the land- lord told me, that Mrs. Barry's son had gone to foreign parts, enlisted in the Prussian service, and had been shot there as a deserter. I don't care to own that I hired a stout nag from the landlord's stable after dinner, and rode back at nightfall twenty miles to my old home. My heart beat to see it. Barryville had got a pestle and mortar over the door, and was called " 'The Esculapian Reposi- tory," by Doctor Macshane; a red-headed lad was spreading a I EEVISIT MY OLD HOME 173 plaster in the old parlour ; the little ■window of my room, once so neat and bright, was cracked in many places, and stuffed with rags here and there ; the flowers had disappeared from the trim garden- beds which my good orderly mother tended. In the churchyard there were two more names put into the stone over the family vault of the Bradys : they were those of my cousin, for whom my regard was small, and my uncle, whom I had always loved. I asked .my old companion the blacksmith, who had beaten me so often in old days, to give my horse a feed and a litter : he was a worn weary- looking man now, with a dozen dirty ragged children paddling about his smithy, and had no recollection of the fine gentleman who stood before him. I did not seek to recall myself to his memory till the next day, when I put ten guineas into his hand, and bade him drink the health of EngUsh Redmond. As for Castle Brady, the gates of the park were still there ; but the old trees were cut down in the avenue, a black stump jutting out here and there, and casting long shadows as I passed in the moonlight over the worn grass-grown old road. A few cows were at pasture there. The garden-gate was gone, and the place a tangled wilderness. I sat down on the old bench, where I had sat on the day when Nora jilted me ; and I do believe my feelings were as strong then as they had been when I was a boy, eleven years before ; and I caught myself almost crying again, to think that Nora Brady had deserted me. I believe a man forgets nothing. I've seen a flowei-, or heard some trivial word or two, which have awakened recollections that somehow had lain dormant for scores of years ; and when I entered the house in Clarges Street, where I was bom (it was used as a gambling-house when I first visited London), all of a sudden the memory of my childhood came back to me — of my actual infancy : I recollected my father in green and gold, hold- ing me up to look at a gilt coach which stood at the door, and my mother in a flowered sack, with patches on her face. Some day, I wonder, will everything we have seen and thought and done come and flash across our minds in this way 1 I had rather not. I felt so as I sat upon the bench at Castle Brady, and thought of the bygone times. The hall-door was open — it was always so at that house ; the moon was flaring in at the long old windows, and throwing ghastly chequers upon the floors ; and the stars were looking in on the other side, in the blue of the yawning window over the gi-eat stair : from it you could see the old stable-clock, with the letters glistening on it still. There had been jolly horses in those stables once ; and I could sec my uncle's honest face, and hear him talking to his dogs as they came jumping and whining and barking round about him of 174 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. a gay winter morning. We used to mount there ; and the girls looked out at us from the hall-window, where I stood and looked at the sad, mouldy, lonely old place. There was a red light shining through the crevices of a door at one corner of the building, and a dog presently came out baying loudly, and a limping man followed with a fowling-piece. " Who's there 1 " said the old man. " Phil Puecell, don't you know me 1 " shouted I ; " it's Red- mond Barry." I thought the old man would have fired his piece at me at first, for he pointed it at the window ; but I called to him to hold his hand, and came down and embraced him. . . Psha ! I don't care to tell the rest : Phil and I had a long night, and talked over a thousand foolish old things that have no interest for any sovd alive now : for what soul is there alive that cares for Barry Lyndon ? I settled a hundred guineas on the old man when I got to Dublin, and made him an annuity which enabled him to pass his old days in comfort. Poor Phil Purcell was amusing himself at a game of exceedingly dirty cards with an old acquaintance of mine ; no other than Tim, who was called my " valet " in the days of yore, and whom the reader may remember as clad in my father's old liveries. They used to hang about him in those times, and lap over his wrists and down to his heels ; but Tim, though he protested he had nigh killed him- self with grief when I went away, had managed to grow enormously fat in my absence, and would have fitted almost into Daniel Lambert's coat, or that of the vicar of Castle Brady, whom he served in the capacity of clerk. I would have engaged the fellow in my service but for his monstrous size, which rendered him quite unfit to be the attendant of any gentleman of condition ; and so I presented him with a handsome gratuity, and promised to stand godfather to his next child : the eleventh since my absence. There is no country in the world where the work of multiplying is carried on so prosperously as in my native island. Mr. Tim had married the girls' waiting- maid, who had been a kind friend of mine in the early times ; and I had to go salute poor Molly next day, and found her a slatternly wench in a mud hut, surrounded by a brood of children almost as ragged as those of my friend the blacksmith. From Tim and Phil Purcell, thus met fortuitously together, I got the very last news respecting my family. My mother was well. " 'Faith, sir," says Tim, " and you're come in time, mayhap, for preventing an addition to your family." " Sir ! " exclaimed I, in a fit of indignation. SCENES OF MY BOYHOOD 175 "In the shape of father-in-law, I mane, sir," says Tim; "the misthress is going to take on with Mister Jowls i\i& praaeher." Poor Nora, he added, had made many additions to the illustrious race of Quin ; and my cousin Ulick was in Dublin, coming to little good, both my informants feared, and having managed to run through the small available remains of property which my good old uncle had left behind him. I saw I should have no small family to provide for ; and then, to conclude the evening, Phil, Tim, and I had a bottle of usquebaugh, the taste of which I had remembered for eleven good years, and did not part except with the warmest terms of fellowship, and until the sun had been some time in the sky. I am exceedingly affable : that has always been one of my characteristics. I have no false pride, as many men of high lineage like my own have, and, in default of better company, will hob and nob with a ploughboy or a private soldier just as readily as with the first noble in the land. I went back to the village in the morning, and found a pretext for visiting Barryville under a device of purchasing drugs. The hooks were still in the wall where my silver-hilted sword used to hang; a blister was lying on the window-sill, where my mother's " Whole Duty of Man " had its place ; and the odious Doctor Macshane had found out who I was (my countrymen find out every- thing, and a great deal more besides), and sniggering, asked me how I left the King of Prussia, and whether my friend the Emperor Joseph was as much liked as the Empress Maria Theresa had been. The bell-ringers would have had a ring of bells for me, but there was but one, Tim, who was too fat to pull ; and I rode off before the vicar. Doctor Bolter (who had succeeded old Mr. Texter, who had the living in my time), had time to come out to compliment me ; but the rapscallions of the beggarly village had assembled in a dirty army to welcome me, and cheered " Hurrah for Masther Redmond ! " as I rode away. My people were not a httle anxious regarding me, by the time I returned to Carlow, and the landlord was very much afraid, he said, that the highwaymen had gotten hold of me. There, too, my name and station had been learned from my servant Fritz ; who had not spared his praises of his master, and had invented some magnifi- cent histories concerning me. He said it was the truth that I was intimate with half the sovereigns of Europe, and the prime favourite with most of them. Indeed I had made my uncle's order of the Spur hereditary, and travelled under the name of the Chevalier Barry, chamberlain to the Duke of Hohenzollem Sigmaringen. "Tliey gave me the best horses the stable possessed to carry me on my road to Dublin, and the strongest ropes for harness ; and we 176 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. got on pretty well, and there was no rencontre between the highway- men and the pistols with which Fritz and I were provided. We lay that night at Kilcullen, and the next day I made my entry into the city of Dublin, with four horses to my carriage, five thousand guineas in my purse, and one of the most brilliant reputations in Europe, having quitted the city a beggarly boy, eleven years before. The citizens of Dublin have as great and laudable a desire for knowing their neighbours' concerns as the country people have ; and it is impossible for a gentleman, however modest his desires may be (and such mine have notoriously been through life), to enter the capital without having his name printed in every newspaper and mentioned in a number of societies. My name and titles were all over the town the day after my arrival. A great number of polite persons did me the honour to call at my lodgings, when I selected them ; and this was a point very necessarily of immediate care, for the hotels in the town were but vulgar holes, unfit for a nobleman of my fashion and elegance. I had been informed of the fact by travellers on the Continent ; and determining to fix on a lodging at once, I bade the drivers go slowly up and down the streets with my chariot, until I had selected a place suitable to my rank. This proceeding, and the uncouth questions and behaviour of my German Fritz, who was instructed to make inquiries at the different houses until convenient apartments could be lighted upon, brought an immense mob round my coach ; and by the time the rooms were chosen you might have supposed I was the new General of the Forces, so great was the multitude following us. I fixed at length upon a handsome suite of apartments in Capel Street, paid the ragged postillions who had driven me a splendid gratuity, and establishing myself in the rooms with my baggage and Fritz, desired the landlord to engage me a second fellow to wear my liveries, a couple of stout reputable chairmen and their machine, and a coachman who had handsome job-horses to hire for my chariot, and serviceable riding-horses to sell. I gave him a handsome sum in advance ; and I promise you the effect of my advertisement was such, that next day I had a regular lev^e in my antechamber : grooms, valets, and maltres - d'h6tel offered themselves without number; I had proposals for the purchase of horses sufiicient to mount a regiment, both from dealers and gentlemen of the first fashion. Sir Lawler Gawler came to propose to me the most elegant bay-mare ever stepped; my Lord Dundoodle had a team of four that wouldn't disgrace my friend the Emperor ; and the Marquess of Ballyragget sent his gentleman and his compliments, stating that if I would step up to his stables, or do him the honour DUBLIN AS IT WAS IN 1771 177 of breakfasting with him previously, he would show me the two finest greys in Europe. I determined to accept the invitations of Dundoodle and Ballyragget, but to purchase my horses from the dealers. It is always the best way. Besides, in those days, in Ireland, if a gentleman warranted his horse, and it wa.s not sound, or a dispute arose, the remedy you had was the offer of a bullet in your waistcoat. I had played at the bullet game too much in earnest to make use of it heedlessly : and I may say, proudly for myself, that I never engaged in a duel unless I had a real, available, and prudent reason for it. There was a simplicity about this Irish gentry which amused and made me wonder. If they tell more fibs than their downright neighbours across the water, on the other hand they believe more ; and I made myself in a single week such a reputation in Dublin as would take a man ten years and a mint of money to acquire in London. I had won five hundred thousand pounds at play ; I was the favourite of the Empress Catherine of Russia ; the confidential agent of Frederick of Prussia ; it was I won the battle of Hoch- kirchen ; I was the cousin of Madame Du Barry, the French King's favourite, and a thousand things beside. Indeed, to tell the truth, I hinted a number of these stories to my kind friends BaUyragget and Gawler ; and they were not slow to improve the hints I gave them. After having witnessed the splendours of civilised life abroad, the sight of Dublin in the year 1771, when I returned thither, struck me with anything but respect. It was as savage as Warsaw almost, without the regal grandeur of the latter city. The people looked more ragged than any race I have ever seen, except the gipsy hordes along the banks of the Danube. There was, as I have said, not an inn in the town fit for a gentleman of condition to dwell in. Those luckless fellows who could not keep a carriage, and walked the streets at night, ran imminent risks of the knives of the women and ruffians who lay in wait there, — of a set of ragged savage villains, who neither knew the use of shoe nor razor ; and as a gentleman entered his chair or his chariot, to be carried to his evening rout, or the play, the flambeaux of the footmen would light up such a set of wild gibbering Milesian faces as would frighten a genteel person of average nerves. I was luckily endowed with strong ones ; besides, had seen my amiable countrymen before. I know this description of them will excite anger among some Irish patriots, who don't like to have the nakedness of our land abused, and are angry if the whole truth be told concerning it. But bah ! it was a poor provincial place, Dublin, in the old days of which I speak j and many a tenth-rate German residency is 178 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. more genteel. There were, it is true, near three hundred resident Peers at the period ; and a House of Commons ; and my Lord Mayor and his corporation ; and a roystering noisy University, whereof the students made no small disturbances nightly, patronised the roundhouse, ducked obnoxious printers and tradesmen, and gave the law at the Crow Street Theatre. But I had soon too much of the first society of Europe to be much tempted by the society of these noisy gentry, and was a little too much of a gentleman to mingle with the disputes and politics of my Lord Mayor and his Aldermen. In tlie House of Commons there were some dozen of right pleasant fellows. I never heard in the English Parliament better speeches than from Flood, and Daly, of Galwa}'. Dick Sheridan, though not a well-bred person, was as amusing and ingenious a table-companion as ever I met; and though during Mr. Edmund Burke's interminable speeches in the English House I used always to go to sleep, I yet have heard from well-informed parties that Mr. Burke was a person of considerable abilities, and even reputed to be eloquent in his more favourable moments. I soon began to enjoy to the full extent the pleasures that the wretched place affords, and which were within a gentleman's reach : Ranelagh and the Ridotto ; Mr. Mossop, at Crow Street ; my Lord Lieutenant's parties, where there was a great deal too much boozing, and too little play, to suit a person of my elegant and refined habits; "Daly's Coffee-house," and the houses of the nobility, were soon open to me ; and I remarked with astonishment in the higher circles, what I had experienced in the lower on my first unhappy visit to Dublin, an extraordinary want of money, and a preposterous deal of promissory notes flying about, for which I was quite un- wilhng to stake my guineas. The ladies, too, were mad for play ; but exceeding unwilling to pay when they lost. Thus, when the old Countess of Trumpington lost ten pieces to me at quadrille, she gave me, instead of the money, her Ladyship's note of hand on her agent in Galway ; which I put, with a great deal of politeness, into the candle. But when the Countess made me a second proposition to play, I said that as soon as her Ladyship's remittances were arrived, I would be the readiest person to meet her ; but till then was her very humble servant. And I maintained this resolution and singular character throughout the Dublin society : giving out at " Daly's " that I was ready to play any man, for any sum, at any game ; or to fence with him, or to ride with him (regard being had to our weight), or to shoot flying, or at a mark ; and in this latter accomplishment, especially if the mark be a live one, Irish gentlemen of that day ha(l no ordinary skill. Of course I despatched a courier in my liveries to Castle Lyndon I OPEN MY ATTACK ON LADY LYNDON 179 ■with a private letter for Runt, demanding from him full particulars of the Countess of Lyndon's state of health and mind ; and a touch- ing and eloquent letter to her Ladyship, in which I bade her remember ancient days, which I tied up with a single hair from the lock which I had purchased from her woman, and in which I told her that Sylvander remembered his oath, and could never forget his Calista. The answer I received from her was exceed- ingly unsatisfactory and inexphcit ; that from Mr. Runt explicit enough, but not at all pleasant in its contents. My Lord George Poynings, the Marquess of Tiptoff's younger son, was paying very marked addresses to the widow ; being a kinsman of the family, and having been called to Ireland relative to the will of the deceased Sir Charles Lyndon. Now, there was a sort of rough-and-ready law in Ireland in those days, which was of great convenience to persons desirous of expedi- tious justice : and of which the newspapers of the time contain a hundred proofs. Fellows with the nicknames of Captain Fireball, Lieutenant Buffcoat, and Ensign Steele, were repeatedly sending warning letters to landlords, and murdering them if the notes were unattended to. The celebrated Captain Thunder ruled in the southern counties, and his business seemed to be to procure wives for gentle- men who had not suflBcient means to please the parents of the young ladies j or, perhaps, had not time for a long and intricate courtship. I had found my cousin LTlick at Dublin, grown very fat, and very poor ; hunted up by Jews and creditors ; dwelling in all sorts of queer corners, from which he issued at nightfall to the Castle, or to his card-party at his tavern ; but he was always the courageous fellow : and I hinted to him the state of my affections regarding Lady Lyndon. " The Countess of Lyndon ! " said poor Ulick ; " well, that is a wonder. I myself have been mightily sweet upon a young lady, one of the Kiljoys of Ballyhack, who has ten thousand pounds to her fortune, and to whom her Ladyship is guardian ; but how is a poor fellow without a coat to his back to get on with an heiress in such company as that 1 I might as well propose for the Countess myself" " You had better not," said I, laughing ; " the man who tries runs a chance of going out of the world first." And I explained to him my own intention regarding Lady Lyndon. Honest Ulick, whose respect for me was prodigious when he saw how splendid my appearance was, and heard how wonderful my adventures and great my experience of fashionable life had been, was lost in admiration of my daring and energy, when I confided to him my intention of marry- ing the greatest heiress in England. I bade Ulick go out of town on any pretext he choose, and put a 180 THE MEMOIRS OE BAERY LYNDON, ESQ. letter into a post-ofiSce near Castle Lyndon, which I prepared in a feigned hand, and in which I gave a solemn warning to Lord George Poynings to quit the country ; saying that the great prize was never meant for the likes of him, and that there were heiresses enough in England, without coming to rob them out of the domains of Captain Fireball. The letter was written on a dirty piece of paper, in the worst of spelling : it came to my Lord by the pos1>conveyance, and, being a high-spirited young man, he of course laughed at it. As ill-luck would have it for him, he appeared in Dublin a very short time afterwards; was introduced to the Chevalier Redmond Barry, at the Lord Lieutenant's table; adjourned with him and several other gentlemen to the club at "Daly's," and there, in a dispute abont the pedigree of a horse, in which everybody said I was in the right, words arose, and a meeting was the consequence. I had had no affair in Dublin since my arrival, and people were anxious to see whether I was equal to my reputation. I make no boast about these matters, but always do them when the time comes ; and poor Lord George, who had a neat hand and a quick eye enough, but was bred in the clumsy English school, only stood before my point until I had determined where I should hit him. My sword went in under his guard, and came out at his back. When he fell, he good-naturedly extended his hand to me, and said, " Mr. Barry, I luas wrong !" I felt not very well at ease when the poor fellow made this confession ; for the dispute had been of my making, and, to tell the truth, I had never intended it should end in any other way than a meeting. He lay on his bed for four months with the eflfects of that wound ; and the same post which conveyed to Lady Lyndon the news of the duel, carried her a message from Captain Fireball to say, " This is NUMBEE ONE ! " "You, Ulick," said I, "shall be number two." " 'Faith," said my cousin, " one's enough ! " But I had my plan regarding him, and determined at once to benefit this honest fellow, and to forward my own designs upon the widow. CHAPTER XV I PAY COURT TO MY LADY LYNDON AS my uncle's attainder was not reversed for being out with the Pretender in 1745, it would have been inconvenient for him to accompany his nephew to the land of our ancestors ; where, if not hanging, at least a tedious process of imprisonment, and a doubtful pardon, would have awaited the good old gentleman. In any important crisis of my life, his advice was always of advan- tage to me, and I did not fail to seek it at this juncture, and to implore his counsel as regarded my pursuit of the widow. I told him the situation of her heart, as I have described it in the last chapter ; of the progress that young Poyniugs had made in her affections, and of her forgetfulness of her old admirer ; and I got a letter, in reply, full of excellent suggestions, by which I did not fail to profit. The kind Chevalier prefaced it by saying, that he was for the present boarding in the Minorite convent at Brussels ; that he had thoughts of making his salut there, and retiring for ever from the world, devoting himself to the severest practices of religion. Mean- while he wrote with regard to the lovely widow : it was natural that a person of her vast wealth and not disagreeable person should have many adorers about her ; and that, as in her husband's lifetime she had shown herself not at all disinclined to receive my addresses, I must make no manner of doubt I was not the first person whom she had so favoured ; nor was I likely to be the last. " I would, my dear child," he added, " that the ugly attainder round my neck, and the resolution I have formed of retiring from a world of sin and vanity altogether, did not prevent me from coming personally to your aid in this delicate crisis of your affairs ; for, to lead them to a good end, it requires not only the indomitable courage, swagger, and audacity which you possess beyond any young man I have ever known " (as for the " swagger," as the Chevalier calls it, I deny it in toto, being always most modest in my demeanour) ; " but though you have the vigour to execute, you have not the ingenuity to suggest plans of conduct for the following out of a scheme that is likely to be long and difficult of execution. Would you have ever 182 THE MEMOIES OP BARKY LYNDON, ESQ. thought of the briUiant scheme of the Countess Ida, which so nearly- made you the greatest fortune in Europe, but for the advice and experience of a poor old man, now making up his accounts with the world, and about to retire from it for good and all 1 "Well, with regard to the Countess of Lyndon, your manner of winning her is quite en I'air at present to me ; nor can I advise day by day, as I would I could, according to circumstances as they arise. But yom- general scheme should be this. If I remember the letters you used to have from her during the period of the correspondence which the silly woman entertained you with, much high-flown senti- ment passed between you ; and especially was written by her Lady- ship herself : she is a blue-stocking, and fond of writing ; she used to make her griefs with her husband the continual theme of her corre- spondence (as women will do). I recollect several passages in her letters bitterly deploring her fate in being united to one so unworthy of her. " Surely, in the mass of billets you possess from her, there must be enough to compromise her. Look them well over, select passages, and threaten to do so. Write to her at first in the undoubting tone of a lover wlm has every claim upon her. Then, if she is silent, remonstrate, alluding to former promises from her ; producing proofs of her former regard for you ; vowing despair, destruction, revenge, if she prove unfaithful. Frighten her — astonish her by some daring feat, which wiU let her see your indomitable resolution : you are the man to do it. Your sword has a reputation in Europe, and you have a character for boldness ; which was the first thing that caused my Lady Lyndon to turn her eyes upon you. Make the people talk about you at Dublin. Be as splendid, and as brave, and as odd as possible. How I wish I were near you ! You have no imagination to invent such a character as I would make for you — but why speak ; have I not hail enough of the world and its vanities 1 " There was much practical good sense in this advice ; which I quote, unaccompanied with the lengthened description of his mortifi- cations and devotions which my uncle indulged in, finishing his letters, as usual, with earnest prayers for my conversion to the true faith. But he was constant to his form of worship ; and I, as a man of honour and principle, was resolute to mine ; and have no doubt that the one, in this respect, will be as acceptable as the other. Under these directions it was, then, I wrote to Lady Lyndon, to ask on my arrival when the most respectful of her admirers might be permitted to intrude upon her grief! Then, as her Ladyship was silent, I demanded. Had she forgotten old times, and one whom she had favoured with her intimacy at a very happy period^ Had Calista forgotten Eugenio 1 At the same time I sent down by my MY MOTHER 183 servant with this letter a present of a little sword for Lord BuUingdon, and a private note to his governor : whose note of hand, by the way, I possessed for a sum — I forget what — but such as the poor fellow would have been very unwilling to pay. To this an answer came from her Ladyship's amanuensis, stating that Lady Lyndon was too much disturbed by grief at her recent dreadful calamity to see any one but her own relations ; and advices from my friend, the boy's governor, stating that my Lord George Poynings was the young kins- man who was about to console her. This caused the quarrel between me and the young nobleman ; whom I took care to challenge on his fii-st arrival at Dublin. When the news of the duel was bro>ight to the widow at Castle Lyndon, my informant wrote me that Lady Lyndon shrieked and flung down the journal, and said, " The homble monster ! He would not shrink from murder, I believe ; " and little Lord BuUingdon, drawing his sword — the sword I had given him, the rascal ! — declared he would kill with it the man who had hurt Cousin George. On Mr. Runt telling him that I was the donor of the weapon, the little rogue stiU vowed that he would kill me all the same ! In- deed, in spite of my kindness to him, that boy always seemed to detest me. Her Ladyship sent up daily couriers to inquire after the health of Lord George ; and, thinking to myself that she would probably be induced to come to Dublin if she were to hear that he was in danger, I managed to have her informed that he was in a precarious state ; that he grew worse ; that Redmond Barry had fled in conse- quence : of this flight I caused the Mercury newspaper to give notice also, but indeed it did not carry me beyond the town of Bray, where my poor mother dwelt ; and where, under the diflBculties of a duel, I might be sure of having a welcome. Those readers who have the sentiment of filial duty strong in their mind, will wonder that I have not yet described my interview with that kind mother whose sacrifices for me in youth had been so considerable, and for whom a man of my warm and affectionate nature could not but feel the most enduring and sincere regard. But a man, moving in the exalted sphere of society in which I now stood, has his public duties to perform before he consults his private afiections; and so, upon my first arrival, I despatched a messenger to Mrs. Barry, stating my arrival, conveying to her my sentiments of respect and duty, and promising to pay them to her personally so soon as my business in Dublin would leave me free. This, I need not say, was very considerable. I had my horses to buy. my establishment to arrange, my entree into the genteel 184 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. world to make ; and, having announced my intention to purchase horses and live in a genteel style, was in a couple of days so pestered by visits of the nobility and gentry, and so hampered by invitations to dinners and suppers, that it became exceedingly difficult for me during some days to manage my anxiously desired visit to Mrs. Barry. It appears that the good soul provided an entertainment as soon as she heard of my arrival, and invited all her humble acquaintances of Bray to be present ; but I was engaged subsequently to my Lord Ballyragget on the day appointed, and was, of course, obliged to break the promise that I had made to Mrs. Barry to attend her humble festival. I endeavoured to sweeten the disappointment by sending my mother a handsome satin sack and velvet robe, which I purchased for her at the best mercers in Dublin (and indeed told her I had brought from Paris expressly for her) ; but the messenger whom I despatched with the presents brought back the parcels, with the piece of satin torn half way up the middle : and I did not need his descriptions to be aware that something had oflFended the good lady ; who came out, he said, and abused him at the door, and would have boxed his ears, but that she was restrained by a gentleman in black ; who I concluded, with justice, was her clerical friend Mr. Jowls. This reception of my presents made me rather dread than hope for an interview with Mrs. Barry, and delayed my visit to her for some days further. I wrote her a dutiful and soothing letter, to which there was no answer returned ; altliough I mentioned that on my way to the capital I had been at Barryville, and revisited the old haunts of my youth. I don't care to own that she is the only human being whom I am afraid to face. I can recollect her fits of anger as a child, and the reconciliations, which used to be still more violent and painful ; and so, instead of going myself, I sent my factotum, Ulick Brady, to her ; who rode back, saying that he had met with a reception he would not again undergo for twenty guineas: that he had been dismissed the house, with strict injunctions to inform me that my mother disowned me for ever. This parental anathema, as it were, affected me much, for I was always the most dutiful of sons ; and I determined to go as soon as possible, and brave what I knew must be an inevitable scene of reproach and anger, for the sake, as I hoped, of as certain a reconciliation. I had been giving one night an entertainment to some of the genteelest company in Dubhn, and was showing my Lord Marquis downstairs with a pair of wax tapers, when I found a woman in a I AM EECONOILED WITH MY MOTHER 185 grey coat seated at my doorsteps : to whom, taking her for a beggar, I tendered a piece of money, and whom my noble friends, who were rather hot with wine, began to joke, as my door closed and I bade them all good-night. I was rather surprised and affected, to find afterwards that the hooded woman was no other than my mother; whose pride had made her vow that she would not enter my doors, but whose natural maternal yearnings had made her long to see her son's face once again, and who had thus planted herself in disguise at my gate. Indeed, I have found in my experience that these are the only women who never deceive a man, and whose affection remains constant through all trials. Think of the hours that the kind soul must have passed, lonely in the street, listening to the din and merriment within my apartments, the clinking of the glasses, the laughing, the choruses, and the cheering. When my affair with Lord George happened, and it became necessary to me, for the reasons I have stated, to- be out of the way ; now, thought I, is the time to make my peace with my good mother : she will never refuse me an asylum now that I seem in distress. So sending to her a notice that I was coming, that I had had a duel which had brought me into trouble, and required I should go into hiding, I followed my messenger half-an-hour afterwards : and, I warrant me, there was no want of a good reception, for presently, being introduced into an empty room by the barefooted maid who waited upon Mrs. Barry, the door was opened, and the poor mother flung herself into my arms with a scream, and with transports of joy which I shall not attempt to describe — they are but to be comprehended by women who have held in their arms an only child after a twelve years' absence from him. The Reverend Mr. Jowls, my mother's director, was the only person to whom the door of her habitation was opened during my sojourn ; and he would take no denial. He mixed for himself a glass of rum-punch, which he seemed in the habit of drinking at my good mother's charge, groaned aloud, and forthwith began reading me a lecture upon the sinfulness of my past courses, and especially of the last horrible action I had been committing. " Sinful ! " said my mother, bristling up when her son was attacked ; " sure we're all sinners ; and it's you, Mr. Jowls, who have given me the inexpressible blessing to let me know that. But how else would you have had the poor child behave % " " I would have had the gentleman avoid the drink, and the quarrel, and this wicked duel altogether," answered the clergyman. But my mother cut him short, by saying such sort of conduct might be very well in a person of his cloth and his birth, but it 186 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. neither became a Brady uor a Barry. In fact, she vras quite delighted with the thought that I had pinked an English marquis's son in a duel ; and so, to console her, I told her of a score more in which I had been engaged, and of some of which I have already informed the reader. As my late antagonist was in no sort of danger when I spread that report of his perilous situation, there was no particular call that my hiding should be very close. But the widow did not know the fact as well as I did ; and caused her house to be barricaded, and Becky, her barefooted serving-wench, to be a perpetual sentinel to give alarm, lest the officers should be in search of me. The only person I expected, however, was my cousin Uliok, who was to bring me the welcome intelligence of Lady Lyndon's arrival ; and I own, after two days' close confinement at Bray, in which I narrated all the adventures of my life to my mother, and succeeded in making her accept the dresses she had formerly refused, and a considerable addition to her income which I was glad to make, I was very glad when I saw that reprobate Ulick Brady, as my mother called him, ride up to the door in my carriage with the welcome intelligence fi ir my mother, that the young lord was out of danger ; and for me, that the Countess of Lyndon had arrived in Dublin. " And I wish, Redmond, that the young gentleman had been in danger a little longer," said the widow, her eyes filling with tears, " and you'd have stayed so much the more with your poor old mother." But I dried her tears, embracing her warmly, and promised to see her often ; and hinted I would have, mayhap, a house of my own and a noble daughter to welcome her. " Who is she, Redmond, dear t " said the old lady. " One of the noblest and richest women in the empire, mother,'' answered I. " No mere Brady this time," I added, laughing : with which hopes I left Mrs. Barry in the best of tempers. No man can bear less malice than I do ; and, when I have once carried my point, I am one of the most placable creatures in the world. I was a week in Dublin before I thought it necessary to quit that capital. I had become quite reconciled to my rival in that time ; made a point of calling at his lodgings, and speedily became an intimate consoler of his bedside. He had a gentleman to whom I did not neglect to be civil, and towards whom I ordered my people to be particular in their attentions ; for I was naturally anxious to learn what my Lord George's position with the lady of Castle Lyndon had really been, whether other suitors were about the widow, and how she would bear the news of his wound. The young nobleman himself enlightened me somewhat upon the subjects I was most desirous to inquire into. I CONSOLE MY WOUNDED EIVAL 187 " Chevalier,'' said he to me one morning when I went to pay him my comphments, " I find you are an old acquaintance with my kinswoman, the Countess of Lyndon. She writes me a page of abuse of you in a letter here ; and the strange part of the story is this, that one day when there was talk ahout you at Castle Lyndon, and the splendid equipage you were exhibiting in Dublin, the fair widow vowed and protested she never had heard of you. " ' Oh yes, mamma,' said the little BuUingdon, ' the tall dark man at Spa with the cast in his eye, who used to make my governor tipsy and sent me the sword : his name is Mr. Barry.' " But my Lady ordered the boy out of the room, and persisted in knowing nothing about you." " And are you a kinsman and acquaintance of my Lady Lyndon, my Lord ? " said I, in a tone of grave surprise. " Yes, indeed," answered the young gentleman. " I left her house but to get this ugly wound from you. And it came at a most unlucky time too." " Why more unlucky now than at another moment ? " " Why, look you. Chevalier. I think the widow was not uil- partial to me. I think I might have induced her to make our connection a little closer : and faith, though she is older than I am, she is the richest party now in England." "My Lord George," said I, "will you let me ask you a frank but an odd question "i — will you show me her letters 1 " " Indeed I'll do no such thing," replied he, in a rage. " Nay, don't be angry. If / show you letters of Lady Lyndon's to me, will you let me see hers to you ? " "What, in Heaven's name, do you mean, Mr. Barry?" said the young gentleman. " / mean that I passionately loved Lady Lyndon. I mean that I am a that I rather was not indifferent to her. I mean that I love her to distraction at this present moment, and will die myself, or kill the man who possesses her before me." " You marry the greatest heiress and the noblest blood in England ? " said Lord George haughtily. " There's no nobler blood in Europe than mine," answered I : " and I tell you I don't know whether to hope or not. But this I know, that there were days in which, poor as I am, the great heiress did not disdain to look down upon my poverty : and that any man who marries her passes over my dead body to do it. It's lucky for you," I added gloomily, "that on the occasion of my engagement with you, I did not know what were your views regarding my Lady Lyndon. My poor boy, you are a lad of courage, and I love you. 188 THE MEMOIES OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. Mine is the first sword in Europe, and you would have been lying in a narrower bed than that you now occupy." " Boy 1 " said Lord George, " I am not four years younger than you are." " You are forty years younger than I am in experience. I have passed through every grade of life. With my own skill and daring I have made my own fortune. I have been in fourteen pitched battles as a private soldier, and have been twenty-three times on the ground, and never was touched but once ; and that was by the sword of a French niaitre-d'armes, whom I killed. I started in life at seventeen, a beggar, and am now at seven-and-twenty, with twenty thousand guineas. Do you suppose a man of my courage and energy can't attain anything that he dares, and that having claims upon the widow, I will not press them 1 " This speech was not exactly true to the letter (for I had multi- plied my pitched battles, my duels, and my wealth somewhat) ; but I saw that it made the impression I desired to effect upon the young gentleman's mind, who listened to my statement with peculiar seriousness, and whom I presently left to digest it. A couple of days afterwards I called to see him again, when I brought with me some of the letters that had passed be- tween me and my Lady Lyndon. "Here," said I, "look — I show it you in confidence — it is a lock of her Ladyship's hair; here are her letters signed Calista, and addressed to Eugenio. Here is a poem, 'When Sol bedecks the mead with light, And pallid Cynthia sheds her ray,' addressed by her Ladyship to your humble servant." " Calista ! Eugenio ! Sol bedecks the mead with light ? " cried the young lord. "Am I dreaming 1 Why, my dear Barry, the widow has sent me the very poem herself ! ' Rejoicing in the sun- shine bright. Or musing in the evening grey.' " I could not help laughing as he made the quotation. They were, in fact, the very words my Calista had addressed to me. And we found, upon comparing letters, that whole passages of eloquence figured in the one correspondence which appeared in the other. See what it is to be a blue-stocking and have a love of letter-writing ! The young man put down the papers in great perturbation. " Well, thank Heaven ! " said he, after a pause of some dura- tion, — " thank Heaven, for a good riddance ! Ah, Mr. Barry, what a woman I might have married had these lucky papers not come in my way ! I thought my Lady Lyndon had a heart, sir, I must confess, though not a very warm one ; and that, at least, one could trust her. But marry her now ! I would as lief send my servant CALISTA 189 into the street to get me a -wife, as put up with such an Ephesian matron as that." "My Lord George," said I, "you little know the world. Re- member what a bad husband Lady Lyndon had, and don't be astonished that she, on her side, should be indifferent. Nor lias she, I will dare to wager, ever passed beyond the bounds of harm- less gallantry, or sinned beyond the composing of a sonnet or a billet-doux." "My wife," said the little lord, "shall write no sonnets or billets-doux; and I'm heartily glad to think I have obtained, in good time, a knowledge of the heartless vixen with whom I thought myself for a moment in love." The wounded young nobleman was either, as I have said, very young and gi-een in matters of the world — for to suppose that a man would give up forty thousand a year, because, forsooth, the lady connected with it had written a few sentimental letters to a young fellow, is too absurd — or, as I am inclined to believe, he was glad of an excuse to quit the field altogether, being by no means anxious to meet the victorious sword of Redmond Barry a second time. When the idea of Poynings' danger, or the reproaches probably addressed by him to the widow regarding myself, had brought this exceedingly weak and feeble woman up to Dublin, as I expected, and my worthy Ulick had informed me of her arrival, I quitted my good mother, who was quite reconciled to me (indeed the duel had done that), and found the disconsolate CaUsta was in the habit of paying visits to the wounded swain ; much to the annoyance, the servants told me, of that gentleman. The English are often absurdly high and haughty upon a point of punctilio ; and, after his kinswoman's conduct. Lord Poynings swore he would have no more to do with her. I had this information from his Lordship's gentleman ; with whom, as I have said, I took particular care to be friends ; nor was I denied admission by his porter, when I chose to call, as before. Her Ladyship had most likely bribed that person, as I had; for she had found her way up, though denied admission ; and, in fact, I had watched her from her own house to Lord George Poynings' lodgings, and seen her descend from her chair there and enter, before I myself followed her. I proposed to await her quietly in the anteroom, to make a scene there, and reproach her with infidelity, if necessary ; but matters were, as it happened, arranged much more conveniently for me, and walking, unannounced, into the outer room of his Lordship's apartments, I had the felicity 190 THE MEMOIES OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. of hearing in the next chamber, of which the door was partially open, the voice of my Calista. She was in full cry, appealing to the poor patient, as he lay confined in his bed, and speaking in the most passionate manner. " What can lead you, George," she said, " to doubt of my faith 1 How can you break my heart by casting me off in this monstrous manner 'i Do you wish to drive your poor Calista to the grave f Well, well, I shall join there the dear departed angel." "Who entered it three months since," said Lord George, with a sneer. " It's a wonder you have survived so long." "Don't treat your poor CaUsta in this cruel, cruel manner, Antonio ! " cried the widow. " Bah ! " said Lord George, " my wound is bad. My doctors forbid me much talk. Suppose your Antonio tired, my dear. Can't you console yourself with somebody else 1 " " Heavens, Lord George ! Antonio ! " " Console yourself with Eugenic," said the young nobleman bitterly, and began ringing his bell ; on which his valet, who was in an inner room, came out, and he bade him show her Ladyship downstairs. Lady Lyndon issued from the room in the greatest flurry. She was dressed in deep weeds, with a veil over her face, and did not recognise the person waiting in the outer apartment. As she went down the stairs, I stepped lightly after her, and as her chairman opened her door, sprang forward, and took her hand to place her in the vehicle. "Dearest widow," said I, "his Lordship spoke cor- rectly. Console yourself with Eugenic ! " She was too frightened even to scream, as her chairman carried her away. She was set down at her house, and you may be sure that I was at the chair- door, as before, to help her out. "Monstrous man ! " said she, "I desire you to leave me." "Madam, it would be against my oath," replied I; "recollect the vow Eugenic sent to Calista." " If you do not quit me, I wiU call for the domestics to turn you from the door." " What! when I am come with my Calista's letters in my pocket, to return them mayhap 1 You can soothe, madam, but you cannot frighten Redmond Barry." " What is it you would have of me, sir ? " said the widow, rather agitated. "Let me come upstairs, and I will tell you all," I replied; and she condescended to give me her hand, and to permit me to lead her from her chair to her drawing-room. When we were alone I opened my mind honourably to her. A PASSIONATE APPEAL 19I "Dearest madam,'' said I, "do not let your cruelty drive a desperate slave to fatal measures. I adore you. In former days you allowed me to whisper my passion to you unrestrained ; at present you drive me from your door, leave my letters unanswered, and prefer another to me. My flesh and blood cannot bear such treatment. Look upon the punishment I have been obliged to inflict ; tremble at that •which I may be compelled to administer to that unfortunate young man : so sure as he marries you, madam, he dies." " I do not recognise," said the widow, " the least right you have to give the law to the Countess of Lyndon : I do not in the least understand your threats, or heed them. What has passed between me and an Irish adventurer that should authorise this impertinent intrusion 1 " " These have passed, madam," said I, — " Calista's letters to Eugenic. They may have been very innocent ; but will the world believe it 1 You may have only intended to play with the heart of the poor artless Irish gentleman who adored and confided in you. But who wiU believe the stories of your innocence, against the irrefragable testimony of your own handwriting 1 Who will believe that you could write these letters in the mere wantonness of coquetry, and not under the influence of affection ■? " " Villain ! " cried my Lady Lyndon, " coidd you dare to construe out of those idle letters of mine any other meaning than that which they really bear ? " " I wiU construe anything out of them," said I ; " such is the passion which animates me towards you. I have sworn it — you must and shall be mine ! Did you ever know me promise to accom- plish a thing and fail 1 Which will you prefer to have from me — a love such as women never knew from man before, or a hatred to which there exists no parallel 1 " " A woman of my rank, sir, can fear nothing from the hatred of an adventurer like yourself," replied the lady, drawing up stately. " Look at your Poynings — was he of your rank ? You are the cause of that young man's wound, madam ; and, but that the instru- ment of your savage cruelty relented, would have been the author of his murder — yes, of his murder ; for, if a wife is faithless, does not she arm the husband who punishes the seducer? And I look upon you, Honoria Lyndon, as my wife." " Husband ! wife, sir ! " cried the widow, quite astonished. " Yes, wife ! husband ! I am not one of those poor souls with whom coquettes can play, and who may afterwards throw them aside. You would forget what passed between us at Spa : Calista would forget Eugenio ; but I will not let you forget me. You thought to 192 THE MEMOIES OF BAERY LYNDON, ESQ. trifle with my heart, did you 1 When once moved, Honoria, it is moved for ever. I love you — love as passionately now as I did when my passion was hopeless ; and, now th.at I can win you, do you think I will forego you 1 Cruel, cruel Oalista ! you little know the power of your own charms if you think their effect is so easily obKterated — you Kttle know the constancy of this pure and noble heart if you think that, having once loved, it can ever cease to adore you. No ! I swear by your cruelty that I will revenge it ; by your wonderful beauty that I will win it, and be worthy to win it. Lovely, fascinating, fickle, cruel woman ! you shall be mine — I swear it ! Your wealth may be great ; but am I not of a generous nature enough to use it worthily 1 Your rank is lofty ; but not so lofty as my ambition. You threw yourself away once on a cold and spiritless debauchee : give yourself now, Honoria, to a man; and one who, however lofty your rank may be, will enhance it and become it ! " As I poured words to this effect out on the astonished widow, I stood over her, and fascinated her with the glance of my eye ; saw her turn red and pale with fear and wonder ; saw that my praise of her charms and the exposition of my passion were not unwelcome to her, and witnessed with triumphant composure the mastery I was gain- ing over her. Terror, be sure of that, is not a bad ingredient of love. A man who wills fiercely to win the heart of a weak and vapourish woman must succeed, if he have opportunity enough. " Terrible man ! " said Lady Lyndon, shrinking from me as soon as I had done speaking (indeed, I was at a loss for words, and think- ing of another speech to make to her) — " terrible man ! leave me." I saw that I had made an impression on her, from those very words. " If she lets me into the house to-morrow," said I, " she is mine." As I went downstairs I put ten guineas into the hand of the hall-porter, who looked quite astonished at such a gift. "It is to repay you for the trouble of opening the door to me," said I ; " you will have to do so often." CHAPTER XVI I PROVIDE NOBLY FOR MY FAMILY AND ATTAIN THE HEIGHT OF MY (SEEMING) GOOD FORTUNE THE next day when I went back, my fears were realised : the door was refused to me — my Lady was not at home. This I knew to be false : I had watched the door the whole morning from a lodging I took at a house opposite. " Your lady is not out," said I : " she has denied me, and I can't, of course, force my way to her. But listen : you are an Englishman 1 " " That I am,'' said the fellow, with an air of the utmost superiority. " Your honour could tell that by my haccent." I knew he was, and might therefore offer him a bribe. An Irish family servant in rags, and though his wages were never paid him, would probably fling the money in your face. "Jjisten, then," said I. " Your lady's letters pass through your hands, don't they ? A crown for every one that you bring me to read. There is a whisky-shop in the next street ; bring them there when you go to drink, and call for me by the name of Dermot." " I recollect your honour at Spar," says the fellow, grinning : "seven's the main, heh?" and being exceedingly proud of this reminiscence, I bade my inferior adieu. I do not defend this practice of letter-opening in private life, except in cases of the most urgent necessity : when we must follow the examples of our betters, the statesmen of all Europe, and, for the sake of a great good, infringe a little matter of ceremony. My Lady Lyndon's letters were none the worse for being opened, and a great deal the better ; the knowledge obtained from the perusal of some of her multifarious epistles enabling me to become intimate with her character in a hundred ways, and obtain a power over her by which I was not slow to profit. By the aid of the letters and of my English friend, whom I always regaled with the best of liquor, and satisfied with presents of money still more agreeable (I used to put on a livery in order to meet him, and a red wig, in which it was impossible to know the dashing and elegant Redmond 4 N 194 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. Barry), I got such an insight into the widow's movements as astonished her. I knew beforehand to what public places she would go : they were, on account of her widowhood, but few ; and wherever she appeared, at church or in the park, I was always ready to offer her her book, or to canter on horseback by the side of her chariot. Many of her Ladyship's letters were the most whimsical rodomontades that ever blue-stocking penned. She was a woman who took up and threw oflF a greater number of dear friends than any one I ever knew. To some of these female darlings she began presently to write about my unworthy self, and it was with a senti- ment of extreme satisfaction I found at length that the widow was growing dreadfully afraid of me ; calling me her bete noire, lier dark spirit, her murderous adorer, and a thousand other names indicative of her extreme disquietude and teiTor. It was : " The wretch has been dogging my chariot through the park," or, "my fate pursued me at church," and " my inevitable adorer handed me out of my chair at the mercer's," or what not. My wish was to increase this sentiment of awe in her bosom, and to make her believe that I was a person from whom escape was impossible. To this end I bribed a fortune-teller, whom she consulted along with a number of the most foolish and distinguished people of Dublin, in those days ; and who, although she went dressed like one of her waiting-women, did not fail to recognise her reaUrank, and to describe as her future husband her persevering adorer Redmond Barry, Esquire. This incident disturbed her very much. She wrote about it in terms of great wonder and terror to her female correspondents. " Can this monster," she wrote, " indeed do as he boasts, and bend even Fate to his will ? — can he make me marry him though I cordially detest him, and bring me a slave to his feet 1 The horrid look of his black serpent-like eyes fascinates and frightens me : it seems to follow me everywhere, and even when I close my own eyes, the dreadful gaze penetrates the lids, and is still upon me." When a woman begins to talk of a man in this way, he is an ass who does not win her ; and, for my part, I used to follow her about, and put myself in an attitude opposite her, " and fascinate her with my glance," as she said, most assiduously. Lord George Poynings, her former admirer, was meanwhile keeping his room with his wound, and seemed determined to give up all claims to her favour ; for he denied her admittance when she called, sent no answer to her multi- plied correspondence, and contented himself by saying generally, that the surgeon had forbidden him to receive visitors or to answer letters. Thus, while he went into the background, I came forward, and took > ' it', •^''■.■- ■ THE INTERCEPTED LETTERS. I MEDITATE A SCHEME 195 good care that no other rivals should present themselves with any chance of success ; for, as soon as I heard of one, I had a quarrel fastened on him, and, in this way, pinked two more, besides my &st victim Lord George. I always took another pretext for quarrelling with them than the real one of attention to Lady Lyndon, so that no scandal or hurt to her Ladyship's feelings might arise in conse- quence ; but she very well knew what was the meaning of these duels : and the young fellows of Dublin, too, by laying two and two together, began to perceive that there was a certain dragon in watch for the wealthy heiress, and that the dragon must be subdued first before they could get at the lady. I warrant that, after the first three, not many champions were found to address the lady ; and have often laughed (in my sleeve) to see many of the young Dublin beaux riding by the side of her carriage scamper off as soon as my bay-mare and green liveries made their appearance. I wanted to impress her with some great and awful instance of my power, and to this end had determined to confer a great benefit upon my honest cousin Ulick, and carry off for him the fair object of his affections. Miss Kiljoy, under the very eyes of her guardian and friend, Lady Lyndon ; and in the teeth of the squires, the young lady's brothers, who passed the season at Dublin, and made as much swagger and to-do about their sister's £10,000 Lish, as if she had had a plum to her fortune. The girl was by no means averse to Mr. Brady ; and it only shows how faint-spirited some men are, and how a superior genius can instantly overcome difficulties which to common minds seem insuperable, that he never had thought of running off with her : as I at once and boldly did. Miss Kiljoy had been a ward in Chancery until she attained her majority (before which period it would have been a dangerous matter for me to put in execution the scheme I meditated concerning her) ; but, though now fi?ee to marry whom she liked, she was a young lady of timid disposition, and as much under fear of her brothers and relatives as though she had not been independent of them. They had some friend of their own in view for the young lady, and had scornfully rejected the proposal of Ulick Brady, the ruined gentleman ; who was quite unworthy, as these rustic bucks thought, of the hand of such a prodigiously wealthy heiress as their sister. Finding herself lonely in her great house in Dublin, the Countess of Lyndon invited her fViend Miss Ameha to pass tlie season with her at Dublin ; and, in a fit of maternal fondness, also sent for her son the little Bullingdon, and my old acquaintance his governor, to come to the capital and bear her company. A family coach brought the boy, the heiress, and the tutor from Castle Lyndon ; and I deter- mined to take the first opportunity of putting my plan in execution. 196 THE MEMOIRS OP BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. For this chance I had not very long to wait. I have said, in a former chapter of my biography, that the kingdom of Ireland was at this period ravaged by various parties of banditti ; who, under the name of Whiteboys, Oakboys, Steelboys, with captains at their head, killed proctors, fired stacks, houghed and maimed cattle, and took the law into their own hands. One of these bands, or several of them for what I know, was commanded by a mysterious personage called Captain Thunder ; whose business seemed to be that of marry- ing people with or without their own consent, or that of their parents. The Dublin Gazettes and Mercuries of that period (the year 1772) teem with proclamations from the Lord Lieutenant, offering rewards for the apprehension of this dreadful Captain Thunder and his gang, and describing at length various exploits of the savage aide-de-camp of Hymen. I determined to make use, if not of the services, at any rate of the name of Captain Thunder, and put my cousin Ulick in possession of his lady and her ten thousand pounds. She was no great beauty, and, I presume, it was the money he loved rather than the owner of it. On account of her widowhood. Lady Lyndon could not as yet frequent the balls and routs which the hospitable nobility of Dublin were in the custom of giving ; but her friend Miss KHjoy had no such cause for retirement, and was glad to attend any parties to which she might be invited. I made Ulick Brady a present of a couple of handsome suits of velvet, and by my influence procured him an invitation to many of the most elegant of these assemblies. But he had not had my advantages or experience of the manners of Court ; was as shy with ladies as a young colt, and could no more dance a minuet than a donkey. He made very little way in the polite world or in his mistress's heart : in fact, I could see that she preferred several other young gentlemen to him, who were more at home in the ballroom than poor Ulick ; he had made his first im- pression upon the heiress, and felt his first flame for her, in her father's house of Ballykiljoy, where he used to hunt and get dnmk with the old gentleman. " I could do thim two well enough, anyhow," Ulick would say, heaving a sigh ; " and if it's drinking or riding across country would do it, there's no man in Ireland would have a better chance with Amalia." " Never fear, Ulick," was my reply ; " you shall have your Amalia, or my name is not Redmond Barry." My Lord Charlemont— who was one of the most elegant and accomplished noblemen in Ireland in those days, a fine scholar and wit, a gentleman who had travelled much abroad, where I had the honour of knowing him — gave a magnificent masquerade at his THE MASQUERADE 197 house of Marino, some few miles from Dublin, on the Dunleary road. And it was at this entertainment that I was determined that Ulick should be made happy for life. Miss Kiljoy was invited to the masquerade, and the little Lord BuUingdon, who longed to witness such a scene ; and it was agreed that he was to go under the guardian- ship of his governor, my old friend the Eeverend Mr. Kunt. I learned what was the equipage in which the party were to be con- veyed to the ball, and took my measures accordingly. Ulick Brady was not present : his fortune and quality were not sufficient to procure him an invitation to so distinguished a place, and I had it given out three days previous that he had been arrested for debt : a rumour which surprised nobody who knew him. I appeared that night in a character with which I was very familiar, that of a private soldier in the King of Prussia's guard. I had a grotesque mask made, with an immense nose and moustaches, talked a jumble of broken Enghsh and German, in which the latter greatly predominated ; and had crowds round me laughing at my droU accent, and whose curiosity was increased by a knowledge of my previous history. Miss Kiljoy was attired as an antique princess, with little BuUingdon as a page of the times of chivalry ; his hair was in powder, his doublet rose-colour, and pea-green and silver, and he looked very handsome and saucy as he strutted about with my sword by his side. As for Mr. Kunt, he walked about very demurely in a domino, and perpetually paid his respects to the buffet, and ate enough cold chicken and drank enough punch and champagne to satisfy a company of grenadiers. The Lord Lieutenant came and went in state — the ball was magnificent. Miss Kiljoy had partners in plenty, among whom was myself, who walked a minuet with her (if the clumsy waddling of the Irish heiress may be called by such a name) ; and I took occasion to plead my passion for Lady Lyndon in the most pathetic terms, and to beg her friend's interference in my favour. It was three hours past midnight when the party for Lyndon House went away. Little BuUingdon had long since been asleep in one of Lady Charlemont's china closets. Mr. Runt was exceedingly husky in talk, and unsteady in gait. A young lady of the present day would be alarmed to see a gentleman in such a condition ; but it was a common sight in those jolly old times, when a gentleman was thought a milksop unless he was occasionally tipsy. I saw Miss Kiljoy to her carriage, with several other gentlemen : and, peering through the crowd of ragged linkboys, drivers, beggars, drunken men and women, who used invariably to wait round great men's doors when festivities were going on, saw the carriage drive off, with a hurrah from the mob ; then came back presently to the 398 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. supper-room, where I talked German, favoured the three or four topers still there with a High-Dutch chorus, and attacked the dishes and wine with great resolution. " How can you drink aisy with that big nose on ? " said one gentleman. "Go an be hangt ! " said I, in the true accent, applying myself again to the wine ; with which the others laughed, and I pursued my supper in silence. There was a gentleman present who had seen the Lyndon party go off, with whom I had made a bet, which I lost ; and the next morning I called upon him and paid it him. All which particulars the reader will be surprised at hearing enumerated ; but the fact is, that it was not I who went back to the party, but my late German valet, who was of my size, and, dressed in my mask, could perfectly pass for me. We changed clothes in a hackney-coach that stood near Lady Lyndon's chariot, and driving after it, speedily over- took it. The fated vehicle which bore the lovely object of Uhck Brady's affections had not advanced very far, when, in the midst of a deep rut in the road, it came suddenly to with a jolt ; the footman, springing off the back, cried " Stop ! " to the coachman, warning him that a wheel was off, and that it would be dangerous to pro- ceed with only three. Wheel-caps had not been invented in those days, as they have since been by the ingenious builders of Long Acre. And how the linchpin of the wheel had come out I do not pretend to say ; but it possibly may have been extracted by some rogues among the crowd before Lord Charlemont's gate. Miss Kiljoy thrust her head out of the window, screaming as ladies do ; Mr. Runt the chaplain woke up from his boozy slumbers ; and little Bullingdon, starting up and drawing his little sword, said, "Don't be afraid. Miss Amelia: if it's footpads, I am armed." The young rascal had the spirit of a lion, that's the truth ; as I must acknowledge, in spite of all my after-quarrels with him. The hackney coach which had been following Lady Lyndon's chariot by this time came up, and the coachman seeing the disaster, stepped down from his box, and pohtely requested her Ladyship's honour to enter his vehicle ; which was as clean and elegant as any person of tiptop quality might desire. This invitation was, after a minute or two, accepted by the passengers of the chariot : the hackney-coacliman promising to drive them to Dublin "in a hurry." Thady, the valet, proposed to accompany his young master and the young lady ; and the coachman, who had a friend seemingly drunk by his side on the box, with a grin told Thady to get up behind. Howeve.-, as the footboard tliere was covered with spikes, as a THE ABDUCTION OF MISS KILJOY 199 defence against the street-boys, who love a ride gratis, Thady's fidelity would not induce him to brave these ; and he was persuaded to remain by the wounded chariot, for which he and the coachman manufactured a linchpin out of a neighbouring hedge. Meanwhile, although the hackney-coachman drove on rapidly, yet the party within seemed to consider it was a long distance from Dublin ; and what was Miss Kiljoy's astonishment, on looking out of the window at length, to see around her a lonely heath, with no signs of buildings or city. She began forthwith to scream out to the coachman to stop ; but the man only whipped the horses the faster for her noise, and bade her Ladyship "hould on — 'twas a short cut he was taking." Miss Kiljoy continued screaming, the coachman flogging, the horses galloping, tmtil two or three men appeared suddenly from a hedge, to whom the fair one cried for assistance ; and the young Bullingdon opening the coach-door, jumped valiantly out, toppling over head and heels as he fell ; but jumping up in an instant, he drew his little sword, and, running towards the carriage, exclaimed, " This way, gentlemen ! stop the rascal ! " " Stop ! " cried the men ; at which the coachman pulled up with extraordinary obedience. Eunt all the while lay tipsy in the carriage, having only a dreamy half-consciousness of all that was going on. The newly arrived champions of female distress now held a con- sultation, in which they looked at the young lord and laughed considerably. "Do not be alarmed," said the leader, coming up to the door; " one of my people shall mount the box by the side of that treacherous rascal, and, with your Ladyship's leave, I and my companions will get in and see you home. We are well armed, and can defend you in case of danger." With this, and without more ado, he jumped into the carriage, his companion following him. " Know your place, fellow ! " cried out little Bullingdon indig- nantly ; " and give place to the Lord Viscount Bullingdon ! " and put himself before the huge person of the new-comer, who was about to enter the hackney-coach. " Get out of that, my Lord," said the man, in a broad brogue, and shoving him aside. On which the boy, crying " Thieves ! thieves ! " drew out his little hanger, and ran at the man, and would have wounded him (for a small sword will wound as well as a great one) ; but his opponent, who was armed with a long stick, struck the weapon luckily out of the lad's hands : it went flying over his head, and left him aghast and mortified at his discomfiture. He then pidled off his hat, making his Lordship a low bow, and 200 THE MEMOIES OF BARKY LYNDON, ESQ. entered the carriage ; the door of which was shut upon him by his confederate, who was to mount the box. Miss Kiljoy might have screamed ; but I presume her shrieks were stopped by the sight of an enormous horse-pistol which one of her champions produced, who said, " No harm is intended you, ma'am, but if you cry out, we must gag you ; " on which she suddenly became as mute as a fish. All these events took place in an exceedingly short space of time ; and when the three invaders had taken possession of the carriage, the poor little Bullingdon being left bewildered and astonished on the heath, one of them putting his head out of the window, said — " My Lord, a word with you." " What is it 1 " said the boy, beginning to whimper : he was but eleven years old, and his courage had been excellent hitherto. "You are only two miles from Marino. Walk back till you come to a big stone, there turn to the right, and keep on straight till you get to the high-road, when you will easily find your way back. And when you see her Ladyship your mamma, give Cap- tain Thunder's compliments, and say Miss Amelia Kiljoy is going to be married." " Oh heavens ! " sighed out that young lady. The carriage drove swiftly on, and the poor little nobleman was left alone on tlie heath, just as the morning began to break. He was fairly frightened ; and no wonder. He thought of running after the coach ; but his courage and his little legs failed him : so he sat down upon a stone and cried for vexation. It was in this way that Ulick Brady made what I call a Sabine marriage. When he halted with his two groomsmen at the cottage where the ceremony was to be performed, Mr. Runt, the chaplain, at first declined to perform it. But a pistol was held at the head of that unfortunate preceptor, and he was told, witli dreadfid oaths, that his miserable brains would be blown out ; when he consented to read the service. The lovely Amelia had, very likely, a similar inducement held out to her, but of that I know nothing; for I drove back to town with the coachman as soon as we had set the bridal party down, and had the satisfaction of finding Fritz, my German, arrived before me : he had come back in my carriage in my dress, having left the masquerade vmdiscovered, and done every- thing there according to my orders. Poor Runt came back the ne.xt day in a piteous plight, keeping silence as to his share in the occurrences of the evening, and with a dismal story of having been dnmk, of having been waylaid and bound, of having been left on the road and picked up by a'Wicklow THE BRADY MARRIAGE 201 cart, which was coming in with provisions to Dublin, and found him helpless on the road. There was no possible means of fixing any share of the conspiracy upon him. Little BuUingdon, who, too, found his way home, was unable in any way to identify me. But Lady Lyndon knew that I was concerned in the plot, for I met her hurrying the next day to the Castle ; all the town being up about the enlevement. And I ' saluted her with a smile so diabolical, that I knew she was aware that I had . been concerned in the daring and ingenious scheme. Thus it was that I repaid Ulick Brady's kindness to me in early days ; and had the satisfaction of restoring the fallen fortunes of a deserving branch of my family. He took his bride into Wicklow, where he lived with her in the strictest seclusion until the affair was blown over ; the Kiljoys striving everywhere in vain to discover his retreat. They did not for a while even know who was the lucky man who had carried off the heiress ; nor was it untO. she wrote a letter some weeks afterwards, signed Amelia Brady, and expressing her perfect happiness in her new condition, and stating that she had been married by Lady Lyndon's chaplain Mr. Runt, that the truth was known, and my worthy friend confessed his share of the trans- action. As his good-natured mistress did not dismiss him from his post in consequence, everybody persisted in supposing that poor Lady Lyndon was privy to the plot; and the story of her Ladyship's passionate attachment for me gained more and more credit. ' I was not slow, you may be sure, in profiting by these rumours. Every one thought I had a share in the Brady marriage ; though no one could prove it. Every one thought I was well with the widowed Countess ; though no one could show that I said so. But there is a way of proving a thing even while you contradict it, and I used to laugh and joke so a propos that all men began to wish me joy of my great fortune, and look up to me as the afiianced husband of the greatest heiress in the kingdom. The papers took up the matter ; the female friends of Lady Lyndon remonstrated with her and cried " Pie ! " Even the English journals and magazines, which in those days were very scandalous, talked of the matter ; and whispered that a beautiful and accomplished widow, with a title and the largest possessions in the two kingdoms, was about to bestow her hand upon a young gentleman of high birth and fashion, who had distinguished himself in the service of His M y the K — of Pr . I won't say who was the author of these para- graphs ; or how two pictures, one representing myself under the title of " The Prussian Irishman," and the other Lady Lyndon as "The Countess of Ephesus," actually appeared in the Town and 202 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. Country Magazine, published at London, and containing the fashionable tittle-tattle of the day. Lady Lyndon was so perplexed and terrified by this continual hold upon her, that she determined to leave the country. Well, she did ; and who was the first to receive her on landing at Holy- head? Your humble servant, Redmond Bany, Esquire. And, to crown all, the Dublin Mercury, which announced her Ladyship's departure, announced mine the day before. There was not a soul but thought she had followed me to England ; whereas she was only flying me. Vain hope ! — a man of my resolution was not thus to be balked in pursuit. Had she fled to the antipodes, I would have been there : ay, and would have followed her as far as Orpheus did Eurydice ! Her Ladyship had a house in Berkeley Square, London, more splendid than that which she possessed in Dublin ; and, knowing that she would come thither, I preceded her to the English capital, and took handsome apartments in Hill Street, hard by. I had the same intelligence in her London house which I had procured in Dublin. The same faithful porter was there to give me all the information I required. I promised to treble his wages as soon as a certain event shoidd happen. I won over Lady Lyndon's com- panion by a present of a liundred guineas down, and a promise of two thousand wlien I should be married, and gained the favours of her favourite lady's-maid by a bribe of similar magnitude. My reputation had so far preceded me in London that, on my arrival, numbers of the genteel were eager to receive me at their routs. We have no idea in this humdrum age what a gay and splendid place London was then : what a passion for play there was among young and old, male and female ; what thousands were lost and won in a night ; what beauties there were — how' brilhant, gay, and dashing ! Everybody was delightfully wicked : the Royal Dukes of Gloucester and Cumberland set the example ; the nobles followed close behind. Running away was the fashion. Ah ! it was a pleasant time ; and lucky was he who had fire, and youth, and money, and could live in it! I had all these; and the old frequenters of "White's," " Wattier's," and " Goosetree's" could tell stories of the gallantry, spirit, and high fashion of Captain Barry. The progress of a love-story is tedious to all those who are not concerned, and I leave such themes to the hack novel-writers, and the young boarding-school misses for whom they write. It is not my intention to follow, step by step, the incidents of my courtship, or to narrate all the difficulties I had to contend with, and my triumphant manner of surmounting them. Suffice it to say, I did overcome these difficulties. I am of opinion, with my friend the LADY TIPTOFF'S ABUSE SOS late ingenious Mr. Wilkes, that such impediments are nothing in the way of a man of spirit ; and that he can convert indifference and aversion into love, if he have perseverance and cleverness suffi- cient. By the time the Countess's widowhood was expired, I had found means to be received into her house ; I had her women per- petually talking in my favour, vaunting my powers, expatiating upon my reputation, and boasting of my success and popularity in the fashionable world. Also, the best friends I had in the prosecution of my tender suit were the Countess's noble relatives; who were far from knowing the service that they did me, and to whom I beg leave to tender my heartfelt thanks for the abuse with which they then loaded me : and to whom I iiing my utter contempt for the calumny and hatred with which they have subsequently pursued me. The chief of these amiable persons was the Marchioness of Tiptoff, mother of the young gentleman whose audacity I had punished at Dublin. This old harridan, on the Countess's first arrival in London, waited upon her, and favoured her with such a storm of abuse for her encouragement of me, that I do believe she advanced my cause more than six months' courtship could have done, or the pinking of a half-dozen of rivals. It was in vain that poor Lady Lyndon pleaded her entire innocence, and vowed she had never encouraged me. " Never encouraged him ! " screamed out the old fury ; " didn't you encourage the wretch at Spa, during Sir Charles's own life? Didn't you marry a dependant of yours to one of this profligate's bankrupt cousins ? When he set off for England, didn't you follow him like a madwoman the very next day ? Didn't he take lodgings at your very door almost — and do you call this no encouragement 1 For shame, madam, shame ! You might have married my son — my dear and noble George ; but that he did not choose to interfere with your shameful passion for the beggarly upstart whom you caused to assassinate him ; and the only counsel I have to give your Ladyship is this, to legitimatise the ties which you have contracted with this shameless adventurer; to make that connection legal which, real as it is now, is against both decency and religion ; and to spare your family and your son the shaipe of your present line of life." With this the old fury of a marchioness left the room, and Lady Lyndon in tears : I had the whole particulars of the conversation from her Ladyship's companion, and augured the best result from it in my favour. Thus, by the sage iniiuence of my Lady Tiptoff, the Countess of Lyndon's natural friends and family were kept from her society. Even when Lady Lyndon went to Court, the most august lady in 204 THE MEMOIKS OF BAEEY LYNDON, ESQ. the realm received her with such marked coldness, that the un^ fortunate widow came Jiome and took to her bed with vexation. And thus I may say that Koyalty itself became an agent in advanc- ing my suit, and helping the plans of the poor Irish soldier of fortune. So it is that Fate works with agents, great and small ; and by means over which they have no control the destinies of men and women are accomplished. I shall always consider the conduct of Mrs. Bridget (Lady Lyndon's favourite maid at this juncture) as a masterpiece of in- genuity : and, indeed, had such an opinion of her diplomatic skill, that the very instant I became master of the Lyndon estates, and paid her the promised sum — I am a man of honour, and rather than not keep my word with the woman, I raised the money of the Jews, at an exorbitant interest — as soon, I say, as I achieved my triumph, I took Mrs. Bridget by the hand, and said, "Madam, you have shown such unexampled fidelity in my service that I am glad to reward you, according to my promise ; but you have given proofs of such extraordinary cleverness and dissimulation, that I must decline keeping you in Lady Lyndon's establishment, and beg you will leave it this very day : " which she did, and went over to the TiptofF faction, and has abused me ever since. But I must tell you what she did which was so clever. Why, it was the simplest thing in the world, as all master-strokes are. When Lady Lyndon lamented her fate and my — as she was pleased to call it — shameful treatment of her, Mrs. Bridget said, " Why should not your Ladyship write this young gentleman word of the evil which he is causing you "i Appeal to his feelings (which, I have heard say, are very good indeed — the whole town is ringing with accounts of his spirit and generosity), and beg him to desist from a pursuit which causes the best of ladies so much pain 1 Do, my Lady, write : I know your style is so elegant that I, for my part, have many a time burst into tears in reading your charming letters, and I have no doubt Mr. Barry will sacrifice anything rather than hurt your feelings." And, of course, the abigail swore to the fact. "Do you think so, Bridget?" said her Ladyship. And my mistress forthwith penned me a letter, in her most fascinating and winning manner : — "Why, sir," wrote she, "will you pursue me? why environ me in a web of intrigue so frightful that my spirit sinks under it, seeing escape is hopeless fi-om your frightful, your diabolical art ? They say you are generous to others— be so to me. I know your bravery but too well : exercise it on men who can meet your sword, not on a poor feeble woman who cannot resist you. Remember the friendship you I ACHIEVE MY TRIUMPH 205 once professed for me. And now, I beseech you, I implore you, to give a proof of it. Contradict the calumnies which you have spread against me, and repair, if you can, and if you have a spark of honour left, the miseries which you have caused to the heart-broken "H. Lyndon." What was this letter meant for but that I should answer it in person? My excellent ally told me where I should meet Lady Lyndon, and accordingly I followed, and found her at the Pantheon. I repeated the scene at Dublin over again ; showed her how pro- digious my power was, humble as I was, and that my energy was still untired. " But," I added, " I am as great in good as I am in evil ; as fond and faithful as a friend as I am terrible as an enemy. I will do everything," I said, " which you ask of me, except when you bid me not to love you. That is beyond my power ; and while my heart has a pulse I must follow you. It is my fate ; your fate. Cease to battle against it, and be mine. Loveliest of your sex ! with life alone can end my passion for you ; and, indeed, it is only by dying at your command that I can be brought to obey you. Do you wish me to die % " She said, laughing (for she was a woman of a lively, humorous turn), that she did not wish me to commit self-murder ; and I felt from that moment that she was mine. A year from that day, on the 15th of May, in the year 1773, I had the honour and happiness to lead to the altar Honoria, Countess of Lyndon, widow of the late Right Honourable Sir Charles Lyndon, K.B. The ceremony was performed at St. George's, Hanover Square, by the Reverend Samuel Runt, her Ladyship's chaplain. A magni- ficent supper and ball was given at our house in Berkeley Square, and the next morning I had a duke, four earls, three generals, and a crowd of the most distinguished people in London at my levfe. Walpole made a lampoon about the marriage, and Selwyn cut jokes at the " Cocoa-tree." Old Lady Tiptoft', although she had recom- mended it, was ready to bite off her fingers with vexation ; and as for young BuUingdon, who was grown a tall lad of fourteen, when called upon by the Countess to embrace his papa, he shook his fist in my face and said, " He my father ! I would as soon call one of your Ladyship's footmen papa ! " But I could afford to laugh at the rage of the boy and the old woman, and at the jokes of the wits of St. James's. I sent off a flaming account of our nuptials to my mother and my uncle the good Chevalier ; and now, arrived at the pitch of prosperity, and having, at thirty years of age, by my own merits and energy, raised 206 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. myself to one of the highest social positions that any man in England could occupy, I determined to enjoy myself as became a man of quality for the remainder of my life. After we had received the congratulations of our friends in London — for in those days people were not ashamed of being married, as they seem to be now — I and Honoria (who was all complacency, and a most handsome, sprightly, and agreeable com- panion) set off to visit our estates in the West of England, where I had never as yet set foot. We left London in three chariots, each with four horses ; and my uncle would have been pleased could he have seen painted on their panels the Irish crown and the ancient coat of the Barrys beside the Countess's coronet and the noble cognisance of the noble family of Lyndon. Before quitting London, I procured His Majesty's gracious per- mission to add the name of my lovely lady to my own ; and hence- forward assumed the style and title of Basry Lyndon, as I have written it in this autobiography. CHAPTER XVII / APPEAR AS AN ORNAMENT OF EN'GLISH SOCIETY A LL the journey down to Hackton Castle, the largest and most /A ancient of our ancestral seats in Devonshire, was performed *■ with the slow and sober state becoming people of the first quality in the realm. An outrider in my livery went on before us, and bespoke our lodging from town to town ; and thus we lay in state at Andover, Ilminster, and Exeter; and the foiuth evening arrived in time for supper before the antique baronial mansion, of which the gate was in an odious Gothic taste that would have set Mr. Walpole Avild with pleasure. The first days of a marriage are commonly very trying ; and I have known couples, who lived together like turtle-doves for the rest of their lives, peck each other's eyes out almost during the honeymoon. I did not escape the common lot : in our journey westward my Lady Lyndon chose to quarrel with me because I pulled out a pipe of tobacco (the habit of smoking which I had acquired in Germany when a soldier in BiQow's, and could never give it over), and smoked it in the carriage ; and also her Ladyship cliose to take umbrage both at Ilminster and Andover, because in the evenings when we lay there I chose to invite the landlords of the "Bell" and the "Lion" to crack a bottle with me. Lady Lyndon was a haughty woman, and I hate pride ; and I promise you that in both instances I overcame this vice in her. On the third day of our journey I had her to light my pipe-match with her own hands, and made her deliver it to me with tears in her eyes ; and at the "Swan Inn" at Exeter I had so completely subdued her, that she asked me humbly whether I would not wish the landlady as well as the host to step up to dinner with us. To this I should have had no objection, for, indeed, Mrs. Bonnyface was a very good-looking woman ; but we expected a visit from my Lord Bishop, a kinsman of Lady Lyndon, and the hienseances did not permit the indulgence of my wife's request. I appeared with her at evening service, to compliment our right reverend cousin, and put her name down for twenty-five guineas, and my own for one hundred, to the famous new organ which was then being built 208 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. for the cathedral. This conduct, at the very outset of my career in the county, made me not a little popular ; and the residentiary canon, who did me the favour to sup with me at the inn, went away after the sixth bottle, hiccupping the most solemn vows for the welfare of such a p-p-pious gentleman. Before we reached Hackton Castle, we had to drive through ten miles of the Lyndon estates, where the people were out to visit us, the church bells set a-ringing, the parson and the farmers assembled in their best by the roadside, and the school children and the labour- ing people were loud in their hurrahs for her Ladyship. I flung money among these worthy characters, stopped to bow and chat with his reverence and the farmers, and if I found that the Devon- shire girls were among the handsomest in the kingdom is it my fault? These remarks my Lady Lyndon especially would take in great dudgeon ; and I do believe she was made more angry by my admiration of the red cheeks of Miss Betsy Quarringdon of Clumpton, than by any previous speech or act of mine in the journey. "Ah, ah, my fine madam, you are jealous, are youV thought I, and reflected, not without deep sorrow, how lightly she herself had acted in her husband's lifetime, and that those are most jealous who themselves give most cause for jealousy. Round Hackton village the scene of welcome was particularly gay : a band of music had been brought from Plymouth, and arches and flags had been raised, especially before the attorney's and the doctor's houses, who were both in the employ of the family. There were many hundreds of stout people at the great lodge, which, with the park-wall, bounds one side of Hackton Green, and from which, for three miles, goes (or rather went) an avenue of noble elms up to the towers of the old castle. I wished they had been oak when I cut the trees down in '79, for they would have fetched three times the money : I know nothing more culpable than the carelessness of ancestors in planting their grounds with timber of small value, when they might just as easily raise oak. Thus I have always said that the Roundhead Lyndon of Hackton, who planted these elms in Charles II.'s time, cheated me of ten thousand pounds. For the first few days after our arrival, my time was agreeably spent in receiving the visits of the nobUity and gentry who came to pay their respects to the noble new-married couple, and, like Blue- beard's wife in the fiiiry tale, iu inspecting the treasures, the furni- ture, and the numerous chambers of the castle. It is a huge old place, built as far back as Henry V.'s time, besieged and battered by the Crorawelhans in the Revolution, and altered and patched up, in an odious old-fashioned taste, by the Roundhead Lyndon, who succeeded to the property at the death of a brother whose principles HACKTON HALL 209 were excellent and of the true Cavalier sort, but who ruined himself chiefly by drinking, dicing, and a dissolute life, and a little by sup- porting the King. The castle stands in a fine chase, which was prettily speckled over with deer; and I can't but own that my pleasure was considerable at first, as I sat in the oak parlour of summer evenings, with the windows open, the gold and silver plate shining in a hundred dazzling colours on the sideboards, a dozen jolly companions round the table, and could look out over the. wide green park and the waving woods, and see the sun setting on the lake, and hear the deer calling to one another. The exterior was, when I first arrived, a quaint composition of all sorts of architecture ; of feudal towers, and gable-ends in Queen Bess's style, and rough-patched walls built up to repair the ravages of the Roundhead cannon : but I need not speak of this at large, having had the place new-faced at a vast expense, under a fashion- able architect, and the facade laid out in the latest French-Greek and most classical style. There had been moats, and drawbridges, and outer walls ; these I had shaved away into elegant terraces, and handsomely laid out in parterres, according to the plans of Monsieur Cornichon, the great Parisian architect, who visited England for the purpose. After ascending the outer steps, you entered an antique hall of vast dimensions, wainscoted with black carved oak, and ornamented with portraits of our ancestors : from the square beard of Brook Lyndon, the great lawyer in Queen Bess's time, to the loose stomacher and ringlets of Lady Saccharissa Lyndon, whom Vandyck painted when she was a maid of honour to Queen Henrietta Maria, and down to Sir Charles Lyndon, with his riband as a knight of the Bath ; and my Lady, painted by Hudson, in a white satin sack and the family diamonds, as she was presented to the old King George II. These diamonds were very fine ; I first had them reset by Boehmer, when we appeared before their French Majesties at Versailles ; and finally raised eighteen thousand pounds upon them, after that infernal run of ill luck at " Goosetree's," when Jemmy Twitcher (as we called my Lord Sandwich), CarUsle, Charley Fox, and I played hombre for four-and-forty hours sans d^semparer. Bows and pikes, huge stag-heads and hunting implements, and rusty old " suits of armour, that may have been worn in the days of Gog and Magog for what I know, formed the other old ornaments of this huge apartment; and were ranged round a fireplace where you might have turned a coach-and-six. This I kept pretty much in its antique condition, but had the old armour eventually turned out and consigned to the lumber-rooms upstairs ; replacing it with china monsters, gilded settees from France, and elegant marbles, of which 210 THE MEMOIRS OF BAERY LYNDON, ESQ. the broken noses and limbs, and ugliness, undeniably proved their antiquity : and which an agent pvirchased for me at Rome. But such was the taste of the times (and, perhaps, the rascality of my agent), that thirty thousand pounds' worth of these gems of art only went for three hundred guineas at a subsequent period, when I found it necessary to raise money on my collections. From this main hall branched off on either side the long series of state-rooms, poorly furnished with high-backed chairs and long queer Venice glasses, when first I came to the property ; but after- wards rendered so splendid by me, with the gold damasks of Lyons and the magnificent Gobelin tapestries I won from Richelieu at play. There were thirty-six bedrooms de maitre, of which I only kept three in their antique condition, — the haunted room as it was called, where the murder was done in James II. 's time, the bed where William slept after landing at Torbay, and Queen Elizabeth's state-room. All the rest were redecorated by Cornichon in the most elegant taste ; not a little to the scandal of some of the steady old country dowagers ; for I had pictures of Boucher and Vanloo to decorate the principal apartments, in which the Cupids and Venuses were painted in a manner so natural, that I recollect the old wizened Countess of Frumpington pinning over the curtains of her bed, and sending her daughter. Lady Blanche Whalebone, to sleep with her waiting-woman, rather than allow her to lie in a chamber hung all over with looking-glasses, after the exact fashion of the Queen's closet at Versailles. For many of these ornaments I was not so much answerable as Cornichon, whom Lauraguais lent me, and who was the intendant of my buildings during my absence abroad. I had given the man carte blanche, and when he fell down and broke his leg, as he was decorating a theatre in the room which had been the old chapel of the castle, the people of the country thought it was a judgment of Heaven upon him. In his rage for improvement the fellow dared anything. Without my orders he cut down an old rookery which was sacred in the country, and had a prophecy regarding it, stating, "When the rook-wood shall fall, down goes Hackton Hall." The rooks went over and colonised Tiptoflf Woods, which lay near us (and be hanged to them !), and Cornichon built a temple to Venus and two lovely fountains on their site. Venuses and Cupids were the rascal's adoration : he wanted to take down the Gothic screen and place Cupids in our pew there ; but old Doctor Huff the rector came out with a large oak stick, and addressed the unlucky architect in Latin, of which he did not comprehend a word, yet made him understand that he would break his bones if he laid a single finger upon the sacred edifice. Cornichon made complaints about the MY MODERN IMPROVEMENTS 211 Abb^ Huff," as he called him ("Et quel abb(^, grand Dieu ! " added he, quite bewildered, " un abb^ avec douze enfans ") ; but I en- couraged the Church in this respect, and bade Cornichon exert his talents only in the castle. There was a magnificent collection of ancient plate, to which I added much of the most splendid modern kind ; a cellar which, however well furnished, required continual replenishing, and a kitchen which I reformed altogether. My friend. Jack Wilkes, sent me down a cook from the Mansion House, for the Enghsh cookery, — the turtle and venison department : I had a chef (who called out the Englishman, by the way, and complained sadly of the gros cochon who wanted to meet him with coups de poing) and a couple of aides from Paris, and an Italian confectioner, as my officiers de bouche. All which natural appendages to a man of fashion, the odious, stingy old Tiptoff, my kinsman and neighbour, affected to view with horror ; and he spread through the country a report that I had my victuals cooked by Papists, lived upon frogs, and, he verily believed, fricasseed little children. But the squires ate my dinners very readily for all that, and old Doctor Huff himself was compelled to allow that my venison and turtle were most orthodox. The former gentry I knew how to con- ciliate, too, in other ways. There had been only a subscription pack of fox-hounds in the county and a few beggarly couples of mangy beagles, with which old Tiptoff pattered about his grounds ; I built a kennel and stables, which cost thirty thousand pounds, and stocked them in a manner which was worthy of my ancestors, the Irish kings. I had two packs of hounds, and took the field in the season four times a week, with three gentlemen in my hunt-uniform to follow me, and open house at Hackton for all who belonged to the hunt. These changes and this train de vivre required, as may be supposed, no small outlay ; and I confess that I have little of that base spirit of economy in my composition which some people practise and admire. For instance, old Tiptoff was hoarding up his money to repair his father's extravagance and disencumber his estates ; a good deal of the money with which he paid off his mortgages my agent procured upon mine. And, besides, it must be remembered I had only a life-interest upon the Lyndon property, was always of an easy temper in dealing with the money-brokers, and had to pay heavily for insuring her Ladyship's life. At the end of a year Lady Lyndon presented me with a son — Bryan Lyndon I called him, in compliment. to my royal ancestry : but what more had I to leave him than a noble name ? Was not the estate of his mother entailed upon the odious little Turk, Lord Bullingdon ? and whom, by the way, I have not mentioned as yet. 212 THE MEMOIRS OP BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. though he was living at Hackton, consigned to a new governor. The insubordination of that boy was dreadful. He used to quote passages of "Hamlet" to his mother, which made her very angry. Once when I took a horsewhip to chastise him, he drew a knife, and would have stabbed me : and, 'faith, I recollected my own youth, which was pretty similar ; and, holding out my hand, burst out laughing, and proposed to him to be friends. We were recon- ciled for that time, and the next, and the next ; but there was no love lost between us, and his hatred for me seemed to grow as he grew, which was apace. I determined to endow my darling boy Bryan with a property, and to this end cut down twelve thousand pounds' worth of timber on Lady Lyndon's Yorkshire and Irish estates : at which proceeding Bullingdon's guardian, Tiptoflf, cried out, as usual, and swore I had no right to touch a stick of the trees ; but down they went ; and I commissioned my mother to repurchase the ancient lands of Ballybarry and Barryogue, which had once formed part of the immense possessions of my house. These she bought back with excellent prudence and extreme joy ; for her heart was gladdened at the idea that a son was born to my name, and with the notion of my magnificent fortunes. To say truth, I was rather afraid, now that I lived in a very different sphere from that in wliich she was accustomed to move, lest she should come to pay me a visit, and astonish my English friends by her bragging and her brogue, her rouge and her old hoops and furbelows of the time of George II. : in which she had figured advantageously in her youth, and which she still fondly thought to be at the height of the fashion. So I wrote to her, putting off her visit ; begging her to visit us when the left wing of the castle was finished, or the stables built, and so forth. There was no need of such precaution. "A hint's enough for me, Red- mond," the old lady would reply. " I am not coming to disturb you among your great English Mends with my old-fashioned Irish ways. It's a blessing to me to think that my darling boy has attained the position which I always knew was his due, and for which I pinched myself to educate him. You must bring me the little Bryan, that his grandmother may kiss him, one day. Present my respectful blessing to her Ladyship his mamma. Tell her she has got a treasure in her husband, which she couldn't have had had she taken a duke to marry her ; and that the Barrys and the Bradys, though without titles, have the best of blood in their veins. I shall never rest until I see you Earl of Ballybarry, and my grandson Lord Viscount Barryogue." How singular it was that the very same ideas should be passing THE BALLYBAREY ESTATE 213 in my mother's mind and my own ! The very titles she had pitched upon had also been selected (naturally enough) by me ; and I don't mind confessing that I had filled a dozen sheets of paper with my signature, under the names of Ballybarry and Barryogue, and had determined with my usual impetuosity to carry my point. My mother went and estabhshed herself at Ballybari'y, living with the priest there until a tenement could be erected, and dating from " Ballybarry Castle " ; which, you may be sure, I gave out to be a place of no small importance. I had a plan of the estate in my study, both at Hackton and in Berkeley Square, and the plans of the elevation of Ballybarry Castle, the ancestral residence of Barry Lyndon, Esq., with the projected improvements, in which the castle was represented as about the size of Windsor, with more ornaments to the architecture ; and eight hundred acres of bog falHng in handy, I purchased them at three pounds an acre, so that my estate upon the map looked to be no insignificant one.* I also in this year made arrangements for purchasing the Polwellan estate and mines in Cornwall from Sir John Trecothick, for £70,000 — an imprudent bargain, which was afterwards the cause to me of much dispute and litigation. The troubles of property, the rascality of agents, the quibbles of lawyers, are endless. Humble people envy us great men, and fancy that our lives are all pleasure. Many a time in the course of my prosperity I have sighed for the days of my meanest fortune, and envied the boon companions at my table, with no clothes to their backs but such as my credit supplied them, without a guinea but what came from my pocket ; but with- out one of the harassing cares and responsibilities which are the dismal adjuncts of great rank and property. I did little more than make my appearance, and assume the command of my estates, in the kingdom of Ireland ; rewarding generously those persons who had been kind to me in my former adversities, and taking my fitting place among the aristocracy of the land. But, in truth, I had small inducements to remain in it after having tasted of the genteeler and more complete pleasures of English and Continental life ; and we passed our summers at Buxton, Bath, and Harrogate, while Hackton Castle was being beautified in * On the strength of this estate, and pledging his honour that it was not mortgaged, Mr. Barry Lyndon borrowed £17,000, in the year 1786, from young Captain Pigeon, the city merchant's son, who had just come in for his property. As for the Polwellan estate and mines, "the cause of endless litigation," it must be owned that our hero purchased them ; but he never paid more than the first £5000 of the purchase money. Hence the litigation of which he complains, and the famous Chancery suit of "Trecothick v> Lyndon," in which Mr. John Scott greatly distinguished himself. — Ed. 214 THE MEMOIRS OP BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. the elegant manner already described by me, and the season at our mansion in Berkeley Square. It is wonderful how the possession of wealth brings out the virtues of a man ; or, at any rate, acts as a varnish or lustre to them, and brings out their brilliancy and colour in a manner never known when the individual stood in the cold grey atmosphere of poverty. I assure you it was a very short time before I was a pretty fellow of the first class ; made no small sensation at the coffee-houses in Pall Mall, and afterwards at the most famous clubs. My style, equipages, and elegant entertainments were in everybody's mouth, and were described in all the morning prints. The needier part of Lady Lyndon's relatives, and such as had been offended by the intolerable pomposity of old Tiptoff, began to appear at our routs and assemblies ; and as for relations of my own, I found in London and Ireland more than I had ever dreamed of, of cousins who claimed affinity with me. There were, of course, natives of my own country (of which I was not particularly proud), and I received visits from three or four swaggering shabby Temple bucks, with tarnished lace and Tipperary brogue, who were eating their way to the bar in London ; from several gambling adventurers at the watering-places, whom I soon speedily let to know their place ; and from others of more reputable condition. Among them I may mention my cousin the Lord Kilbarry, who, on the score of his relationship, borrowed thirty pieces from me to pay his landlady in Swallow Street ; and whom, for my own reasons, I allowed to maintain and credit a connection for which the Heralds' College gave no authority what- soever. Kilbarry had a cover at my table ; punted at play, and paid when he liked, which was seldom ; had an intimacy with, and was under considerable obligations to, my tailor ; and always boasted of his cousin the great Barry Lyndon of the West country. Her Ladyship and I lived, after a while, pretty separate when in London. She preferred quiet : or to say the truth, I preferred it ; being a great friend to a modest tranquil behaviour in woman, and a taste for the domestic pleasures. Hence I encouraged her to dine at home with her ladies, her chaplain, and a few of her friends ; admitted three or four proper and discreet persons to ac- company her to her box at the opera or play on proper occasions ; and indeed declined for her the too frequent visits of her friends and family, preferring to receive them only twice or thrice in a season on our grand reception days. Besides, she was a mother, and had great comfort in the dressing, educating, and dandling our little Bryan, for whose sake it was fit that she should give up the pleasures and frivolities of the world ; so she left that part of the duty of every family of distinction to be performed by me. To say LADY LYNDON BECOMES DISAGREEABLE 215 the truth, Lady Lyndon's figvire and appearance were not at this time such as to make for their owner any very brilliant appearance in the fashionable world. She had grown very fat, was short- sighted, pale in complexion, careless about her dress, dull in demeanour; her conversations with me characterised by a stupid despair, or a silly blundering attempt at forced cheerfulness still more disagreeable : hence our intercourse was but trifling, and my temptations to cai-ry her into the world, or to remain in her society, of necessity exceedingly small. She would try my temper at home, too, in a thousand ways. When requested by me (often, I own, rather roughly) to entertain the company with conversation, wit, and learning, of which she was a mistress : or music, of which she was an accomplished performer, she would as often as not begin to cry, and leave the room. My company from this, of course, fancied I was a tyrant over her ; whereas I was only a severe and careful guardian over a silly, bad-tempered, and weak-minded lady. She was luckily very fond of her youngest son, and through him I had a wholesome and efi'ectual hold of her ; for if in any of her tantrums or fits of haughtiness — (this woman was intolerably proud ; and repeatedly, at first, in our quarrels, dared to twit me with my own original poverty and low birth), — if, I say, in our disputes she pretended to have the upper hand, to assert her authority against mine, to refuse to sign such papers as I might think necessary for the distribution of our large and complicated property, I would have Master Bryan carried off to Chiswick for a couple of days ; and I warrant me his lady-mother could hold out no longer, and would agree to anything I chose to propose. The servants about her I took care should be in my pay, not hers : especially the child's head nurse was under my orders, not those of my Lady : and a very hand- some, red-cheeked, impudent jade she was; and a great fool she made me make of myself This woman was more mistress of the house than the poor-spirited lady who owned it. She gave the law to the servants ; and if I showed any particular attention to any of the ladies who visited us, the slut would not scruple to show her jealousy, and to find means to send them packing. The fact is, a generous man is always made a fool of by some woman or other ; and this one had such an influence over me that she could turn me round her finger.* * From these curious confessions, it would appear that Mr. Lyndon mal- treated his lady in every possible way ; that he denied her society, bullied her into signing away her property, spent it in gambling and taverns, w.is openly unfaithful to her ; and, when she complained, threatened to remove her children from her. Nor, indeed, is he the only husband who has done the like, and has passed for "nobody's enemy but his own " • a jovial good-natured fellow. The 216 THE MEMOIRS OF BAKRY LYNDON, ESQ. Her infernal temper (Mrs. Stammer was the jade's name), and my wife's moody despondency, made my house and home not over- pleasant : hence I was driven a good deal abroad, where, as play was the fashion at every club, tavern, and assembly, I, of course, was obliged to resume my old habit, and to commence as an amateur those games at which I was once unrivalled in Europe. But whether a man's temper changes with prosperity, or his skill leaves him when, deprived of a confederate, and pursuing the game no longer profession- ally, he joins in it, hke the rest of the world, for pastime, I know not ; but certain it is, that in the seasons of 1774-75 I lost much money at "White's" and the "Cocoa Tree," and was compelled to meet my losses by borrowing largely upon my wife's annuities, insur- ing her Ladyship's life, and so forth. The terms at which I raised these necessary sums and the outlays requisite for my improvements, were, of course, very onerous, and clipped the property considerably ; and it was some of these papers which my Lady Lyndon (who was of a narrow, timid, and stingy turn) occasionally refused to sign : until I fier&uaded her, as I have before shown. My dealings on the turf ought to be mentioned, as forming part of my history at this time ; but, in truth, I have no particular plear sure in recalling my Newmarket doiu,gs. I was infernally bit and bubbled in almost every one of my transactions there ; and though I could ride a horse as well as any man in England, was no match with the English noblemen at backing him. Fifteen years after my horse, Bay BiUow, by Sophy Hardcastle, out of Eclipse, lost the world contains scores of sucii amiable people ; and, indeed, it is because justice has not been done them that we have edited this autobiography. Had it been that, of a mere hero of romance — one of those heroic youths who figure in the novels of Scott and James — there would have been no call to introduce the reader to a personage already so often and so charmingly depicted. Mr. Barry Lyndon is not, we repeat, a hero of the common pattern ; but let the reader look round, and ask himself, Do not as many rogues succeed in life as honest men ? more fools than men of talent ? And is it not just that the lives of this class should be described by the student of human nature as well as the actions of those fairy-tale princes, those perfect impossible heroes, whom our writers love to describe ? There is something iwiive and simple in that time-honoured style of novel-writing by which Prince Prettymau, at the end of his adventures, is put in possession of every worldly prosperity, as he has been endowed with every mental and bodily excellence previously. The novelist thinks that he can do no more for his darling hero than m.ike him a lord. Is it not a poor standard that of the summum, honum ? The greatest good in life is not to be a lord ; perhaps not even to be happy. Poverty, illness, a humpback, may be rewards and conditions of good, as well as that bodily prosperity which all of us uncon- sciously set up for worship. But this is a subject for an essay, not a note ; and it is best to allow Mr. Lyndon to resume the candid and ingenious narrative of his virtues and defects. MY LOSSES ON THE TURF 217 Newmarket stakes, for which he was the first favouiite, I found that a noble earl, who shall be nameless, had got into his stable the morn- ing before he ran ; and the consequence was that an outside horse won, and your humble servant was out to the amount of fifteen thou- sand pounds. Strangers had no chance in those days on the heath : and, though dazzled by the splendour and fashion assembled there, and surrounded by the greatest persons of the land, — the royal dukes, with their wives and splendid equipages ; old Grafton, with his queer bevy of company, and such men as Ancaster, Sandwich, Lorn, — a man might have considered himself certain of fair play and have been not a little proud of the society he kept ; yet, I promise you, that, exalted as it was, there was no set of men in Europe who knew how to rob more genteelly, to bubble a stranger, to bribe a jockey, to doctor a horse, or to arrange a betting-book. Even / couldn't stand against these accomplished gamesters of the highest families in. Europe. Was it my own want of style, or my want of fortune ? I know not. But now I was arrived at the height of my ambition both my skill and my luck seemed to be deserting me. Everything I touched crumbled in my hand ; every speculation I had failed ; every agent I trusted deceived me. I am, indeed, one of those born to make, and not to keep fortunes ; for the qualities and energy which lead a man to effect the first are often the very causes of his ruin in the latter case : indeed I know of no other reason for the misfortunes which finally befell me.* I had always a taste for men of letters, and perhaps, if the truth must be told, have no objection to playing the fine gentleman and patron among the wits. Such people are usually needy, and of low birth, and have an instinctive awe and love of a gentleman and a laced coat ; as all must have remarked who have frequented their society. Mr. Reynolds, who was afterwards knighted, and certainly the most elegant painter of his day, was a pretty dexterous courtier of the wit tribe ; and it was through this gentleman, who painted a piece of me. Lady Lyndon, and our little Bryan, which was greatly admired at the Exhibition (I was represented as quitting my wife, in the costume of the Tippleton Yeomanry, of which I was major; the child starting back from my helmet like what-d'ye- call'im — Hector's son, as described by Mr. Pope in his " Iliad ") ; it was through Mr. Reynolds that I was introduced to a score of these gentlemen, and their great chief, Mr. Johnson. I always thought their great chief a great bear. He drank tea twice or thrice at my house, misbehaving himself most grossly ; treating my opinions with no more respect than those of a schoolboy, and telling * The memoirs seem to have been written about the year 1814, in that calm retreat which Fortune had selected for the author at the close of his life. 218 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. me to mind my horses and tailors, and not trouble myself about letters. His Scotch bear-leader, Mr. Boswell, was a butt of the first quality. I never saw such a figure as the fellow cut in what he called a Oorsican habit, at one of Mrs. Cornely's balls, at Carlisle House, Soho. But that the stories connected with that same establishment are not the most profitable tales in the world, I could tell tales of scores of queer doings there. All the high and low demireps of the town gathered there, from his Grace of Ancaster down to my countryman, poor Mr. Oliver Goldsmith the poet, and from the Duchess of Kingston down to the Bird of Paradise, or Kitty Fisher. Here I have met very queer characters, who came to queer ends too : poor Haekman, that afterwards was hanged for killing Miss Reay, and (on the sly) his Reverence Doctor Simony, whom my friend Sam Foote, of the " Little Theatre," bade to Jive even after forgery and the rope cut short the unlucky parson's career. It was a merry place, London, in those days, and that's the truth. I'm writing now in my gouty old age, and people have grown vastly more moral and matter-of-fact than they were at the close of the last century, when the world was young with me. There was a difference between a gentleman and a common fellow in those times. We wore silk and embroidery then. Now every man has the same coachmanlike look in his belcher and caped coat, and there is no outward difference between my Lord and his groom. Then it took a man of fashion a couple of hours to make his toilette, and he could show some taste and genius in the selecting it. What a blaze of splendour was a drawing-room, or an opera, of a gala night ! What sums of money were lost and won at the delicious faro-table ! My gilt curricle and outriders, blazing in green and gold, were very different objects from the equipages you see nowa- days in the ring, with the stunted grooms behind them. A man could drink four times as much as the milksops nowadays can swallow ; but 'tis useless expatiating on this theme. Gentlemen are dead and gone. The fashion has now turned upon your soldiers and sailors, and I grow quite moody and sad when I think of thirty years ago. This is a chapter devoted to reminiscences of what was a very happy and splendid time with me, but presenting little of mark in the way of adventure ; as is generally the ca.se when times are happy and easy. It would seem idle to fill pages with accounts of the everyday occupations of a man of fashion, — the fair ladies who smiled upon him, the dresses he wore, the matches he played, and won or lost. At this period of time, when youngsters are employed cutting the Frenchmen's throats in Spain and France, lying out in I SET THE FASHION TO DUBLIN 219 bivouacs, and feeding off commiissariat beef and biscuit, they would not understand what a life their ancestors led ; and so I shall leave further discourse upon the pleasures of the times when even the Prince was a lad in leading-strings, when Charles Fox had not subsided into a mere statesman, and Buonaparte was a beggarly- brat in his native island. Whilst these improvements were goiuu; on in my estates,— my house, from an antique Norman castle, being changed to an elegant Greek temple, or palace — my gardens and woods losing their rustic appearance to be adapted to the most genteel French style — my child growing up at his mother's knees, and my influence in the country increasing, — it must not be imagined that I stayed in Devonshire all this while, and that I neglected to make visits to London, and my various estates in England and Ireland. I went to reside at the Treoothick estate and the Polwellan Wheal, wliere I found, instead of profit, every kind of pettifogging chicancery; I passed over in state to our territories in Ireland, where I entertained the gentry in a style the Lord Lieutenant him- self could not equal ; gave the fashion to Dublin (to be sure it was a beggarly savage city in those days ; and, since the time there has been a pother about the Union, and the misfortunes attending it, I have been at a loss to account for the mad praises of the old order of things, which the fond Irish patriots have invented) ; I say I set the fashion to Dublin ; and small praise to me, for a poor place it was in those times, whatever the Irish party may say. In a former chapter I have given you a description of it. It was the Warsaw of our part of the world : there was a splendid, ruined, half-civilised nobility, ruling over a half-savage population. I say half-savage advisedly. The commonalty in the streets were wild, unshorn, and in rags. The most public places were not safe after nightfall. The College, the public buildings, and the great gentry's houses were splendid (the latter unfinished for the most part) ; but the people were in a state more wretched than any vulgar I have ever known : the exercise of their religion was only half allowed to them ; their clergy were forced to be educated out of the country ; their aristocracy was quite distinct from them ; there was a Protestant nobility, and in the towns, poor insolent Protestant corporations, with a bankrupt retinue of mayors, alder- men, and municipal oflScers — all of whom figured in addresses and had the public voice in the country ; but there was no sympathy and connection between the upper and the lower people of the Irish. To one who had been bred so much abroad as myself, this difference between Catholic and Protestant was doubly striking ; and though as firm as a rock in my own faith, yet I could not 220 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. help remembering my grandfather held a different one, and wonder- ing that there should be such a political difference between the two. I passed among my neighbours for a dangerous leveller, for enter- taining and expressing such opinions, and especially for asking the priest of the parish to my table at Castle Lyndon. He was a gentleman, educated at Salamanca, and, to my mind, a far better bred and more agreeable companion than his comrade the rector, who had but a dozen Protestants for his congregation ; who was a lord's son, to be sure, but he could hardly speU, and the great field of his labours was in the kennel and cockpit. I did not extend and beautify the house of Castle Lyndon as I had done our other estates, but contented myself with paying an occasional visit there ; exercising an almost royal hospitality, and keeping open house during my stay. When absent, I gave to my aunt, the widow Brady, and her six unmarried daughters (although they always detested me), permission to inhabit the place ; my mother preferring my new mansion of Barryogue. And as my Lord Bullingdon was by this time grown excessively tall and troublesome, I determined to leave him under the care of a proper governor in Ireland, with Mrs. Brady and her six daughters to take care of him ; and he was welcome to faU in love with all the old ladies if he were so minded, and thereby imitate his step- father's example. When tired of Castle Lyndon, his Lordship was at hberty to go and reside at my house with my mamma ; but there was no love lost between him and her, and, on account of my son Bryan, I think she hated him as cordially as ever I myself could possibly do. The county of Devon is not so lucky as the neighbouring county of Cornwall, and has not the share of representatives which the latter possesses; where I have known a moderate country gentle- man, with a few score of hundreds per annum from his estate, treble his income by returning three or four Members to Parliament, and by the influence with Ministers which these seats gave him. The parliamentary interest of the house of Lyndon had been grossly neglected during my wife's minority, and the incapacity of the Earl her father ; or, to speak more correctly, it had been smuggled away from the Lyndon family altogether by the adroit old hypocrite of Tiptoff Castle, who acted as most kinsmen and guardians do by their wards and relatives, and robbed them. The Marquess of Tiptoff returned four Members to Parliament : two for the borough of Tippleton, which, as all the world knows, lies at the foot of our estate of Hackton, boimded on the other side by Tiptoff Park. For time out of mind we had sent Members for that borough, until Tiptoff, taking advantage of the late lord's imbecihty, put in his PAELIAMENTARY MATTEES 221 own nominees. When his eldest son became of age, of course my Lord was to take his seat for Tippleton; when Eigby (Nabob Rigby, who made his fortune under Olive in India) died, the Marquess thought fit to bring down his second son, my Lord George Poynings, to whom I have introduced the reader in a former chapter, and determined, in his high mightiness, that ho too should go in and swell the ranks of the Opposition — the big old Whigs, with whom the Marquess acted. Eigby had been for some time in an ailing condition previous to his demise, and you may be sure that the circumstance of his failing health had not been passed over by the gentry of the county, who were stanch Government men for the most part, and hated my Lord Tiptoff 's principles as dangerous and ruinous. " We have been looking out for a man to fight against him," said the squires to me ; "we can only match Tiptoff out of Hackton Castle. You, Mr. Lyndon, are our man, and at the next county election we will swear to bring you in." I hated the TiptofFs so, that I would have fought them at any election. They not only would not visit at Hackton, but declined to receive those who visited us ; they kept the women of the county from receiving my wife ; they invented half the wild stories of my profligacy and extravagance with which the neighbourhood was entertained ; they said I had frightened my wife into marriage, and that she was a lost woman ; they hinted that BuUingdon's life was not secure under my roof, that his treatment was odious, and that I wanted to put him out of the way to make place for Bryan my son. I could scarce have a friend to Hackton, but they counted the bottles drunk at my table. They ferreted out my dealings with my lawyers and agents. If a creditor was unpaid, every item of his bill was known at Tiptoif Hall ; if I looked at a farmer's daughter, it was said I had ruined her. My faults are many, I confess, and as a domestic character, I can't boast of any particular regidarity, or temper; but Lady Lyndon and I did not quarrel more than fashionable people do, and, at first, we always used to make it up pretty well. I am a man full of errors, certainly, but not the devil that these odious backbiters at Tiptofl" represented me to be. For the first three years I never struck my wife but when I was in liquor. When I flung the carving-knife at BuUingdon I was drunk, as everybody present can testify; but as for having any systematic scheme against the poor lad, I can declare solemnly that, beyond merely hating him (and one's inclinations are not in one's power), I am guilty of no evil towards him. I had sufiicient motives, then, for enmity against the TiptofFs, and am not a man to let a feeling of that kind lie inactive. Though 222 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. a Whig, or, perhaps, because a Whig, the Marquess was one of the haughtiest men breathing, and treated commoners as his idol the great Earl used to treat them — after he came to a coronet himself — as so many low vassals, who might be proud to lick his shoe- buckle. When the Tippleton mayor and corporation waited, upon him, he received them covered, never offered Mr. Mayor a chair, but retired when the refreshments were brought, or had them served to the worshipful aldermen in the steward's room. These honest Britons never rebelled against such treatment, until instructed to do so by my patriotism. No, the dogs liked to be buUied ; and, in the course of a long experience, I have met with but very few Englishmen who are not of their way of thinking. It was not until I opened their eyes that they knew their degradation. I invited the Mayor to Hackton, and Mrs. Mayoress (a very buxom pretty groceress she was, by the way) I made sit by my wife, and drove them both out to the races in my cunicle. Lady Lyndon fought very hard against this condescension ; but I had a way with her, as the saying is, and though she had a temper, yet I had a better one. A temper, psha ! A wild-cat has a temper, but a keeper can get the better of it ; and I know very few women in the world whom I could not master. " Well, I made much of the mayor and corporation ; sent them bucks for their dinners, or asked them to mine ; made a point of attending their assemblies, dancing with their wives and daughters, going through, in short, all the acts of politeness which are necessary on such occasions : and though old Tiptoff must have seen my goings on, yet his head was so much in the clouds, that he never once con- descended to imagine his dynasty could be overthrown in his own town of Tippleton, and issued his mandates as securely as if he had been the Grand Turk, and the Tippletonians no better than so many slaves of his will. Every post which brought us any account of Rigby's increasing illness, was the sure occasion of a dinner from me ; so much so, that my friends of the hunt used to laugh and say, " Rigby's worse ; there's a corporation dinner at Hackton." It was in 1776, when the American war broke out, that I came into Parliament. My Lord Chatham, whose wisdom his party in those days used to call superhuman, raised his oracular voice in the House of Peers against the American contest ; and my countryman, Mr. Burke — a great philosopher, but a plaguey long-winded orator — was the champion of the rebels in the Commons — where, however, thanks to British patriotism, he could get very few to back him. Old Tiptoff would have sworn black was white if the great Earl had bidden him ; and he made his son give up his commission in the I AM RETUENED TO PAELIAMENT 223 Guards, in imitation of my Lord Pitt, who resigned his ensigncy rather than fight against what he called his American brethren. But this was a height of patriotism extremely little relished in England, where, ever since the breaking out of hostilities, our people hated the Americans heartily; and where, when we heard of the fight of Lexington, and the glorious victory of Bunker's Hill (as we used to call it in those days), the nation flusl^ed out in its usual hot-headed anger. The talk was all against the philosophers after that, and the people were most indomitably loyal. It was not until the land-tax was increased, that the gentry began to grumble a little ; but still my party in the West was very strong against the Tiptoffs, and I determined to take the field and win as usual. The old Marquess neglected every one of the decent precautions which are requisite in a parliamentary campaign. He signified to the corporation and freeholders his intention of presenting his son, Lord George, and his deske that the latter should be elected their burgess ; but he scarcely gave so much as a glass of beer to whet the devotedness of his adherents : and I, as I need not say, engaged every tavern in Tippleton in my behalf. There is no need to go over the twenty-times-told tale of an election. I rescued the borough of Tippleton from the hands of Lord Tiptoff and his son. Lord George. I had a savage sort of satisfaction, too, in forcing my wife (who had been at one time ex- ceedingly smitten by her kinsman, as I have already related) to take part against him, and to wear and distribute my colours when the day of election came. And when we spoke at one another, I told the crowd that I had beaten Lord George in love, that I had beaten him in war, and that I would now beat him in Parliament ; and so I did, as the event proved : for, to the inexpressible anger of the old Marquess, Barry Lyndon, Esquire, was returned member of Parliament for Tippleton, in place of John Rigby, Esquire, deceased , and I threatened him at the next election to turn him out of both his seats, and went to attend my duties in Parliament. It was then I seriously determined on achieving for myself the Irish peerage, to be enjoyed after me by my beloved son and heir. ' CHAPTER XVIII 7.V fTHICH MY GOOD FORTUNE BEGINS TO WEAVER AND now, if any people should be disposed to think my history immoral (for I have heard some assert that I was a man ■■ who never deserved that so much prosperity should fall to my share), I will beg those cavillers to do me the favour to read the conclusion of my adventures ; when they will see it was no such great prize that I had won, and that wealth, splendour, thirty thousand per annum, and a seat in Parliament, are often purchased at too dear a rate, when one has to buy those enjoyments at the price of personal liberty, and saddled with the charge of a troublesome wife. They are the deuce, these troublesome wives, and that is the truth. No man knows until he tries how wearisome and dis- heartening the burthen of one of them is, and how the annoyance grows and strengthens from year to year, and the courage becomes weaker to bear it ; so that that trouble which seemed light and trivial the first year, becomes intolerable ten years after. I have heard of one of the classical fellows in the dictionary who began by carrying a calf up a hill every day, and so continued until the animal grew to be a buU, which he still easily accommodated upon his shoulders ; but take my word for it, young unmarried gentle- men, a wife is a very much harder pack to the back than the biggest heifer in Smithfield : and, if I can prevent one of you from marrying, the " Memoirs of Barry Lyndon, Esq.," will not be written in vain. Not that my Lady was a scold or a shrew, as some wives are ; I could have managed to have cured her of that ; but she was of a cowardly, crying, melancholy, maudlin temper, which is to me still more odious : do what one would to please her, she would never be happy or in good-humour. I left her alone after a while; and because, as was natural in my case, where a disagreeable home obliged me to seek amusement and companions abroad, she added a mean detestable jealousy to all her other faults ; I could not for some time pay the commonest attention to any other woman, but my Lady Lyndon must weep, and wring her hands, and threaten to commit suicide, and I know not what. LADY LYNDON'S INFATUATION 225 Her death would have been no comfort to me, as I leave any person of common prudence to imagine ; for that scoundrel of a young BuUingdon (who was now growing up a tall, gawky, swarthy lad, and about to become my greatest plague and annoy- ance) woidd have inherited every penny of the property, and I should have been left considerably poorer even than when I married the widow : for I spent my personal fortune as well as the lady's income in the keeping up of our rank, and was always too much a man of honour and spirit to save a penny of Lady Lyndon's income. Let this be flung in the teeth of my detractors, who say I never could have so injured the Lyndon property had I not been making a private purse for myself; and who believe that, even in my present painful situation, I have hoards of gold laid by some- where, and could come out as a Croesus when I choose. I never raised a shilling upon Lady Lyndon's property but I spent it like a man of honour ; besides incumng numberless personal obligations for money, which all went to the common stock. Independent of the Lyndon mortgages and encumbrances, I owe myself at least one hundred and twenty thousand pounds, which I spent while in occupancy of my wife's estate ; so that I may justly say that property is indebted to me in the above-mentioned sum. Although I have described the utter disgust and distaste which speedily took possession of my breast as regarded Lady Lyndon ; and although I took no particular pains (for I am aU frankness and aboveboard) to disguise my feelings in general, yet she was of such a mean spirit, that she pursued me with her regard in spite of my indifference to her, and would kindle up at the smallest kind word I spoke to her. The fact is, between my respected reader and myself, that I was one of- the handsomest and most dashing young men of England in those days, and my wife was violently in love with me ; and though I say it who shouldn't, as the phrase goes, my wife was not the only woman of rank in London who had a favourable opinion of the humble Irish adven- turer. What a riddle these women are, I have often thought ! I have seen the most elegant creatures at St. James's grow wild for love of the coarsest and most vulgar of men; the cleverest women passionately admire the most illiterate of our sex, and so on. There is no end to the contrariety in the foolish creatures; and though I don't mean to hint that / am vulgar or illiterate, as the persons mentioned above (I would cut the throat of any man who dared to whisper a word against my birth or my breed- ing), yet I have shown that Lady Lyndon had plenty oi reason to dislike me if she chose : but, like the rest of her siUy sex, she was governed by infatuation, not reason; and, up to the very 4 p 226 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. last day of our being together, wouM be reconciled to me, and fondle me, if I addressed her a single kind word. "Ah," she would say, in these moments of tenderness — "Ah, Redmond, if you would always be so ! " And in these fits of love she was the most easy creature in the world to be persuaded, and would have signed away her whole property, had it been possible. And, I must confess, it was with very little attention on my pai-t that I could bring her into good-humour. To walk with her on the Mall, or at Ranelagh, to attend her to church at St. James's, to purchase any little present or trinket for her, was enough to coax her. Such is female inconsistency ! The next day she would be calling me "Mr. Barry" probably, and be bemoaning her miserable fate that she ever should have been united to such a monster. So it was she was pleased to call one of the most brilliant men in his Majesty's three kingdoms : and I warrant me other ladies had a much more flattering opinion of me. Then she would threaten to leave me ; but I had a hold of her in the person of her son, of whom she was passionately fond : I don't know why, for she had always neglected Bullingdon, her elder son, and never bestowed a thought upon his health, his welfare, or his education. It was our young boy, then, who formed the great bond of union between me and her Ladyship ; and there was no plan of ambition I could propose in which she would not join for the poor lad's behoof, and no expense she would not eagerly incur, if it might by any means be shown to tend to his advancement. I can tell you, bribes were administered, and in high places too, — so near the royal person of his Majesty, that you would be astonished were I to mention what great personages condescended to receive our loans. I got from the English and Irish heralds a description and detailed pedigree of the Barony of Barryogue, and claimed respectfully to be reinstated in my ancestral titles, and also to be rewarded with the Viscounty of Ballybarry. " This head would become a coronet," ray Lady would sometimes say, in her fond moments, smoothing down my hair; and, indeed, there is many a puny whipster in their Lordships' house who has neither my presence nor my courage, my pedigree, nor any of my merits. The striving after this peerage I consider to have been one of the most unlucky of all my unlucky dealings at this period. I made unheard-of sacrifices to bring it about. I lavished money here and diamonds there. I bought lands at ten times their value ; purchased pictures and articles of vertu at ruinous prices. I gave repeated entertainments to those friends to my claims who, being about the Royal person, were likely to advance it. I lost many a THIRTEENTH EARL OP CRABS 227 bet to the Royal Dukes his Majesty's brothers; but let these matters be forgotten, and, because of my private injuries, let me not be deficient in loyalty to my Sovereign. The only person in this transaction whom I shall mention openly, is that old scamp and swindler, Gustavus Adolphus, thirteenth Earl of Crabs. This nobleman was one of the gentle- men of his Majesty's closet, and one witli whom the revered monarch was on terms of considerable intimacy. A close regard had sprung up between them in the old King's time ; when his Royal Highness, playing at battledore and shuttlecock with the young lord on the landing-place of the great staircase at Kew, in some moment of irritation the Priuce of Wales kicked the young Earl downstairs, who, falling, broke his leg. The Prince's hearty repentance for his violence caused him to ally himself closely with the person whom he had injured ; and when his Majesty came to the throne there was no man, it is said, of whom the Earl of Bute was so jealous as of my Lord Crabs. The latter was poor and extravagant, and Bute got him out of the way, by sending him on the Russian and other embassies ; but on this favourite's dismissal. Crabs sped back from the Continent, and was appointed almost immediately to a place about his Majesty's person. It was with this disreputable nobleman that I contracted an imlucky intimacy ; when, fresh and unsuspecting, I first established myself in town, after my marriage with Lady Lyndon : and, as Crabs was really one of the most entertaining fellows in the world, I took a sincere pleasure in his company; besides the interested desire I had in cultivating the society of a man who was so near the person of the highest personage in the realm. To hear the fellow, you would fancy that there was scarce any appointment made in which he had not a share. He told me, for instance, of Charles Fox being turned out of his place a day before poor Charley himself was aware of the fact. He told me when the Howes were coming back from America, and who was to succeed to the command there. Not to multiply instances, it was upon this person that I fixed my chief reliance for the advancement of my claim to the Barony of Barryogue and the Viscounty which I proposed to get. One of the main causes of expense which this ambition of mine entailed upon me was the fitting out and arming a company of infantry from the Castle Lyndon and Hackton estates in Ireland, which I off'ered to my gi-acious Sovereign for the campaign against the American rebels. These troops, superbly equijjped and clothed, were embarked at Portsmouth in the year 1778 ; and the patriotism of the gentleman who had raised them was so acceptable at Court, 228 THE MEMOIES OP BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. that, on being presented by my Lord North, his Majesty con- descended to notice me particularly, and said, "That's right, Mr. Lyndon, raise another company ; and go with them, too ! " But this was by no means, as the reader may suppose, to my notions. A man with thirty thousand pounds per annum is a fool to risk his life like a common beggar : and on this account I have always admired the conduct of my friend Jack Bolter, who had been a most active and resolute cornet of horse, and, as such, engaged in every scrape and skirmish which could fall to his lot ; but just before the battle of Minden he received news that his uncle, the great army contractor, was dead, and had left him five thousand per annum. Jack that instant -applied for leave ; and, as it was refused him on the eve of a general action, my gentleman took it, and never fired a pistol again : except against an officer who ques- tioned his courage, and whom he winged in such a cool and deter- mined manner, as showed all the world that it was from prudence and a desire of enjoying his money, not from cowardice, that he quitted the profession of arras. When this Hackton company was raised, my stepson, who was now sixteen years of age, was most eager to be allowed to join it, and I would have gladly consented to have been rid of the young man ; but his guardian. Lord TiptofF, who thwarted me in every- thing, refused his permission, and the lad's military inclinations were balked. If he could have gone on the expedition, and a rebel rifle had put an end to him, I believe, to tell the truth, I should not have been grieved overmuch ; and I should have had the pleasure of seeing my other son the heir to the estate which his father had won with so much pains. The education of this young nobleman had been, I confess, some of the loosest; and perhaps the truth is, I did neglect the brat. He was of so wild, savage, and insubordinate a nature, that I never had the least regard for him ; and before me and his mother, at least, was so moody and dull, that I thought instruction thrown away upon him, anil left him for the most part to shift for himself For two whole years he remained in Ireland, away from us ; and when in England, we kept him mainly at Hackton, never caring to have the uneoutli, ungainly lad in the genteel company in the capital in which we naturally mingled. My own poor boy, on the contrary, was the most polite and engaging child ever seen : it was a pleasure to treat him with kindness and distinction ; and before he was five years old, the little fellow was the pink of fashion, beauty, and good breeding. In fact he could not have been otherwise, with the care both his parents bestowed upon him, and the attentions that were lavished BRYAN DISPLEASES THE RECTOR 229 upon him in every way. When he was four years old, I quarrelled with the English nurse who had attended upon him, and about whom my wife had been so jealous, and procured for him a French gouvernante, who had lived with families of the first quality in Palis ; and who, of course, must set my Lady Lyndon jealous too. Under the care of this young woman my little rogue learned to chatter French most charmingly. It would have done your heart good to hear the dear rascal swear Mort de ma vie 1 and to see him stamp his little foot, and send the manants and canaille of the domestics to the trente mille diables. He was precocious in all things : at a very early age he would mimic everybody ; at five, he would sit at table, and drink his glass of champagne with the best of us ; and his nurse would teach him little French catches, and the last Parisian songs of Vade and CoUard, — pretty songs they were too ; and would make such of his hearers as understood French burst with laughing, and, I promise you, scandalise some of the old dowagers who were admitted into the society of his mamma : not that there were many of them ; for I did not encourage the visits of what you call respectable people to Lady Lyndon. They are sad spoilers of sport, — tale-bearers, envious narrow-minded people ; making mischief between man and wife. Whenever any of these grave personages in hoops and high heels used to make their appear- ance at Hackton, or in Berkeley Square, it was my chief pleasure to fiighten them off; and I would make my little Bryan dance, sing, and play the diable a quatre, and aid him myself, so as to scare the old frumps. I never shall forget the solemn remonstrances of our old square- toes of a rector at Hackton, who made one or two vain attempts to teach little Bryan Latin, and with whose innumerable children I sometimes allowed the boy to associate. They learned some of Bryan's French songs from him, which their mother, a poor soul who understood pickles and custards much better than French, used fondly to encourage them in singing; but which their father one day hearing, he sent Miss Sarah to her bedroom and bread and water for a week, and solemnly horsed Master Jacob in the presence of all his brothers and sisters, and of Bryan, to whom he hoped that flogging would act as a warning. But my little rogue kicked and plunged at the old parson's shins until he was obliged to get his sexton to hold him down, and swore, corbleu, morbleu, ventrebleu, that his young friend Jacob should not be maltreated. After this scene, his reverence forbade Bryan the rectory-house ; on which I swore that his eldest son, who was bringing up for the ministry, should never have the succession of the living of Hackton, which I had thoughts of bestowing on him ; and his father said, with a 230 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. canting hypocritical air, which I hate, that Heaven's will must be done ; that he would not have his children disobedient or cor- rupted for the sake of a bishopric ; and wrote me a pompous and solemn letter, charged with Latin quotations, taking farewell of me and my house. "I do so with regret," added the old gentleman, " for I have received so many kindnesses from the Hackton family that it goes to my heart to be disunited from them. My poor, I fear, may suffer in consequence of my separation from you, and my being henceforward unable to bring to your notice instances of distress and affliction; which, when they were known to you, I will do you the justice to say, your generosity was always prompt to relieve." There may have been some truth in this, for the old gentleman was perpetually pestering me with petitions, and I know for a certainty, from his own charities, was often without a shilling in his pocket ; but I suspect the good dinners at Hackton had a considerable share in causing his regrets at the dissolution of our intimacy : and I know that his wife was quite sorry to forego the acquaintance of Bryan's gouvernante, Mademoiselle Louison, who had all the newest French fashions at her fingers' ends, and who never went to the rectory but you would see the girls of the family tm-n out in new sacks or mantles the Sunday after. I used to punish the old rebel by snoring very loud in my pew on Sundays during sermon-time ; and I got a governor pre- sently for Bryan, and a chaplain of my own, when he became of age sufficient to be separated from the women's society and guardian- ship. His English nurse I married to my head gardener, with a handsome portion ; his French gouvernante I bestowed upon my faithful German Fritz, not forgetting the dowry in the latter instance ; and they set up a French dining-house in Soho, and I believe at the time I write they are richer in the world's goods than their generous and free-handed master. For Bryan I now got a young gentleman from Oxford, the Rev. Edmund Lavender, who was commissioned to teach him Latin, when the boy was in the humour, and to ground him in history, grammar, and the other qualifications of a gentleman. Lavender was a precious addition to our society at Hackton. He was the means of making a deal of fun there. He was the butt of all our jokes, and bore them with the most admirable and martyr- like patience. He was one of that sort of men who would rather be kicked by a great man than not be noticed by him ; and I have often put his wig into the fire in the face of the company, when he would laugh at the joke as well as any man there. It was a delight to put him on a high-mettled horse, and send him THE CASTLE LYNDON ESTATE 231 after the hounds, — pale, sweating, calling on us, for Heaven's sake, to stop, and holding on for dear life by the mane and the crupper. How it happened that the fellow was never killed I know not ; but I suppose hanging is the way in which his neck will be broke. He never met with any accident, to speak of, in our hunting- matches : but you were pretty sure to find him at dinner in his place at the bottom of the table making the punch, whence he would be carried off fuddled to bed before the night was over. Many a time have Bryan and I painted his face black on those occasions. We put him into a haunted room, and frightened his soul out of his body with ghosts ; we let loose cargoes of rats upon his bed; we cried fire, and filled his boots with water; we cut the legs of his preaching-chair, and filled his sermon-book with snufl!. Poor Lavender bore it all with patience ; and at our parties, or when we came to London, was amply repaid by being allowed to sit with the gentlefolks, and to fancy himself in tlie society of men of fashion. It was good to hear the contempt with which he talked about our rector. " He has a son, sir, who is a servitor : and a servitor at a small college," he would say. " How could you, my dear sir, think of giving the reversion of Hackton to such a low-bred creature ? " I should now speak of my other son, at least my Lady Lyndon's : I mean the Viscount BuUingdon. I kept him in Ireland for some years, under the guardianship of my mother, whom I had installed at Castle Lyndon ; and great, I promise you, was her state in that occupation, and prodigious the good soul's splendour and haughty bearing. With all her oddities the Castle Lyndon estate was the best managed of all our possessions ; the rents were excellently paid, the charges of getting them in smaller than they would have been under the management of any steward. It was astonishing what small expenses the good widow inciured ; although she kept up the dignity of the two families, as she would say. She had a set of domestics to attend upon the young lord ; she never went out her- self but in an old gilt coach and six ; the house was kept clean and tight ; the furniture and gardens in the best repair ; and, in our occasional visits to Ireland, we never found any house we visited in such good condition as our own. There were a score of ready serving- lasses, and half as many trim men about the castle ; and everything in as fine condition as the best housekeeper could make it. All this she did with scarcely any charges to us : for she fed sheep and cattle in the parks, and made a handsome profit of them at Ballinasloe; she supplied I don't know how many towns with butter and bacon ; and the fruit and vegetables from the gardens of Castle Lyndon got the highest prices in Dublin market. She 232 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. had no waste in the kitchen, as there used to be in most of our Irish houses ; and there was no consumption of liquor in the cellars, for the old lady drank water, and saw little or no company. All her society was a couple of the girls of my ancient flame Nora Brady, now Mrs. Quin ; who with her husband had spent almost all their property, and who came to see me once in London, looking very old, fat, and slatternly, with two dirty children at her side. She wept very much when she saw me, called me "Sir" and "Mr. Lyndon," at wliich I was not sorry, and begged me to help her husband ; which I did, getting him, through my friend Lord Crabs, a place in the excise in Ireland, and paying the passage of his family and himself to that country. I found him a dirty, cast -down, snivelling drunkard; and, looking at poor Nora, could not but wonder at the days when I had thought her a divinity. But if ever I have had a regard for a woman, I remain through life her constant friend, and could mention a thousand such instances of my generous and faithful disposition. Young Bullingdon, however, was almost the only person with whom she was concerned that my mother could not keep in order. The accounts she sent me of him at first were such as gave my paternal heart considerable pain. He rejected all regularity and authority. He would absent himself for weeks from the house on sporting or other expeditions. He was when at home silent and queer, refusing to make my mother's game at piquet of evenings, but plunging into all sorts of musty old books, with which he muddled his brains ; more at ease laughing and chatting with the pipers and maids in the servants' haU, than with the gentry in the drawing-room ; always cutting jibes and jokes at Mrs. Barry, at which she (who was rather a slow woman at repartee) would chafe violently : in fact, leading a life of insubordination and scandal. And, to crown all, the young scapegrace took to frequenting the society of the Romish priest of the parish — a threadbare rogue, from some Popish seminary in France or Spain — rather than the company of the vicar of Castle Lyndon, a gentleman of Trinity, who kept his hounds and drank his two bottles a day. Regard for the lad's religion made me not hesitate then how I should act towards him. If I have any principle which has guided me through life, it has been respect for the Establishment, and a hearty scorn and abhorrence of all other forms of belief. I there- fore sent my French body-servant, in the year 17 — , to Dublin with a commission to bring the young reprobate over; and the report brought to me was that he had passed the whole of the last night of his stay in Ireland with his Popish friend at the mass-house ; that he and my mother had a violent quarrel on the very last day ; INSOLENCE OF MY SON BULLINGDON 233 that, on the contrary, he kissed Biddy and Dosy, her two nieces, who seemed very sorry that he should go ; and that being pressed to go and visit the rector, he absolutely refused, saying he was a wicked old Pharisee, inside whose doors he would never set his foot. The doctor wrote me a letter, warning me against the deplorable errors of this young imp of perdition^ as he called him ; and I could see that there was no love lost between them. But it appeared that, if not agreeable to the gentry of the country, young Bullingdon had a huge popularity among the common people. There was a regular crowd weeping round the gate when his coach took its departure. Scores of the ignorant savage wretches ran for miles along by the side of the chariot ; and some went even so far as to steal away before his departure, and appear at the Pigeon-House at Dublin to bid him a last farewell. It was with considerable difBculty that some of these people could be kept from secreting themselves in the vessel, and accompanying their young lord to England. To do the young scoundrel justice, when he came among us, he was a manly noble-looking lad, and everything in his bearing and appearance betokened the high blood from which he came. He was the very portrait of some of the dark cavaliers of the Lyndon race, whose pictures hung in the gallery at Hackton : where the lad was fond of spending the chief part of his time, occupied with the musty old books which he took out of the library, and which I hate to see a young man of spirit poring over. Always in my company he preserved the most rigid silence, and a haughty scornful demeanour ; which was so much the more disagreeable because there was nothing in his behaviour I could actually take hold of to find fault with : although his whole conduct was insolent and supercilious to the highest degree. His mother was very much agitated at receiving him on his arrival ; if he felt any such agitation he certainly did • not show it. He made her a very low and formal bow when he kissed her hand ; and, when I held out mine, put both his hands behind his back, stared me full in the face, and bent his head, saying, " Mr. Barry Lyndon, I believe ; " turned on his heel, and began talking about the state of the weather to his mother, whom he always styled "Your Ladyship." She was angry at this pert bearing, and, when they were alone, rebuked him sharply for not shaking hands with his father. " My father, madam 1 " said he ; " surely you mistake. My father was the Eight Honourable Sir Charles LjTidon. / at least have not forgotten him, if others have." It was a declaration of war to me, as I saw at once ; though I declare I was willing enough to have received the boy well on his coming amongst us, and to 234 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. have lived with him on terms of friendliness. But as men serve me I serve them. Who can blame me for my after-quarrels with this young reprobate, or lay upon my shoulders the evils which afterwards befell? Perhaps I lost my temper, and my subsequent treatment of him toas hard. But it was he began the quarrel, and not I ; and the evil consequences which ensued were entirely of his creating. As it is best to nip vice in the bud, and for a master of a family to exercise his authority in such a manner as that there may be no question about it, I took the earliest opportunity of coming to close quarters with Master Bullingdon ; and the day after his arrival among us, upon his refusal to perform some duty which I requested of him, I had him conveyed to my study, and thrashed him soundly. This process, I confess, at first, agitated me a good deal, for I had never laid a whip on a lord before ; but I got speedily used to the. practice, and his back and my whip became so well acquainted, that I warrant there was very little ceremony between us after a while. If I were to repeat all the instances of the insubordination and brutal conduct of young Bullingdon, I should weary the reader. His perseverance in resistance was, I think, even greater than mine in correcting him : for a man, be he ever so much resolved to do his duty as a parent, can't be flogging his children all day, or for every fault they commit : and though I got the character of being so cruel a stepfather to him, I pledge my word I spared him correction when he merited it many more times than I administered it. Besides, there were eight clear months in the year when he was quit of me, during the time of my presence in London, at my place in Parliament and at the Court of my Sovereign. At this period I made no difficulty to allow him to profit by the Latin and Greek of the old rector; who had christened him, and had a considerable influence over the wayward lad. After a scene or a quarrel between us, it was generally to the rectory-house that the young rebel would fly for refuge and counsel ; and I must own that the parson was a pretty just umpire between us in our disputes. Once he led the boy back to Hackton by the hand, and actually brought him into my presence, although he had vowed never to enter the doors in my lifetime again, and said, " He had brought his Lordship to acknowledge his error, and submit to any punishment I might think proper to inflict." Upon which I caned him in the presence of two or three friends of mine, with whom I was sitting drinking at the time ; and to do him justice, he bore a pretty severe punishment without wincing or crying in the least. This will show that I was not too severe in my treatment I USE LADY LYNDON ROUGHLY 235 of the lad, as I had the authority of the clergyman himself for inflicting the correction which I thought proper. Twice or thrice, Lavender, Bryan's governor, attempted to punish my Lord BuUingdon ; but I promise you the rogue was too strong for him, and levelled the Oxford man to the ground with a chair : greatly to the delight of little Bryan, who cried out, " Bravo, Bully ! thump him, thump him ! " And Bully certainly did, to the governor's heart's content ; who never attempted personal chastisement after- wards ; but contented himself by bringing the tales of his Lordship's misdoings to me, his natural protector and guardian. With the child, BuUingdon was, strange to say, pretty tractable. He took a liking for the little fellow, — as, indeed, everybody who saw that darling boy did, — liked him the more, he said, because he was " half a Lyndon." And well he might like him, for many a time, at the dear angel's intercession of " Papa, don't flog Bully to-day ! " I have held my hand, and saved him a horsing, which he richly deseiTed. With his mother, at first, he would scarcely deign to have any communication. He said she was no longer one of the family. Why should he love her, as she had never been a mother to him ? But it will give the reader an idea of the dogged obstinacy and surliness of the lad's character, when I mention one trait regarding him. It has been made a matter of complaint against me, that I denied him the education befitting a gentleman, and never sent him to college or to school ; but the fact is, it was of his own choice that he went to neither. He had the offer repeatedly from me (who wished to see as little of his impudence as possible), but he as repeatedly declined ; and, for a long time, I could not make out what was the charm which kept him in a house where he must have been far from conjfortable. It came out, however, at last. There used to be very frequent disputes between my Lady Lyndon and myself, in which sometimes she was wrong, sometimes I was ; and which, as neither of us had very angeUcal tempers, used to run very high. I was often in liquor; and when in that condition, what gentleman is master of himself? Perhaps I did, in this state, use my Lady rather roughly ; fling a glass or two at her, and call her by a few names that were not complimentary. I may have threatened her life (which it was obviously my interest not to take), and have frightened her, in a word, considerably. After one of these disputes, in which she ran screaming through the galleries, and I, as tipsy as a lord, came staggering after, it appears BuUingdon was attracted out of his room by the noise ; as I came up with her, the audacious rascal tripped up my heels, which 236 THE MEMOIES OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. were not very steady, and catching his fainting mother in his arras, took her into his own room ; where he, upon her entreaty, swore he would never leave the house as long as she continued united with me. I knew nothing of the vow, or indeed of the tipsy frolic which was the occasion of it ; I was taken up " glorious," as the phrase is, by my servants, and put to bed, and, in the morning, had no more recollection of what had occurred any more than of what happened when I was a baby at the breast. Lady Lyndon told me of the circumstance years after ; and I mention it here, as it enables me to plead honourably " not guilty " to one of the absurd charges of cruelty trumped up against me with respect to my step- son. Let my detractors apologise, if they dare, for the conduct of a graceless ruffian who trips up the heels of his own natural guardian and stepfather after dinner. This circumstance served to unite mother and son for a little ; but their characters were too different. I believe she was too fond of me ever to allow him to be sincerely reconciled to her. As he grew up to be a man, his hatred towards me assumed an intensity quite wicked to think of (and which I promise you I returned with interest) : and it was at the age of sixteen, I think, that the impudent young hangdog, on my return from Parliament one summer, and on my proposing to cane him as usual, gave me to understand that he would submit to no farther chastisement from me, and said, grinding his teeth, that he would shoot me if I laid hands on him. I looked at him ; he was grown, in fact, to be a tall young man, and I gave up that necessary part of his education. It was about this time that I raised the company which was to serve in America ; and my enemies in the country (and since my victory over the Tiptoffs I scarce need say I had many of them) began to propagate the most shameful reports regarding my conduct to that precious young scapegrace my stepson, and to insinuate that I actually wished to get rid of him. Thus my loyalty to my Sovereign was actually construed into a horrid unnatural attempt on my part on BuUingdon's life ; and it was said that I had raised the American corps for the sole purpose of getting the young Viscount to command it, and so of getting rid of him. I am not sure that they had not fixed upon the name of the very man in the company who was ordered to despatch him at the first general action, and the bribe I was to give him for this delicate piece of service. But the truth is, I was of opinion then (and though the fulfil- ment of my prophecy has been delayed, yet I make no doubt it will be brought to pass ere long), that my Lord Bullingdon needed none of my aid in sending him into the other world ; but had a happy SAECASMS OF MY LORD BULLINGDON 237 knack of finding the way thither himself, which he would be sure to pursue. In truth, he began upon this way early : of all the violent, daring, disobedient scapegraces that ever caused an affec- tionate parent pain, he was certainly the most incorrigible ; there was no beating him, or coaxing him, or taming him. For instance, with my little son, when his governor brought him into the room as we were over the bottle after dinner, my Lord would begin his violent and undutiful sarcasms at me. " Dear child," he would say, beginning to caress and fondle him, " what a pity it is I am not dead for thy sake ! The Lyndons would then have a worthier representative, and enjoy all the benefit of the illustrious blood of the Barrys of Barryogue ; would they not, Mr. Barry Lyndon 1 " He always chose the days when company, or the clergy or gentry of the neighbourhood, were present, to make these insolent speeches to me. Another day (it was Bryan's birthday) we were giving a grand ball and gala at Hackton, and it was time for my httle Bryan to make his appearance among us, as he usually did in the smartest little court-suit you ever saw (ah me ! but it brings tears into my old eyes now to think of the bright looks of that darling little face). There was a great crowding and tittering when the chUd came in, led by his half-brother, who walked into the dancing-room (would you believe it?) in his stocking-feet, leading little Bryan by the hand, paddling about in the great shoes of the elder ! " Don't you think he fits my shoes very well, Sir Eiohard Wargrave '? " says the young reprobate : upon which the company began to look at each other and to titter ; and his mother, coming up to Lord BuUingdon with great dignity, seized the child to her breast, and said, " From the manner in which I love this child, my Lord, you ought to know how I would have loved his elder brother had he proved worthy of any mother's afi'ection ! " and, bursting into tears. Lady Lyndon left the apartment, and the young lord rather discomfited for once. At last, on one occasion, his behaviour to me was so outrageous (it was in the hunting-field and in a large public company), that I lost all patience, rode at the urchin straight, wrenched him out of his saddle with all my force, and, flinging him roughly to the ground, sprang down to it myself, and administered such a correc- tion across the young caitifFs head and shoulders with my horsewhip as might have ended in his death, had I not been restrained in time ; for my passion was up, and I was in a state to do murder or any other crime. The lad was taken home and put to bed, where he lay for a day or two in a fever, as much from rage and vexation as from the chastisement I had given him ; and three days afterwards, on sending 238 THE MEMOIRS OF BAERY LYNDON, ESQ. to inquire at his chamber whether he would join the family at table, a note was found on his table, and his bed was empty and cold. The young villain had fled, and had the audacity to write in the following terms regarding me to my wife, his mother : — \ " Madam," he said, " I have borne as long as mortal could endure the ill-treatment of the insolent Irish upstart whom you have taken to yoiu- bed. It is not only the lowness of his birth and the general brutality of his manners which disgust me, and must make me hate him so long as I have the honour to bear the name of Lyndon, which he is unworthy of, but the shameful nature of his conduct towards your Ladyship ; his brutal and ungentlemanlike behaviour, his open infidelity, his habits of extravagance, intoxication, his shameless robberies and swindling of my property and yours. It is these insults to you which shock and annoy me, more than the ruffian's infamous conduct to myself I would have stood by your Ladyship as I promised, but you seem to have taken latterly your husband's part ; and, as I cannot personally chastise this low-bred ruffian, who, to our shame be it spoken, is the husband of my mother; and as I cannot bear to witness his treatment of you, and loathe his horrible society as if it were the plague, I am determined to quit my native country : at least during his detested life, or during my own. I possess a small income from my father, of which I have no doubt Mr. Barry will cheat me if he can ; but which, if your Ladyship has some feelings of a mother left, you will, perhaps, award to me. Messrs. Childs, the bankers, can have orders to pay it to me when due ; if they receive no such orders, I shall be not in the least sm-prised, knowing you to be in the hands of a villain who would not scruple to rob on the highway ; and shall try to find out some way in life for myself more honourable than that by which the penniless Irish adventurer has arrived to turn me out of my rights and home." This mad epistle was signed " BuUingdon," and all the neigh- bours vowed that I had been privy to his flight, and would profit by it ; though I declare on my honour my true and sincere desire, after reading the above infamous letter, was to have the author within a good arm's-length of me, that I might let him know my opinion regarding him. But there was no eradicating this idea from people's minds, who insisted that I wanted to kill BuUingdon; whereas murder, as I have said, was never one of my evil qualities ; and even had I wished to injure my young enemy ever so much, common prudence would have made my mind easy, as I knew he was going to ruin his own way. MY RECEPTION IN TOWN AND COUNTKY 239 It was long before we heard of the fate of the audacious young truant ; but after some fifteen months had elapsed, I had the pleasure of being able to refute some of the murderous calumnies which had been uttered against me, by producing a bill with Bullingdon's own signature, drawn from General Tarleton's army in America, where my company was conducting itself with the greatest glory, and with which my Lord was ser^ang as a volunteer. There were some of my kind friends who persisted still in attributing all sorts of wicked intentions to me. Lord Tiptoif would never believe that I would pay any bill, much more any bill of Lord Bullingdon's ; old Lady Betty Grimsby, his sister, persisted in declaring the bill was a forgery, and the poor dear lord dead ; until there came a letter to her Ladyship from Lord Bullingdon himself, who had been at New York at headquarters, and who described at length the splendid festival given by the ofiicers of the gari-ison to our distinguished chieftains, the two Howes. In the meanwhile, if I had murdered my Lord, I could scarcely have been received with more shameful obloquy and slander than now followed me in town and country. "You will hear of the lad's death, be sure," exclaimed one of my friends. " And then his wife's will follow," added another. " He will marry Jenny Jones," added a third; and so on. Lavender brought me the news of these scandals about me : the country was up against me. The farmers on market-days used to touch their hats sulkily, and get out of my way ; the gentlemen who followed my hunt now suddenly seceded from it, and left off my uniform ; at the coimty baU, where I led out Lady Susan Capermore, and took my place third in the dance after the duke and the marquis, as was my wont, all the couples turned away as we came to them, and we were left to dance alone. Sukey Capermore has a love of dancing which would make her dance at a funeral if anybody asked her, and I had too much spirit to give in at this signal instance of insult towards me ; so we danced with some of the very commonest low people at the bottom of the set — your apothecaries, wine-merchants, attorneys, and such scum as are allowed to attend our public assemblies. The bishop, my Lady Lyndon's relative, neglected to invite us to the palace at the assizes ; and, in a word, every indignity was put upon me which could by possibility be heaped upon an innocent and honourable gentleman. My reception in London, whither I now carried my wife and family, was scarcely more cordial. On paying my respects to my Sovereign at St. James's, his Majesty pointedly asked me when I had news of Lord Bullingdon. On which I replied, with no ordinary presence of mind, " Sir, my Lord BuUingdon is fighting 240 THE MEMOIRS OF BARKY LYNDON, ESQ. the rebels against your Majesty's crown in America. Does your Majesty desire that I should send another regiment to aid him?" On which the King turned, on his heel, and I made my bow out of the presence-chamber. When Lady Lyndon kissed the Queen's hand at the drawing-room, I found that precisely the same question had been put to her Ladyship ; and she came home much agitated at the rebuke which had been administered to her. Thus it was that my loyalty was rewarded, and my sacrifice, in favour of my country, viewed ! I took away my establishment abruptly to Paris, where I met with a very different reception : but my stay amidst the enchanting pleasures of that capital was extremely short ; for the French Government, which had been long tampering with the American rebels, now openly acknowledged the independence of the United States. A declaration of war ensued : all we happy English were ordered away from Paris ; and I think I left one or two fair ladies there inconsolable. It is the only place where a gentleman can live as he likes without being incommoded by his wife. The Countess and I, during our stay, scarcely saw each other except upon public occasions, at Versailles, or at the Queen's play-table ; and our dear little Bryan advanced in a thousand ele- gant accomplishments which rendered him the delight of all who knew him. I must not forget to mention here my last interview with my good uncle, the Chevalier de Ballybarry, whom I left at Brussels with strong intentions of making his salut, as the phrase is, and who had gone into retirement at a convent there. Since then he had come into the world again, much to his annoyance and repent- ance ; having fallen desperately in love in his old age with a French actress, who had done as most ladies of her character do, — ruined him, left him, and laughed at him. His repentance was very edifying. Under the guidance of Messieurs of the Irish College, he once more turned his thoughts towards religion ; and his only prayer to me when I saw him and asked in what I could relieve him, was to pay a handsome fee to the convent into which he proposed to enter. This I could not, of course, do : my religious principles forbid- ding me to encourage superstition in anyway; and the old gentleman and I parted rather coolly, in consequence of my refusal, as he said, to make his old days comfortable. I was very poor at the time, that is the fact ; and entre nous, the Rosemont of the French opera, an indifferent dancer, but a charm- ing figure and ankle, was ruining me in diamonds, equipages, and furniture bills, added to which I had a run of ill-luck at play, and was forced to meet my losses by the most shameful sacrifices to the I LOSE A PEEEAGE 241 money-lenders, by pawning part of Lady Lyndon's diamonds (that graceless little Rosemont wheedled me out of some of them), and by a thousand other schemes for raising money. But when Honour is in the case, was I ever found backward at her call ? and what man can say that Barry Lyndon lost a bet which he did not pay 1 As for my ambitious hopes regarding the Irish peerage, I began, on my return, to find out that I had been led wildly astray by that rascal Lord Crabs ; who liked to take my money, but had no more influence to get me a coronet than to procure for me the Pope's tiara. The Sovereign was not a whit more gracious to me on returning from the Continent than he had been before my departure ; and I had it from one of the aides-de-camp of the Royal Dukes his brothers, that my conduct and amusements at Paris had been odiously misrepresented by some spies there, and had formed the subject of Royal comment ; and that the King had, influenced by these calumnies, actually said I was the most disreputable man in the three kingdoms. I disreputable ! I a dishonour to my name and country ! When I heard these falsehoods, I was in such a rage that I went off to Lord North at once to remonstrate with the Minister ; to insist upon being allowed to appear before His Majesty and clear myself of the imputations against me, to point out my services to the Government ia voting with them, and to ask when the reward that had been promised to me, viz., the title held by my ancestors, was again to be revived in my person. There was a sleepy coolness in that fat Lord North which was the most provoking thing that the Opposition had ever to encounter from him. He heard me with half-shut eyes. When I had finished a long violent speech — which I made striding about his room in Downing Street, and gesticulating with all the energy of an Irish- man — he opened one eye, smiled, and asked me gently if I had done. On my replying in the affirmative, he said, " Well, Mr. Barry, I'll answer you, point by point. The King is exceedingly averse to make peers, as you know. Your claims, as you call them, have been laid before him, and His Majesty's gracious reply was, that you were the most impudent man in his dominions, and merited a halter rather than a coronet. As for withdrawing your support from us, you are perfectly welcome to carry yourself and your vote whithersoever you please. And now, as I have a great deal of occu- pation, perhaps you will do me the favour to retire." So saying, he raised his hand lazily to the bell, and bowed me out ; asking blandly if there was any other thing in the world in which he could oblige me. I went home in a fury which can't be described ; and having Lord Crabs to dinner that day, assailed his Lordship by pulling his wig off' his head, and smothering it in his face, and by attacking 242 THE MEMOIKS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. him in that part of the person where, according to report, he had been formerly assaulted by Majesty. The whole story was over the town the next day, and pictures of me were hanging in the clubs and print-shops, performing the operation alluded to. All the town laughed at the picture of the lord and the Irishman, and, I need not say, recognised both. As for me, I was one of the most celebrated char- acters in London in those days : my dress, style, and eqmpage being as well known as those of any leader of the fashion ; and my popularity, if not great in the highest quarters, was at least considerable else- where. The people cheered me in the Gordon rows, at the time they nearly killed my friend Jemmy Twitcher and burned Lord Mansfield's house down. Indeed, I was known as a stanch Protestant, and after my quarrel with Lord North veered right round to the Opposi- tion, and vexed him with all the means in my power. These were not, unluckily, very great, for I was a bad speaker, and the House would not listen to me, and presently, in 1780, after the Gordon disturbance, was dissolved, when a general election took place. It came on me, as all my mishaps were in the habit of coming, at a most unlucky time. I was obliged to raise more money, at most ruinous rates, to face the confounded election, and had the Tiptoffs against me in the field more active and virulent than ever. My blood boils even now when I think of the rascally conduct of my enemies in that scoundrelly election. I was held up as the Irish Bluebeard, and libels of me were printed, and gross caricatures drawn representing me flogging Lady Lyndon, whipping Lord Bulling- don, turning him out of doors in a storm, and I know not what. There were pictures of a pauper cabin in Ireland, from which it was pretended I came ; others in which I was represented as a lacquey and shoeblack. A flood of calumny was let loose upon me, in which any man of less spirit would have gone down. But though I met my accusers boldly, though I lavished sums of iLioney in the election, though I flung open Hackton Hall, and kept champagne and burgundy running there, and at all my inns in the town, as commonly as water, the election went against me. The rascally gentry had all turned upon me and joined the Tiptoff faction : it was even represented that I held my wife by force ; and tliough I sent her into the town alone, wearing my colours, with Bryan in her lap, and made her visit the mayor's lady and the chief women there, nothing would persuade the people but that she lived in fear and trembling of me ; and the brutal mob had the insolence to ask her why she dared to go back, and how she liked horsewhip for supper. I was thrown out of my election, and all the bills came down upon me together — all the bills I had been contracting during the years of my marriage, which the creditors, with a rascally unanimity. I EETIRE TO CASTLE LYNDON 243 sent in until they lay upon my table in heaps. I won't cite their amount : it was frightful. My stewards and lawyers made matters worse. I was bound up in an inextricable toil of bills and debts, of mortgages and insurances, and all the horrible evils attendant upon them. Lawyers upon lawyers posted down from London : composition after composition was made, and Lady Lyndon's income hampered almost irretrievably to satisfy these cormorants. To do her justice, she behaved with tolerable kindness at this season of trouble; for whenever I wanted money I had to coax her, and whenever I coaxed her I was sure of bringing this weak and light- minded woman to good humour : who was of such a weak terrified nature, that to secure an easy week with me she would sign away a thousand a year. And when my troubles began at Hackton, and I determined on the only chance left, viz., to retire to Ireland and retrench, assigning over the best part of my income to the creditors until .their demands were met, my Lady was quite cheerful at the idea of going, and said, if we would be quiet, she had no doubt all would be well ; indeed, was glad to undergo the comparative poverty in which we must now live for the sake of the retirement and the chance of domestic quiet which she hoped to enjoy. We went oflF to Bristol pretty suddenly, leaving the odious and ungrateful wretches at Hackton to vilify us, no doubt, in our absence. My stud and hounds were sold off immediately ; the harpies would have been glad to pounce upon my person, but that was out of their power. I had raised, by cleverness and management, to the full as much on my mines and private estates as they were worth ; so the scoundrels were disappointed in this instance ; and as for the plate and property in the London house, they coiild not touch that, as it was the property of the heirs of the house of Lyndon. I passed over to Ireland, then, and took up my abode at Castle Lyndon for a while ; all the world imagining that I was an utterly ruined man, and that the famous and dashing Barry Lyndon would never again appear in the circles of which he had been an ornament. But it was not so. In the midst of my perplexities. Fortune reserved a great consolation for me still. Despatches came home from America announcing Lord Comwallis's defeat of General Gates in Carolina, and the death of Lord BulKngdon, who was present as a volunteer. For my own desires to possess a paltry Irish title I cared little. My son was now heir to an English earldom, and I made him assume forthwith the title of Lord Viscount Castle Lyndon, the third of the family titles. My mother went almost mad with joy at saluting her grandson as "my Lord," and I felt that all my sufferings and privations were repaid by seeing this darling child advanced to such a post of honour. CHAPTER XIX CONCLUSION IF the world were not composed of a race of ungrateful scoundrels, who share your prosperity while it lasts, and, even when gorged with your venison and burgundy, abuse the generous giver of the feast, I am sure I merit a good name and a high reputation : in Ireland, at least, where my generosity was unbounded, and the splendour of my mansion and entertainments unequalled by any other nobleman of my time. As long as my magnificence lasted, all the country was free to partake of it ; I had hunters sufficient in my stables to mount a regiment of dragoons, and butts of wine in my cellar which would have made whole counties drunk for years. Oastle Lyndon became the headquarters of scores of needy gentlemen, and I never rode a-hunting but I had a dozen young fellows of the best blood of the country riding as my squires and gentlemen of the horse. My son, little Castle Lyndon, was a prince ; his breeding and manners, even at his early age, showed him to be worthy of the two noble families from whom he was descended : I don't know what high hopes I liad for the boy, and indulged in a thousand fond anticipations as to his futiu-e success and figure in the world. But stem Fate had determined that I should leave none of my race behind me, and ordained that I should finish my career, as I see it closing now — poor, lonely, and child- less. I may have had my faults ; but no man shall dare to say of me that I was not a good and tender father. I loved that boy passionately ; perhaps with a blind partiality : I denied him nothing. Gladly, gladly, I swear, would I have died that his premature doom might have been averted. I think there is not a day since I lost him but his bright face and T)eautiful smiles look down on me out of heaven, where he is, and that my heart does not yearn towards him. That sweet child was taken from me at the age of nine years, when he was full of beauty and promise ; and so power- ful is the hold his memory has of me that I have never been able to forget him : his little spirit haunts me of nights on my restless solitary pillow ; many a time, in the wildest and maddest company, as the bottle is going round, and the song and laugh roaring about, THE HACKTON TIMBER 245 I am thinking of him. I have got a look of his soft brown hair hanging round my breast now : it will accompany me to the dis- honoured pauper's grave; where soon, no doubt, Barry Lyndon's worn-out old bones will be laid. My Bryan was a boy of amazing high spirit (indeed how, coming from such a stock, could he be otherwise ?), impatient even of my control, against which the dear Httle rogue would often rebel gal- lantly ; how much more, then, of his mother's and the women's, whose attempts to direct him he would laugh to scorn. Even my own mother (" Mrs. Barry of Lyndon " the good soul now called herself, in compliment to my new family) was quite unable to check him ; and hence you may fancy what a will he had of his own. If it had not been for that, he might have lived to this day: he might — but why repine? Is he not in a better place? would the heritage of a beggar do any service to him ? It is best as it is — Heaven be good to us ! — Alas ! that I, his father, should be left to deplore him. It was in the month of October I had been to Dublin, in order to see a lawyer and a moneyed man who had come over to Ireland to consult with me about some sales of mine and the cut of Hackton timber ; of which as I hated the place and was greatly in want of money, I was determined to cut down every stick. There had been some diflBculty in the matter. It was said I had no right to touch the timber. The brute peasantry aboi't the estate had been roused to such a pitch of hatred against me, that the rascals actually refused to lay an axe to the trees ; and my agent (that scoundrel Larkins) declared that his life was in danger among them if he attempted any further despoilment (as they called it) of the pro- perty. Every article of the splendid furniture was sold by this time, as I need not say ; and, as for the plate, I had taken good care to bring it off to Ireland, where it now was in the best of keeping — my banker's, who had advanced six thousand pounds on it : which sum I soon had occasion for. I went to Dubhn, then, to meet the English man of business ; and so far succeeded in persuading Mr. Splint, a great shipbuilder and timber-dealer of Plymouth, of my claim to the Hackton timber, that he agreed to purchase it off-hand at about one-third of its value, and handed me over five thousand pounds : which, being pressed with debts at the time, I was fain to accept. He had no difficulty in getting down the wood, I warrant. He took a regiment of shipwrights and sawyers from his own and the King's yards at Plymouth, and in two months Hackton Park was as bare of trees as the Bog of Allen. I had but ill luck with that accursed expedition and money. 246 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. I lost the greater part of it in two nights' play at " Daly's," so that my debts stood just as they were before; and before the Tessel sailed for Holyhead, which carried away my old sharper of a timber-merchant, all that I had left of the money he brought me was a couple of hundred pounds, with which I returned home very disconsolately : and very suddenly, too, for my Dublin trades- men were hot upon me, hearing I had spent the loan, and two of my wine-merchants had writs out against me for some thousands of pounds. I bought in Dublin, according to my promise, however — for when I give a promise I will keep it at any sacrifices — a little horse for my dear little Bryan ; which was to be a present for his tenth birthday, that was now coming on : it was a beautiful little animal and stood me in a good sum. I never regarded money for that dear child. But the horse was very wild. He kicked off one of my horse boys, who rode him at first, and broke the lad's leg ; and, though I took the animal in hand on the journey home, it was only my weight and skill that made the brute quiet. When we got home I sent the horse away with one of my grooms to a farmer's house, to break him thoroughly in, and told Bryan, who was all anxiety to see his little horse, that he would arrive by his birthday, when he should hunt him along with my hounds ; and I promised myself no small pleasure in presenting the dear fellow to the field that day : which I hoped to see him lead some time or other in place of his fond father. Ah me ! never was that gallant boy to ride a fox-chase, or to take the place amongst the gentry of his country which his birth and genius had pointed out for him ! Though I don't believe in dreams and omens, yet I can't but own that when a great calamity is hanging over a man, he has frequently many strange and awful forebodings of it. I fancy now I had many. Lady Lyndon, especially, twice dreamed of her son's death ; but, as she was now grown uncommonly nervous and vapourish, I treated her fears with scorn, and my own, of course, too. And in an unguarded moment, over the bottle after dinner, I told poor Bryan, who was always questioning me about the little horse, and when it was to come, that it was arrived ; that it was in Doolan's farm, where Mick the groom was breaking him in. "Promise me, Bryan," screamed his mother, "that you will not ride the horse except in company of your father." But I only said, " Pooh, madam, you are an ass ! " being angry at her silly timidity, which was always showing itself in a thousand disagree- able ways now ; and, turning round to Bryan, said, " I promise your Lordship a good flogging if you mount him without my leave." I LOSE MY LAST HOPE IN LIEE 247 I suppose the poor child did not care about paying this penalty for the pleasure he was to have, or possibly thought a fond father would remit the punishment altogether : for the next morning, when I rose rather late, having sat up drinking the night before, I found the child had been off at daybreak, having slipt through his tutor's room (this was Eedmond Quin, our cousin, whom I had taken to live with me), and I had no doubt but that he was gone to Doolan's farm. I took a great horsewhip and galloped off after him in a rage, swearing I would keep my promise. But, Heaven forgive me ! I little thought of it when at three miles from home I met a sad procession coming towards me : peasants moaning and howling as our Irish do, the black horse led by the hand, and, on a door that some of the folk carried, my poor dear, dear little boy. There he lay in his little boots and spurs, and his little coat of scarlet and gold. His dear face was quite white, and he smiled as he held a hand out to me, and said painfuUy, " You won't whip me, will you, papa 1 " I could only burst out into tears in reply. I have seen many and many a man dying, and there's a look about the eyes which you cannot mistake. There was a little drummer-boy I was fond of, who was hit down before my company at Kiihnersdorf; when I ran up to give him some water, he looked exactly like my dear Bryan then did — there's no mistaking that awful look of the eyes. We carried him home and scoured the country round for doctors to come and look at his hurt. But what does a doctor avail in a contest with the grim invin- cible enemy? Such as came could only confirm our despair by their account of the poor child's case. He had mounted his horse gallantly, sat him bravely all the time the animal plunged and kicked, and, having overcome his first spite, ran him at a hedge by the roadside. But there were loose stones at the top, and the horse's foot caught among them, and he and his brave little rider rolled over together at the other side. The people said they saw the noble little boy spring up after his fall and run to catch the horse ; which had broken away from him, kicking him on the back, as it would seem, as they lay on the ground. Poor Bryan ran a few yards and then dropped down as if shot. A pallor came over his face, and they thought he was dead. But they poured whisky down his mouth, and the poor child revived : still he could not move ; his spine was injured : the lower half of him was dead when they laid him in bed at home. The rest did not last long, God help me ! He remained yet for two days with us ; and a sad comfort it was to think he was in no pain. During this time the dear angel's temper seemed quite to change : 248 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. he asked his mother and me pardon for any act of disobedience he had been guilty of towards us ; he said often he should like to see his brother. Bullingdon. "Bully was better than you, papa," he said ; "he used not to swear so, and he told and taught me many good things while you were away." And, taking a hand of his mother and mine in each of his little clammy ones, he begged us not to quarrel so, but love each other, so that we might meet again in heaven, where Bully told him quarrelsome people never went. His mother was very much affected by these admonitions from the poor suffering angel's mouth ; and I was so too. I wish she had enabled me to keep the counsel which the dying boy gave us. At last, after two days, he died. There he lay, the hope of my family, the pride of my manhood, the link which had kept me and my Lady Lyndon together. " Oh, Redmond," said she, kneeling by the sweet child's body, "do, do let us listen to the truth out of his blessed mouth ; and do you amend your life, and treat your poor loving fond wife as her dying child ba,de you." And I said I would : but there are promises which it is out of a man's power to keep ; especially with such a woman as her. But we drew together after that sad event, and were for several months better friends. I won't tell you with what splendour we bmied him. Of what avail are undertakers' feathers and heralds' trumpery t I went out and shot the fatal black horse that had killed him, at the door of the vault where we laid my boy. I was so wild, that I could have shot myself too. But for the crime, it would have been better that I should, perhaps; for what has my life been since that sweet flower was taken out of my bosom ? A succession of miseries, wrongs, disasters, and mental and bodily sufferings which never fell to the lot of any other man in Christendom. Lady Lyndon, always vapourish and nervous, after our blessed boy's catastrophe became more agitated than ever, and plunged into devotion with so much fervour, that you would have fancied her almost distracted at times. She imagined she saw visions. She said an angel from heaven had told her that Bryan's death was as a punishment to her for her neglect of her first-born. Then she would declare Bullingdon was alive ; she had seen him in a dream. Then again she would fall into fits of sorrow about his death, and grieve for him as violently as if he had been the last of her sons who had died, and not our darling Bryan ; who, compared to Bullingdon, was what a diamond is to a vulgar stone. Her freaks were painful to witness, and difficult to control. It began to be said in the country that the Countess was going mad. My scoun- drelly enemies did not fail to confirm and magnify the rumour, and I AM BESET WITH ENEMIES 249 would add that I was the cause of her insanity : I had driven her to distraction, I had killed Bullingdon, I had murdered my own son ; I don't know what else they laid to my charge. Even in Ireland their hateful calumnies reached me : my friends fell away from me. They began to desert my hunt, as they did in England, and when I went to race or market found sudden reasons for getting out of my neighbourhood. I got the name of Wicked Barry, Devil Lyndon, which you please : the country-folk used to make marvellous legends about me : the priests said I had massacred I don't know how many German nuns in the Seven Years' War; that the ghost of the murdered Bullingdon haunted my house. Once at a fair in a town hard by, when I had a mind to buy a waistcoat for one of my people, a fellow standing by said, " 'Tis a strait-waistcoat he's buying for my Lady Lyndon." And from this circumstance arose a legend of my cruelty to my wife ; and many circumstantial details were narrated regarding my manner and ingenuity of torturing her. The loss of my dear boy pressed not only on my heart as a father, but injured my individual interests in a very considerable degree ; for as there was now no direct heir to the estate, and Lady Lyndon was of a weak health, and supposed to be quite unlikely to leave a family, the next in succession — that detestable family of Tiptoif — began to exert themselves in a hundred ways to annoy me, and were at the head of the party of enemies who were raising reports to my discredit. They interposed between me and my management of the property in a hundred different ways ; making an outcry if I cut a stick, sunk a shaft, sold a picture, or sent a few ounces of plate to be remodelled. They harassed me with ceaseless lawsuits, got injunctions from Chancery, hampered my agents in the execution of their work ; so much so that you would have fancied my own was not my own, but theirs, to do as they liked with. What is worse, as I have reason to believe, they had tamperings and dealings with my own domestics under my own roof; for I could not have a word with Lady Lyndon but it some- how got abroad, and I could not be drunk with my chaplain and friends but some sanctified rascals would get hold of the news, and reckon up aU the bottles I drank and all the oaths I swore. That these were not few, I acknowledge. I am of the old school ; was always a free liver and speaker ; and, at least, if I did and said what I liked, was not so bad as many a canting scoundrel I know of who covers his foibles and sins, unsuspected, with a mask of holiness. As I am making a clean breast of it, and am no hypocrite, I may as well confess now that I endeavoured to ward off the devices of my enemies by an artifice which was not, perhaps, strictly justifiable. Everything depended on my having an heir to the 250 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. estate ; for if Lady Lyndon, who was of weakly health, had died, the next day I was a beggar : all my sacrifices of money, &c., on the estate would not have heen held in a farthing's account ; all the debts would have been left on my shoulders ; and my enemies would have triumphed over me : which, to a man of my honourable spirit, was " the unkindest cut of all," as some poet says. I confess, then, it was my wish to supplant these scoundrels ; and, as I could not do so without an heir to my property, / deter- mined to find one. If I had him near at hand, and of my own blood too, though with the bar sinister, is not here the question. It was then I found out the rascally machinations of my enemies ; for, having broached this plan to Lady Lyndon, whom I made to be, outwardly at least, the most obedient of vrives, — although I never let a letter from . her or to her go or arrive without my in- spection, — although I allowed her to see none but those persons who I thought, in her delicate health, would be fitting society for her; yet the infernal Tiptofis got wind of my scheme, protested instantly against it, not only by letter, but in the shameful libeUous public prints, and held me up to public odium as a "child-forger," as they called me. Of course I denied the charge — I could do no otherwise, and offered to meet any one of the Tiptoffs on the field of honour, and prove him a scoundrel and a liar, as he was; though, perhaps, not in this instance. But they contented themselves by answering me by a lawyer, and declined an invitation which any man of spirit would have accepted. My hopes of having an heir were thus blighted completely : indeed, Lady Lyndon (though, as I have said, I take her opposition for nothing) had resisted the proposal with as much energy as a woman of her weakness could manifest ; and said she had committed one great crime in conse- quence of me, but would rather die than perform another. I could easily have brought her Ladyship to her senses, however : but my scheme had taken wind, and it was now in vain to attempt it. We might have had a dozen children in honest wedlock, and people would have said they were false. As for raising money on annuities, I may say I had used her life interest up. There were but few of those assurance societies in my time which have since sprung up in the city of London ; under- writers did the business, and my wife's life was as well known among them as, I do believe, that of any woman in Christendom. Latterly, when I wanted to get a sum against her life, the rascals had the impudence to say my treatment of her did not render it worth a year's purchase, — as if my interest lay in killing her ! Had my boy lived, it would have been a different thing ; he and his mother might have cut off' the entail of a good part of the property between them, I FEEL THE NET DRAWING CLOSER 251 and my afifairs have been put in better order. Now they were in a bad condition indeed. All my schemes had turned out failures ; my lands, which I had purchased with borrowed money, made me no return, and I was obliged to pay ruinous interest for the sums with which I had purchased them. My income, though very large, was saddled with hundreds of annuities, and thousands of lawyers' charges; and I felt the net drawing closer and closer round me, and no means to extricate myself from its toils. To add to all my perplexities, two years after my poor child's death, my wife, whose vagaries of temper and wayward follies I had borne with for twelve years, wanted to leave me, and absolutely made attempts at what she called escaping from my tyranny. My mother, who was the only person that, in my misfortunes, remained faithful to me (indeed, she has always spoken of me in my true light, as a martyr to the rascality of others and a victim of my own generous and confiding temper), found out the first scheme that was going on ; and of which those artful and malicious TiptoflFs were, as usual, the main promoters. Mrs. Barry, indeed, though her temper was violent and her ways singular, was an invaluable person to me in my house ; which would have been at rack arid ruin long before, but for her spirit of order and management, and for her excellent economy in the government of my numerous family. As for my Lady Lyndon, she, poor soul ! was much too fine a lady to attend to household matters — passed her days with her doctor, or her books of piety, and never appeared among us except at my compulsion ; when she and my mother would be sure to have a quarrel. Mrs. Barry, on the contrary, had a talent for management in aU matters. She kept the maids stirring, and the footmen to their duty ; had an eye over the claret in the cellar, and the oats and hay in the stable ; saw to the salting and pickling, the potatoes and the turf-stacking, the pig-killing and the poultry, the linen-room and the bakehouse, and the ten thousand minutiae of a great establish- ment. If all Irish housewives were like her, I warrant many a hall- fire would be blazing where the cobwebs only grow now, and many a park covered with sheep and fat cattle where the thistles are at present the chief occupiers. If anything could have saved me from the consequences of villainy in others, and (I confess it, for I am not above owning to ray faults) my own too easy, generous, and careless nature, it would have been the admirable prudence of that worthy creature. She never went to bed until all the house was quiet and all the candles out ; and you may fancy that this was a matter of some difficulty with a man of my habits, who had commonly a dozen of jovial fellows (artful scoundrels and false friends most of them were !) to drink with me every night, and who seldom, for my part, 252 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. went to bed sober. Many and many a night, when I was unconscious of her attention, has that good soul pulled my boots off, and seen me laid by my servants snug in bed, and carried off the candle her- self ; and been the first in the morning, too, to bring me my drink of small-beer. Mine were no milksop times, I can tell you. A gentle- man thought no shame of taking his half-dozen bottles ; and, as for your coffee and slops, they were left to Lady Lyndon, her doctor, and the other old women. It was my mother's pride that I could drink more than any man in the country, — as much, within a pint, as my father before me, she said. That Lady Lyndon should detest her was quite natural. She is not the first of woman or mankind either that has hated a mother- in-law. I set my mother to keep a sharp watch over the freaks of her Ladyship ; and this, you may be sure, was one of the reasons why the latter disliked her. I never minded that, however. Mrs. Barry's assistance and surveillance were invaluable to me ; and, if I had paid twenty spies to watch my Lady, I should not have been half so well served as by the disinterested care and watchfulness of my excellent mother. She slept with the house-keys under her pillow, and had an eye everywhere. She followed all the Countess's movements like a shadow ; she managed to know, from morning to night, everything that my Lady did. If she walked in the garden, a watchful eye was kept on the wicket ; and if she chose to drive out, Mrs. Barry accompanied her, and a couple of fellows in my liveries rode alongside of the carriage to see that she came to no harm. Though she objected, and would have kept her room in sullen silence, I made a point that we should appear together at church in the coach-and-six every Sunday; and that she should attend the race-balls in my company, whenever the coast was clear of the rascally bailiffs who beset me. This gave the lie to any of those maligners who said I wished to make a prisoner of my wife. The fact is, that, knowing her levity, and seeing the insane dislike to me and mine which had now begun to supersede what, perhaps, had been an equally insane fondness for me, I was bound to be on my guard that she should not give me the slip. Had she left me, I was ruined the next day. This (which my mother knew) com- pelled us to keep a tight watch over her ; but as for imprisoning her, I repel the imputation with scorn. Every man imprisons his wife to a certain degree ; the world would be in a pretty condition if women were allowed to quit home and return to it whenever they had a mind. In watching over my wife. Lady Lyndon, I did no more than exercise the legitimate authority which awards honour and obedience to every husband. Such, however, is female artifice, that, in spite of all my watch- LADY LYNDON PLOTS AGAINST ME 253 fulness in guarding her, it is probable my Lady would have given me the slip, had I not had quite as acute a person as herself as my ally : for, as the proverb says that " the best way to catch one thief is to set another after him," so the best way to get the better of a woman is to engage one of her own artful sex to guard her. One would ha-ve thought that, followed as she was, all her letters read, and all her acquaintances strictly watched by me, living in a remote part of Ireland away from her family, Lady Lyndon could have had no chance of communicating with her allies, or of making her wrongs, as she was pleased to call them, public ; and yet, for a while, she carried on a correspondence under my very nose, and acutely organised a conspiracy for flying from me : as shall be told. She always had an inordinate passion for dress, and, as she was never thwarted in any whimsey she had of this kind (for I spared no money to gratify her, and among my debts are milliners' bills to the amount of many thousands), boxes used to pass continually to and fro from Dublin, with all sorts of dresses, caps, flounces, and furbelows, as her fancy dictated. With these would come letters from her milliner, in answer to numerous similar injunctions from my Lady ; all of which passed through my hands, without the least suspicion, for some time. And yet in these very papers, by the easy means of sympathetic ink, were contained all her Ladyship's correspondence ; and Heaven knows (for it was some time, as I have said, before I discovered the trick) what charges against me. But clever Mrs. Barry found out that always before my lady- wife chose to write letters to her milliner, she had need of lemons to make her drink, as she said ; this fact, being mentioned to me, set me a-thinking, and so I tried one of the letters before the fire, and the whole scheme of villainy was brought to light. I will give a specimen of one of the horrid artful letters of this unhappy woman. In a great hand, with wide lines, were written a set of directions to her mantua-maker, setting forth the articles of dress for which my Lady had need, the peculiarity of their make, the stufis she selected, &c. She would make out long lists in this way, writing each article in a separate line, so as to have more space for detailing all my cruelties and her tremendous wrongs. Between these lines she kept the journal of her captivity : it would have made the fortune of a romance-writer in those days but to have got a copy of it, and to have published it under the title of " The Lovely Prisoner, or the Savage Husband," or by some name equally taking and absurd. The journal would be as follows : — " Movdwij. — Yesterday I was made to go to church. My odious, monstrous, vulgar she-dragon of a mother-in-law, in a 254 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. yellow satin and red ribands, taking the first place in the coach ; Mr. L. riding by its side, on the horse he never paid for to Captain Hurdlestone. The wicked hypocrite led me to the pew, with hat in hand and a smiling countenance, and kissed my hand as I entered the coach after service, and patted my Italian greyhound — all that the few people collected might see. He made me come downstairs in the evening to make tea for his company ; of whom three-fourths, he himself included, were, as usual, drunk. They painted the parson's face black, when his reverence had arrived at his seventh bottle ; and at his usual insensible stage, they tied him on the grey mare with his face to the tail. The she-dragon read the 'Whole Duty of Man' all the evening till bedtime; when she saw me to my apartments, locked me in, and proceeded to wait upon her abominable son : whom she adores for his wickedness, I should think, as Sty cor ax did Caliban." You should have seen my mother's fury as I read her out this passage ! Indeed, I have always had a taste for a joke (that practised on the parson, as described above, is, I confess, a true bill), and used carefully to select for Mrs. Barry's hearing all the compliments that Lady Lyndon passed upon her. The dragon was the name by which she was known in this precious correspondence : or sometimes she was designated by the title of the "Irish Witch." As for me, I was denominated "my gaoler," "my tyrant," "the dark spirit which has obtained the mastery over my being," and so on ; in terms always complimentary to my power, however little they might be so to my amiability. Here is another extract from her " Prison Diary," by which it will be seen that my Lady, although she pretended to be so indifferent to my goings on, had a sharp woman's eye, and could be as jealous as another : — " Wednesday. — This day two years my last hope and pleasure in life was taken from me, and my dear child was called to heaven. Has he joined his neglected brother there, whom I suffered to grow up unheeded by my side ; and whom the tyranny of the monster to whom I am united drove to exile, and perhaps to death? Or is the child alive, as my fond heart sometimes deems? Charles Bullingdon ! come to the aid of a wretched mother, who acknow- ledges her crimes, her coldness towards thee, and now bitterly pays for her error ! But no, he cannot live ! I am distracted ! My only hope is in you, my cousin — you whom I had once thought to salute by a still fonder title, my dear George Poynings ! Oh, be my knight and my preserver, the true chivabic being thou ever LADY LYNDON'S SECEET JOURNAL 255 ■wert, and rescue me from the thrall of the felon caitiff who holds me captive — rescue me from him, and from Stycorax, the vile Irish witch, his mother ! " (Here follow some verses, such as her Ladyship was in the habit of composing by reams, in which she compares herself to Sabra, in the " Seven Champions," and beseeches her George to rescue her from the dragon, meaning Mrs. Barry. I omit the lines, and proceed) ; — "Even my poor child, who perished untimely on this sad anniversary, the tyrant who governs me had taught to despise and dislike me. 'Twas in disobedience to my orders, my prayers, that he went on the fatal journey. What sufferings, what humiliations have I had to endure since then ! I am a prisoner in my own halls. I should fear poison, but that I know the wretch has a sordid interest in keeping me alive, and that my death would be the signal for his ruin. But I dare not stir without my odious, hideous, vulgar gaoler, the horrid Irishwoman, who pursues my every step. I am locked into my chamber at night, like a felon, and only suffered to leave it when ordered into the presence of my lord (/ ordered !), to be present at his orgies with his boon com- panions, and to hear his odious converse as he lapses into the disgusting madness of intoxication ! He has given up even the semblance of constancy — he, who swore that I alone could attach or charm him ! And now he brings his vulgar mistresses before my very eyes, and would have had me acknowledge, as heir to my own property, his child by another ! " No, I never wiU submit ! Thou, and thou only, my George, my early friend, shalt be heir to the estates of Lyndon. Why did not Fate join me to thee, instead of to the odious man who holds me under his sway, and make the poor Calista happy ! " So the letters would run on for sheets upon sheets, in the closest cramped handwriting ; and I leave any unprejudiced reader to say whether the writer of such documents must not have been as silly and vain a creature as ever lived, and whether she did not want being taken care of? I could copy out yards of rhapsody to Lord George Poynings, her old flame, in which she addressed him by the most affectionate names, and implored him to find a refuge for her against her oppressors ; but they would fatigue the reader to peruse, as they would me to copy. The fact is, that this unlucky lady had the knack of writing a great deal more than she meant. She was always reading novels and trash ; putting herself 256 THE MEMOIRS OP BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. into imaginary characters, and flying off into heroics and sentimen- talities with as little heart as any woman I ever knew ; yet showing the most violent disposition to be in love. She wrote always as if she was in a flame of passion. I have an elegy on her lapdog, the most tender and pathetic piece she ever wrote; and most tender notes of remonstrance to Betty, her favourite maid ; to her housekeeper, on quarrelling with her ; to half-a-dozen acquaintances, each of whom she addressed as the dearest friend in the world, and forgot the very moment she took up another fancy. As for her love for her children, the above passage will show how much she was capable of true maternal feeling : the verj' sentence in which she records the death of one child serves to betray her egotisms, and to wreak her spleen against myself; and she only wishes to recall another from the grave, in order that he may be of some personal advantage to her. If I did deal severely mth this woman, keeping her from her flatterers who would have bred discord between us, and locking her up out of mischief, who shall say that I was wrong? If any woman deserved a strait- waistcoat, it was my Lady Lyndon ; and I have known people in my time manacled, and with their heads shaved, in the straw, who had not committed half the follies of that foolish, vain, infatuated creature. My mother was so enraged by the charges against me and herself which these letters contained, that it was with the utmost diflBiculty I could, keep her from discovering our knowledge of them to Lady Lyndon ; whom it was, of course, my object to keep in ignorance of oiu' knowledge of her designs : for I was anxious to know how far they went, and to what pitch of artifice she would go. The letters increased in interest (as they say of the novels) as they proceeded. Pictures were drawn of my treatment of her which would make your heart throb. I don't know of what monstrosities she did not accuse me, and what miseries and starva- tion she did not profess herself to undergo ; all the while she was living exceedingly fat and contented, to outward appearances, at our house at Castle Lyndon. Novel-reading and vanity had turned her brain. I could not say a rough word to her (and she merited many thousands a day, I can tell you), but she declared I was putting her to the torture ; and my mother could not remonstrate with her but she went off into a fit of hysterics, of which she would declare the worthy old lady was the cause. At last she began to threaten to kill herself; and though I by no means kept the cutlery out of the way, did not stint her in garters, and left her doctor's shop at her entire service, — knowing her character full well, and that there was no woman in Christendom less likely to lay hands on her precious life than herself; yet these I AM THEEATENED WITH A DIVORCE 257 threats had an effect, evidently, in tlie quarter to which they were addressed ; for the milliner's packets now began to arrive with great frequency, and the bills sent to her contained assurances of coming aid. The chivalrous Lord George Poynings was coming to his cousin's rescue, and did me the compliment to say that he hoped to free his dear cousin from the clutches of the most atrocious villain that ever disgraced humanity ; and that, when she was free, measures should be taken for a divorce, on the ground of cruelty and every species of ill-usage on my part. I had copies of aU these precious documents on one side and the other carefully made, by my before-mentioned relative, godson, and secretary, Mr. Redmond Quin, at present the worthy agent of the Castle Lyndon property. This was a son of my old flame Nora, whom I had taken from her in a fit of generosity ; promising to care for his education at Trinity College, and provide for him through life. But after the lad had been for a year at the University, the tutors would not admit him to commons or lectures untU his college bills were paid ; and, offended by this insolent manner of demanding the paltry sum due, I withdrew my patronage from the place, and ordered my gentleman to Castle Lyndon ; where I made him useful to me in a hundred ways. In my dear little boy's lifetime, he tutored the poor child as far as his high spirit would let him ; but I promise you it was small trouble poor dear Bryan ever gave the books. Then he kept Mrs. Barry's accounts ; copied my own inter- minable correspondence with my lawyers and the agents of all my various property ; took a hand at piquet or backgammon of evenings with me and my mother ; or, being an ingenious lad enough (though of a mean boorish spirit, as became the son of such a father), accom- panied my Lady Lyndon's spinet with his flageolet ; or read French and Italian with her : in both of which languages her Ladyship was a fine scholar, and with which he also became conversant. It would make my watchfid old mother very angry to hear them conversing in these languages ; for not understanding a word of either of them, Mrs. Barry was furious when they were spoken, and always said it was some scheming they were after. It was Lady Lyndon's con- stant way of annoying the old lady, when the three were alone together, to address Quin in one or other of these tongues. I was perfectly at ease with regard to his fidelity, for I had bred the lad, and loaded him with benefits ; and, besides, had had various proofs of his trustworthiness. He it was who brought me three of Lord George's letters, in reply to some of my Lady's com- plaints ; which were concealed between the leather and the boards of a book which was sent from the circulating library for her Lady- ship's perusal. He and my Lady too had frequent quarrels. She 4 E 258 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. mimicked his gait in her pleasanter moments ; in her haughty moods, she would not sit down to table with a tailor's grandson. " Send me anything for company but that odious Quin," she would say, when I proposed that he should go and amuse her with his books and his flute ; for, quarrelsome as we were, it must not be supposed we were always at it : I was occasionally attentive to her. We would be friends for a month together, sometimes ; then we would quarrel for a fortnight ; then she would keep her apartments for a month : all of which domestic circumstances were noted down, in her Ladyship's peculiar way, in her journal of captivity, as she called it ; and a pretty document it is ! Sometimes she writes, "My monster has been almost kind to-day," or, "My ruffian has deigned to smile." Then she will break out into expressions of savage hate ; but for my poor mother it was always hatred. It was, "The she-dragon is sick to-day; I wish to Heaven she would die ! " or, " The hideous old Irish basketwoman has been treating me to some of her Billingsgate to-day," and so forth : all which expressions, read to Mrs. Barry, or translated from the French and Italian, in which many of them were written, did not fail to keep the old lady in a perpetual fury against her charge : and so I had my watch-dog, as I called her, always on the alert. In translating these languages, young Quin was of great service to me ; for I had a smattering of French — and High Dutch, when I was in the army, of course I knew well — but Itahan I knew nothing of, and was glad of the services of so faitliful and cheap an interpreter. This cheap and faithful interpreter, this godson and kinsman, on whom and whose family I had piled up benefits, was actually trying to betray me ; and for several months, at least, was in league with the enemy against me. I believe that the reason why they did not move earlier was the want of the great mover of aU treasons—^ money : of which, in all parts of my establishment, there was a woeful scarcity ; but of this they also managed to get a supply through my rascal of a godson, who could come and go quite un- suspected : the whole scheme was arranged under our very noses, and the post-chaise ordered, and the means of escape actually got ready ; whUe I never suspected their design. A mere accident made me acquainted with their plan. One of my colliers had a pretty daughter; and this pretty lass had for her bachelor, as they call them in Ireland, a certain lad, who brought the letter-bag for Castle Lyndon (and many a dunning letter for me was there in it, God wot !) : this letter-boy told his sweetheart how he brought a bag of money from the town for Master Quin ; and how that Tim the post-boy had told him that he was to bring a chaise down to the water at a certain hour. MY NEPHEW PLOTS AGAINST ME 259 Miss Kooney, who had no Secrets from me, blurted out the whole story ; asked me what scheming I was after, and what poor un- lucky girl I was going to carry away with the chaise I had ordered, and bribe with the money I had got from town 1 Then the whole secret ilashed upon me, that the man I had cherished in my bosom was going to betray me. I thought at one time of catching the couple in the act of escape, half drowning them in the ferry which they had to cross to get to their chaise, and of pistolling the young traitor before Lady Lyndon's eyes ; but, on second thoughts, it was quite clear that the news of the escape would make a noise through the country, and rouse the confounded justice's people about my ears, and bring me no good in the end. So I was obliged to smother my just indignation, and to content myself by crushing the foul conspiracy, just at the moment it was about to be hatched. I went home, and in half-an-hour, and with a few of my terrible looks, I had Lady Lyndon on her knees, begging me to forgive her; confessing all and everything; ready to vow and swear she would never make such an attempt again ; and declaring that she was fifty times on the point of owning everything to me, but that she feared my wrath against the poor young lad her accomplice : who was indeed the author and inventor of all the mischief This — though I knew how entirely false the statement was — I was fain to pretend to believe ; so I begged her to write to her cousin, Lord George, who had supplied her with money, as she admitted, and with whom the plan had been arranged, stating, briefly, that she had altered her mind as to the trip to the country proposed ; and that, as her dear husband was rather in delicate health, she preferred to stay at home and nurse him. I added a dry postscript, in which I stated that it would give me great pleasure if his Lord- ship would come and visit us at Castle Lyndon ; and that I longed to renew an acquaintance which in former times gave me so much satisfaction. " I should seek him out," I added, " so soon as ever I was in his neighbourhood, and eagerly anticipated the pleasure of a meeting with him." I think he must have understood my meaning perfectly well ; which was, that I would run him through the body on the very first occasion I could come at him. Then I had a scene with my perfidious rascal of a nephew ; in which the young reprobate showed an audacity and a spirit for which I was quite unprepared. When I taxed him with in- gratitude, " What do I owe you t " said he. " I have toiled for you as no man ever did for another, and worked without a penny of wages. It was you yourself who set me against you, by giving me a task against which my soul revolted, — by making me a spy 260 THE MEMOIRS OP BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. over your unfortunate wife, whose weakness is as pitiable as are her misfortunes and your rascally treatment of her. Flesh and blood could not bear to see the manner in which you used her. I tried to help her to escape from you ; and I would do it again, if the opportunity offered, and so I tell you to your teeth ! " When I offered to blow his brains out for his insolence, " Pooh ! " said he, — "kill the man who saved your poor boy's life once, and who was endeavouring to keep him out of the ruin and perdition into which a wicked father was leading him, when a Merciful Power interposed, and withdrew him from this house of crime ? I would have left you months ago, but I hoped for some chance of rescuing this unhappy lady. I swore I would try, the day I saw you strike her. Kill me, you woman's bully ! You would if you dared ; but you have not the heart. Your very servants like me better than you. Touch me, and they will rise and send you to the gallows you merit ! " I interrupted this neat speech by sending a water-bottle at the young gentleman's head, which felled him to the ground ; and then I went to meditate upon what he had said to me. It was true the fellow had saved poor little Bryan's life, and the boy to his dying day was tenderly attached to him. " Be good to Redmond, papa," were almost the last words he spoke ; and I promised the poor child, on his deathbed, that I would do as he asked. It was also true, that rough usage of him would be little liked by my people, with whom he had managed to become a great favourite : for, some- how, though I got drunk with the rascals often, and was much more familiar with them than a man of my rank commonly is, yet I knew I was by no means liked by them ; and the scoundrels were mur- muring against me perpetually. But I might have spared myself tlie trouble of debating what his fate should be, for the young gentleman took the disposal of it out of my hands in the simplest way in the world : viz., by washing and binding up his head so soon as he came to himself : by taking his horse from the stables ; and, as he was quite free to go in and out of the house and park as he liked, he disappeared without the least let or hindrance ; and leaving the horse behind him at the ferry, went off in the very post-chaise which was waiting for Lady Lyndon. I saw and heard no more of him for a considerable time ; and now that he was out of the house, did not consider him a very troublesorae enemy. But the cunning artifice of woman is such that, I think, in the long run, no man, were he Machiavel himself, could escape from it • and though I had ample proofs in the above transaction (in which LADY LYNDON'S DISSIMULATION 261 my -wife's perfidious designs were frustrated by my foresight), and under her own handwriting, of the deceitfulness of her character and her hatred for me, yet she actually managed to deceive me, in spite of all my precautions and the vigilance of my mother in my behalf Had I followed that good lady's advice, who scented the danger from afar off, as it were, I should never have fallen into the snare prepared for me ; and which was laid in a way that was as successful as it was simple. My Lady Lyndon's relation with me was a singular one. Her life was passed in a crack-brained sort of alternation between love and hatred for me. If I was in a good humour with her (as occurred sometimes) there was nothing she would not do to propitiate me further ; and she would be as absurd and violent in her expressions of fondness as, at other moments, she would be in her demonstrations of hatred. It is not your feeble easy husbands who are loved best in the world ; according to my experience of it. I do think the women like a little violence of temper, and think no worse of a husband who exercises his authority pretty smartly. I had got my Lady into such a terror about me, that when I smiled it was quite an era of happiness to her ; and if I beckoned to her, she would come fawning up to me like a dog. I recollect how, for the few days I was at school, the cowardly mean-spirited fellows would laugh if ever our schoolmaster made a joke. It was the same in the regiment whenever the bully of a sergeant was disposed to be jocular — not a recruit but was on the broad grin. Well, a wise and determined husband will get his wife into this condition of discipline; and I brought my high-born wife to kiss my hand, to pull off my boots, to fetch and carry for me like a servant, and always to make it a holiday, too, when I was in good humotir. I confided perhaps too much in the duration of this disciplined obedience, and forgot that the very hypocrisy which forms a part of it (all timid people are liars in their hearts) may be exerted in a way that may be far from agreeable, in order to deceive you. After the ill-success of her last adventure, which gave me endless opportunities to banter her, one would have thought I might have been on my guard as to what her real intentions were ; but she managed to mislead me with an art of dissimulation quite admirable, and lulled me into a fatal security with regard to her intentions : for, one day, as I was joking her, and asking her whether she would take the water again, whether she had found another lover, and so forth, she suddenly burst into tears, and, seizing hold of my hand, cried passionately out — "Ah, Barry, you know well enough that I have never loved but you ! Was I ever so wretched that a kind word from you 262 THE MEMOIRS OF BAREY LYNDON, ESQ. did not make me happy? ever so angry, but the least offer of goodwill on your part did not bring me to your side? Did I not give a sufficient proof of my affection for you, in bestowing one of the first fortunes in England upon you? Have I repined or rebuked you for the way you have wasted it? No, I loved you too much and too fondly : I have always loved you. From the first moment I saw you, I felt irresistibly attracted towards you. I saw your bad qualities, and trembled at your violence ; but I could not help loving you. I married you, though I knew I was sealing my own fate in doing so ; and in spite of reason and duty. What sacrifice do you want from me ? I am ready to make any, so you wiU but love me ; or, if not, that at least you will gently use me." I was in a particularly good humour that day, and we had a sort of reconciliation : though my mother, when she heard the speech, and saw me softening towards her Ladyship, warned me solemnly, and said, "Depend on it, the artful hussy has some other scheme in her head now." The old lady was right ; and I swallowed the bait which her Ladyship had prepared to entrap me as simply as any gudgeon takes a hook. I had been trying to negotiate with a man for some money, for which I had pressing occasion ; but since our dispute regarding the affair of the succession, my Lady had resolutely refused to sign any papers for my advantage : and without her name, I am sorry to say, my own was of little value in the market, and I could not get a guinea from any money-dealer in London or Dublin. Nor could I get the rascals from the latter place to visit me at Castle Lyndon : owing to that unlucky afiair I had with Lawyer Sharp when I made him lend me the money he brought down, and old Salmon the Jew being robbed of the bond I gave him after leaving my house,* the people would not trust themselves within my walls any more. Our rents, too, were in the hands of receivers by this time, and it was as much as I could do to get enough money from the rascals to pay my wine-merchants their bills. Our English property, as I have said, was equally hampered ; and, as often as I applied to my lawj^ers and agents for money, would come a reply demanding money of me, for debts and pretended claims which the rapacious rascals said they had on me. It was, then, with some feelings of pleasure that I got a letter from my confidential irian in Gray's Inn, London, saying (in reply to some ninety-ninth demand of mine) that he thought * These exploits of Mr. Lyndon are not related in the narrative. He probably, in the cases above alluded to, took the law into his own bands. I NEGOTIATE ANOTHER LOAN 263 he could get me some money ; and enclosing a letter from a respectable firm in the city of London, connected with the mining interest, which offered to redeem the encumbrance in taking a long lease of certain property of ours, which was still pretty free, upon the Countess's signature ; and provided they could be assured of her free will in giving it. They said they heard she lived in terror of her life from me, and meditated a separation, in which case she might repudiate any deeds signed by her while in durance, and subject them, at any rate, to a doubtfid and expensive litiga- tion ; and demanded to be made assured of her Ladyship's perfect free will in the transaction before they advanced a shilling of their capital Their terms were so exorbitant, that I saw at once their offer must be sincere ; and, as my Lady was in her gracious mood, had no difficulty in persuading her to write a letter, in her own hand, declaring that the accounts of our misunderstandings were utter calumnies ; that we lived in perfect union, and that she was quite ready to execute any deed which her husband might desire her to sign. 'This proposal was a very timely one, and filled me with great hopes. I have not pestered my readers with many accounts of my debts and law affairs ; which were by this time so vast and complicated that I never thoroughly knew them myself, and was rendered half wild by their urgency. Suffice it to say, my money was gone — my credit was done. I was living at Castle Lyndon off my own beef and mutton, and the bread, turf, and potatoes off my own estate ; I had to watch Lady Lyndon within, and the bailiffs without. For the last two years, since I went to Dublin to receive money (which I unluckily lost at play there, to the disappointment of my creditors), I did not venture to show in that city : and could only appear at our own county town at rare intervals, and because I knew the sheriffs ; whom I swore I would murder if any ill chance happened to me. A chance of a good loan, then, was the most welcome prospect possible to me, and I hailed it with all the eagerness imaginable. In reply to Lady Lyndon's letter, came, in course of time, an answer from the confounded London merchants, stating that if her Ladyship would confirm by word of mouth, at their counting-house in Birchin Lane, London, the statement of her letter, they, having surveyed her property, would no doubt come to terms ; but they declined incurring the risk of a visit to Castle Lyndon to negotiate, as they were aware how other respectable parties, such as Messrs. Sharp and Salmon of Dublin, had been treated there. This was a hit at me; but there are certain situations in which people can't 264 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. dictate their own terms : and, 'faith, I was so pressed now for money, that I could have signed a bond with Old Nick himself, if he had come provided with a good round sum. I resolved to go and take the Countess to London. It was in vain that my mother prayed and warned me. " Depend on it," says she, " there is some artifice. When once you get into that wicked to'WTi, you are not safe. Here you may live for years and years, in luxury and splendour, barring claret and all the windows broken ; but as soon as they have you in London, they'll get the better of my poor innocent lad ; and the first thing I shall hear of you will be, that you are in trouble." " Why go, Redmond 1 " said my wife. " I am happy here, as long as you are kind to me, as you are now. We can't appear in London as we ought ; the little money you will get will be spent, like all the rest has been. Let us turn shepherd and shepherdess, and look to our flocks and be content." And she took my hand and kissed it ; while my mother only said, " Humph ! I believe she's at the bottom of it — the wicked schamei- ! " I told my wife she was a fool ; bade Mrs. Barry not be uneasy, and was hot upon going ; I would take no denial from either party. How I was to get the money to go was the question : but that was solved by my good mother, who was always ready to help me on a pinch, and who produced sixty guineas from a stocking. This was all the ready money that Barry Lyndon, of Castle Lyndon, and married to a fortune of forty thousand a year, could command : such had been the havoc made in this fine fortune by my own extrava- . gance (as I must confess), but chiefly by my misplaced confidence and the rascality of others. We did not start in state, you may be sure. We did not let the country know we were going, or leave notice of adieu with our neighbours. The famous Mr. Barry Lyndon and his noble wife travelled in a hack-chaise and pair to Waterford, under the name of Mr. and Mrs. Jones, and thence took shipping for Bristol, where we arrived quite without accident. When a man is going to the deuce, how easy and pleasant the journey is ! The thought of the money quite put me in a good humour, and my wife, as she lay on my shoulder in the post-chaise going to London, said it was the happiest ride she had taken since our marriage. One night we stayed at Reading, whence I despatched a note to my agent at Gray's Inn, saying I would be with him during the day, and begging him to procure me a lodging, and to hasten the pre- parations for the loan. My Lady and I agreed that we would go to France, and wait there for better times ; and that night, over our supper, formed a score of plans both for pleasure and retrench- I AM OUTWITTED BY LADY LYNDON 265 inent. You would have thought it was Darby and Joan together over their supper. woman ! woman ! when I recollect Lady Lyndon's smiles and blandishments — how happy she seemed to be on that night ! what an air of innocent confidence appeared in her behaviour, and what affectionate names she called me ! — I am lost in wonder at the depth of her hyprocrisy. Who can be surprised that an unsuspecting person like myself should have been a victim to such a consummate deceiver ! We were in London at three o'clock, and half-an-hour before the time appointed our chaise drove to Gray's Inn. I easily found out Mr. Tapewell's apartments — a gloomy den it was, and in an unlucky hour I entered it ! As we went up the dirty back-stair, lighted by a feeble lamp and the dim sky of a dismal London afternoon, my wife seemed agitated and faint. " Redmond," said she, as we got up to the door, " don't go in : I am sure there is danger. There's time yet ; let us go back — to Ireland — anywhere ! " And she put herself before the door, in one of her theatrical attitudes, and took ray hand. I just pushed her away to one side. " Lady Lyndon," said I, " you are an old fool ! " " Old fool ! " said she ; and she jumped at the bell, which was quickly answered by a mouldy-looking gentleman in an unpowdered wig, to whom she cried, " Say Lady Lyndon is here ; " and stalked down the passage muttering "Old fool." It was "old" which was the epithet that touched her. I might call her anything but that. Mr. TapeweU was in his musty room, surrounded by his parch- ments and tin boxes. He advanced and bowed ; begged her Lady- ship to be seated ; pointed towards a chair for me, which I took, rather wondering at his insolence ; and then retreated to a side- door, saying he would be back in one moment. And back he did come in one moment, bringing with him — whom do you think ? Another lawyer, six constables in red waist- coats with bludgeons and pistols, my Lord George Poynings, and his aunt Lady Jane Peckover. When my Lady Lyndon saw her old flame, she flung herself into his arms in an hysterical passion. She called him her saviour, her preserver, her gallant kniglit ; and then, turning round to me, poured out a flood of invective which quite astonished me. " Old fool as I am," said she, " I have outwitted the most crafty and treacherous monster under the sun. Yes, I was a fool when I married you, and gave up other and nobler hearts for your sake — yes, I was a fool when I forgot my name and lineage to unite myself with a base-bom adventurer — a fool to bear, without repining, the most monstrous tyramiy that ever woman suffered ; 266 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. to allow my property to be squandered ; to see women, as base and low-bom as yourself " " For Heaven's sake, be calm ! " cries the lawyer ; and then bounded back behind the constables, seeing a threatening look in my eye which the rascal did not like. Indeed, I could have torn him to pieces, had he come near me. Meanwhile, my Lady con- tinued in a strain of incoherent fury ; screaming against me, and against my mother, especially, upon whom she heaped abuse worthy of Billingsgate, and always beginning and ending the sentence with the word fool. "You don't tell all, my Lady," says I bitterly; "I said old fool." "I have no doubt you said and did, sir, everything that a blackguard could say or do," interposed little Pojmings. "This lady is now safe under the protection of her relations and the law, and need fear your infamous persecutions no longer." "But you are not safe," roared I; "and, as sure as I am a man of honour, and have tasted your blood once, I will have your heart's blood now." " Take down his words, constables : swear the peace against him ! " screamed the little lawyer, from behind his tipstaffs. " I would not sully my sword with the blood of such a ruffian," cried my Lord, relying on the same doughty protection. " If the scoundrel remains in London another day, he will be seized as a common swindler.'' And this threat indeed made me wince ; for I knew that there were scores of writs out against me in town, and that once in prison my case was hopeless. " Where's the man will seize me 1 " shouted I, drawing my sword, and placing my back to the door. " Let the scoundrel come. You — you cowardly braggart, come first, if you have the soul of a man ! " " We're not going to seize you ! " said the lawyer ; my Lady- ship, her aunt, and a division of the bailiffs moving off as he spoke. " My dear sir, we don't wish to seize you : we will give you a handsome sum to leave the country; only leave her Ladyship in peace ! " " And the country will be well rid of such a villain ! " says my Lord, retreating too, and not sorry to get out of my reach : and the scoundi-el of a lawyer followed him, leaving me in pos- session of the apartment, and in company of the bullies from the police-office, who were all armed to the teeth. I was no longer the man I was at twenty, when I should have charged the ruffians sword in hand, and have sent at least one of them to his account. I was broken in spirit ; regularly caught in the toils : utterly I TREAT WITH MY ENEMIES 267 baffled and beaten by that woman. Was she relenting at the door, when she paused and begged me turn back? Had she not a lingering love for me still? Her conduct showed it, as I came to reflect on it. It was my only chance now left in the world, so I put down my sword upon the lawyer's desk. " Gentlemen," said I, " I shall use no violence ; you may tell Mr. Tapewell I am quite ready to speak with him when he is at leisure ! " and I sat down and folded my arms quite peaceably. What a change from the Barry Lyndon of old days ! but, as I have read in an old book about Hannibal the Carthaginian general, when he invaded the Romans, his troops, which were the most gallant in the world, and carried all before them, went into can- tonments in some city where they were so sated with the luxuries and pleasures of life, that they were easily beaten in the next campaign. It was so with me now. My strength of mind and body were no longer tlaose of the brave youth who shot his man at fifteen, and fought a score of battles within six years afterwards. Now, in the Fleet Prison, where I write this, there is a small man who is always jeering me and making game of me ; who asks me to fight, and I haven't the courage to touch him. But I am anticipating the gloomy and wretched events of my history of humiliation, and had better proceed in order. I took a lodging in a coffee-house near Gray's Inn ; taking care to inform Mr. Tapewell of my whereabouts, and anxiously expect- ing a visit from him. He came and brought me the terms which La^ly Lyndon's friends proposed — a paltry annuity of £300 a year ; to be paid on the condition of my remaining abroad out of the three kingdoms, and to be stopped on the instant of my return. He told me what I very weU knew, that my stay in London would infallibly plunge me in gaol ; that there were writs inniunerable taken out against me here, and in the West of England ; that my credit was so blown upon that I could not hope to raise a shilling ; and he left me a night to consider of his proposal ; saying that, if I refused it, the family would proceed : if I acceded, a quarter's salary should be paid to me at any foreign port I should prefer. What was the poor, lonely, and broken-hearted man to do? I took the annuity, and was declared outlaw in the course of next week. The rascal Quin had, I found, been, after all, the cause of my undoing. It was he devised the scheme for bringing me up to London ; sealing the attorney's letter with a seal which had been agreed upon between him and the Countess formerly : indeed he had always been for trying the plan, and had proposed it at first ; but her Ladyship, with her inordinate love of romance, preferred the project of elopement. Of these points my mother 268 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. wrote me word in my lonely exile, offering at the same time to come over and share it with me ; which proposal I declined. She left Castle Lyndon a very short time after I had quitted it ; and there was silence in that hall where, under my authority, had been exhibited so much hospitality and splendour. She thought she would never see me again, and bitterly reproached me for neglecting her ; but she was mistaken in that, and in her estimate of me. Slie is very old, and is sitting by my side at this moment in the prison, working : she has a bedroom in Fleet Market over the way ; and, with the iifty-pound annuity, which she has kept with a wise prudence, we manage to eke out a miserable existence, quite unworthy of the famous and fashionable Barry Lyndon. Mr. Barry Lyndon's personal narrative finishes here, for the hand of death interrupted the ingenious author soon after the period at which the Memoir was compiled ; after he had lived nineteen years an inmate of the Fleet Prison, where the prison records state he died of delirium tremens. His mother attained' a prodigious old age, and the inhabitants of the place in her time can record with accuracy the daily disputes which used to take place between mother and son ; until the latter, from habits of intoxication, falling into a state of almost imbecility, was tended by his tough old parent as a baby almost, and would cry if deprived of his necessary glass of brandy. His life on the Continent we have not the means of following accurately; but he appears to have resumed his former profession of a gambler, without his former success. He returned secretly to England, after some time, and made an abortive attempt to extort money from Lord George Poynings, under a threat of publishing his correspondence with Lady Lyndon ; and so preventing his Lordship's match with Miss Driver, a great heiress, of strict principles, and immense property in slaves in the West Indies. Barry narrowly escaped being taken prisoner by the bailiffs who were despatched after him by his Lordship, who would have stopped his pension ; but Lady Lyndon would never consent to that act of justice, and, indeed, broke with my Lord George the very moment he married the West India lady. The fact is, the old Countess thought her charms were perennial, and was never out of love with her husband. She was living at Bath ; her property being carefully nursed by her noble relatives the Tiptoffs, who were to succeed to it in default of direct heirs : and such was the address of Barry, and the sway he still held over the woman, that he actually had almost persuaded her to go and live with him again ; when his plan and hers was interrupted by I'HE LAST DArS OP BARKY LYNDON. CONCLUSION 269 the appearance of a person who had been deemed dead for several years. This was no other than Viscount Bullingdon, who started up to the surprise of all ; and especially to that of his kinsman of the house of Tiptoff. This young nobleman made his appearance at Bath, with the letter from Barry to Lord George in his hand ; in which the former threatened to expose his connection with Lady Lyndon — a connection, we need not state, which did not reflect the slightest dishonour upon either party, and only showed that her Ladyship was in the habit of writing exceedingly foolish letters ; as many ladies, nay gentlemen, have done ere this. For calling the honour of his mother in question. Lord Bullingdon assaulted his stepfather (living at Bath under the name of Mr. Jones), and ad- ministered to him a tremendous castigation in the Pump-Eoom. His Lordship's history, since his departure, was a romantic one which we do not feel bound to narrate. He had been wounded in the American War, reported dead, left prisoner, and escaped. The remittances which were promised him were never sent ; the thought of the neglect almost broke the heart of the wild and romantic young man, and he determined to remain dead to the world at least, and to the mother who had denied him. It was in the woods of Canada, and three years after the event had occurred, that he saw the death of his half-brotlier chronicled in the Gentleman's Magazine, under the title of "Fatal Accident to Lord Viscount Castle Lyndon;" on which he determined to return to England : where, though he made himself known, it was with very great difficulty indeed that he satisfied Lord Tiptoff of the authenticity of his claim. He was about to pay a visit to his lady mother at Bath, when he recognised the well-known face of Mr. Barry Lyndon, in spite of the modest disguise which that gentleman wore, and revenged upon his person the insults of former days. Lady Lyndon was furious when she heard of the rencounter ; declined to see her son, and was for rushing at once to the arms of her adored Barry ; but that gentleman had been carried off, mean- while, from gaol to gaol, until he was lodged in the hands of Mr. Bendigo, of Chancery Lane, an assistant to the Sheriff of Middlesex ; from whose house he went to the Fleet Prison. The sheriff and his assistant, the prisoner, nay, the prison itself, are now no more. As long as Lady Lyndon lived, Barry enjoyed his income, and was perhaps as happy in prison as at any period of his existence ; when her Ladyship died, her successor sternly cut off the annuity, devoting the sum to charities : which, he said, would make a nobler use of it than tlie scoundrel who had enjoyed it hitherto. At his Lordship's death, in the Spanish campaign, in the year 1811, his 270 THE MEMOIRS OF BARRY LYNDON, ESQ. estate- fell into the family of the Tiptoffs, and his title merged in their superior rank ; but it does not appear that the Marquis of Tiptoff (Lord George succeeded to the title on the demise of his brother) renewed either the pension of Mr. Barry or the charities which the late lord had endowed. The estate has vastly improved under his Lordship's careful management. The trees in Hackton Park are all about forty years old, and the Irish property is rented in exceedingly small farms to the peasantry ; who still entertain the stranger with stories of the daring and the devilry, and the wickedness and the fall of Barry Lyndon. THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS THE EITZ-BOODLE PAPERS FITZ-BOOBLE'8 CONFESSIONS PREFACE Geoege Fitz-Boodle, Esquire, to Oliver Yobke, Esquire. Omnium Club : May 20, 1842. DEAR SIE,— I have always been considered the third-best whist-player in Europe, and (though never betting more than five pounds) have for many years past added consider- ably to my yeai'ly income by my skill in the game, imtil the commencement of the present season, when a French gentleman. Monsieur Lalouette, was admitted to the club where I usually play. His skill and reputation were so great that no men of the club were inclined to play against us two of a side ; and the consequence has been, that we have been in a manner pitted against one another. By a strange turn of luck (for I cannot admit the idea of his superiority), Fortune, since the Frenchman's arrival, has been almost constantly against me, and I have lost two-and-thirty nights in the course of a couple of score of night's play. Everybody knows that I am a poor man; and so much has Lalouette's luck drained my finances, that only last week I was obliged to give him that famous grey cob on which you have seen me riding in the Park (I can't afford a thoroughbred, and hate a cocktail),: — I was, I say, forced to give him up my cob in exchange for four ponies which I owed him. Thus, as I never walk, being a heavy man whom nobody cares to mount, my time hangs heavily on my hands ; and as I hate home, or that apology for it — a bachelor's lodgings — and as I have nothing earthly to do now 274 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS until I can afford to purchase another horse, I spend my time in sauntering from one chib to another, passing many rather listless hours in them before the men come in. You will say, Why not take to backgammon, or icwrti, or amuse yourself with a book? Sir (putting out of the question the fact that I do not play upon credit), I make a point never to play before candles are lighted ; and as for books, I must candidly confess to you I am not a reading man. 'Twas but the other day that some one recommended me to read your Magazine after dinner, saying it contained an exceedingly witty article upon — I forget what. I give you my honour, sir, that I took up the work at six, meaning to amuse myself tiU seven, when Lord Trumpington's dinner wa.s to come off, and egad ! in two minutes I fell asleep, and never woke till midnight. Nobody ever thought of looking for me in the library, where nobody ever goes ; and so ravenously hungry was I, that I was obliged to walk off to Crockford's for supper. What is it that makes you literary persons so stupid 1 I have met various individuals in society who I was told were ^VTite^s of books, and that sort of thing, and expecting rather to be amused by their conversation, have invariably found them dull to a degree, and as for information, without a particle of it. Sir, I actually asked one of these fellows, " What was the nick to seven ? " and he stared in my face, and said he didn't know. He was hugely overdressed in satin, rings, chains, and so forth ; and at the beginning of dinner was disposed to be rather talkative and pert ; but my little sally silenced him, I promise you, and got up a good laugh at his expense too. " Leave George alone," said little Lord Cinqbars, " I wari'ant he'll be a match for any of you literary fellows." Cinqbars is no great wiseacre; but, indeed, it requires no great wiseacre to know that. What is the simple deduction to be drawn from this truth? Why, this — that a man to be amusing and well informed, has no need of books at all, and had much better go to the world and to men for his knowledge. There was Ulysses, now, the Greek fellow engaged in the Trojan war, as I dare say you know ; well, he was the cleverest man possible, and how ? From having seen men and cities, their manners noted and their realms surveyed, to be sure. So have I. I have been in every capital, and can order a dinner in every language in Europe. My notion, then, is this. I have a great deal of spare time on my hands, and as I am told you pay a handsome sum to persons writing for you, I will furnish you occasionally with some of my views upon men and things ; occasional histories of my acquaintance, which I think may amuse you ; personal narratives of my own ; FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 275 essays, and what not. I am told that I do not spell correctly. This, of course, I don't know ; but you wiU remember that Richelieu and Marlborough could not spell, and, egad ! I am an honest man, and desire to be no better than they. I know that it is the matter, and not the manner, which is of importance. Have the goodness, then, to let one of your understrappers correct the spelling and the grammar of my papers : and you can give him a few shillings in my name for his trouble. Begging you to accept the assurance of my high consideration, I am, sir, your obedient servant, George Savage Fitz-Boodle. P.S. — By the way, I have said in my letter that I found all literary persons vulgar and dull. Permit me to contradict this with regard to yourself I met you once at Blackwall, I think it was, and really did not remark anything offensive in your accent or appearance. Before commencing the series of moral disquisitions, &c., which I intend, the reader may as well know who I am, and what my past course of life has been. To say that I am a Fitz-Boodle is to say at once that I am a gentleman. Our family has held the estate of Boodle ever since the reign of Henry II. ; and it is out of no ill-will to my elder brother, or unnatural desire for his death, but only because the estate is a very good one, that I wish heartily it was mine : I would say as much of Chatsworth or Eaton Hall. I am not, in the first place, what is called a ladies' man, having contracted an irrepressible habit of smoking after dinner, which has obliged me to give up a great deal of the dear creatures' society ; nor can I go much to country-houses for the same reason. Say what they will, ladies do not like you to smoke in their bedrooms ; their silly little noses scent out the odour upon the chintz, weeks after you have left them. Sir John has been caught coming to bed particularly merry and redolent of cigar-smoke ; young George, from Eton, was absolutely found in the little greenhouse puffing an Havannah ; and when discovered, they both lay the blame upon Fitz-Boodle. " It was Mr. Fitz-Boodle, mamma," says George, "who offered me the cigar, and I did not like to refuse him." "That rascal Fitz seduced us, my dear," says Sir John, "and kept us laughing until past midnight." Her Ladyship instantly sets me down as a person to be avoided. " George," whispers she to her boy, " promise me, on your honour, when you go to town, not to 276 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPEES know that man.'' And wlien she enters the breakfast-room for prayers, the first greeting is a peculiar expression of countenance, and inhaling of breath, by which my Lady indicates the presence of some exceedingly disagreeable odour in the room. She makes you the faintest of curtseys, and regards you, if not with a " flashing eye," as in the novels, at least with a "distended nostril." During the whole of the service, her heart is filled with the blackest gall towards you ; and she is thinking about the best means of getting you out of the house. What is this smoking that it should be considered a crime ? I believe in my heart that women are jealous of it, as of a rival. They speak of it as of some secret awful vice that seizes upon a man, and makes him a pariah from genteel society. I would lay a guinea that many a lady who has just been kind enough to read the above lines lays down the book, after this confession of mine that I am a smoker, and says, " Oh, the vulgar wretch ! " and passes on to something else. The fact is, that the cigar is a rival to the ladies, and their conqueror too. In the chief pipe-smoking nations they are kept in subjection. While the chief, Little White Belt, smokes, the women are silent in his wigwam ; while Mahomet Ben Jawbrahim causes volumes of odorous incense of Latakia to play round his beard, the women of the harem do not disturb his meditations, but only add to the delight of them by tinkling on a dulcimer and dancing before him. When Professor Strumpff of Gottingen takes down No. 13 from the wall, with a picture of Beatrice Oenci upon it, and which holds a pound of canaster, the Frau Professorin knows that for two hours Hermann is engaged, and takes up her stockings and knits in quiet. The constitution of French society has been quite changed within the last twelve years : an ancient and re- spectable dynasty has been overthrown ; an aristocracy which Napoleon could never master has disappeared : and from what cause? I do not hesitate to say, — -from, the habit of smoking. Ask any man whether, five years before the Eevolution of July, if you wanted a cigar at Paris, they did not bring you a roll of tobacco with a straw in it 1 Now, the whole city smokes ; society is changed ; and be sure of this, ladies, a similar combat is going on in this country at present between cigax-smoking and you. Do you suppose you will conquer ? Look over the wide world, and see that your adversary has overcome it. Germany has been puffing for threescore years ; France smokes to a man. Do you think you can keep the enemy out of England 1 Psha ! look at his progress. Ask the club-houses, Have they smoking-rooms, or not ? Are they not obhged to yield to the general want of the age, in spite of the FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 277 resistance of the old women on the committees ? I, for my part, do not despair to see a bishop lolling out of the " Athenseura " with a cheroot in his mouth, or, at any rate, a pipe stuck in his shovel-hat. But as in all great causes and in promulgating new and Ulustrious theories, their first propounders and exponents are generally the victims of their enthusiasm, of course the first preachers of smoking have been martyrs, too ; and George Fitz-Boodle is one. The first gas-man was ruined ; the inventor of steam-engine printing became a pauper. I began to smoke in days when the task was one of some danger, and paid the penalty of my crime. I was flogged most fiercely for my first cigar ; for, being asked to dine one Sunday evening with a half-pay colonel of dragoons (the gallant, simple, humorous Shortcut — Heaven bless him ! — I have had many a guinea from him who had so few), he insisted upon my smoking in his room at the " Salopian," and the consequence was, that I became so violently ill as to be reported intoxicated upon my return to Slaughter-House School, where I was a boarder, and I was whipped the next morning for my peccadillo. At Christ Church, one of our tutors was the celebrated lamented Otto Rose, who would have been a bishop under the present Government, had not an immoderate indulgence in water-gruel cut short his elegant and useful career. He was a good man, a pretty scholar and poet (the episode upon the discovery of eau-de-cologne, in his prize poem^on " The Rhine," was considered a masterpiece of art, though I'm not much of a judge myself upon such matters), and he was as remark- able for his fondness for a tuft as for his nervous antipathy to tobacco. As iU-luck would have it, my rooms (in Tom Quad) were exactly under his ; and I was grown by this time to be a con- firmed smoker. I was a baronet's son (we are of James the First's creation), and I do believe our tutor could have pardoned any crime in the world but this. He had seen me in a tandem, and at that moment was seized with a violent fit of sneezing — (sternutatory paroxysm he called it) — at the conclusion of which I was a mile down the Woodstock Road. He had seen me in pink, as we used to call it, swaggering in the open sunshine across a grass-plat in the court ; but spied out opportunely a servitor, one Todhunter by name, who was going to morning chapel with his shoestring untied, and forthwith sprang towards that unfortunate person, to set him an imposition. Everything, in fact, but tobacco he could forgive. Why did cursed fortune bring him into the rooms over mine ? The odour of the cigars made his gentle spirit quite furious ; and one luckless morning, when I was standing before my "oak," and chanced to puff a great houffie of Varinas into his face, he forgot 278 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS his respect for my family altogether (I was the second son, and my brother a sickly creature, then, — he is now sixteen stone in weight, and has a half-score of children) ; gave me a severe lecture, to which I replied rather hotly, as was my wont. And then came demand for an apology ; refusal on my part ; appeal to the Dean ; Convocation ; and rustication of George Savage Fitz-Boodle. My father had taken a second wife (of the noble house of Flint- skinner), and Lady Fitz-Boodle detested smoking, as a woman of her high principles should. She had an entire mastery over the worthy old gentleman, and thought I was a sort of demon of wickedness. The old man went to his grave with some similar notion, — Heaven help him ! — and left me but the wretched twelve thousand pounds secured to me on my poor mother's property. In the army my luck was much the same. I joined the — th Lancers, Lieutenant - Colonel Lord Martingale, in the year 1817. I only did duty with the regiment for three months. We were quartered at Cork, where I found the Irish doodheen and tobacco the pleasantest smoking possible ; and was found by his Lordship, one day, upon stable duty, smoking the shortest dearest little dumpy clay-pipe in the world. " Cornet Fitz-Boodle," said my Lord, in a towering passion, " from what blackguard did you get that pipe 1 " I omit the oaths which garnished invariably his Lordship's conversation. "I got it, my Lord," said I, "from one Terence MuUins, a jingle-driver, with a packet of his peculiar tobacco. You sometimes smoke Turkish, I believe ; do try this. Isn't it good ? " And in the simplest way in the world I puffed a volume into his face. " I see you like it," said I, so coolly, that the men — and I do believe the horses — burst out laughing. He started back — choking almost, and recovered himself only to vent such a storm of oaths and curses that I was compelled to request Captain Eawdon (the captain on duty) to take note of his Lordship's words ; and unluckily could not help adding a question which settled my business. "You were good enough," I said, "to ask me, my Lord, from what blackguard I got my pipe : might I ask from what blackguard you learned your language ? " This was quite enough. Had I said, "From what gentleman did your Lordship learn your language 1 " the point would have been quite as good, and my Lord Martingale would have suffered in my place : as it was, I was so strongly recommended to sell out by His Eoyal Highness the Comraander-in-Chief that, being of a good-natured disposition, never knowing how to refuse a friend, I at once threw up my hopes of military distinction and retired into civil life. PITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 279 My Lord was kind enough to meet me afterwards in a field in the Glaumire road, where he put a ball into my leg. This I returned to him some years later with about twenty-three others — - black ones — when he came to be balloted for at a club of which I have the honour to be a member. Thus by the indulgence of a simple and harmless propensity, — of a propensity which can inflict an injury upon no person or thing except the coat and the person of him who indulges in it, — of a custom honoured and observed in almost all the nations of the world, — of a custom which, far from leading a man into any wickedness or dissipa- tion to which youth is subject, on the contrary, begets only benevolent silence and thoughtful good-humoured observation — I found at the age of twenty all my prospects in life destroyed. I cared not for woman in those days : the calm smoker has a sweet companion in his pipe. I did not drink immoderately of wine ; for though a, friend to trifling potations, to excessively strong drinks tobacco is abhorrent. I never thought of gambling, for the lover of the pipe has no need of such excitement ; but I was considered a monster of dissipation in my family, and bade fair to come to ruin. " Look at George," my mother-in-law said to the genteel and correct young Flintskinners. " He entered the world with every prospect in life, and see in what an abyss of degradation his fatal habits have plunged him ! At school he was flogged and disgraced, he was disgraced and rusticated at the university, he was disgraced and expelled from the army ! He might have had the living of Boodle " (her Ladyship gave it to one of her nephews), " but he would not take his degree ; his papa would have purchased him a troop — nay, a lieutenant-colonelcy some day, but for his fatal excesses. And now as long as my dear husband will listen to the voice of a wife who adores him — never, never shall he spend a shilling upon so worth- less a young man. He has a small income from his mother (I cannot but think that the first Lady Fitz-Boodle was a weak and misguided person) ; let him live upon his mean pittance as he can, and I heartily pray we may not hear of him in gaol ! " My brother, after he came to the estate, married the ninth daughter of our neighbour, Sir John Spreadeagle ; and Boodle Hall has seen a new little Fitz-Boodle with every succeeding spring. The dowager retired to Scotland with a large jointure and a wondrous heap of savings. Lady Fitz is a good creature, but she thinks me something diabolical, trembles when she sees me, and gathering all her children about her, rushes into the nursery whenever I pay that little seminary a visit, and actually slapped poor little Frank's ears one day when I was teaching him to ride upon the back of a New- foundland dog. 280 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS " George,'' said my brother to me the last time I paid him a visit at the old hall, " don't be angry, my dear fellow, but Maria is in a — hum — in a delicate situation, expecting her — hum " — (the eleventh) — "and do you know you frighten her? It was but yesterday you met her in the rookery — you were smoking that enormous German pipe — and when she came in she had an hysterical seizure, and Drench says that in her situation it's dangerous. And I say, George, if you go to town you'll iind a couple of hundred at your banker's." And with this the poor fellow shook me by the hand, and called for a fresh bottle of claret. Afterwards he told me, with haany hesitations, that my room at Boodle Hall had been made into a second nursery. I see my sister- in-law in London twice or thrice in the season, and the little people, who have almost forgotten to call me Uncle George. It's hard, too, for I am a lonely man after all, and my heart yearns to them. The other day I smuggled a couple of them into my chambers, and had a little feast of cream and strawberries to welcome them. But it had like to cost the nursery-maid (a Swiss girl that Fitz-Boodle hired somewhere in his travels) her place. My step-mamma, who happened to be in town, came flying down in her chariot, pounced upon the poor thing and the children in the midst of the entertainment ; and when I asked her, with rather a bad grace to be sure, to take a chair and a share of the feast — " Mr. Fitz-Boodle," says she, " I am not accustomed to sit down in a place that smells of tobacco like an ale-house — an ale-house inhabited by a serpent, sir. A serpent 1 — do you understand ine 1 — who carries his poison into his brother's own house, and purshues his eenfamous designs before his brother's own children. Put on Miss Maria's bonnet this instant. Mamsell, ontondy-voo ? Metty le bonny a mamsell. And I shall take care, Mamsell, that you return to Switzerland to-morrow. I've no doubt you are a relation of Cour- voisier — oui ! oui ! Courvoisier, voiis comprenny — and you shall certainly be sent back to your friends. AVith this speech, and with the children and their maid sobbing before her, my Lady retired ; but for once my sister-in-law was on my side, not liking the meddlement of the elder lady. I know, then, that from indulging in that simple habit of smok- ing, I have gained among the ladies a dreadful reputation. I see that they look coolly upon me, and darkly at their husbands when they arrive at home in my company. Men, I observe, in conse- quence, ask me to dine much oftener at the club, or the " Star and Garter " at Richmond, or at " Lovegrove's," than in their own houses ; and with this sort of arrangement I am fain to acquiesce ; for, as I said before, I am of an easy temper, and can at any rate mZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 281 take my cigar-case out after dinner at Blacl5;-wall, when my Lady or the duchess is not by. I know, of course, the best men in town ; and as for ladies' society, not having it (for I will have none of your pseudo - ladies, such as sometimes honour bachelors' parties, — actresses, couturieres, opera-dancers, and so forth) — as for ladies' society, I say, I cry pish ! 'tis not worth the trouble of the compli- menting, and the bother of pumps and black silk stockings. Let any man remember what ladies' society was when he had an opportunity of seeing them among themselves, as What-d'ye-call- 'im does in the Thesmophoria — (I beg pardon, I was on the verge of a classical illusion, which I abominate) — I mean at that period of his life when the intellect is pretty acute, though the body is small — namely, when a young gentleman is about eleven years of age, dining at his father's table during the holidays, and is requested by his papa to quit the dinner table when the ladies retire from it. Corbleii I I recollect their whole talk as well as if it had been whispered but yesterday ; and can see, after a long dinner, the yellow summer sun throwing long shadows over the lawn before the dining-room windows, and my poor mother and her company of ladies sailing away to the music-room in old Boodle Hall. The Countess Dawdley was the great lady in our county, a portly lady who used to love crimson satin in those days, and birds-of-paradise. She was flaxen-haired, and the Eegent once said she resembled one of King Charles's beauties. When Sir John Todcaster used to begin his famous story of the exciseman (I shall not tell it here, for very good reasons), my poor mother used to turn to Lady Dawdley, and give that mystic signal at which all females rise from their chairs. Tufthunt, the curate, would spring from his seat, and be sure to be the first to open the door for the retreating ladies ; and my brother Tom and I, though remaining stoutly in our places, were speedily ejected from them by the governor's invariable remark, " Tom and George, if you have had quite enough of wine, you had better go and join your mamma." Yonder she marches, Heaven bless her ! through the old oak hall (how long the shadows of the antlers are on the wainscot, and the armour of EoUo Fitz-Boodle looks in the sunset as if it were em- blazoned with rubies) — yonder she marches, stately and tall, in her invariable pearl-coloured tabinet, followed by Lady Dawdley, blazing like a flamingo ; next comes Lady Emily Tufthunt (she was Lady Emily Flintskinner), who will not for all the world take precedence of rich, vulgar, kind, good-humoured Mrs. Colonel Grogwater, as she would be called, with a yellow little husband from Madras, who first taught me to drink sangaree. He was a new arrival in our county, but paid nobly to the hounds, and occupied hospitably a 282 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPEES house which was always famous for its hospitality — Sievely Hall (poor Bob Cullender ran through seven thousand a year before he was thirty years old). Once when I was a lad, Colonel Grogwater gave me two gold mohurs out of his desk for whist-markers, and I'm sorry to say I ran up from Eton and sold them both for seventy- three shillings at a shop in Comhill. But to return to the ladies, who are all this while kept waiting in the hall, and to their usual conversation after dinner. Can any man forget how miserably flat it was 1 Five matrons sit on sofas, and talk in a subdued voice : — First Lady {mysteriously). My dear Lady Dawdley, do tell me about poor Susan Tuckett. Second Lady. All three children are perfectly well, and I assure you as fine babies as I ever saw in my life. I made her give them Daffy's Elixir the first day ; and it was the greatest mercy that I had some of Frederick's baby-clothes by me ; for you know I had provided Susan with sets for one only, and really Third Lady. Of course one couldn't ; and for my part I think your Ladyship is a great deal too kind to these people. A little gardener's boy dressed in Lord Dawdley's frocks indeed ! I recollect that one at his christening had the sweetest lace in the world ! Fourth Lady. What do you think of this, ma'am — Lady Emil}', I mean ! I have just had it from Howell and James — guipure, they call it. Isn't it an odd name for lace 1 And they charge me, upon my conscience, four guineas a yard ! Third Lady. My mother, when she came to Flintskinner, had lace upon her robe that cost sixty guineas a yard, ma'am ! 'Twas sent from Malines direct by our relation, the Count d'Araignay; Fourth Lady (aside). I thought she would not let the evening pass without talking of her Malines lace and her Count d'Ai-aignay. Odious people ! they don't spare their backs, but they pinch their Here Tom upsets a coffee cup over his white jean trousers, and another young gentleman bursts into a laugh, saying, " By Jove, that's a good 'un ! " " George, my dear,'' says mamma, " had not you and your young friend better go into the garden? But mind, no fruit, or Dr. Glauber must be called in again immediately 1 " And we all go, and in ten minutes I and my brother are fighting in the stables. If, instead of listening to the matrons and their discourse, we had taken the opportunity of attending to the conversation of the Misses, we should have heard matter not a whit more interesting. First Miss. They were all three in blue crape ; you never saw anything so odious. And I know for a certainty that they wore FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 283 those dresses at Muddlebury, at the archery-ball, and I dare say they had them in town. Second Miss. Don't you think Jemima decidedly crooked? And those fair complexions, they freckle so, that really Miss Blanche ought to be called Miss Brown. Third Miss. He, he, he ! Fov/rth Miss. Don't you think Blanche is a pretty name ? First Miss. La ! do you think so, dear 1 Why, it's my second name ! Second Miss. Then I'm sure Captain Travers thinks it a beautiful name ! Third Miss. He, he, he ! Fourth Miss. What was he teUing you at dinner that seemed to interest you so ? First Miss. law, nothing ! — that is, yes ! Charles — that is. Captain Travers — is a sweet poet, and was reciting to me some lines that he had composed, upon a faded violet — ' ' The odour from the flower is gone, That like thy " like thy something, I forget what it was ; but his lines are sweet, and so original too ! I wish that horrid Sir John Todcaster had not begim his story of the exciseman, for Lady Fitz-Boodle always quits the table when he begins. Third Miss. Do you like those tufts that gentlemen wear some- times on their chins ? Second Miss. Nonsense, Mary ! Third Miss. Well, I only asked, Jane. Frank thinks, you know, that he shall very soon have one, and puts bear's-grease on his chin every night. Second Miss. Mary, nonsense ! Third Miss. Well, only ask him. You know he came to our dressing-room last night and took the pomatum away ; and he says that when boys go to Oxford they always First Miss. heavens ! have you heard the news about the Lancers 1 Charles — that is. Captain Travers — told it me ! Second Miss. Law, they won't go away before the ball, I hope ! First Miss. No, but on the 15th they are to shave their moustaches ! He says that Lord Tufto is in a perfect fury about it ! Second Miss. And poor George Beardmore, too ! — &c. Here Tom upsets the coffee over his trousers, and the conversa- tion ends. I can recollect a dozen such, and ask any man of sense whether such talk amuses him ? 284 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS Try again to speak to a young lady while you are dancing — what we call in this country — a quadrille. What nonsense do you invariably give and receive in return ! No, I am a woman-scorner, and don't care to own it. I hate young ladies ! Have I not been in love with several, and has any one of them ever treated me decently 1 I hate married women ! Do they not hate me 1 and, simply because I smoke, try to draw their husbands away from my society 1 I hate dowagers ! Have I not cause 1 Does not every dowager in London point to George Fitz-Boodle as to a dissolute wretch whom young and old should avoid t And yet do not imagine that I have not loved. I have, and madly, many, many times ! I am but eight-and-thirty,* not past the age of passion, and may very likely end by running off with an heiress — or a cook-maid (for who knows what strange freaks Love may choose to play in his own particular person 1 and I hold a man to be a mean creature who calculates about checking any such sacred impulse as lawful love) — I say, though despising the sex in general for their conduct to me, I know of particular persons belong- ing to it who are worthy of ail respect and esteem, and as such I beg leave to point out the particular young lady who is perusing these lines. Do not, dear madam, then imagine that if I knew you I should be disposed to sneer at you. Ah no ! Fitz-Boodle's bosom has tenderer sentiments than from his way of hfe you would fancy, and stern by rule is only too soft by practice. Shall I whisper to you the story of one or two of my attachments t All terminating fatally (not in death, but in disappointment, which, as it occurred, I used to imagine a thousand times more bitter than death, but from which one recovers somehow more readily than from the other- named complaint) — aU, I say, terminating wretchedly to myself, as if some fatality pursued my desire to become a domestic character. My first love — no, let us pass that over. Sweet one ! thy name shall profane no hireling page. Sweet, sweet memory ! Ah, ladies, those delicate hearts of yours have, too, felt the throb. And be- tween the last ob in the word throb and the words now written, I have passed a delicious period of perhaps an hour, perhaps a minute, I know not how long, thinking of that holy first love and of her who inspired it. How clearly every single incident of the passion is remembered by me ! and yet 'twas long long since. I was but a child then — a child at school — and, if the truth must be told, L — ra R-ggl-s (I would not write her whole name to be made one of the Marquess of Hertford's executors) was a woman full thirteen years older than myself ; at the period of which I write she must have been at least five-and-twenty. She and her mother used to sell * He is five-and-forfcy, if he is a day old. — 0. Y. FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 685 tarts, hard-bake, lollipops, and other such simple comestibles, on Wednesdays and Saturdays (half-holidays), at a private school where I received the first rudiments of a classical education. I used to go and sit before her tray for hours, but I do not think the poor girl ever supposed any motive led me so constantly to her little stall beyond a vulgar longing for her tarts and her ginger-beer. Yes, even at that early period my actions were misrepresented, and the fatality which has oppressed my whole life began to show itself, — the purest passion was misinterpreted by her and my schoolfellows and they thought I was actuated by simple gluttony. They nicknamed me Alicompayne. Well, be it so. Laugh at early passion ye who will : a high- bom boy madly in love with a lowly ginger-beer girl ! She married afterwards, took the name of Latter, and now keeps with her old husband a turnpike, through which I often ride ; but I can recollect her bright and rosy of a sunny summer afternoon, her red cheeks shaded by a battered straw bonnet, her tarts and ginger-beer upon a neat white cloth before her, mending blue worsted stockings until the young gentlemen should interrupt her by coming to buy. Many persons will call this description low. I do not envy them their gentility, and have always observed through life (as, to be sure, every other yentleman has observed as well as myself) that it is your^arwTiM who stickles most for what he calls the genteel, and has the most squeamish abhorrence for what is frank and natural. Let us pass at once, however, as all the world must be pleased, to a recital of an affair which occurred in the very best circles of society, as' they are called, viz., my next unfortunate attachment. It did not occur for several years after that simple and platonic passion just described : for though they may talk of youth as the season of romance, it has always appeared to me that there are no beings in the world so entirely unrom antic and selfish as certain young English gentlemen from the age of fifteen to twenty. The oldest Lovelace about town is scarcely more hard-hearted and scornful than they ; they ape all sorts of selfishness and rouerie : they aim at excelling at cricket, at billiards, at rowing, and drinking, and set more store by a red coat and a neat pair of top-boots than by any other glory. A young fellow staggers into coUege-ohapel of a morning, and communicates to all his friends that he was " so cut last night," with the greatest possible pride. He makes a joke of having sisters and a kind mother at home who loves him ; and if he speaks of his father, it is with a knowing sneer to say that he has a tailor's and a horse-dealer's bill that will surprise " the old governor." He would be ashamed of being in love. I, in common 286 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS with my kind, had these affectations, and my perpetual custom of smoking added not a little to my reputation as an accomplished roM^. What came of this custom in the army and at college, the reader has already heard. Alas ! in life it went no better with me, and many pretty chances I had went off in that accursed smoke. After quitting the army in the abrupt manner stated, I passed some short time at home, and was tolerated by my mother-in-law, because I had formed an attachment to a young lady of good con- nections and with a considerable fortune, which was really very nearly becoming mine. Mary M'Alister was the only daughter of Colonel M'Alister, late of the Blues, and Lady Susan his wife. Her Ladyship was no more ; and, indeed, of no family compared to ours (which has refused a peerage any time these two hundred years) ; but being an earl's daughter and a Scotchwoman, Lady Emily Fitz- Boodle did not fail to consider her highly. Lady Susan was daughter of the late Admiral Earl of Marlingspike and Baron Plumduff. The Colonel, Miss M'Alister's father, had a good estate, of whicli his daughter was the heiress, and as I fished her out of the water upon a pleasure-party, and swam with her to shore, we became naturally intimate, and Colonel M'Alister forgot, on accoimt of the service rendered to him, the dreadful reputation for profligacy which I enjoyed in the county. Well, to cut a long story short, which is told here merely for the moral at the end of it, I should have been Fitz-Boodle M'Alister at this minute most probably, and master of four thousand a year, but for the fatal cigar-box. I bear Mary no malice in saying that she was a high-spirited little girl, loving, before all things, her own way ; nay, perhaps I do not, from long habit and indulgence in tobacco -smoking, appreciate the delicacy of female organisations, which were oftentimes most painfully affected by it. She was a keen-sighted little person, and soon found that the world had belied poor George Fitz-Boodle ; who, instead of being the cunning monster people supposed him to be, was a simple, reckless, good-humoured, honest fellow, marvellously addicted to smoking, idleness, and telling the truth. She called me Orson, and I was happy enough on the 14th February, in the year 18 — (it's of no consequence), to send her such a pretty little copy of verses about Orson and Valentine, in which the rude habits of the savage man were shown to be over- come by the polished graces of his kind and brilliant conqueror, that she was fairly overcome, and said to me, " George Fitz-Boodle, if you give up smoking for a year, I will marry you." I swore I would, of course, and went home and flung four pounds of Hudson's cigars, two meerschaum pipes that had cost me ten guineas at the establishment of Mr. Gattie at Oxford, a tobacco- FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 287 bag that Lady Fitz-Boodle had given me before her marriage with my father (it was the only present that I ever had from her or any member of the Fliutskinner family), and some choice packets of Varinas and Syrian, into the lake in Boodle Park. The weapon amongst them all which I most regretted was — will it be believed ] — the little black doodheen which had been the cause of the quarrel between Lord Martingale and me. However, it went along with the others. I would not allow my groom to have so much as a cigar, lest I should be tempted hereafter ; and the consequence was that a few days after many fat carp and tenches in the lake (I must confess 'twas no bigger than a pond) nibbled at the tobacco, and came floating on their backs on the top of the water quite intoxi- cated. My conversion made some noise in the county, being emphasised as it were by this fact of the fish. I can't tell you with what pangs I kept my resolution ; but keep it I did for some time. With so much beauty and wealth, Mary M'Alister had of course many suitors, and among them was the young Lord Dawdley, whose mamma has previously been described in her gown of red satin. As I used to thrash Dawdley at school, I thrashed him in after-life in love ; he put up with his disappointment pretty well, and came after a while and shook hands with me, telling me of the bets that there were in the county, where the whole story was known, for and against me. For the fact is, as I must own, that Mary M'Alister, the queerest, frankest of women, made no secret of the agreement, or the cause of it. " I did not care a penny for Orson," she said, " but he would go on writiug me such dear pretty verses that at last I couldn't help saying yes. But if he breaks his promise to me, I declare, upon my honour, I'U break mine, and nobody's heart will be broken either." This was the perfect fact, as I must confess, and I declare that it was only because she amused me and delighted me, and provoked me, and made me laugh very much, and because, no doubt, she was very rich, that I had any attachment for her. "For Heaven's sake, George," my father said to me, as I quitted home to follow my beloved to London, "remember that you are a younger brother and have a lovely girl and fom- thousand a year within a year's reach of you. Smoke as much as you like, my boy, after marriage," added the old gentleman knowingly (as if he, honest soul, after his second marriage, dared drink an extra pint of wine without my Lady's permission 1), " but eschew the tobacco-shops tUl then." I went to London resolving to act upon the paternal advice, and oh ! how I longed for the day when I should be married, 288 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS vowing ill my secret soul that I woiild light a cigar as I walked out of St. George's, Hanover Square. Well, I came to London, and so carefully avoided smoking that I would not even go into Hudson's shop to pay his bill, and as smoking was not the fashion then among young men as (thank Heaven !) it is now, I had not many temptations from my friend's examples in my clubs or elsewhere ; only little Dawdley began to smoke, as if to spite me. He had never done so before, but con- fessed — the rascal ! — that he enjoyed a cigar now, if it were but to mortify me. But I took to other and more dangerous excite- ments, and upon the nights when not in attendance upon Mary M'Alister, might be found in very dangerous proximity to a polished mahogany table, round which claret-bottles circulated a great deal too often, or worse still, to a table covered with green cloth and ornamented with a couple of wax-candles and a couple of packs of cards, and four gentlemen playing the enticing game of whist. Likewise, I came to carry a snuff-box, and to consume in secret huge quantities of rappee. For ladies' society I was even then disinclined, hating and de- spising small-talk, and dancing, and hot routs, and vulgar scrambles for suppers. I never could understand the pleasure of acting the part of lacquey to a dowager, and standing behind her chair, or bustling through the crowd for her carnage. I always found an opera too long by two acts, and have repeatedly fallen asleep in the presence of Mary M'Alister herself, sitting at the back of the box shaded by the huge beret of her old aunt, Lady Betty Plum- duff; and many a time has Dawdley, with Miss M'Alister on his arm, wakened me up at the close of the entertainment in time to offer my hand to Lady Betty, and lead the ladies to their carriage. If I attended her occasionally to any ball or party of pleasure, I went, it must be confessed, with clumsy ill-disguised iU-humonr. Good heavens ! have I often and often thought in the midst of a song, or the very thick of a ballroom, can people prefer this to a book and a sofa, and a dear, dear cigar-box, from thy stores, charming Mariana Woodville ! Deprived of my favourite plant, I grew sick in mind and body, moody, sarcastic, and discontented. Such a state of things could not long continue, nor could Miss M'Alister continue to have much attachment for sucli a sullen ill- conditioned creature as I then was. She used to make me wild with her wit and her sarcasm, nor have I ever possessed the readi- ness to parry or reply to those fine points of woman's wit, and she treated me the more mercilessly as she saw that I could not resist her. Well, the polite reader must remember a great fSte that was FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 289 given at B House, some years back, in honour of his Highness the Hereditary Prince of Kalbsbraten-Pumperniclfel, who was then in London on a visit to his illustrious relatives. It was a fancy ball, and the jjoems of Scott being at that time all the fashion, Mary was to appear in the character of the "Lady of the Lake," old M'Alister making a very tall and severe - looking harper; Dawdley, a most insignificant Fitzjames ; and your humble servant a stalwart manly Eoderick Dhu. We wore to meet at B House at twelve o'clock, and as I had no fancy to drive through the. town in my cab dressed in a kilt and philibeg, I agreed to take a seat in Dawdley's carriage, and to dress at his house in Mayfair. At eleven I left a very pleasant bachelors' party, growling to quit them and the honest jovial claret bottle, in order to scrape and cut capers like a harlequin from the theatre. When I arrived at Dawdley's, I mounted to a dressing-room, and began to array myself in my cursed costume. The art of costuming was by no means so well understood in those days as it has been since, and mine was out of all correct- ness. I was made to sport an enormous plume of black ostrich- feathers, such as never was worn by any Highland chief, and had a huge tiger-skin sporran to dangle like an apron before innumer- able yards of plaid petticoat. The tartan cloak was outrageously hot and voluminous ; it was the dog-days ; and all these thitigs I was condemned to wear in the midst of a crowd of a thousand people ! Dawdley sent up word, as I was dressing, that his dress had not arrived, and he took my cab and drove off in a rage to his tailor. There was no hiirry, I thought, to make a fool of myself; so having put on a pair of plaid trews, and very neat pumps with shoe-buckles, my courage failed me as to the rest of the dress, and taking down one of his dressing-gowns, I went downstairs to the study, to wait until he should arrive. The windows of the pretty room were open, and a snug sofa, with innumerable cushions, drawn towards one of them. A great tranquil moon was staring into the chamber, in which stood, amidst books and all sorts of bachelor's lumber, a silver tray with a couple of tall Venice glasses, and a bottle of Maraschino bound with straw. I can see now the twinkle of the liquor in the moonshine, as I poured it into the glass ; and I swallowed two or three little cups of it, for my spirits were downcast. Close to the tray of Maras- chino stood — must I say it 1 — a box, a mere box of cedar, bound rudely together with pink paper, branded with the name of " Hudson " on the side, and bearing on the cover the arms of Spain. I thought I would just take up the box and look in it. 4 T 290 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS Ah Heaven ! there they were — a hundred and fifty of them, in calm comfortable rows : lovingly side by side they lay, with the great moon shining down upon them — thin at the tip, full in the waist, elegantly round and full, a little spot here and there shining upon them — beauty spots upon the cheek of Sylvia. The house was quite quiet. Dawdley always smoked in his room ; — I had not smoked for four months and eleven days. When Lord Dawdley came into the study, he did not make any remarks ; and oh, how easy my heart felt ! He was dressed in his green and boots, after Westall's picture, correctly. " It's time to be off, George," said he ; " they told me you were dressed long ago. Come up, my man, and get ready." I rushed up into the dressing-room, and madly dashed my head and arms into a pool of eau-de-cologne. I drank, I believe, a tumblerful of it. I called for my clothes, and strange to say, they were gone. My servant brought them, however, saying that he had put them away — making some stupid excuse. I put them on, not heeding them much, for I was half tipsy with the excitement of the ci of the smo — of what had taken place in Dawdley's study, and with the Maraschino and the eau-de-cologne I had drunk. " What a fine odour of lavender-water ! " said Dawdley, as we rode in the carriage. I put my head out of the window and shrieked out a laugh ; but made no other reply. " What's the joke, George 1 " said Dawdley. " Did I say any- thing witty ? " "No," cried I, yelling still more wildly; " nothing more witty than usual." "Don't be severe, George,'' said he, with a mortified air; and we drove on to B House. There must have been something strange and wild in my appearance, and those awful black plumes, as I passed through the crowd ; for I observed people looking and making a strange nasal noise (it is called sniffing, and I have no other more delicate term for it), and making way as I pushed on. But I moved for- ward very fiercely, for the wine, the Maraschino, the eau-de-cologne, and the — the excitement had rendered me almost wild ; and at length I arrived at the place where my lovely Lady of the Lake and her Harper stood. How beautiful she looked, — all eyes were upon her as she stood blushing. When she saw me, however, her PITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 29I countenance assumed an appearance of alarm. " Good heavens, George ! " she said, stretching her hand to me, " what makes you look so wild and pale?" I advanced, and was going to take her hand, when she dropped it with a scream. ■" Ah — ah — ah ! " she said. " Mr. Fitz-Boodle, you've been smoking ! " There was an immense laugh from four hundred people round about us, and the scoundrelly Dawdley joined in the yell. I rushed furiously out, and, as I passed, hurtled over the fat Hereditary Prince of Kalbsbraten-Pumpernickel. " Es rieeht hier ungeheuer stark von Tabak ! " I heard his Highness say, as I madly flung myself through the aides-de-camp. The next day Mary M'Alister, in a note full of the most odious good sense and sarcasm, reminded me of our agreement ; said that she was quite convinced that we were not by any means fitted for one another, and begged me to consider myself henceforth quite free. The little wretch had the impertinence to send me a dozen boxes of cigars, which, she said, would console me for my lost love ; as she was perfectly certain that I was not mercenary, and that I loved tobacco better than any woman in the world. I believe she was right, though I have never to this day been able to pardon the scoundrelly stratagem by which Dawdley robbed me of a wife and won one himself As I was lying on his sofa, looking at the moon and lost in a thousand happy con- templations. Lord Dawdley, returning from the tailor's, saw me smoking at my leisure. On entering his dressing-room, a horrible treacherous thought struck him. " I must not betray my friend," said he ; " but in love all is fair, and he shall betray himself" There were my tartans, my cursed feathers, my tiger-skin sporran upon the sofa. He called up my groom ; he made the rascal put on all my clothes, and, giving him a guinea and four cigars, bade him lock himself into the little pantry and smoke them without taking the clothes off. John did so, and was very ill in consequence, and so when I came to B House, my clothes were redolent of tobacco, and I lost lovely Mary M'Alister. I am godfather to one of Lady Dawdley's boys, and hers is the only house where I am allowed to smoke unmolested ; but I have never been able to admire Dawdley, a sly, sournois, spiritless, lily-livered fellow, that took his name off all his clubs the year he married. M' MISS LOWE INNA LOWE was the daughter of Moses Lowe, banker at Bonn. I passed through the town last year, fifteen years after the events I am about to relate, and heard that Moses was imprisoned for forgery and fraudulent bankruptcy. He merited the punishment which the merciful Prussian law inflicted on him. Minna was the most beautiful creature that my eyes ever lighted on. Sneer not, ye Christian maidens ; but the fact was so. I saw her for the first time seated at a window covered with golden vine-leaves, with grapes just turning to purple, and tendrils twisting in the most fantastical arabesques. The leaves cast a pretty chequered shadow over her sweet face, and the simple, thin, white muslin gown in which she was dressed. She had bare white arms, and a blue ribbon confined her little waist. She was knit- ting, as all German women do, whether of the Jewish sort or otherwise ; and in the shadow of the room sat her sister Emma, a powerful woman with a powerful voice. Emma was at the piano, singing, " Herz, mein Herz, warum so trau-au-rig," — singing much out of tune. I had come to change one of Coutts's circulars at Lowe's bank, and was looking for the door of the caisse. "Links, mein Herr ! " said Minna Lowe, making the gentlest inclination with her pretty little head ; and blushing ever so little, and raising up tenderly a pair of heavy blue eyes, and then dropping them again, overcome by the sight of the stranger. And no wonder ; I was a sight worth contemplating then, — I had golden hair which fell gracefidly over my shoulders, and a slim waist (where are you now, slim waist and golden hairl), and a pair of brown mustachios that curled gracefully under a firm Eoman nose, and a tuft to my chin that could not but vanquish any woman. " Links, mein Herr," said lovely Minna Lowe. That little word links dropped upon my wounded soul like balm. There is nothing in links ; it is not a pretty word. Minna Lowe simply told me to turn to the left, when I was debating between that side and its opposite, in order to find the cash-room door. Any other person might have said links (or rechts for that FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 293 matter), aud would not have made the slightest impression upon me ; but Minna's fuU red lips, as they let slip the monosyllable, wore a smile so tender, and uttered it with such inconceivable sweetness, that I was overcome at once. " Sweet bell ! " I could have said, " tinkle that dulcet note for ever, — links, clinks, linx ! I love the chime. It soothes and blesses me." All this I could have said, and much more, had I had my senses about me, and had I been a proficient in the German language ; but I could not speak, both from ignorance and emotion. I blushed, stuttered, took off my cap, made an immensely foolish bow, and began forth- with fumbling at the door handle. The reason why I have introduced the name of this siren is to show that if tobacco in a former unlucky instance has proved my enemy, in the present case it was my firmest friend. I, the descendant of the Norman Fitz-Boodle, the relative of kings and emperors, might, but for tobacco, have married the daughter of Moses Lowe, the Jew forger and convict of Bonn. I would have done it ; for I hold the man a slave who calculates in love, and who thinks about prudence when his heart is in question. Men marry their cookmaids and the world looks down upon them. Ne sit ancillce amor pudori I I exclaim wit]i a notorious poet, if you heartily and entirely love your cookmaid, you are a fool and a coward not to wed her. What more can you want than to have your heart filled up ? Can a duchess do more ■! You talk of the difference of rank and the decencies of society. Away, sir ! love is divine, and knows not your paltry worldly calculations. It is not love you worship, heartless silly calculator ! it is the interest of thirty thousand pounds in the Three-per-Cents., and the blessing of a genteel mother-in-law in Harley Street, aud the in- effable joy of snug dinners, and the butler behind your chair. Fool ! love is eternal, butlers and mothers-in-law are perishable : you have but the enjoyment of your Three-per-Cents. for forty years ; and then, what do they avail you ? But if you believe that she wliom you choose, and to whom your heart clings, is to be your soul's companion, not now merely, but for ever and ever ; then what a paltry item of money or time has deterred you from your happiness, wliat a miserable penny-wise economist you have been ! And here, if, as a man of the world, I might be allowed to give advice to fathers and mothers of families, it would be this : young men fall in love with people of a lower rank, and they are not strong enough to resist the dread of disinheritance, or of the world's scorn, or of the cursed tyrant gentility, and dare not marry the woman they love above all. But, if prudeijce is strong, passion is strong too, and 294 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPEKS principle is not, and women (Heaven keep them !) are weak. We all know what happens then. "Prudent papas and mammas say, " George will sow his wild oats soon, he will be tired of that odious woman one day, and we'll get a good marriage for him : meanwhile it is best to hush the matter up and pretend to know nothing about it." But suppose George does the only honest thing in his power, and marries the woman he loves above all ; then what a cry you have from parents and guardians, what shrieks from aunts and sisters, what excommunications and disinheriting! "What a weak fool George is ! " say his male friends in the clubs ; and no hand of sym- pathy is held out to poor 2[rs. George, who is never forgiven, but shunned like a plague, and sneered at by a relentless pharisaical world until death sets her free. As long as she is unmarried, avoid her if you will ; but as soon as she is married, go ! be kind to her, and comfort her, and pardon and forget if you can ! And lest some charitable people should declare that I am setting up here an apology for vice, let me here, and by the way of precaution, flatly contradict them, and declare that I only would oflsr a plea for mg,rriage. /'"^t where has Minna Lowe been left during this page of dis- quisition ? Gazing through a sunny cluster of vine-leaves upon a young and handsome stranger, of noble face and exquisite proportions, who was trying to find the door of her father's bank. That entrance being through her amiable directions discovered, I entered and found Messrs. Moses and Solomon Lowe in the counting-house, Herr Solomon being the son of Moses, and head clerk or partner in the business. That I was cheated in my little matter of exchange stands to reason. A Jew banker (or such as I have had the honour to know) cannot forego the privilege of cheating ; no, if it be but for a shilling. What do I say, — a shilling? — a penny ! He will cheat you, in the first place, in the exchanging your note ; he will then cheat you in giving gold for your silver ; and though very likely he will invite you to a splendid repast afterwards that shall have cost him a score of thalers to procure, he will have had the satisfaction of robbing you of your groschen, as no doubt he would rob his own father or son. Herr Moses Lowe must have been a very sharp Israelite, indeed, to rob Herr Solomon, or vice versd. The poor fellows are both in prison for a matter of forgery, as I heard last year when passing through Bonn ; and I confess it was not without a little palpitation of the heart (it is a sausage-merchant's now) that I went and took one look at the house where I had at first beheld the bright eyes of Minna Lowe. For let them say as they will, that woman whom a man has once FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 295 loved cannot be the same to him as another. • Whenever one of my passions comes into a room, my cheeks flush, — my knees tremble, — I look at her with pleased tenderness and (for the objects of my adorar tion do not once in forty times know their good fortune) with melan- choly secret wonder. There they are, the same women, and yet not the same ; it is the same nose and eyes, if you will, but not the same looks ; the same voice, but not the same sweet words as of old. The figure moves, and looks and talks to you ; you know how dear and how different its speech and actions once were ; 'tis the hall with all the lights put out and the garlands dead (as I have said in one of my poems). Did you ever have a pocket-book that once contained five thousand pounds 1 Did you ever look at that pocket- book with the money lying in it? Do you remember how you respected and admired that pocket-book, investing it with a secret awe, imagining it had a superiority to other pocket-books 1 I have such a pocket-book; I keep it now, and often look at it rather tenderly. It cannot be as other portfolios to me. I remember that it once held five thousand pounds. Thus it is with love. I have empty pocket-books scattered all over Europe of this kind ; and I always go and look at them just for a moment, and the spirit flies back to days gone by ; kind eyes lobk at me as of yore, and echoes of old gentle voices fall tenderly upon the ear. Away ! to the true heart the past neve?' is past ; and some day when Death has cleared our dull faculties, and past and future shall be rolled into one, we shall. . . . " Well, you were quite right, my good sir, to interrupt me ; I can't help it, I am too apt to grow sentimental, and always on the most absurd pretexts. I never know when the fit will come on me, or a propos of what. I never was so jolly in my whole life as one day coming home from a funeral ; and once went to a masked ball at Paris, the gaiety of which made me so profoimdly miserable, that, egad ! I wept like Xerxes (wasn't that the fellow's name f), and was sick — sick at heart. This premised, permit me, my friend, to indulge in sentiment a propios of Minna Lowe ; for three weeks, at least, I adored the wench, and could give any person curious that way a complete psychological history of the passion's rise, progress, and decay ; — decay, indeed, why do I say decay 1 A man does not " decay " when he tumbles down a well, he drowns there ; so is love choked sometimes by abrupt conclusions, falls down wells, and, oh, the dismal truth at the bottom of them ! " If, my Lord," said Herr Moses, counting out the gold.fredericks to me, "you intend to shtay in our town, I hope my daughtersh and I vill have shometimesh de pleashure of your high veil-born shoshiety ? " 296 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS " The town is a most delightful one, Mr. Lowe," answered I. " I am myself an Oxford man, and exceedingly interested about — ahem — about the Byzantine historians, of which I sec the University is producing an edition ; and I shall make I think a considerable stay." Heaven bless us ! 'twas Miss Minna's eyes that had done the business. But for them I should have slept at Coblentz that very night ; where, by the way, the Hotel de la Poste is one of the very best inns in Europe. A friend had accompanied me to Bonn, — a jolly dragoon, who was quite versed in the German language, having spent some time in the Austrian service before he joined us ; or in the " Awthtwian thervith," as he would call it, with a double distilled gentility of accent, very difficult to be acquired out of Regent Street. We had quarrelled already thrice on the passage from England — viz., at Rotterdam, at Cologne, and once here ; so that when he said he intended to go to Mayence, I at once proclaimed that I intended to stay where I was ; and, with Miss Minna Lowe's image in my heart, went ovit and selected lodgings for myself as near as possible to her father's house. Wilder said I might go to — any place I liked ; he remained in his quarters at the hotel, as I found a couple of days afterwards, when I saw the fellow smoking at the gateway in the company of a score of Prussian officers, with whom he had made acquaintance. I for my part have never been famous for that habit of extem- poraneous friendship-making which some lucky fellows possess. Like most of my countrymen, when I enter a room I always take care to look about with an air as if I heartily despised every one, and wanted to know what the d — 1 they did there ! Among foreigners I feel this especially ; for the truth is, right or wrong, I can't help despising the rogues, and feeling manifestly my own superiority. In consequence of this amiable quality, then (in this particular instance of my life), I gave up the table-d'hfite dinner at the " Star " as something low and ungentlemanlike, made a point of staring and not answering when people spoke to me, and tlius I have no doubt impressed all the world with a sense of my dignity. Instead of dining at the public place, then, I took my repasts alone; though, as Wilder said with some justice, though with a good deal too much laisser-aller of tongue, " You gweat fool, if it'th only becauth you want to be thilent, why don't you thtill dine with nth? You'll get a wegidar good dinner inthtead of a bad one ; and ath for thpeaking to you, depend on it every man in the room will thee you hanged futht ! " " Pray allow me to dine in my own way, Wilder,'' says I, in the most dignified way. FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 297 " Dine and be d d ! " said the lieutenant, and so I lived solitary and had my own way. I proposed to take some German lessons ; and for this purpose asked the banker, Mr. Lowe, to introduce me to a master. He procured one, a gentleman of his own persuasion ; and, further, had the kindness to say that his clerk, Mr. Hirsch, should come and sit with me every morning and perfect me in the tongue ; so that, with the master I had and the society I kept, I might acquire a very decent German pronunciation. This Hirsch was a little Albino of a creature with pinkish eyes, white hair, flame-coloured whiskers, and earrings. His eyes jutted out enormously from his countenance, as did his two large swollen red lips, which had the true Israelitish coarseness. He was always, after a short time, in and out of my apartments. He brought a dozen messages and ran as many errands for me in the course of the day. My way of addressing him was, " Hirsch, you scoundrel, get my boots!" "Hirsch, my Levite, brush my coat for me!" " Eun, you stag of Israel, and put this letter in the post ! " and with many similar compliments. The little rascal was, to do him justice, as willing as possible, never minded by what name I called him, and, above all, — came from Minna. He was not the rose ; no, indeed, nor anything like it ; but, as the poet says, " he had lived beside it ; " and was there in all Sharon such a rose as Minna Lowe 1 If I did not write with a moral purpose, and because my unfortu- nate example may act wholesomely upon other young men of fashion, and induce them to learn wisdom, I should not say a single syllable about Minna Lowe, nor all the blunders I committed, nor the humiliation I suffered. There is about a young Englishman of twenty a degree of easy self-confidence, hardly possessed even by a Frenchman. The latter swaggers and bullies about his superiority, taking all opportunities to shriek it into your ears, and to proclaim the infinite merits of himself and his nation ; but, upon my word, the bragging of the Frenchman is not so conceited or intolerable as that calm, silent, contemptuous conceit of us young Britons, who think our superiority so well established that it is really not worth arguing upon, and who take upon us to despise thoroughly the whole world through which we pass. We are hated on the Continent, they say, and no wonder. If any other nation were to attempt to domineer over us as we do over Europe, we would hate them as heartily and furiously as many a Frenchman and Italian does us. Now when I went abroad I fancied myself one of the finest fellows under the sun. I patronised a banker's dinners as if I did 298 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS him honour in eating them ; I tools my place before grave professors and celebrated men, and talked vapid nonsense to them in infamous French, laughing heartily in return at their own manner of pro- nouncing that language. I set down as a point beyond question that their customs were inferior to our own, and would not in the least scruple, in a calm way, to let my opinion be known. What an agreeable young fellow I must have been ! With these opinions, and my pleasant way of expressing them, I would sit for hours by the side of lovely Minna Lowe, ridiculing, with much of that elegant satire for which the English are remark- able, every one of the customs of the country, — the dinners, with the absurd im-English pudding in the very midst of them ; the dresses of the men, with their braided coats and great seal-rings. As for little Hirsch, he formed the constant subject of my raillery with Mademoiselle Minna ; and I gave it as my fixed opinion, that he was only fit to sell sealing-wax and oranges to the coaches in Piccadilly. " fous afez tant d'esprit, fous autres jeunes Anglais,'' would she say ; and I said, " Oui, nous avons beauooup d'esprit, beaucoup plus que les Allemands," with the utmost simplicity; and' then would half close my eyes, and give her a look that I thought must kill her. Shall I tell the result of our conversation? In conversation 1, Minna asked me if I did not think the tea remarkably good, with which she and her sister treated me. She said it came over- land from China, that lier papa's coiTespondent at Petersburg for- warded it to them, and that no such tea was to be had in Germany. On this I seriously believed the tea to be excellent ; and next morning at breakfast little Hirsch walked smirking into my room, with a parcel of six pounds of Congo, for which I had the honour of paying eighteen Prussian thalers, being two pounds fourteen shillings of our money. The next time I called, Herr Moses insisted on regaling me with a glass of Cyprus wine. His brother Lowe of Constantinople was the only person in the world who possessed this precious liquor. Four days afterwards Lowe came to know how I liked the Cyprus wine which I had ordered, and would I like another dozen ? On saying that I had not ordered any, that I did not like sweet wine,- he answered, " Pardon ! " it had been in my cellar three days, and he would send some excellent Mddoc at a moderate price, and would take no refusal. A basket of M(^doc came that very night in my absence, with a bill directed to the " High Well-born Count von Fitz-Boodle." This excessive desire of the Lowe family to serve me made me relax my importunities somewhat. " All ! " says PITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 299 Minna, -with a sigh, the next time I saw her, " have we offended you, Herr George ? You don't come to see us any more now ! " " I'll come to-morrow," says I ; and she gave me a look and a smile which, oh ! — " I am a fool, I know I am ! " as the honourable member for Montrose said t'other day. And was not Samson ditto ? Was not Hercules another ? Next day she was seated at the vine- leaves as I entered the court. She smiled, and then retreated. She had been on the look-out for me, I knew she had. She held out her little hand to me as I came into the room. Oh, how soft it was and how round ! and with a little apricot-coloured glove that — that I have to this day ! I had been arranging a little compliment as I came along, something quite new and killing. I had only the heart to say, " Es ist sehr warm." "Oh, Herr George!" says she; " Lieber Herr George, what a progress have you made in German ! You speak it like a native ! " But somehow I preferred to continue the conversation in French ; and it was made up, as I am bound to say, of remarks equally brilliant and appropriate with that one above given. When old Lowe came in I was winding a skein of silk, seated in an enticing attitude, gazing with all my soul at Delilah, who held down her beautiful eyes. That day they did not sell me any bargains at all ; and the next found me, you may be very sure, in the same parlour again, where, in his schlafrock, the old Israelite was smoking his pipe. " Get away, papa," said Minna, " English lords can't bear smoke. I'm sure Herr George dislikes it." Indeed, I smoke occasionally myself," answered your humble servant. " Get his Lordship a pipe, Minna, my soul's darling ! " exclaimed the banker. " Oh yes ! the beautiful long Turkish one," cried Minna, spring- ing up, and presently returned bearing a long cherry-stick covered with a scarlet and gold cloth, at one end an enamelled amber mouthpiece, a gilded pipe at the other. In she came dancing, wand in hand, and looking like a fairy ! "Stop!" she said; "I must light it for Herr George." (By Jupiter ! there was a way that girl had of pronouncing my name, "George," which I never heard equalled before or since.) And accordingly, bidding her sister get fire, she put herself in the prettiest attitude ever seen : with one little foot put forward, and her head thrown back, and a little hand holding the pipe-stick between finger and thumb, and a pair of red lips kissing the amber mouthpiece with the sweetest smile ever mortal saw. Her sister, giggling. 300 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS lighted the tobacco, and presently you saw issuing from between those beautiful, smiling, red lips of Minna's a little curling, graceful white smoke, which rose soaring up to the ceiling. I swear, I felt quite faint with the fragrance of it. When the pipe was lighted, she brought it to me with quite as pretty an attitude and a glance that Psha ! I gave old Moses Lowe fourteen pounds sterling for that pipe that very evening ; and as for the mouthpiece, I would not part with it away from me, but I wrapped it up in a glove that I took from the table, and put both into my breast-pocket; and next morning when Charley Wilder burst suddenly into my room, he found me sitting up in bed in a green silk nightcap, a little apricot-coloured glove lying on the counterpane before me, your humble servant employed in mumbling the mouthpiece as if it were a bit of barley-sugar. He stopped, stared, burst into a shriek of laughter, and made a rush at the glove on the counterpane ; but, in a fury, I sent a large single-volumed Tom Moore (I am not a poetical man, but I miLst confess I was reading some passages in "Lalla Rookh" that I foimd applicable to my situation) — I sent, I say, a Tom Moore at his head, which, luckily, missed him; and to which he responded by seizing a bolster and thumping me outrageously. It was lucky that he was a good-natured fellow, and had only resorted to that harmless weapon, for I was in such a fury that I certainly would have murdered him at the least insult. I did not murder him then ; but if he peached a single word upon the subject, I swore I would, and Wilder knew I was a man of my word. He was not unaware of my tendre for Minna Liiwe, and was for passing some of his delicate light-dragoon jokes upon it and her ; but these, too, I sternly cut short. " Why, cuth me, if I don't think you want to mawwy her ! " blurted out Wilder. "Well, sir," said I, "and suppose I do?" " What ! mawwy the daughter of that thwindling old clothe- man? I tell you what, Fitth-Boodle, they alwayth thaid you were mad in the weg'ment, and, run me thwough, if I don't think you are." "The man," says I, "sir, who would address Mademoiselle Lowe in any but an honourable way is a scoundrel ; and the man who says a word against her character is a liar ! " After a little further parley (which Wilder would not have continued but that he wanted to borrow money of me), that gentleman retired, declaring that " I wath ath thulky ath a bear with a thaw head," and left me to my apricot-coloured glove and my amber mouthpiece. FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 301 Wilder's assertion that I was going to act up to opinions which I had always professed, and to marry Minna Lowe, certainly astounded me, and gave me occasion for thought. Marry the daughter of a Jew banker ! I, George Fitz-Boodle ! That would never do; not unless she had a million to her fortime, at least, and it was not probable that a humble dealer at Bonn could give her so much. But, marry her or not, I could not refrain from the sweet pleasure of falling in love with her, and shut my eyes to the morrow that I might properly enjoy the day. Shortly after Wilder's departure, little Hirsch paid his almost daily visit to me. I determined — and wondered that I had never thought of the scheme before — sagely to sound liim regarding Minna's for- tune, and to make use of him as my letter and message carrier. " Ah, Hirsch ! my lion of Judah ! " says I, " you have brought me the pipe-stick, have you 1 " " Yes, my Lord, and seven pounds of the tobacco you said you hked. 'Tis real Syrian, and a great bargain you get it, I promise." " Egad ! " replied I, affecting an air of much careless ingenuous- ness. " Do you know, Hirsch, my boy, that the yoimgest of the Miss Lowes — Miss Anna, I think you call her " " Minna," said Hirsch, with a grin. "Well, Minna — Minna, Hirsch, is a devilish fine girl; upon my sold now, she is." " Do you really think so 1 " says Hirsch. "'Pon my honour, I do. And yesterday, when she was lighting the pipe-stick, she looked so confoundedly handsome that I — I quite fell in love with her ; really I did." " Ho ! Veil, you do our people great honour, I'm sure," answered Hirsch. " Father a warm man t " " Varm ! How do you mean varm ? " " Why, rich. AVe call a rich man warm in England ; only you don't understand the language. How much will he give his daughter 1 " " Oh ! very little. Not a veek of your income, my Lord," said Hirsch. " Pooh, pooh ! You always talk of me as if I'm rich ; but I tell you I am poor — exceedingly poor." " Go away vid you ! " said Hirsch incredulously. " You poor ! I vish I had a year of your income ; that I do " (and I have no doubt he did, or of the revenue of any one else). " I'd be a rich man, and have de best house in Bonn." " Are you so very poor yourself, Hirsch, that you talk in this way 1 " asked I. 302. THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS To which the young Israelite replied, that he had not one dollar to rub against another ; that Mr. Lowe was a close man ; and finally (upon my pressing the point, like a cunning dog as I was !), that he would do anything to earn a little money. " Hirsch," said I, like a wicked young reprobate and Don Juan, " will you carry a letter to Miss Minna Lowe 1 " Now there was no earthly reason why I should have made a twopenny postman of Mr. Hirsch. I might with just as much ease have given Minna the letter myself. I saw her daily and for hours, and it would be hard if I could not find her for a minute alone, or at least slip a note into her glove or pocket-handkerchief, if secret the note must be. But, I don't mind owning it, I was as ignorant of any love-making which requires mystery as any bishop on the bench, and pitched upon Hirsch, as it were, because in comedies and romances that I had read the hero has always a go-between — a valet, or humble follower — who performs the intrigue of the piece. So I asked Hirsch the above question, "Would he carry a letter to Miss Minna Lowe 1 " "Give it me," said he, with a grin. But the deuce of it was, it wasn't written. Rosina, in the opera, has hers ready in her pocket, and says " Eccolo quk " when Figaro makes the same request, so I told Hirsch that I would get it ready. And a very hard task I found it too, in sitting down to compose the document. It shall be in verse, thought I, for Minna understands some English ; but there is no rhyme to Minna, as everybody knows, except a cockney, who might make " thinner, dinner, winner," &c., answer to it. And as for Lowe, it is just as bad. Then it became, as I thought, my painful duty to send her a note in French ; and in French finally it was composed, and I blush now when I think of the nonsense and bad grammar it con- tained — the conceit above all. The easy vulgar assurance of victory with which I, a raw lad from the stupidest country in Europe, assailed one of the most beautiful women in the world ! Hirsch took the letter, and to bribe the fellow to silence, I agreed to purchase a great hideous amethyst brooch, which he had offered me a dozen times for sale, and which I had always refused till now. He said it had been graciously received, but as all the family were present in the evening when I called, of course no allusion could be made to the note ; but I thought Minna looked particularly kind, as I sat and lost a couple of fredericks at ecartS to a very stout Israelite lady, Madame Lowe, junior, the wife of Monsieur Solomon Lowe. I think it was on this night, or the next, that I was induced to purchase a bale of remarkably fine lawn for shirts, for old Lowe had everything to sell, as is not uncommon FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 303 with men of his profession and persuasion ; and had I expressed a fancy for a coffin or a hod of mortar, I have no doubt Hirsch would have had it at my door next morning. I went on sending letters to Minna, copying them out of a useful little work called " Le Petit S^cr^taire Fran§ais," and easily adapting them to circumstances, by altering a phrase here and there. Day and night I used to dangle about the house. It was provoking, to be sure, that Minna was never alone now ; her sister or Madame Solomon was always with her, and as they naturally spoke German, of which language I knew but few words, my evenings were passed in sighing, ogling, and saying nothing. I must have been a very charming companion. One evening was pretty much like another. Four or five times in the week old Lowe would drop in and sell me a bargain. Berlin-iron chains and trinkets for my family at home, Naples soap, a case of eavrde- cologne ; a beautiful dressing-gown, lined with fur for the winter; a rifle, one of the famous Frankfort make ; a complete collection of the German classics ; and finally, to my awful disgust, a set of the Byzantine historians. I must tell you that, although my banking friend had furnished me with half a stone of Syrian tobacco from his brother at Constantinople, and though the most beautiful lips in the world had first taught me to smoke it, I discovered, after a few pipes of the weed, that it was not so much to my taste as that grown in the West Indies ; and as his Havannah cigars were also not to my liking, I was compelled, not without some scruples of conscience at my infidelity, to procure my smoking supplies elsewhere. And now I come to the fatal part of my story. Wilder, who was likewise an amateur of the weed, once came to my lodgings in the company of a tobacconist whom he patronised, and who brought several boxes and samples for inspection. Herr Rohr, which was the gentleman's name, sat down with us. His wares were very good, and — must I own it ? — I thought it would be a very clever and prudent thing on my part to exchange some of my rare Syrian against his canaster and Havannahs. I vaunted the quality of the goods to him, and, going into the inner room, returned with a packet of the real Syrian. Herr Rohr looked at the parcel rather con- temptuously, I thought. " I have plenty of these goods in my shop," said he. "Why, you don't thay tho," says Wilder, with a grin; "ith the weal wegular Thywian. My friend Fitth-Boodle got it from hith bankerth, and no luithtake ! " " Was it from Mr. Lowe ■? " says Rohr, with another provoking sneer. 304 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS "Exactly. His brother Israel sent it from Constantinople.'' " Bah ! " says Rohr. " I sold this very tobacco, seven pounds of it, at fourteen groschen a pound, to Miss Minna Lowe and little Mr. Hirsch, who came express to my shop for it. Here's my seal," says Mr. Rohr. And sure enough he produced, from a very fat and dirty forefinger, a seal, which bore the engraving on the packet. "You sold that to Miss Minna Lowe?" groaned poor George Fitz-Boodle. " Yes, and she bated me down half a gros in the price. Heaven help you, sir ! she always makes the bargains for her father. There's something so pretty about her that we can't resist her." " And do you thell wineth, too — Thypwuth and MMoc, hay ? " continued the brute Wilder, enjoying the joke. " No," answered Mr. Rohr, with another confounded sneer. " He makes those himself ; but I have some very fiiie MMoc and Greek wine, if his high well-born Lordship would like a few dozen. Shall I send a panier ? " " Leave the 7-oo7n, sir ! " here shouted I, in a voice of vmcontrol- lable ferocity, and looked so wildly that little Rohr rushed away in a fright, and Wilder burst into one of his demoniacal laughs again. " Don't you thee, my good fwiend," continued he, " how wegu- larly thethe people having been doing you "i I tell you their chawacterth are known all over the town. There'th not a thtudent in the place but can give you a hithtory of the family. Lowe ith an infarnal old uthuwer, and hith daughterth wegular mantwapth. At the Thtar, where I dine with the officerth of the garrithon, you and Minna are a thtandard joke. Captain Heerpauk wath caught himself for near six weekth ; young Von Twommel wath wemoved by hith fwiends ; old Colonel Blitz wath at one time tho nearly gone in love with the elder, that he would have had a divorce from hith lady. Among the thtudentth the mania hath been jutht the thame. Whenever one wath worth plucking, Lowe uthed to have him to hith houthe and wob him, until at latht the wathcal'th chawacter became tho well known, that the thtudentth in a body have detherted him, and you will find that not one of them will dance with hith daughterth, haudthome ath they are. Go down to Godesberg to-night and thee." " I ayn going," answered I ; " the young ladies asked me to drive down in their carriage ; " and I flung myself back on the sofa, and puffed away volumes of smoke, and tossed and tumbled the live- long day, with a horrible conviction that something of what Wilder had told me might be true, and with a vow to sacrifice, at least, one of the ofiicers who had been laughing at me. There they were, the scoundrels ! in their cursed tight frock- FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 305 ooats and hay-coloiu-ed mustachios, twirling round in the waltzes with the citizens' daughters, when, according to promise, I arrived with the Israelitish ladies at the garden at Godesberg, where dancing is cai'iied on twice or thrice in a week. There were the students, with their long pipes, and little caps, and long hair, tippling at the tables under the leaves, or dancing that absurd waltz which has always been the object of my contempt. The fact is, I am not a dancing man. Students and officers, I thought, every eye was looking at me, as I entered the garden with Miss Minna Lowe on my arm. Wilder tells me that I looked blue with rage, and as if I should cut the throat of any man I met. We had driven down in old Lowe's landau, the old gentleman himself acting as coachman, with Mr. Hirsch in his best clothes by his side. In the carriage came Madame Solomon, in yellow satin ; Miss Lowe, in light green (it is astonishing how persons of a light complexion will wear this detestable colour) ; Miss Minna was in white muslin, with a pair of black knit gloves on her beautiful arms, a pink riband round her delicate waist, and a pink scarf on her shoulders, for in those days — and the fashion exists still somewhat on the Ehine — it was the custom of ladies to dress themselves in what we call an evening costume for dinner-time ; and so was the lovely Minna attired. As I sat by her on the back seat, I did not say one single word, I confess, but looked unutterable things, and forgot in her beauty all the suspicions of the morning. I hadn't asked her to waltz — for, the fact is, I didn't know how to waltz, and so only begged her hand for a quadrille. We entered thus Mr. Blintzuer's garden as I have described, the men staring at us, the lovely Minna on my arm. I ordered refresh- ments for the party ; and we sat at a table near the boarded place where the people were dancing. No oije came up to ask Minna to waltz, and I confess I was not sorry for it — for I own to that dog- in-the-manger jealousy which is common to love — no one came but poor little Hirsch, who had been absent to get sandwiches for the ladies, and came up making his bow just as I was asking Minna whether she would give no response to my letters. She looked sur- prised, — looked at Hirsch, who looked at me, and laying his hand (rather familiarly) upon my arm, put the other paw to his great, red, blubber lips, as if enjoining silence ; and, without a word, carries oif Minna, and began twisting her round in the waltz. The little brute had assumed his best clothes for the occasion, He had a white hat and a pair of white gloves ; a green satin stock, with profuse studs, of jewels in his shirt ; a yellow waistcoat, with one of pink Cashmere underneath ; very short nankeen trousers, and 306 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS striped silk stockings ; and a swallow-tailed, short- waisted, light- brown coat, with brass buttons ; the tails whirled in the wind as he and his partner spun round to a very quick waltz — not without agility, I confess, on the little scoundrel's part — and oh, with what incomparable grace on Minna's ! The other waltzers cleared away, doubtless to look at her performance ; but though such a reptile was below my jealousy, I felt that I should have preferred to the sanie music to kick the little beast round the circle rather than see his hand encircling such a waist as that. They only made one or two turns, however, and came back. Minna was blushing very red, and very much agitated. " Will you take one turn, Fraulein Lisa 1 " said the active Hirsch ; and after a little to-do on the part of the elder sister, she got up, and advanced to the dancing place. What was my surprise when the people again cleared off, and left the pair to perform alone ! Hirsch and his partner enjoyed their waltz, however, and returned, looking as ill-humoured as possible. The band struck up presently a quadrille tune. I would not receive any of Minna's excuses. She did not wish to dance ; she was faint, — she had no vis-a-vis. " Hirsch," said I, with much courtesy, " take out Madame Solomon, and come and dance." We advanced, — big Mrs. Solomons and Hirsch, Minna and I, — Miss Lisa remaining with her papa over the Rhine wine and sandwiches. There were at least twenty couple, who were mustering to make a quadrille when we advanced. Minna blushed scarlet, and I felt her trembling on my arm ; no doubt 'twas from joy at dancing with the fashionable young Englander. Hirsch, with a low bow and scrape, led Madame Solomon opposite us, and put himself in the fifth position. It loas rather disgusting, certainly, for George Savage Fitz-Boodle to be dancing vis-a-vis with such an animal as that ! Mr. Hirsch clapped his hands with a knowing air, to begin. I looked up from Minna (what I had been whispering to her must not be concealed — in fact, I had said so previously, es ist sehr warm; but I said it with an accent that must have gone to her heart), — when I say I looked up from her lovely face, I found that every one of the other couple had retired, and that we four were left to dance the quadrille by ourselves ! Yes, by heavens ! it was so ! Minna, from being scarlet, turned ghastly pale, and would have fallen back had I not encircled her with my arm. " I'm ill," said she ; "let me go back to my father." "You Tnust dance," said I, and held up my clenched fist at Hirsch, who I thought would have moved off too ; on which the little fellow was compelled to stop. And so we four went through the quadrille. FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 307 The first figure seemed to me to last a hundred thousand years. I don't know how it was that Minna did not fall down and faint ; but gathering courage all of a sudden, and throwing a quick fierce look round about her, as if in defiance, and a frown which made my little angel for a moment look like a little demon, she went through the dance with as much gracefulness as a duchess. As for me, — at first the whole air seemed to be peopled with grinning faces, and I moved about almost choked with rage and passion. Then gradually the film of fury wore off, and I became wonderfully calm, — nay, had the leisure to look at Monsieur Hirsch, who per- formed all the steps with wonderful accuracy ; and at every one of the faces round about it, officers, students, and citizens. None of the gentlemen, probably, liked ray face, — for theirs wore, as I looked at them, a very grave and demure expression. But as Minna was dancing, I heard a voice behind her cry, sneeringly, " Brava ! " I turned quickly round, and caught the speaker. He turned very red, and so betrayed himself Our eyes met — it was a settled thing. There was no need of any further arrangement, and it -was then, as I have said, that the film cleared off; and I have to thank Captain Heerpauk for getting through the quadrille without an apoplexy. "Did you hear that — that voice, Herr George?" said Miss Minna, looking beseechingly in my face, and trembling on my arm, as I led her back to her father. Poor soul ! I saw it all at once. She loved me, — I knew she did, and trembled lest I should run into any danger. I stuttered, stammered, vowed I did not hear it ; at the same time swearing inwardly an oath of the largest dimen- sions, that I would cut the throat whence that " Brava" issued. I left my lady for a moment, and finding Wilder, pointed out the man to him. " Oh, Heerpauk," says he. " What do you want with him ? " " Charley," says I, with much heroism and ferocity, " /" want to shoot him; just tell him so." And when, on demurring, I swore I would go and pull the Captain's nose on the ground. Wilder agreed to settle the business for me ; and I returned to our party. It was quite clear that we could not stay longer in the gardens. Lowe's carriage was not to come for an hour yet; for the banker would not expend money in stabling his horses at the inn, and had accordingly sent them back to Bonn. What should we do 1 There is a ruined castle at Godesberg, which looks down upon the fair green plain of the Rhine, where Mr. Blintzner's house stands (and let the reader be thankful that I don't give a description of scenery here): there is, I say, a castle at Godesberg. "Explorons le shatto," 308 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPEES says I ; which elegant French Hirsch translated ; and this suggestion was adopted by the five Israelites, to the fairest of whom I offered my arm. The lovely Minna took it, and away we went ; Wilder, who was standing at the gate, giving me a nod, to say all was right. I saw him presently strolling up the hill after me, with a Prussian officer, with whom he was talking. Old Lowe was with his daughter, and as the old banker was infirm, the pair walked but slowly. Monsieur Hirsch had given his arm to Madame Solomon. She was a fat woman ; the consequence was that Minna and I were soon con- siderably ahead of the rest of the party, and were ascending the hill alone. I said several things to her, such as only lovers say. " Com il fay bo issy," says I, in the most insinuating way. No answer. "Es ist etwas kalt," even I continued, admirably varying my phrase. She did not speak ; she was agitated by the events of the evening, and no wonder. That fair round arm resting on mine, — that lovely crea.ture walking by my side in the calm moonlight, — the silver Ehine flashing before us, with Drachenfels and the Seven Mountains rising clear in the distance, — the music of the dance coming up to us from the plain below, — the path winding every now and then into the darkest foliage, and at the next moment giving us rich views of the moonlit river and plain below. Could any man but feel the influence of a scene so exquisitely lovely ? "Minna," says I, as she wouldn't speak, — "Minna, I love you; you have known it long, long ago, I know you have. Nay, do not withdraw your hand; your heart has spoken for me. Be mine then ! " and taking her hand, I kissed it rapturously, and should have proceeded to her cheek, no doubt, when she gave me a swinging box on the ear, started back, and incontinently fell Or screaming as loudly as any woman ever did. " Minna, Minna ! " I heard the voice of that cursed Hirsch shouting. "Minna, meine Oattin!" and he rushed up the hDl; and Minna flung herself in his arms, crying, " Lorenzo, my husband, save me ! " The Lowe family. Wilder, and his friend, came skurrying up the hill at the same time ; and we formed what in the theatres is called a tableau. " You coward ! " says Minna, her eyes flashing fire, " who could see a woman insulted, and never defend her ! " " You coward ! " roared Hirsch ; " coward as well as profligate ! You communicated to me your lawless love for this angel, — to me her affianced husband ; and you had the audacity to send her letters, not one of which, so help me Heaven, has been received. Yes, you will laugh at Jews, — will you, you brutal Englishman ? You wiU FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 309 insult our people, — will you, you stupid islander ? Psha ! I spit upon you ! " and here Monsieur Hirsch snapped his fingers in my face, holding Minna at the same time round the waist, who thus became the little monster's buckler. They presently walked away, and left me in a pleasant condition. I was actually going to fight a duel on the morrow for the sake of this fury, and it appeared that she had flung me off for cowardice. I had allowed myself to be swindled by her father, and insulted by her filthy little bridegroom, and for what 1 All the consolation I got from Wilder was — "I told you tho, my boy, but you wouldn't lithn, you gweat thoopid blundewing ignowamuth ; and now I shall have to thee you shot and buwied to-mowow ; and I dare thay you won't even remember me in your will. Captain Sohlager," continued he, presenting me to his companion, " Mr. Fitz-Boodle ; the Captain acts for Heerpauk in the morning, and we were just talking matters over, when Webecca yonder quied out, and we found her in the armth of Bwian de Bois-Guilbert here." Captain Schlager was a little, social, good-humoured man, with a mustachio of straw and silver mixed, and a brilliant purple sabre- cut across a rose-coloured nose. He had the iron cross at his buttonhole, and looked, as he was, a fierce little fighter. But he was too kind-hearted to allow of two boys needlessly cutting each other's throats ; and much to the disappointment of Wilder, doubt- less, who had been my second in the Martingale affair, and enjoyed no better sport, he said, in English, laughing, " Veil, make your mint easy, my goot young man, I tink you af got into enough sgrabes about dis tam Shewess ; and dat you and Heerpauk haf no need to blow each other's brains off." " Ath for Fitth apologithing," burst out Wilder, " that'th out of the quethtion. He gave the challenge, you know ; and how the dooth ith he to apologithe now ? " " He gave the challenge, and you took it, and you are de greatest fool of de two. I say the two young men shall not fight ; " and then the honest Captain entered into a history of the worthy family of Israel, which would have saved me at least fifty pounds had I known it sooner. It did not differ in substance from what Rohr and Wilder had both told me in the morning. The venerable Lowe was a great thief and extortioner ; the daughters were employed as decoy-ducks, in the first place, for the University and the garrison, and afterwards for young strangers, such as my wise self, who visited the place. There was some very sad story about the elder Miss Lowe and a tutor from St. John's College, Cambridge, who came to Bonn on a reading toiu- ; but I am not at SIO THE PITZ-BOODLE PAPERS liberty to set down here the particulars. And with regard to Minna, there was a still more dismal history. A fine handsome young student, the pride of the University, had first ruined himself through the offices of the father, and then shot himself for love of the daughter ; from which time the whole town had put the family into Coventry ; nor had they appeared for two years in public until upon the present occasion with me. As for Monsieur Hirsch, he did not care. He was of a rich Frankfort family of the people, serving his apprenticeship with Lowe, a cousin, and the destined husband of the younger daughter. He traded as much as he could on his own account, and would run upon any errand, and buy or sell anything for a consideration. And so, instead of fighting Captain Heerpauk, I agreed, willingly enough, to go back to the hotel at Godesberg, and shake hands with that officer. The reconf-.iliation, or, rather, the acquaintance between us, was effected over a bottle of wine, at Mr. Blintzner's hotel ; and we rode comfortably back in a droskey together to Bonn, where the friendship was still more closely cemented by a supper. At the close of the repast, Heerpauk made a speech on England, fatherland, and German truth and love, and kindly saluted me with a kiss, which is at any lady's service who peruses this little narrative. As for Mr. Hirsch, it must be confessed, to my shame, that the next morning a gentleman having the air of an old-clothes-man oflf duty presented me with an envelope, containing six letters of my composition addressed to Miss Minna Lowe (among them was a little poem in English, which has since called tears from the eyes of more than one lovely girl) ; and, furthermore, a letter from him- self, in which lie. Baron Hirsch, of Hirschenwald (the scoundrel, like my friend Wilder, purchased his title in the " Awthtwian Thervith ") in which he, I say. Baron Hirsch, of Hirschenwald, challenges me for insulting Miss Minna Lowe, or demands an apology. This, I said, Mr. Hirsch might have whenever he chose to come and fetch it, poiuting to a horsewhip which lay in a corner ; but that he must come early, as I proposed to quit Bonn the next morning. The Baron's friend, hearing this, asked whether I would like some remarkably fine cigars for my excm-sion, which he could give me a great bargain'? He was then shown to the door by my body-servant; nor did Hirsch von Hirschenwald come for the apology. Twice every year, however, I get a letter from him, dated Frankfort, and proposing to make me a present of a splendid palace in Austria or Bohemia, or two hundred thousand florins, should I prefer money. I saw his lady at Frankfort only last year. FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 311 in a front box at the theatre, loaded with diamonds, and at least sixteen stone in weight. Ah ! Minna, Minna ! thou mayest grow to be as ugly as sin, and as fat as Daniel Lambert, but I have the amber mouthpiece still, and swear that the prettiest lips in Jewry have kissed it ! The MS. here concludes with a rude design of a young lady smoking a pipe. DOROTHEA BEYOND sparring and cricket, I do not recollect I learned anything useful at Slaughter House School, where I was educated (according to an old family tradition, which sends particular generations of gentlemen to particular schools in the kingdom ; and such is the force of habit, that thougli I hate the place, I shall send my own sou thither too, should I marry any day). . I say I learned little that was useful at Slaughter House, and nothing that was ornamental. I would as soon have thought of learning to dance as of learning to climb chimneys. Up to the age of seventeen, as I have shown, I had a great contempt for the female race, and when age brought with it warmer and juster senti- ments, where was 1 1 — I could no more dance nor prattle to a young girl than a young bear could. I have seen the ugliest little low-bred wretches carrying off young and lovely creatures, twirling with them in waltzes, whispering between their glossy curls in quadrilles, sim- pering with perfect equanimity, and cutting ^os in that abominable "cavalier seul," until my soul grew sick with fury. In a word, I determined to learn to dance. But such things are hard to be acquired late in life, when the bones and the habits of a man are formed. Look at a man in a hunting-field who has not been taught - to ride as a boy. All the pluck and courage in the world will not make the man of him that I am, or as any man who has had the advantages of early education in the field. In the same way with dancing. Though I went to work with immense energy, both in Brewer Street, Golden Square (with an advertising fellow), and afterwards with old Coulon at Paris, I never was able to be easy in dancing ; and though little Coulon instructed me in a smile, it was a cursed forced one, that looked like the grin of a person in extreme agony. I once caught sight of it in a glass, and have hardly ever smiled since. Most young men about London have gone through that strange secret ordeal of the dancing-school. I am given to understand that young snobs from attorneys" offices, banks, shops, and the like, make not the least mystery of their proceedings in the saltatory line, but FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 313 trip gaily, with pumps in hand, to some dancing-place about Soho, waltz and quadrille it with Miss Greengi-ocer or Miss Butcher, and fancy they have had rather a pleasant evening. There is one house in Dover Street, where, behind a dirty curtain, such figures may be seen hopping every night, to a perpetual fiddling ; and I have stood sometimes wondering in the street, with about six blackguard boys wondering too, at the strange contortions of the figures jumping up and down to the mysterious squeaking of the kit. Have they no shame ces gens ? are such degrading initiations to be held in public 1 No, the snob may, but the man of refined mind never can submit to show himself in public labouring at the apprenticeship of this most absurd art. It is owing, perhaps, to this modesty, and the fact that I had no sisters at home, that I have never thoroughly been able to dance ; for though I always arrive at the end of a quadrille (and thank Heaven for it too !) and though, I believe, I make no mistake in particulai', yet I solemnly confess I have never been able thoroughly to comprehend the mysteries of it, or what I have been about from the beginning to the end of the dance. I always look at the lady opposite, and do as she does : if she did not know how to dance, par hasard, it would be all up. But if they can't do anything else, women can dance : let us give them that praise at least. In London, then, for a considerable time, I used to get up at eight o'clock in the morning, and pass an hour alone with Mr. Wilkinson, of the Theatres Eoyal, in Golden Square : — an hour alone. It was "one, two, three; one, two, three — now jump — right foot more out, Mr. Smith ; and if you could try and look a little more cheerful, your partner, sir, would Uke you hall the better." Wilkinson called me Smith, for the fact is, I did not telliim my real name, nor (thank Heaven 1) does lie know it to this day. I never breathed a word of my doings to any soul among my friends ; once a pack of them met me in the strange neighbourhood, when, I am ashamed to say, I muttered something about a " little French milliner," and walked ofi', looking as knowing as I could. In Paris, two Cambridge men and myself, who happened to be staying at a boarding-house together, agreed to go to Coulon, a little creature of four feet high with a pigtail. His room was hung round with glasses. He made us take off our coats, and dance each before a mirror. Once he was standing before us playing on his kit— the sight of the little master and the pupil was so supremely ridiculous, that I burst into a yell of laughter, which so offended the old man that he walked away abruptly, and begged me not to repeat my visits. Nor did I. I was just getting into waltzing then, but determined to drop waltzing, and content myself with quadrilling for the rest of my days. 314 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS This was all very well in France and England ; but in Germany what was I to do? What did Hercules do when Omphale capti- vated him? What did Rinaldo do when Armida fixed upon him her twinkling eyes ? Nay, to cut all historical instances short, by going at once to the earliest, what did Adam do when Eve tempted him 1 He yielded and became her slave ; and so I do heartily trust every honest man will yield until the end of the world — he has no heart who will not. When I was in Germany, I say, I began .to learn to waltz. The reader from this will no doubt expect that some new love-adventures befell me — nor will his gentle heart be disappointed. Two deep and tremendous incidents occurred which shall be notified on the present occasion. The reader, perhaps, remembers the brief appearance of his Highness the Duke of Kalbsbraten-Pumpernickel at B House, in the first part of my Memoirs, at that unlucky period of my life when the Duke was led to remark the odour about my clothes which lost me the hand of Mary M'Alister. I somehow found myself in his Highness's territories, of which anybody may read a description in the Almanack de Gotha. His Highness's father, as is well known, married Emilia Kunegunda Thomasina Charleria Emanuela Louisa Georgina, Princess of Saxe-Pumpernickel, and a cousin of his Highness the Duke. Thus the two principalities were united under one happy sovereign in the person of Philibert Sigismund Emanuel Maria, the reigning Duke, who has received from his country (on account of the celebrated pump which he erected in the market- place of Kalbsbrateu) the well-merited appellation of the Magnificent. The allegory which the statues round about the pump represent, is of a very ^lysterious and complicated sort. Minerva is observed leading up Ceres to a river-god, who has his arms round the neck of Pomona ; while Mars (in a full-bottomed wig) is driven away by Peace, under whose mantle two lovely children, representing the Duke's two provinces, repose. The celebrated Speck is, as need scarcely be said, the author of this piece ; and of other magnificent edifices in the Residenz, such as the guard-room, the skittle-hall {Grossherzoglich Kalhsb^'atenpumpernichelisch SchkiUelspielsaaf), &c., and the superb sentry-boxes before the Grand-Ducal Palace. He is Knight Grand Cross of the ancient Kartoffel Order, as, indeed, is almost every one else in his Highness's dominions. The town of Kalbsbraten contains a population of two thousand inhabitants, and a palace which would accommodate about six times that number. The principality sends three and a half men to the German Confederation, who are commanded by a General (Excel- lency), two Major-Generals, and sixty-four oflicers of lower grades ; all noble, all knights of the Order, and almost all chamberlains to FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 315 his Highness the Grand Duke. An excellent band of eighty per- formers is the admiration of the surrounding country, and leads the Grand-Ducal troops to battle in time of war. Only three of the contingent of soldiers returned from the Battle of Waterloo, where they won much honour ; the remainder was cut to pieces on that glorious day. There is a chamber of representatives (which, however, nothing can induce to sit), home and foreign ministers, residents from neigh- bouring courts, law presidents, town councils, &c., all the adjuncts of a big or little government. The Court has its chamberlains and marshals, the Grand Duchess her noble ladies in waiting and blush- ing maids of honour. Thou wert one, Dorothea ! Dost remember the poor young Englander ? We parted in anger ; but I think — I think thou hast not forgotten him. The way in which I have Dorothea von Speck present 'to my mind is this : not as I first saw her in the garden — for her hair was in bandeaux then, and a large Leghorn hat with a deep riband covered half her fair face, — not in a morning-dress, which, by the way, was none of the newest nor the best made — but as I saw her afterwards at a ball at the pleasant splendid little Court, where she moved the most beautiful of the beauties of Kalbsbraten. The grand saloon of the palace is lighted — the Grand Duke and his officers, the Duchess and her ladies, have passed through. I, in my uniform of the — th, and a number of young fellows (who are evidently admiring my legs and envying my distingu^ appear- ance), are waiting round the entrance-door, where a huge Hey- duke is standing, and announcing the titles of the guests as they arrive. " Here Obeehof- und Bau-Inspektoe von Speck ! " shouts the Heyduke ; and the little Inspector comes in. His lady is on his arm — huge, in towering plumes, and her favourite costume of light blue. Fair women always dress in light blue or light green ; and Frau von Speck is very fair and stout. But who comes behind her ? Lieber Himmel ! It is Dorothea ! Did earth, among all the flowers which have spnmg from its bosom, produce ever one more beautiful ? She was none of your heavenly beauties, I teU you. She had nothing ethereal about her. No, sir; she was of the earth earthy, and must have weighed ten stone four or five, if she weighed an ounce. She had none of your Chinese feet, nor waspy unhealthy waists, which those may admire who will. No : Dora's foot was a good stout one ; you could see her ankle (if her robe was short enough) without the aid of a microscope ; and that envious little sour skinny Amalia von Mangelwiirzel used to hold up her four fingers and say (the two 316 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS girls were most intimate friends of course), " Dear Dorothea's vaist is so much clicker as dis." And so I have no doubt it was. But what then ? Goethe sings in one of his divine epigrams : — " Epicures vaunting their ta-ste, entitle me vulgar and savage : Give them their Brussels-sprouts, but I am contented with cabbage.'' I hate your little women — that is, when I am in love with a tall one ; and who would not have loved Dorothea 1 Fancy her, then, if you please, about five feet four inches high — fancy her in the family colour of light blue, a httle scarf covering the most brilliant shoulders in the world; and a pair of gloves clinging close round an arm that may, perhaps, be somewhat too large now, but that Juno might have envied then. After the fashion of young ladies on the Continent, she wears no jewels or gimcracks : her only ornament is a ^iTeath of vine-leaves in her hair, with little clusters of artificial grapes. Down on her shoulders falls the brown hair, in rich liberal clusters ; aU that health, and good-humour, and beauty can do for the face, kind nature has done for hers. Her eyes are frank, sparkling, and kind. As for her cheeks, what paint- box or dictionary contains pigments or words to describe their red ? They say she opens her mouth and smiles always to show the dimples in her cheeks. Psha ! she smiles because she is happy, and kind, and good-humoured,' and not because her teeth are little pearls. All the young fellows crowd up to ask her to dance, and, taking from her waist a little mother-of-pearl remembrancer, she notes them down. Old Schnabel for the polonaise ; Khngenspohr, first waltz ; Haarbart, second waltz ; Count Hornpieper (the Danish envoy), third ; and so on. I have said why / could not ask her to waltz, and I turned away with a pang, and played Scart4 with Colonel Trumpenpack all night. In thus introducing this lovely creature in her ball-costume, I have been somewhat premature, and had licst go back to the beginning of the history of my acquaintance with her. Dorothea, then, was the daughter of the celebrated Speck before mentioned. It is one of the oldest names in Germany, where her father's and mother's houses, those of Speck and Eyre, are loved wherever they are known. Unlike his warlike progenitor, Lorenzo von Speck, Dorothea's father, had early shown himself a passionate admirer of art ; had quitted home to study architecture in Italy, and had become celebrated throughout Europe, and been appointed Ober- hofarchitect and Kunst- uud Bau-Inspektor of the united principalities. They are but four miles wide, and his genius has consequently but little room to play. What art can do, however, he does. ' The FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS Sl7 palace is frequently -whitewashed under his eyes ; the theatre painted occasionally ; the noble public buildings erected of which I have already made mention. I had come to Kalbsbraten, scarce knowing whither I went ; and having, in about ten minutes, seen the curiosities of the place (I did not care to see the King's palace, for chairs and tables have no great charm for me), I had ordered horses, and wanted to get on I cared not whither, when Fate threw Dorothea in my way. I was yawning back to the hotel through the palace-garden, a valet-de-place at my side, when I saw a young lady seated under a tree reading a uo^el, her mamma on the same bench (a fat woman in light blue) knitting a stocking, and two officers, choked in their stays, with various orders on their spinach-coloured coats, standing by in first attitudes : the one was caressing the fat lady-in-blue's little dog ; the other was twirling his own moustache, which was already as nearly as possible curled into his own eye. I don't know how it is, but I hate to see men evidently intimate with nice-looking women, and on good terms with themselves. There's something annoying in their cursed complacency — their evident sun- shiny happiness. I've no woman to make sunshine for me ; and yet my heart tells me that not one, but several sucli suns, would do good to my system. " Who are those pert-looking officers,'' says I, peevishly, to the guide, " who are talking to those vulgar-looking women % " " The big one, with the epaulets, is Major von Schnabel ; the little one, with the pale face, is Stiefel von Klingenspohr." " And the big blue woman 1 " " The Grand - Ducal Pumpernickelian - Court - architeotress and Upper-Palace-and-building-Inspectress von Speck, born von Eyer," replied the guide. " Your well-born honour has seen the pump in the market-place ; that is the work of the great Von Speck." " And yonder young person 1 " "Mr. Court-architect's daughter, the Fraulein Dorothea." Dorothea looked up from her novel here, and turned her face towards the stranger who was passing, and then blushing turned it down again. Schnabel looked at me with a scowl, Klingenspohr with a simper, the dog with a yelp, the fat lady in blue just gave one glance, and seemed, I thought, rather well pleased. " Silence, Lischen ! " said she to the dog. " Go on, darling Dorothea," she added, to her daughter, who continued her novel. Her voice was a little tremulous, but very low and rich. For some reason or otlier, on getting back to the inn, I countermanded the horses, and said I would stay for the night. 318 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS I not only stayed that night, but many, many afterwards ; and as for the manner in which I became acquainted with the Speck family, why, it was a good joke against me at the time, and I did not like then to have it known ; but now it may as well come out at once. Speck, as everybody knows, lives in the market-place, opposite his grand work of art, the town pump, or fountain. I bought a large sheet of paper, and, having a knack at drawing, sat down, with xhe greatest gravity, before the pump, and sketched it for several hours. I knew it would bring out old Speck to see. At first he contented himself by flattening his nose against the window- glasses of his study, and looking what the Englander was about. Then he put on his grey cap with the huge green shade, and sauntered to the door : then he walked round me, and formed one of a band of street-idlers who were looking on : then at last he could restrain himself no more, but, pulling off his cap, with a low bow, began to discourse upon arts, and architecture in particular. " It is curious," says he, " that you have taken the same view of which a print has been engraved." " That is extraordinary," says I (though it wasn't, for I had traced my drawing at a window off the very print in question). I added that I was, like all the world, immensely struck with the beauty of the edifice ; heard of it at Rome, where it was considered to be superior to any of the celebrated fountains of that capital of the fine arts ; finally, that unless perhaps the celebrated fountain of Aldgate in London might compare with it, Kalbsbraten building, except in that case, was incomparable. This speech I addressed in French, of which the worthy Hof- architect understood somewhat, and continuing to reply in German, our conversation gi-ew pretty close. It is -singular that I can talk to a man and pay him compliments with the utmost gravity, whereas, with a woman, I at once lose all self-possession, and have never said a pretty thing in my life. My operations on old Speck were so conducted, that in a quarter of an hour I had elicited from him an invitation to go over the town with him, and see its architectural beauties. So we walked through the huge half-furnished chambers of the palace, we panted up the copper pinnacle of the church-tower, we went to see the Museum and Gymnasium, and coming back into the market-place again, what could the Hofarchitect do but offer me a glass of wine and a seat in his house t He introduced me to his Gattinn, his Leocadia (the fat woman in blue), "as a young world-observer, and worthy art-friend, a young scion of British Adel, who had come to refresh himself at the Urquellen of his race, and see his brethren of the great family of Hermann." FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 319 I saw instantly that the old fellow was of a romantic turn,' from this rodomontade to his lady : nor was she a whit less so ; nor was Dorothea less sentimental than her mamma. She knew everything regarding the literature of Albion, as she was pleased to call it; and asked me news of all the famous writers there. I told her that Miss Edgeworth was one of the loveliest young beauties at our Court ; I described to her Lady Morgan, herself as beautiful as the wild Irish girl she drew ; I promised to give her a signature of Mrs. Hemans (which I wrote for her that very evening) ; and described a fox-hunt, at which I had seen Thomas Moore and Samuel Eogers, Esquires ; and a boxing-match, in which ' the athletic author of " Pelham " was pitted against the hardy mountain bard, Words- worth. You see my education was not neglected, for though I have never read the works of the above-named ladies and gentlemen, yet I knew their names well enough. Time passed away. I, perhaps, was never so brilliant in con versation as when excited by the Assmannshauser and the brilliant eyes of Dorothea that day. She and her parents had dined at their usual heathen hour ; but I was, I don't care to own it, so smitten, that for the first time in my life I did not even miss the meal, and talked on until six o'clock, when tea was served. Madame Speck said they always drank it ; and so placing a teaspoonful of bohea in a caldron of water, she placidly handed out this decoction, which we took with cakes and tartines. I leave you to imagine how disgusted KMngenspohr and Schnabel looked when they stepped in as usual that evening to make their party of whist with the Speck family ! Down they were obHged to sit ; and the lovely Dorothea, for that night, declined to play altogether, and — sat on the sofa by me. What we talked about, who shall tell 1 I would not, for my part, break the secret of one of those delicious conversations, of which I and every man in his time have held so many. You begin, very probably, about the weather — ^'tis a common subject, but what sentiments the genius of Love can fling into it ! I have often, for my part, said to the girl of my heart for the time being, " It's a fine day," or, "It's a rainy morning," in a way that has brought tears to her eyes. Something beats in your heart, and twangle ! a corresponding string thrills and echoes in hers. You offer her anything — her knitting-needles, a slice of bread-and-butter — what causes the grateful blush with which she accepts the one or the other? Why, she sees your heart handed over to her upon the needles, and the bread-and-butter is to her a sandwich with love inside it. If you say to your grandmother, " Ma'am, it's a fine day," or what not, she would find in the words no other meaning than their outward and visible one ; but say so to the girl you love, 320 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS and she understands a thousand mystic meanings in them. Thus, in a word, though Dorothea and I did not, probably, on the first night of our meeting, talk of anything more than the weather, or trumps, or some subjects which to such listeners as Schnabel and KKngenspohr and others might appear quite ordinary, yet to -us they had a different signification, of which Love alone held the key. Without further ado then, after the occurrences of that evening, I determined on staying at Kalbsbraten, and presenting my card the next day to the Hof-Marshal, requesting to have the honour of being presented to his Highness the Prince, at one of whose Court- balls my Dorothea appe'ared as I have described her. It was summer when I first arrived at Kalbsbraten. The little Court was removed to Siegmundslust, his Highness's country-seat : no balls were taking place, and, in consequence, I held my own with Dorothea pretty well. I treated her admirer. Lieutenant Klingen- spohr, with perfect scorn, had a manifest advantage over Major Schnabel, and used somehow to meet the fair one every day, walking in company with her mamma in the palace garden, or sitting under the acacias, with Belotte in her mother's lap, and the favourite romance beside her. Dear, dear Dorothea ! what a number of novels she must have read in heir time ! She confessed to me that she had been in love with Uncas, with Saint Preux, with Ivanhoe, and with hosts of German heroes of romance ; and when I asked her if she, whose heart was so tender towards imaginary youths, had never had a preference for any one of her living adorers, she only looked, and blushed, and sighed, and said nothing. You see I had got on as well as a man could do, until the con- founded Court season and the balls began, and then, — why, then came my usual luck. Waltzing is a part of a German girl's life. With the best will in the world — which, I doubt not, she entertains for me, for I never put the matter of marriage directly to her — Dorothea could not go to balls and not waltz. It was madness to me to see her whirling round the room with oflScers, attaches, prim little chamberlains with gold keys and embroidered coats, her hair floating in the wind, her hand reposing upon the abominable little dancer's epaulet, her good- humoured face lighted up with still greater satisfaction. I saw that I must learn to waltz too, and took my measures accordingly. The leader of the ballet at the Kalbsbraten theatre in my time was Springbock from Vienna. He had been a regular Zephyr once, 'twas said, in his younger days ; and though he is now fifteen stone weight, I can, hdas ! recommend him conscientiously as a master ; and I determined to take some lessons from him in the art which I had neglected so foolishly in early life. FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 321 It may be said, without vanity, that I was an apt pupil, and in the course of half-a-dozen lessons I had arrived at very considerable agility in the waltzing line, and could twirl "round the room with him at such a pace as made the old gentleman pant again, and hardly left him breath enough to puff out a compliment to his pupU. I may say, that in a single week I became an expert waltzer ; but as I wished, when I came out publicly in that character, to be quite sure of myself, and as I had hitherto practised not with a lady, but with a very fat old man, it was agreed that he should bring a lady of his acquaintance to perfect me, and accordingly, at my eighth lesson, Madame Springbock herself came to the dancing-room, and the old Zephyr performed on the violin. If any man ventures the least sneer with regard to this lady, or dares to insinuate anything disrespectful to her or myself, I say at once that he is an impudent calumniator. Madame Springbock is old enough to be my grandmother, and as ugly a woman as I ever saw ; but, though old, she was passionnee pour la danse, and not having (on account, doubtless, of her age and unprepossessing appearance) many opportunities of indulging in her favourite pastime, made up for lost time by immense activity whenever she could get a partner. In vain, at the end of the hour, would Springbock exclaim, " Amalia, my soul's blessing, the time is up ! " " Play on, dear Alphonso ! " would the old lady exclaim, whisking me round ; and though I had not the least pleasure in such a homely partner, yet, for the sake of perfecting myself, I waltzed and waltzed with her, until we were both half dead with fatigue. At the end of three weeks I could waltz as well as any man in Germany. At the end of four weeks there was a grand ball at Court in honoiu' of H.H. the Prince of Dummerland and his Princess, and then I determined I would come out in public. I dressed myself with unusual care and splendour. My hair was curled and my moustache dyed to a nicety; and of the four hundred gentlemen present, if the girls of Kalbsbraten did select one who wore an English hussar uniform, why should I disguise the fact ? In spite of my silence, the news had somehow got abroad, as news will in such small towns, — Herr von Fitz-Boodle was coming out in a waltz that evening. His Highness the Duke even made an allusion to the circumstance. When on this eventful night, I went, as usual, and made him my bow in the presentation, " Vous, monsieur," said he — "vous qui etes si jeune, devez aimer la danse." I blushed as red as my trousers, and bowing went away. I stepped up to Dorothea. Heavens ! how beautiful she looked ! and how archly she smiled as, with a thumping heart, I 4 " X 322 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS asked her luuid for a tvaltz I She took out her little mother-of- pearl (laneing-book, she wrote down my name with her pencil : we were engaged for the* fourth waltz, and till then I left her to other partners. Who says that his first waltz is not a nervous moment 1 I vow I was more excited than by any duel I ever fought. I would not dance auy contre-dcunse or galop. I repeatedly went to the buffet and got glasses of pvmch (dear simple Germany ! 'tis with rum-punch and egg-ffip thy children strengthen themselves for the dance !) I went into the ballroom and looked — the couples bounded before me, the music clashed and rang in my ears — all was fiery, feverish, indistinct. The gleaming white columns, the polished oaken floors in which the innumerable tapers were reflected — all together swam before my eyes, and I was at a pitch of madness almost when the fourth waltz at length came. " Will you dance with your sword on 1" said the sweetest voice in the world. I blushed, and stammered, and trembled, as I laid down that weapon and my cap, and hark ! the music began ! Oh, how my hand trembled as I placed it round the waist of Dorothea ! With my left hand I took her right — did she squeeze it? I think she did — to this day I think she did. Away we went ! we tripped over the polished oak floor like two young fiiiries. " Courage, monsieur," said she, with her sweet smile. Then it was "Trfes bien, monsieur." Then I heard the voices humming and buzzing about. " II danse bien, I'Anglais," " Ma foi, oui," says another. On we went, twirling and twisting, and turning and whirling ; couple after couple dropped panting off. Little Klingen- spohr himself was obliged to give in. All eyes were upon us — we were going round alone-. Dorothea was almost exhausted, when ******* I have been sitting for two hours since I marked the asterisks, thinking — thinking. I have committed crimes in my life — who hasn't 1 But talk of remorse, what remorse is there like that which rushes up in a flood to my brain sometimes when I am alone, and causes me to blush when I'm abed in the dark ? I fell, sir, on that infernal slippery floor. Down we came like shot ; we rolled over and over in the midst of the ballroom, the music going ten miles an hour, eight hundred pairs of eyes fixed upon us, a ciu-sed shriek of laughter bursting out from all sides. Heavens ! how clear I heard it, as we went on rolling and rolling ! " My child ! my Dorothea ! " shrieked out Madame Speck, rushing forward, and as soon as she had breath to do so, Dorothea of course screamed too; then she fainted, then she was disentangled from FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 323 out my spurs, and borne off by a bevy of tittering women. " Chimsy brute ! " said Madame Speck, turning her fat back upon me. I remained upon my sdant, wild, ghastly, looking about. It was all up with me — I knew it was. I wished I could have died there, and I wish so still. Klingenspohr married her, that is the long and short; but before that event I placed a sabre-cut across the young scoundrel's nose, which destroyed his beauty for ever. Dorothea ! you can't forgive me — you oughtn't to forgive me ; but I love you madly stUl. My next flame was Ottilia: but let us keep her for another number ; my feelings overpower me at present. OTTILIA CHAPTER I THE ALBUM— THE MEDITERRANEAN HEATH TRAVELLING some little time back in a wild part of Oonne- mara, where I had been for fishing and seal-shooting, I had the good luck to get admission to the chateau of a hospi- table Irish gentleman, and to procure some news of my once dear Ottilia. Yes, of no other than Ottilia v. Schlippenschlopp, the Muse of Kalbsbraten-Pumpemickel, the friendly little town far away in Saehsenland, — where old Speck built the town pump, where Klin- genspohr was slashed across the nose, — where Dorothea roUed over and over in that horrible waltz with Fitz-Boo Psha ! — away with the recollection : but wasn't it strange to get news of Ottilia in the wildest corner of Ireland, where I never should have thought to hear her gentle name ? Walking on that very TJrrisbeg Mountain under whose shadow I heard Ottilia's name, Mackay, the learned author of the " Flora Patlandica," discovered the Mediterranean heath, — such a flower a« I have often plucked on the sides of Vesuvius, and as Proserpine, no doubt, amused herself in gathering as she strayed in the fields of Enna. Here it is — the self-same flower, peering out at the Atlantic from Roundstone Bay ; here, too, in this wild lonely place, nestles the fragrant memory of my Ottilia! In a word, after a day on Ballylynch Lake (where, with a brown fly and a single hair, I killed fourteen salmon, the smallest twenty-nine pounds weight, the largest somewhere about five stone ten), my young friend Blake Bodkin Lynch Browne (a fine lad who has made his Continental tour) and I adjourned, after dinner, to the young gentleman's private room, for the purpose of smoking a certain cigar; which is never more pleasant than after a hard day's sport, or a day spent indoors, or after a good dinner, or a bad one, or at night when you are tired, or in the morning when you are fresh, or of a cold winter's day, or of a scorching summer's after- noon, or at any other moment you choose to fix upon. FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 325 What should I see in Blake's room but a rack of pipes, such as are to be found in almost all the bachelors' rooms in Germany, and amongst them was a porcelain pipe-head bearing the image of the Kalbsbraten pump ! There it was : the old spout, the old familiar allegory of Mars, Bacchus, Apollo virorum, and the rest, that I had so often looked at from Hofarchitect Speck's window, as I sat there by the side of Dorothea. The old gentleman had given me one of these very pipes; for he had hundi-eds of them painted, wherewith he used to gratify almost every stranger who came into his native town. Any old place with which I have once been familiar (as, perhaps, I have before stated in these " Confessions " — but never mind that) is in some sort dear to me : and were I Lord Shootingcastle or Colonel Popland, I think after a residence of six months there I should love the Fleet Prison. As I saw the old familiar pipe, I took it down, and crammed it with Cavendish tobacco, and lay down on a sofa, and puffed away for an hour well-nigh, thinking of old old times. "You're very entertaining to-night, Fitz," says young Blake, who had made several tumblers of punch for me, which I had gulped down without saying a word. " Don't ye think ye'd be more easy in bed than snorting and ^sighing there on my sofa, and groaning fit to make me go hang myself 'J " "I am thinking, Blake," says I, "about Pumpernickel, where old Speck gave you this pipe." " 'Deed he did," replies the young man ; " and did ye know the oldBar'n?" " I did," said I. " My friend, I have been by the banks of the Bendemeer. Tell me, are the nightingales still singing there, and do the roses still bloom ? " " The hwhat ? " cries Blake. " What the divvle, Fitz, are you growhng about 1 Bendemeer Lake's in Westmoreland, as I pre- shume ; and as for roses and nightingales, I give ye my word it's Greek ye're talking to me." And Greek it very possibly was, for my young fnend, though as good across country as any man in his county, has not the fine feeling and tender perception of beauty which may be found elsewhere, dear madam. " Tell me about Speck, Blake, and Kalbsbraten, and Dorothea, and Khngenspohr her husband." " He with the cut across the nose, is it?" cries Blake. "I know him well, and his old wife." " His old what, sir ! " cries Fitz-Boodle, jumping up from his seat. " Klingenspohr's wife old! — Is he married again? — Is Dorothea, then, d-d-dead t " " Dead ! — no more dead than you are, only I take her to be five- and-thirty. And when a woman has had nine children, you know, 326 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS she looks none the younger ; and I can tell ye, that when she trod on my corruns at a ball at the Grand Juke's, I felt something heavier than a feather on my foot." "Madame de Klingenspohr, then," replied I, hesitating somewhat, " has grown rather — rather st-st-out 1" I could hardly get out the out, and trembled I don't know why as I asked the question. " Stout, begad ! — she weighs fourteen stone, saddle and bridle. That's right, down goes my pipe ; flop ! crash falls the tumbler into the fender ! Break away, my boy, and remember, whoever breaks a glass here pays a dozen." The fact was, that the announcement of Dorothea's changed con- ■ dition caused no small disturbance within me, and I expressed it in the abrupt manner mentioned by young Blake. Roused thus from my reverie, I questioned the young fellow about his residence at Kalbsbraten, which has been always since the war a favourite place for our young gentry, and heard with some satisfaction that Potzdorff was married to the Behrenstein, Haarbart had left the dragoons, the Crown Prince had broken with the but mum ! of what interest are all these details to the reader, who has never been at friendly little Kalbsbraten 1 Presently Lynch reaches me down on'e of the three books that formed his library (the " Racing Calendar " and a book of fishing- flies making up the remainder of the set). "And there's my album," says he. "You'll find plenty of hands in it that you'll recognise, as you are an old Pumpernickelaner." And so I did, in truth ; it was a little book after the fashion of German albums, in which good simple little ledger every friend or acquaintance of the owner inscribes a poem or stanza from some favourite poet or philosopher with the transcriber's own name, as thus : — " To the true house-friend, and beloved Irelandish youth. " ' Sera nunquam est ad bonos mores via.' " Waokeebaet, Professor at the Grand-Ducal Kalbsbraten-Pumpernickelisch Gymnasium. " Another writes, — " ' Wander on roses and forget me not.' " Amalia v. Nachtmutze, geb. v. schlafkock," with a flourish, and the picture mayhap of a rose. Let the reader imagine some hundreds of these interesting inscriptions, and he will have an idea of the book. FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 327 Turning over the leaves I came presently on Dorothea's hand. There it was, the little neat pretty handwriting, the dear old up- and-down strokes that I had not looked at for many a long year, — the Mediterranean heath, which grew on the sunniest banks of Fitz- Boodle's existence, and here found, dear dear little sprig ! in rude Gralwagian bog-lands. "Look at the other side of the page," says Lynch, rather sarcastically (for I don't care to confess that I kissed the name of " Dorothea v. Klingenspohr, bom v. Speck " written under an extremely feeble passage of verse). "Look at the other side of the paper ! " I did, and what do you think I saw 1 I saw the writing of five of the little Klingenspohrs, who have all sprung up since my time. " Ha ! ha ! haw ! " screamed the impertinent young Irishman ; — and the story was all over Connemara and Joyce's Country in a day after. CHAPTER II OTTILIA IN PARTICULAR SOME kind critic who peruses these writings wiU, doubtless, have the goodness to point out that the simile of the Mediter- ranean heath is applied to two personages in this chapter — to Ottilia and Dorothea, and say, Psha ! the fellow is but a poor un- imaginative creature not to be able to find a simile apiece at least for the girls : how much better would we have done the business ! Well, it is a very pretty simile. The girls were rivals, were beautiful, I loved them both, — which should have the sprig of heath ? Mr. Cruikshank (who has taken to serious painting) is getting ready for the Exhibition a fine piece, representing Fitz-Boodle on the Urrisbeg Mountain, county Galway, Ireland, with a sprig of heath in his hand, hesitating, like Paris, on which of the beauties he should bestow it. In the background is a certain animal between two bundles of hay ; but that I take to represent the critic, puzzled to which of my young beauties to assign the choice. If Dorothea had been as rich as Miss Ooutts, and had come to me the next day after the accident at the ball and said, " George, will you marry me 1 " it must not be supposed I would have done any such thing. That dream had vanished for ever ; rage and pride took the place of love ; and the only chance I had of recover- ing from my dreadful discomfiture was by bearing it bravely, and trying, if possible, to awaken a little compassion in my favour. I limped home (arranging my scheme with great presence of mind as I actually sat spinning there on the ground) — I limped home, sent for Pflastersticken, the Court-surgeon, and addressed him to the following effect : " Pflastersticken," says I, " there has been an accident at Court of which you will hear. You will send in leeches, pills, and the deuce knows what, and you will say that I have dislocated my leg : for some days you will state that I am in con- siderable danger. You are a good fellow and a man of courage I know, for which very reason you can appreciate those qualities in another ; so mind, if you breathe a word of my secret, either you or I must lose a life." Away went the surgeon, and the next day all Kalbsbraten knew FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 329 that I was on the point of death : I had been delirious all night, had had eighty leeches, besides I don't know how much medicine ; but the Kalbsbrateners knew to a scruple. Whenever anybody was ill, this little kind society knew what medicines were prescribed. Everybody in the town knew what everybody had for dinner. If Madame Eumpel had her satin dyed ever so quietly, the whole society was on the qui vive ; if Countess Pultuski sent to Berlin for a new set of teeth, not a person in Kalbsbraten but what was ready to compliment her as she put them on ; if Potzdorff paid his tailor's bill, or Muffiusteiu bought a piece of black wax for his moustaches, it was the talk of the little city. And so, of course, was my accident. In their sorrow for my misfortune, Dorothea's was quite forgotten, and those eighty leeches saved me. I became interesting ; I had cards left at my door ; and I kept my room for a fortnight, during which time I read every one of Monsieur Kotzebue's plays. At the end of that period I was convalescent, though still a little lame. I called at old Speck's house and apologised for my clumsiness, with the most admirable coolness ; I appeared at Court, and stated calmly that I did not intend to dance any more ; and when Klingen- spohr grinned, I told that young gentleman such a piece of my mind as led to his wearing a large sticking-plaster patch on his nose : which was split as neatly down the middle as you would split an orange at dessert. In a word, what man could do to repair my defeat, I did. There is but one thing now of which I am ashamed — of those kUling epigrams which I wrote (mo7i Diev, 1 must I own it 1 — but even the fury of my anger proves the extent of my love !) against the Speck family. They were handed about in confidence at Court, and made a frightful sensation : — " Is it possible ? "There happened at Schloss P-mp-rn-ckel, A strange mishap our sides to tickle, And set the people in a roar ; — A strange caprice of Fortune fickle : I never thought at Pumpernickel To see a Sfeck upon the floor/" " La Perfide Albion ; or, A Caution to Wcdtzers. " ' Come to the dance,' the Briton said, And forward D-r-th-a led, Fair, fresh, and three-and-twenty 1 Ah, girls, beware of Britons red ! What wonder that it turned her head f Sat vekbum sapienti." 330 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPEES " Reasons for not Marrying. '"The lovely Miss S. Will surely say " yes," You've only to ask and try ; ' ' That subject we'll quit,' Says Georgy the wit, ' I've a muck letter Spec in my eye/' " This last epigram especially was voted so killing that it flew like wildfire; and I know for a fact that our Charg^-d' Affaires at Kalbsbraten sent a courier express with it to the Foreign Office in England, whence, through our amiable Foreign Secretary, Lord p_lni-rston, it made its way into every fashionable circle : nay, I have reason to believe caused a smile on the cheek of R-y-lty itself. Now that Time has taken away the sting of these epigrams, there can be no harm in giving them ; and 'twas well enough then to endeavour to hide under the lash of wit the bitter pangs of humiha- tion : but my heart bleeds now to think that I should have ever brought a tear on the gentle cheek of Dorothea. Not content with this — with humiliating her by satire, and with wounding her accepted lover across the nose — I determined to carry my revenge stiU farther, and to fall in love with somebody else. This person was Ottilia v. Schlippenschlopp. Otho Sigismund Freyherr von Schlippenschlopp, Knight Grand Cross of the Ducal Order of the Two-Necked Swan of Pumpernickel, of the Porc-et-Sifflet of Kalbsbraten, Commander of the George and Blue- Boar of Dunmierland, Excellency, and High Chancellor of the United Duchies, lived in the second-floor of a house in the Schnapsgasse ; where, with his private income and his revenues as Chancellor, amounting together to some three himdred pounds per annum, he maintained such a state as very few other officers of the Grand-Ducal Crown could exhibit. The Baron is married to Maria Antoinetta, a Countess of the house of Kartoffelstadt, branches of which have taken root all over Germany. He has no sons, and but one daughter, the Fraulein Ottilia. The Chancellor is a worthy old gentleman, too fat and wheezy to preside at the Privy Council, fond of his pipe, his ease, and his rubber. His lady is a very tall and pale Eoman-nosed Countess, who looks as gentle as Mrs. Robert Roy, where, in the novel, she is for putting Bailie Niool Jarvie into the lake, and who keeps the honest Chancellor in the greatest order. The Fraulein Ottilia had not arrived at Kalbsbraten when the little affiiir between me and Dorothea was going on; or rather had only just come in for the conclusion of it, being presented for the first time that year at the ball where I — where I met with my accident. FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 331 At the time when the Countess was young, it was not the fashion in her country to educate the young ladies so highly as since they have been educated ; and provided they could waltz, sew, and make puddings, they were thought to be decently bred ; being seldom called upon for algebra or Sanscrit in the discharge of the honest duties of their lives. But Fraulein Ottilia was of the modern school in this respect, and came back from her pension at Strasburg speaking all the languages, dabbling in all the sciences : an historian, a poet, — a blue of the ultramarinest sort, in a word. Wliat a difference there was, for instance, between poor simple Dorothea's love of novel- reading and the profound encyclopaedic learning of Ottilia ! Before the latter arrived from Strasburg (where she had been under the care of her aunt the canoness, Countess Ottilia of Kartofielstadt, to whom I here beg to offer my humblest respects), Dorothea had passed for a bel esprit in the little Court circle, and her little simple stock of accomplishments had amused us all very well. She used to sing "Herz, mein Herz" and "T'en souviens- tu?" in a decent manner {once, before Heaven, I thought her singing better than Grisi's), and then she had a little album in which she drew flowers, and used to embroider slippers wonderfully, and wa.s very merry at a game of loto or forfeits, and had a hundred small agrdments de socUU which rendered her an acceptable member of it. But when Ottilia arrived^ poor DoUy's reputation was crushed in a month. The former wrote poems both in French and German ; she painted landscapes and portraits in real oil ; and she twanged off a rattling piece of Liszt or Kalkbrenner in such a brilliant way, that Dora scarcely dared to touch the instrument after her, or venture, after Ottilia had trilled and gurgled through " Una voce," or "Di piacer" (Rossini was in fashion then), to lift up her little modest pipe in a ballad. What was the use of the poor tiling going to sit in the Park, where so many of the young officers used ever to gather round her ? Whirr ! Ottilia went by galloping on a chest- nut mare with a groom after her, and presently all the young fellows who could buy or hire horseflesh were prancing in her train. When they met, Ottilia would bounce towards her soul's darUng, and put her hands round her waist, and call her by a thousand affectionate names, and then talk of her as only ladies or authors can talk of one another. How tenderly she would hint at Dora's little imperfections of education ! — how cleverly she would insinuate that the poor girl had no wit ! and, thank God, no more she had. The fact is, that do what I wiH I see I'm in love with her stUl, and would be if she had fifty children ; but my passion blinded me then, and every arrow that fiery Ottilia discharged I 332 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS marked with savage joy. Dolly, thank Heaven, didn't mind the ■wit much ; she was too simple for that. But still the recurrence of it would leave in her heart a vague indefinite feeling of pain, and somehow she began to understand that her empire was passing away, and that her dear friend hated her like poison ; and so she married Klingenspohr. I have written myself almost into a recon- ciliation with the silly fellow ; for the truth is, he has been a good honest husband to her ; and she has children, and makes puddings, and is happy. OttiUa was pale and delicate. She wore her glistening black hair in bands, and dressed in vapoury white muslin. She sang her own words to her harp, and they commonly insinuated that she was alone in the \s%ld, — that she sufiered some inexpressible and mysterious heart-pangs, the lot of all finer geniuses, — that though she lived and moved in the world she was not of it,:— that she was of a consumptive tendency and might look for a premature inter- ment. She even had fixed on the spot where she should lie : the violets grew there, she said, the river went moaning by ; the grey willow whispered sadly over her head, and her heart pined to be at rest. "Mother," she would say, turning to her parent, "promise me^— promise me to lay me in that spot when the parting hour has come ! " At which Madame de Schlippenschlopp would shriek, and grasp her in her arms; and at which, I confess, I would myself blubber like a child. She had six darling friends at school, and every courier from Klalbsbraten carried off whole reams of her letter-paper. In Kalbsbraten, as in every other German town, there are a vast number of literary characters, of whom our young friend quickly became the chief They set up a literary journal, which appeared once a week, upon Ught-blue or primrose paper, and which, in compliment to the lovely Ottilia's maternal name, was called the Kartoffelnkranz. Here are a couple of her ballads extracted from the Kranz, and by far the most cheerful specimen of her style. For in her songs she never would wiUingly let oif the 'icroiues without a suicide or a consumption. She never would hear of such a thing as a happy marriage, and had an appetite for grief quite amazing in so young a person. As for her dying and desiring to be buried under the wiUow-tree, of which the first ballad is the subject, though I believed the story then, I have at present some doubts about it. For, since the publication of my Memoirs, I have been thrown much into the society of literary persons (who admire my style hugely), and egad ! though some of them are dismal enough in their works, I find them in their persons the least senti- mental class that ever a gentleman fell in with. FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS S33 THE WILLOW-TREE. " Know ye the willow-tree Whose grey leaves quiver, Whispering gloomily To yon pale river ? Lady, at eventide Wander nut near it : They say its branches hide A sad lost spirit ! Once to the willow-tree A mai4 came fearful, Pale seemed her cheek to be, Her blue eye tearful ; Soon as she saw the tree, Her step moved fleeter. No one was there — ah me ! No one to meet her ! Quick beat her heart to hear The far bell's chime Toll from the chapel-tower The trysting-time : But the red sun went down In golden flame, And though she looked round, Yet no one came ! Presently came the night Sadly to greet her, — Moon in her silver light, Stars in their glitter. Then sank the moon away Under the billow, Still wept the maid alone- There by the willow t Through the long darkness, By the stream rolling, Hour after hour went on Tolling and tolling. Long was the darkness, Lonely and stilly ; Shrill came the night-wind, Piercing and chilly. 334 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS Shrill blew the morning breeze. Biting and cold, Bleak peers the grey dawn Over the wold. Bleak over moor and stream Looks the grey dawn, Grey, with dishevelled hair, Still stands the willow there — The MArD is oone I Domirte, Dominef Sing we a litany, — Sing for poor maiden-hearts broken and weary ; Doming, Domi/nef Sing we a litany, Wail we and weep we a wild Miserere ! " One of the chief beauties of this ballad (for the translation of which I received some well-merited compliments) is the delicate way in which the suicide of the poor young woman under the willow-tree is hinted at ; for that she threw herself into the water and became one among the lilies of the stream, is as clear as a pikestaff. Her suicide is committed some time in the darkness, when the slow hours move on tolling and tolling, and is hinted at darkly as befits the time and the deed. But that unromantic brute Van Cutsem, the Dutch Chargd- d' Affaires, sent to the Kartoffelnkranz of the week after a con- clusion of the ballad, which shows what a poor creature he must be. His pretext for writing it was, he said, because he could not bear such melancholy endings to poems and young women, and therefore he submitted the following lines : — " Long by the willow-trees Vainly they sought her, Wild rang the mother's screams O'er the grey water : * Where is my lovely one ? Where is my daughter ? n. * Rouse thee, Sir Constable — Eouse thee and look ; Fisherman, bring your net, Boatman, your hook. Beat in the lily-beds. Dive in the brook ! ' FIT2-B00DLE'S CONFESSIONS 335 III. Vainly the constable Shouted and called her ; Vainly the fisherman Beat the green alder ; Vainly he flung the net, Never it hauled her I IV. Mother, beside the fire Sat, her nightcap in ; Father, in easy-chair, Gloonjily napping ; When at the window-sill Came a light tapping ! And a pale countenance Looked through the casement. Loud beat the mother's heart, Sick with amazement ; And at the vision, which Came to surprise her, Shrieked in an agony — 'Lor'! it'sElizar!' VI. Yes, t'was Elizabeth — Yes, 'twas their girl ; Pale was her cheek, and her Hair out of curl. ' Mother ! ' the loving one, Blushing, exclaimed, * Let not your innocent Lizzy be blamed. VII. ' Yesterday, going to Aunt Jones's to tea, Mother, dear mother, I Forgot the door-key I And as the night was cold, And the way steep, Mrs. Jones kept me to Breakfast and sleep.' 336 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS VIII. Whether her Pa and Ma Fully believed her, That we shall never know ; Stem they received her ; And for the work of that Cruel, though short, night, Sent to her bed without Tea for a fortnight. IX. MORAL. Hey diddle diddlety. Cat and the Fiddlety, Maidens of England, take caution by she/ Let love and suicide Never tempt you aside. And always remember to take the door-key !" Some people laughed at this parody and even preferred it to the original; but for myself I have no patience with the individual who can turn the finest sentiments of our nature into ridicule, and make everything sacred a subject of scorn. The next baUad is less gloomy than that of " The Willow-Tree," and in it the lovely writer expresses her longing for what has charmed us all, and, as it were, squeezes the whole spirit of the fairy tale into a few stanzas : — FAIRY DAYS. ' Beside the old hall-fire — upon my nurse's knee, Of happy fairy days — what tales were told to me ! I thought the world was once — all peopled with princesses, And my heart would beat to hear — their loves and their distresses ; And many a quiet night, — in slumber sweet and deep, The pretty fairy people — would visit me in sleep. I saw them in my dreams — come flying east and west, With wondrous fairy gifts — the new-born babe they bless'd ; One has brought a jewel — and one a crown of gold. And one has brought a curse— but she is wrinkled and old. The gentle queen turns pale— to hear those words of sin. But the king he only laughs — and bids the dance begin. The babe has grown to be — the fairest of the land. And rides the forest green — a hawk upon her hand. FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 337 An ambling palfrey white — a golden robe and crown ; I've seen her in my dreams — riding up and down ; And heard the ogre laugh — as she fell into his snare, At the little tender creature — who wept and tore her hair ! But ever when it seemed — her need was at the sorest A prince in shining mail — comes prancing through the forest. A waving ostrich-plume — a buckler burnished bright ; I've seen him in my dreams — good sooth ! a gallant knight. His lips are coral red — beneath a dark moustache : See how he waves his hand — and how his blue eyes flash . * Come forth, thou Paynim knight ! ' he shouts in accents clear. The giant and the maid — both tremble his voice to hear. Saint Mary guard him well ! — he draws his falchion keen, The giant and the knight — are fighting on the green. I see them in my dreams — his blade gives stroke on stroke. The giant pants and reels — and tumbles like an oak ! WitU what a Washing grace — he falls upon his knee And takes the lady's hand — and whispers, ' You are free ! ' Ah ! happy childish tales — of knight and faerie ! I waken from my dreams — but there's ne'er a knight for me ; I waken from my dreams — and wish that I could be A child by the old hall-fire — upon my nurse's knee." Indeed, Ottilia looked like a fairy herself : pale, small, slim, and airy. You could not see her face, as it were, for her eyes, which ■were so wUd, and so tender, and shone so that they would have dazzled an eagle, much more a poor goose of a Fitz-Boodle. In the theatre, when she sat on the opposite side of the house, those big eyes used to pursue me as I sat pretending to listen to the " Zauberflote," or to "Don Carlos," or "Egmont," and at the tender passages, especially, they would have such a winning, weep- ing, imploring look with them, as flesh and blood could not bear. Shall I tell you how I became a poet for the dear girl's sake t 'Tis surely unnecessary after the reader has perused the above versions of her poems. Shall I tell what wild follies I committed in prose as well as in verse '? how I used to watch under her window of icy evenings, and with chilblainy fingers sing serenades to her on the guitar ? Shall I tell how, in a sledging-party, I had the happi- ness to drive her, and of the delightful privilege which is, on these occasions, accorded to the driver 1 Any reader who has spent a winter in Germany perhaps knows it. A large party of a score or more of sledges is formed. Away they go to some pleasure-house that has been previously fixed upon, where a ball and collation are prepared, and where each man, as hia 338 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS partner descends, lias the delicious privilege of saluting her. heavens and earth ! I may grow to be a thousand years old, but I can never forget the rapture of that salute. " The keen air has given me an appetite," said the dear angel, as we entered the supper-room ; and to say the truth, fairy as she was, she made a remarkably good meal — consuming a couple of basins of white soup, several kinds of German sausages, some Westphalia ham, some white puddings, an anchovy-salad made with cornichons and onions, sweets innumerable, and a considerable quantity of old Steinwein and rum-punch afterwards. Then she got up and danced as brisk as a fau-y; in which operation I of course did not follow her, but had the honour, at the close of the evening's amusement, once more to have her by my side in the sledge, as we swept in the moonlight over the snow. Kalbsbraten is a very hospitable place as far as tea-parties are concerned, but I never was in one where dinners were so scarce. At the palace they occurred twice or thrice in a month ; but on these occasions spinsters were not invited, and I seldom had the opportunity of seeing my Ottilia except at evening parties. Nor are these, if the truth must be told, very much to my taste. Dancing I have forsworn, whist is too severe a study for me, and I do not hke to play ^cart^ with old ladies, who are sure to cheat you in the course of an evening's play. But to have an occasional glance at Ottiha was enough ; and many and many a napoleon did I lose to her mamma, Madame de SchKppenschlopp, for the blest privilege of looking at her daughter. Many is the tea-party I went to, shivering into cold clothes after dinner (which is my abomination) in order to have one little look at the lady of my soul. At these parties there were generally refreshments of a nature more substantial than mere tea — punch, both milk and rum, hot wine, consomm^, and a peculiar and exceedingly disagreeable sand- wich made of a mixture of cold white puddings and garlic, of which I have forgotten the name, and always detested the savour. Gradually a conviction came upon me that Ottilia ate a great deal. I do not dislike to see a woman eat comfortably. I even think that an agreeable woman ought to be friande, and should love certain little dishes and knicknacks. I know that though at dinner they commonly take nothing, they have had roast-mutton with the children at two, and laugh at their pretensions to starvation. No ! a woman who eats a grain of rice, hke Amina in the " Arabian Nights," is absurd and unnatural ; but there is a modus FITZ-BOODLE'S CONFESSIONS 339 in rebus : there is no reason why she should be a ghoul, a monster, an ogress, a horrid gormandiseress — faugh ! It was, then, with a rage amounting almost to agony, that I found Ottilia ate too much at every meal. She was always eating, and always eating too much. If I went there in the morning, there was the horrid familiar odour of those oniony sandwiches ; if in the afternoon, dinner had been just removed, and I was choked by reeking reminiscences of roast-meat. Tea we have spoken of. She gobbled up more cakes than any six people present ; then came the supper and the sandwiches again, and the egg-flip and the horrible rum-punch. She was as thin as ever — paler if possible than ever : — but, by heavens ! her nose began to grow red ! Man Dieu 1 how I used to watch and watch it ! Some days it was purple, some days had more of the vermilion — I could take an afiidavit that after a heavy night's supper it was more swollen, more red than before. I recollect one night when we were playing a round game (I had been looking at her nose very eagerly and sadly for some time), she of herself brought up the conversation about eating, and con- fessed that she had five meals a day. " That accownts for it ! " says I, flinging down the cards, and springing up and rushing like a madman out of the room. I rushed away into the night, and wrestled with my passion. " What ! Marry," said I, "a woman who eats meat twenty-one times in a week, besides breakfast and tea 1 Marry a sarcophagus, a cannibal, a butcher's shop ? — Away ! " I. strove and strove. I drank, I groaned, I wrestled and fought with my love — but it overcame me : one look of those eyes brought me to her feet again. I yielded myself up like a slave ; I fawned and whined for her ; I thought her nose was not so very red. Things came to this pitch that I sounded his Highness's Minister to know whether he would give me service in the Duchy ; I thought of purchasing an estate there. I was given to imderstand that I should get a chamberlain's key and some post of honour did I choose to remain, and I even wrote home to my brother Tom in England, hinting a change in my condition. At this juncture the town of Hamburg sent his Highness the Grand Duke (a propos of a commercial union which was pending between the two States) a singular present : no less than a certain number of barrels of oysters, which are considered extreme luxuries in Germany, especially in the inland parts of the country, where they are almost unknown. In honour of the oysters and the new commercial treaty (which 340 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS arrived in fourgons despatched for the purpose), his Highness announced a grand supper and ball, and invited all the quality of all the principalities round about. It was a splendid affair : the grand saloon brilliant with hundreds of uniforms and brilliant toilettes — not the least beautiful among them, I need not say, was Ottilia. At midnight the supper-rooms were thrown open, and we formed into little parties of six, each having a table, nobly served with plate, a lacquey in attendance, and a gratifying ice-pail or two of champagne to igayer the supper. It was no small cost to serve five hundred people on silver, and the repast was certainly a princely and magnificent one. I had, of course, arranged with Mademoiselle de Schlippen- schlopp. Captains Frumpel and Fridelberger of the Duke's Guard, Mesdames de Butterbrod and Bopp, formed our little party. The first course, of course, consisted of the oysters. Ottilia's eyes gleamed with double brilliancy as the lacquey opened them. There were nine apiece for us — how well I recollect the number ! I never was much of an oyster-eater, nor can I relish them in naturalibus as some do, but require a quantity of sauces, lemons, cayenne peppers, bread and butter, and so forth, to render them palatable. By the time I had made my preparations, Ottilia, the Captains, and the two ladies, had well-nigh finished theirs. Indeed Ottilia had gobbled up all hers, and there were only my nine left in the dish. I took one — it was bad. The scent of it was enough, — they were all bad. Ottilia had eaten nine bad oysters. I put down the horrid shell. Her eyes glistened more and more ; she could not take them ofi' the tray. " Dear Herr George," she said, " will you give me yowr oysters 1 " She had them all down — before — I could say — Jack — Robinson ! I left Kalbsbraten that night, and have never been there since. FITZ'BOODLE'S PROFESSIONS BEING APPEALS TO THE UNEMPLOYED YOUNGER SONS OF THE NOBILITY FIRST PROFESSION THE fair and honest proposition in which I offered to com- municate privately with parents and guardians, relative to two new and lucrative professions which I had discovered, has, I find from the publisher, elicited not one single inquiry from those personages, who I can't but thinli are very little careful of their children's welfare to allow such a chance to be thrown away. It is not for myself I speak, as my conscience proudly tells me ; for though I actually gave up Ascot in order 'to be in the way should any father of a family be inclined to treat with me regarding my discoveries, yet I am grieved, not on my own account, but on theirs, and for the wretched penny-wise policy that has held them back. That they must feel an interest in my annoimcement is un- questionable. Look at the way in which the public prints of all parties have noticed my appearance in the character of a literary man? Putting aside my personal narrative, look at the offer I made to the nation, — a choice of no less than two new professions ! Suppose I had invented as many new kinds of butcher's-meat : does any one pretend that the world, tired as it is of the perpetual recurrence of beef, mutton, veal, cold beef, cold veal, cold mutton, hashed ditto, would not have jumped eagerly at the delightful intelligence that their old, stale, stupid meals were about to be varied at last ? Of course people would have come forward. I should have had deputations from Mr. Gibletts and the fashionable butchers of this world ; petitions would have poured in from Whitechapel salesmen ; the speculators panting to know the discovery : the cautious with stock in hand eager to bribe me to silence and prevent the certain depreciation of the goods which they already possessed. I should have dealt with them, not greedily or rapaciously, but on honest S4g THE PITZ-BOODLE PAPERS principles of fair barter. "Gentlemen," I should have said, or rather "Gents" — which affectionate diminutive is, I am given to understand, at present much in use among commercial persons — "Gents, my researches, my genius, or my good fortune, have brought me to the valuable discovery about which you are come to treat. Will you purchase it outright, or will you give the dis- coverer an honest share of the profits resulting from your specula- tion 1 My position in the world puts me out of the power of executing the vast plan I have formed, but 'twill be a certain fortune to him who engages in it ; and why should not I, too, par- ticipate in that fortune % " Such would have been my manner of dealing with the world, too, with regard to my discovery of the new professions. Does not the world want new professions t Are there not thousands of well- educated men panting, struggling, pushing, starving, in the old ones ? Grim tenants of chambers looking out for attorneys who never come 1 — wretched physicians practising the stale joke of being called out of church until people no longer think fit even to laugh or to pity 1 Are there not hoary-headed midshipmen, antique ensigns growing mouldy upon fifty years' half-pay ? Nay, are there not men who would pay anything to be employed rather than remain idle 1 But such is the glut of professionals, the horrible cut-throat competition among them, that there is no chance for one in a thousand, be he ever so willing, or brave, or clever : in the great ocean of life he makes a few strokes, and puffs, and sputters, and sinks, and the innumerable waves overwhelm him, and he is heard of no more. Walking to my banker's t'other day — and I pledge my sacred honour this story is true — I met a young fellow whom I had known attach^ to an embassy abroad, a young man of tolerable parts, un- wearied patience, with some fortune too, and, moreover, allied to a noble Whig family, whose interest had procured him his appoint- ment to the legation at Kraliwinkel, where I knew him. He remained for ten years a diplomatic character ; he was the working man of the legation : he sent over the most diffuse translations of the German papers for the use of the Foreign Secretary : he signed passports with most astonishing ardour ; he exiled himself for ten long years in a wretched German town, dancing attendance at Ooiu-t-balls and paying no end of money for uniforms. And for what f At the end of the ten years — during which period of labour he never received a single shilling from the Government which employed him (rascally spendthrift of a Government, va I), — he was ofi'ered the paid attach&hip to the Court of H.M. the King of the Mosquito Islands, and refused that appointment a week before the Whig Ministry retired. Then he knew that there was no further FITZ-BOODLE'S PROFESSIONS 343 chance for him, and incontinently quitted the diplomatic service for ever, and I have no douht will sell his uniform a bargain. The Government had him a bargain certainly ; nor is he by any means the first person who has been sold at that price. Well, my worthy friend met me in the street and infomied me of these facts with a smiling countenance, — which I thought a mastei-piece of diplomacy. Fortune had been belabouring and kicking him for ten whole years, and here he was grinning in my face : could Monsieur de Talleyrand have acted better? "I have given up diplomacy," said Protocol, quite simply and good-humouredly, " for between you and me, my good fellow, it's a very slow profes- sion ; sure perhaps, but slow., But though I gained no actual pecuniary remuneration in the service, I have learned all the lan- guages in Europe, which will be invaluable to me in my new pro- fession — the mercantile one — in which directly I looked out for a post I found one." " What ! and a good pay 1 " said I. " Why, no ; that's absurd, you know. No young men, strangers to business, are paid much to speak of. Besides, I don't look to a paltry clerk's pay. Some day, when thoroughly acquainted with the business (I shall learn it in about seven years), I' shall go into a good house with my capital and become junior partner. " And meanwhile 1 " " Meanwhile I conduct the foreign correspondence of the eminent house of Jam, Ram, and Johnson ; and very heavy it is, I can tell you. From nine till six every day, except foreign post days, and then from nine till eleven. Dirty dark court to sit in ; snobs to talk to, — great change, as you may fancy." " And you do all this for nothing 1 " " I do it to learn the business." And so saying Protocol gave me a knowing nod and went his way. Good heavens ! I thought, and is this a true story 1 Are there hundreds of young men in a similar situation at the present day, giving away the best years of their youth for the sake of a mere windy hope of something in old age, and dying before they come to the goal? In seven years he hopes to have a business, and then to have the pleasure of risking his money 1 He will be admitted into some great house as a particular favour, and three months after the house will fail. Has it not happened to a thousand of our acquaint- ance ? I thought I would nm after him and tell him about the new professions that I have invented. " Oh ! ay ! those you wrote about in Fraser's Magazine. Egad ! George, Necessity makes strange fellows of us all. Who would ever have thought of you spelling, much more writing ? " SU THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPEES " Never mind that. Will you, if I tell you of a new profession that, with a little cleverness and instruction from me, you may bring to a most successful end — will you, I say, make me a fair return 1 " "My dear creature," replied young Protocol, "what nonsense you talk 1 I saw that very humbug in the Magazine. You say you have made a great discovery — very good ; you puff yoiu: discovery — very right ; you ask money for it — nothing can be more reason- able ; and then you say that you intend to make your discovery public in the next number of the Magazine. Do you think I will be such a fool as to give you money for a thing which I can have next mouth for nothing 1 Good-bye, George my boy ; the next dis- covery you make I'll tell you how to get a better price for it." And with this the fellow walked off, looking supremely knowing and clever. This tale of the person I have called Protocol is not told with- out a purpose, you may be sure. In the first place, it shows what are the reasons that nobody has made application to me concerning the new professions, namely, because I have passed my word to make them known in this Magazine, which persons may have for the purchasing, stealing, borrowing, or hiring, and, therefore, they will never think of applying personally to me. And, secondly, his story proves also my assertion, viz., that all professions are most cruelly crowded at present, and that men will make the most absurd outlay and sacrifices for the smallest chance of success at some futm-e period. Well, then, I will be a benefactor to my race, if I cannot be to one single member of it, whom I love better than most men. What I have discovered I will make known ; there shall be no shUly-shallying work here, no circumlocution, no bottle-conjuring business. But oh ! I wish for all our sakes that I had had an opportunity to impart the secret to one or two persons only ; for, after all, but one or two can live in the manner I would suggest. And when the discovery is made known, I am sure ten thousand will try. The rascals ! I can see their brass-plates gleaming over scores of doors. Competition will ruin my professions, as it has aU others. It must be premised that the two professions are intended for gentlemen, and gentlemen only — men of birth and education. No others could support the parts which they will be called upon to play. And, likewise, it must be honestly confessed that these pro- fessions have, to a certain degree, been exercised before. Do not cry out at this and say it is no discovery ! I say it is a discovery. It is a discovery if I show you — a gentleman — a profession which you may exercise without derogation, or loss of standing, with PITZ-BOODLE'S PROFESSIONS 345 certain profit, nay, possibly with honour, and of which, until the reading of this present page, you never thought biit as of a calling beneath your rank and quite below your reach. Sir, I do not mean to say that I create a profession. I cannot create gold; but if, when discovered, I find the means of putting it in your pocket, do I or do I not deserve credit ? I see you sneer contemptuously when I mention to you the word Auctioneer. " Is this all," you say, " that this fellow brags and prates about t An auctioneer, forsooth ! he might as well have ' invented ' chimney-sweeping ! " No such thing. A little boy of seven, be he ever so low of birth, can do this as well as you. Do you suppose that little stolen Master Montague made a better sweeper than the lowest-bred chummy that yearly commemorates his release? No, sir. And he might have been ever so much a genius or a gentleman, and not have been able to make his trade respectable. But all such trades as can be rendered decent the aristocracy has adopted one by one. At first they followed the profession of arms, flouting all others as unworthy, and thinking it ungentleman- like to know how to read or write. They did not go into the Church in very early days, till the money to be got from the Church was strong enough to tempt them. It is but of later years that they have condescended to go to the bar, and since the same time only that we see some of them following trades. I know an English lord's son, who is, or was, a wine merchant (he may have been a bankrupt for what I know). As for bankers, several partners in banking-houses have four balls to their coronets, and I have no doubt that another sort of banking, viz., that practised by gentlemen who lend small sums of money upon deposited securities, will be one day followed by the noble order, so that they may have four balls on their coronets and carriages, and three in front of their shops. Yes, the nobles come peoplewards as the people, on the other hand, rise and mingle with the nobles. With the plebs, of course, Fitz-Boodle, in whose veins flows the blood of a thousand kings, can have nothing to do ; but, watching the progress of the world, 'tis impossible to deny that the good old days of our race are passed away. We want money still as much as ever we did ; but we cannot go down from our castles with horse and sword and waylay fat merchants — no, no, confounded new policelnen and the assize courts prevent that. Younger brothers cannot be pages to noble houses, as of old they were, serving gentle dames without disgrace, handing my Lord's rose-water to wash, or holding his stirrup as he mounted for the chase. A page, forsooth ! A pretty figure would 346 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS George Fitz-Boodle or any other man of fashion cut, in a jacket covered with sugar-loafed buttons, and handing in penny-post notes on a silver tray. The plebs have robbed us of that trade among others: nor, I confess, do I much grudge them their trouvaille. Neither can we collect together a few scores of free-lances, like honest Hugh Calverly in the Black Prince's time, or brave Harry Butler of Wallenstein's dragoons, and serve this or that prince, Peter the Cruel or Henry of Trastamare, Gustavus or the Emperor, at our leisure ; or, in default of service, fight and rob on our own gallant account, as the good gentlemen of old did. Alas ! no. In South America or Texas, perhaps, a man might have a chance that way ; but in the ancient world no man can fight except in the king's service (and a mighty bad service that is too), and the lowest European sovereign, were it Baldomero Espartero himself, would think nothing of seizing the best-born condottiere that ever drew sword, and shooting him down like the vulgarest deserter. What, then, is to be done? We must discover fresh fields of enterprise — of peaceable and commercial enterprise in a peaceful and commercial age. I say, then, that the auctioneer's pulpit has never yet been ascended by a scion of the aristocracy, and am prepared to prove that they might scale it, and do so with dignity and profit. For the auctioneer's pulpit is just the peculiar place where a man of social refinement, of elegant wit, of polite perceptions, can bring his wit, his eloquence, his taste, and his experience of life, most delightfully into play. It is not like the bar, where the better and higher qualities of a man of fashion find no room for exercise. In defending John Jorrocks in an action of trespass, for cutting down a stick in Sam Snooks's field, what powers of mind do you require? — powers of mind, that is, which Mr. Serjeant Snorter, a butcher's son with a great loud voice, a sizar at Cambridge, a wrangler, and so forth, does not possess as well as yoiu-self ? Snorter has never been in decent society in his life. He thinks the bar-mess the most fashionable assemblage in Europe, and the jokes of " grand day " the ne plus ultra of wit. Snorter lives near Russell Square, eats beef and Yorkshire pudding, is a judge of port wine, is in all social respects your inferior. Well, it is ten to one but in the case of Snooks V. Jorrocks, before mentioned, he will be a better advocate than you; he knows the law of the case entirely, and better probably than you. He can speak long, loud, to the point, gram- matically — more grammatically than you, no doubt, will condescend to do. In the case of Snooks v. Jorrocks he is all that can be desired. And so about dry disputes, respecting real property, he knows the law ; and, beyond this, has no more need to be a gentle- man than my body-servant has — who, by the way, firom constant FITZ-BOODLE'S PROFESSIONS 347 intercourse with the best society, is almost a gentleman. But this is apart from the question. Now, in the matter of auctioneering, this, I apprehend, is not the case, and I assert that a high-bred gentleman, with good powers of mind and speech, must, in such a profession, make a fortune. I do not mean in all auctioneering matters. I do not mean that such a person should be called upon to sell the good-will of a public- house, or discourse about the value of the beer-barrels, or bars with pewter fittings, or the beauty of a trade doing a stroke of so many hogsheads a week. I do not ask a gentleman to go down and sell pigs, ploughs, and cart-horses, at Stoke Pogis ; or to enlarge at the Auction Eooms, Wapping, upon the beauty of the Lively Sally schooner. These articles of commerce or use can be better appreciated by persons in a different rank of life to his. But there are a thousand cases in which a gentleman only can do justice to the sale of objects which the necessity or convenience of the genteel world may require to change hands. All articles properly called of taste should be put under his charge. Pictures, — he is a travelled man, has seen and judged the best galleries of Europe, and can speak of them as a common person cannot. For, mark you, you must have the confidence of your society, you must be able to be familiar with them, to plant a happy nuot in a graceful manner, to appeal to my Lord or the Duchess in such a modest, easy, pleasant way as that her Grace should not be hurt by your allusion to her — nay, amused (like the rest of the company) by the manner in which it was done. What is more disgusting than the familiarity of a snob ? What more loathsome than the swaggering quackery of some present holders of the hammer 1 There was a late sale, for instance, which made some noise in the world (I mean the late Lord Gimcrack's, at Bilberry Hill). Ah ! what an opportunity was lost there ! I declare solemnly that I believe, but for the absurd quackery and braggadocio of the advertisements, much more money would have been bid ; people were kept away by the vulgar trumpeting of the auctioneer, and could not help thinking the things were worthless that were so outrageously lauded. They say that sort of Bartholomew-fair advoc3,cy (in which people are invited to an entertainment by the medium of a hoarse yelling beef-eater, twenty-four drums, and a jack-pudding turning head over heels), is absolutely necessary to excite the public attention. What an error ! I say that the refined individual so accosted is more likely to close his ears, and, shuddering, run away from the booth. Poor Horace Waddlepoodle ! to think that thy gentle accumulation of bric-a-brac should have passed away in such a 348 THE FITZ-BOODLB PAPERS manner, by means of a man who brings down a butterfly with a blunderbuss, and talks of a pin's head through a speaking-trumpet ! Why, the auctioneer's very voice was enough to crack the Sfevres porcelain and blow the lace into annihilation. Let it be remem- bered that I speak of the gentleman in his public character merely, meaning to insinuate nothing more than I would by stating that Lord Brougham speaks with a northern accent, or that the voice of Mr. Shell is sometimes unpleasantly shrill. Now the character I have formed to myself of a great auctioneer is this. I fancy him a man of first-rate and irreproachable birth and fashion. I fancy his person so agreeable that it must be a pleasure for ladies to behold and tailors to dress it. As a private man he must move in the very best society, which wUl flock round his pulpit when he mounts it in his public calling. It will be a privilege for vulgar people to attend the hall where he lectures ; and they will consider it an honour to be allowed to pay their money for articles the value of which is stamped by his high recom- mendation. Nor can such a person be a mere fribble ; nor can any loose hanger-on of fashion imagine he may assume the character. The gentleman auctioneer must be an artist above all, adoring his profession ; and adoring it, what must he hot know ? He must have a good knowledge of the history and language of all nations ; not the knowledge of the mere critical scholar, but of the lively and elegant man of the world. He will not commit the gross blunders of pronvmciation .that untravelled EngUshmen perpetrate; he will not degrade his subject by coarse eulogy, or sicken his audience with vulgar banter. He will know where to apply praise and wit properly ; he will have the tact only acquired in good society, and know where a joke is in place, and how far a compliment may go. He will not outrageously and indiscriminately laud all objects com- mitted to his charge, for he knows the value of praise; that diamonds, could we have them by the bushel, would be used as coals ; that, above all, he has a character of sincerity to support ; that he is not merely the advocate of the person who employs him, but that the public is his client too, who honours him and confides in. him. Ask him to sell a copy of Raffaelle for an original; a trumpery modern Brussels counterfeit for real old Mechlin; some common French forged crockery for the old delightful delicate Dresden china ; and he will quit you with scorn, or order his servant to show you the door of his study. Study, by the way, — no, "study" is a vulgar word; every • word is vulgar which a man uses to give the world an exaggerated notion of himself or his condition. AVhen the wretched bagman, brought up to give evidence before Judge Coltman, was asked^what PITZ-BOODLE'S PROFESSIONS UQ his trade was, and replied that "he represented the house of Dobson and Hobson," he showed himself to be a vulgar mean-souled wretch, and was most properly reprimanded by his Lordship. To be a bagman is to be humble, but not of necessity vulgar. Pomposity is vulgar, to ape a higher rank than your own is vulgar, for an ensign of mihtia to call himself captain is vulgar, or for a bagman to style himself the " representative " of Dobson and Hobson. The honest auctioneer, then, will not call his room his study ; but his "private room," or his office, or whatever may be the phrase com- monly used among auctioneers. He will not for the same reason call himself (as once in a momentary feeling of pride and enthusiasm for the profession I thought he should) — he will not call himself an "advocate," but an auctioneer. There is no need to attempt to awe people by big titles : let each man bear his own name without shame. And a very gentlemanlike and agreeable, though exceptional position (for it is clear that there cannot be more than two of the class), may the auctioneer occupy. He must not sacrifice his. honesty, then, either for his own sake or his clients', in any way, nor tell fibs about himself or them. He is by no means called upon to draw the longbow in their behalf; all that his ofiice obliges him to do — and let us hope his disposition win lead him to do it also — is to take a favourable, kindly, philan- thropic view of the world ; to say what can fairly be said by a good- natured and ingenious man in praise of any article for which he is desirous to awaken public sympathy. And how readily and pleasantly may this be done ! I will take upon myself, for instance, to write a eulogium upon So-and-So's last novel, which shall be every word of it true ; and which work, though to some discontented spirits it might appear' dull, may be shown to be really amusing and instructive, — nay, is amusing and instructive — to those who have the art of discovering where those precious qualities lie. An auctioneer should have the organ of truth large ; of imagina- tion and comparison, considerable ; of wit, great ; of benevolence, excessively large. And how happy might such a man be, and cause others to be ! He should go through the world laughing, merry, observant, kind- hearted. He should love everything in the world, because his pro- fession regards everything. With books of lighter Hterature (for I do not recommend the genteel auctioneer to meddle with heavy antiquarian and philological works) he should be elegantly conversant, being able to give a neat history of the author, a pretty sparkling kind criticism of the work, and an appropriate eulogium upon the binding, which would make those people read who never read be- 350 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS fore ; or buy, at least, which is his first consideration. Of pictures we have already spoken. Of china, of jewellery, of gold-headed canes, valuable arms, picturesque antiquities, with what eloquent entrainement might he not speak ! He feels every one of these things in his heart. He has all the tastes of the fashionable world. Dr. Meyrick cannot be more enthusiastic about an old suit of armour than he : Sir Harris Nicholas not more eloquent regarding the gallant times in which it was worn, and the brave histories con- nected with it. He takes up a pearl necklace with as much delight as any beauty who was sighing to wear it round her own snowy throat, and hugs a china monster with as much joy as the oldest duchess could do. Nor must he affect these things ; he must feel them. He is a glass in which all the tastes of fashion are re- flected. He must be every one of the characters to whom he addresses himself — a genteel Goethe or Shakspeare, a fashionable world-spirit. How can a man be all this and not be a gentleman ; and not have had an education in the midst of the best company — an insight into the most delicate feelings, and wants, and usages ? The pulpit oratory of such a man would be invaluable ; people would flock to listen to him from far and near. He might out of a single teacup cause streams of world-philosophy to flow, which would be drunk in by grateful thousands ; and draw out of an old pincushion points of wit, morals, and experience, that would make a nation wise. Look round, examine the annals op auctions, as Mr. Eobins remarks, and (with every respect for him and his brethren) say, is there in the profession such a man ? Do we want such a man ? Is such a man likely or not likely to make an immense fortune 1 Can we get such a man except out of the very best society, and among the most favoured there ? Everybody answers " No ! " I knew you would answer no. And now, gentlemen who have laughed at my pretension to discover a profession, say, have I not ? I have laid my finjier upon the spot wliere the social deficit exists. I have shown that we labour under a want ; and when the world wants, do we not know that a man will step forth to fill the vacant space that Fate has left him ? Pass we now to the — SECOND PROFESSION THIS profession, too, is a great, lofty, and exceptional one, and discovered by me considering these things and deeply musing upon the necessities of society. Nor let honourable gentle- men imagine that I am enabled to offer them in this profession, more than any other, a promise of what is called future glory, death- less fame, and so forth. All that I say is, that I can put young men in the way of making a comfortable livelihood, and leaving behind them, not a name, but, what is better, a decent mainten- ance to their children. Fitz-Boodle is as good a name as any in England. General Fitz-Boodle, who, in Marlborough's time, and in conjunction with the famous Van Slaap, beat the French in the famous action of Vischzouchee, near Mardyk, in Holland, on the 14th of February 1709, is promised an immortality upon his tomb in Westminster Abbey ; but he died of apoplexj^, deucedly in debt, two years afterwards : and what after that is the use of a name? No, no ; the age of chivalry is past. Take the twenty-four first men who come into the olub, and ask who they are, and how they made their money 1 There's Woolsey-Sackville : his father was Lord Chancellor, and sat on the woolsack, whence he took his title; his grandfather dealt in coal-sacks, and not in wool-sacks, — small coal-sacks, dribbling out little supphes of black diamonds to the poor. Yonder comes Frank Leveson, in a huge broad-brimmed hat, his shirt-cuffs turned up to his elbows. Leveson is as gentle- manly a fellow as the world contains, and if he has a fault, is perhaps too finikin. Well, you fancy him related to the Sutherland family : nor, indeed, does honest Frank deny it ; but entre nous, my good sir, his father was an attorney, and his grandfather a bailiff in Chancery Lane, bearing a name still older than that, of Leveson, namely, Levy. So it is that this confounded equality grows and grows, and has laid the good old nobility by the heels. Look at that venerable Sir Charles Kitely, of Kitely Park : he is interested about the Ashantees, and is just come from Exeter Hall. Kitely discounted bills in the city in the year 1787, and gained his baronetcy by a loan to the French princes. All these points of 352 THE PITZ-BOODLE PAPERS history are perfectly well known ; and do you fancy the world cares ? Psha ! Profession is no disgrace to a man : be what you like, pro- vided you succeed. If Mr. Fauntleroy could come to life with a million of money, you and I would dine with him : you know we would ; for why should we be better than our neighbours ? Put, then, out of your head the idea that this or that profession is unworthy of you : take any that may bring you profit, and thank him that puts you in the way of being rich. The profession I would urge (upon a person duly qualified to undertake it) has, I confess, at the first glance, something ridicu- lous about it ; and will not appear to young ladies so romantic as the calling of a gallant soldier, blazing with glory, gold lace, and vermilion coats ; or a dear delightful clergyman, with a sweet blue eye, and a pocket handkerchief scented charmingly with lavender- water. The profession I aUude to will, I own, be to young women disagreeable, to sober men trivial, to great stupid moralists unworthy. But mark my words for it, that in the religious world (I have once or twice, by mistake no doubt, had the honour of dining in " serious " houses, and can vouch for the fact that the dinners there are of excellent quality) — in the serious world, in the great mercan- tile world, among the legal community (notorious feeders), in every house in town (except some half-dozen which can afford to do with- out such aid), the man I propose might speedily render himself indispensable. Does the reader now begin to take? Have I hinted enough for him that he may see with eagle glance the immense beauty of the profession I am about to unfold to him? We have all seen Gunter and Chevet ; Fregoso, on the Puerta del Sol (a relation of the ex-Minister Calomarde), is a good purveyor enough for the benighted olla-eaters of Madrid ; nor have I any fault to find with Guimard, a Frenchman, who has lately set up in the Toledo, at Naples, where he furnishes people with decent food. It has given me pleasure, too, in walking about London— in the Strand, in Oxford Street, and elsewhere, to see fournisseurs and comestible- merchants newly set up. Messrs. Morell have excellent articles in their warehouses; Fortnum and Mason are known to most of my readers. But what is not known, what is wanted, what is languished for in England i.s a dinner-master, — a gentleman who is not a provider of meat or wine, like the parties before named, who can have no earthly interest in the price of truffled turkeys or dry champagne beyond that legitimate interest which he may feel for his client, and which leads him to see that the latter is not cheated by his tradesmen. For the dinner-giver is almost naturally an FITZ-BOODLE'S PROFESSIONS 353 ignorant man. How in mercy's name can Mr. Serjeant Snorter, who is all day at Westminster, or in chambers, know possibly the mysteries, the delicacy, of dinner-giving? How can Alderman Pogsou know anything beyond the fact that venison is good with currant-jelly, and that he likes lots of green fat with his turtle "i Snorter knows law, Pogson is acquainted with the state of the tallow-market; but what should he know of eating, like you and me, who have given up our time to it 1 (I say me only familiarly, for I have only reached so far in the science as to know that I know nothing.) But men there are, gifted individuals, who have spent years of deep thought — not merely intervals of labour, but hours of study every day — over the gormandising science, — who, like alchemists, have let their fortunes go, guinea by guinea, into the all-devouring pot, — who, ruined as they sometimes are, never get a guinea by chance but they will have a plate of peas in May with it, or a little feast of ortolans, or a piece of Glo'ster salmon, or one more flask from their favourite claret-bin. It is not the ruined gastronomist that I would advise a person to select as his table-master; for the opportunities of peculation would be too great in a position of such confidence — such complete abandonment of one man to another. A ruined man would be making bargains with the tradesmen. They would offer to cash bills for him, or send him opportune presents of wine, which he could convert into money, or bribe him in one way or another. Let this be done, and the profession of table-master is ruined. Snorter and Pogson may ahnost as well order their own dinners, as be at the mercy of a " gastronomic agent " whose faith is not beyond aU question. A vulgar mind, in reply to these remarks regarding the gas- tronomic ignorance of Snorter and Pogson, might say, " True, these gentlemen know nothing of household economy, being occupied with other more important business elsewhere. But what are their wives about 1 Lady Pogson in Harley Street has nothing earthly to do but to mind her poodle, and her mantua-maker's and housekeeper's bills. Mrs. Snorter in Bedford Place, when she has taken her drive in the Park with the young ladies, may surely have time to attend to her husband's guests and preside over the preparations of his kitchen, as she does worthily at his hospitable mahogany." To this I answer, that a man who expects a woman to understand the philosophy of dinner-giving, shows the strongest evidence of a low mind. He is unjust towards that lovely and delicate creature, woman, to suppose that she heartily understands and cares for what she eats and drinks. No : taken as a rule, women have no real appetites. They are children in the gormandising way ; loving 4 z 354 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS sugar, sops, tarts, trifles, apricot-creams, and such gewgaws. They would take a sip of malmsey, and would drink currant-wine just as happily, if that accursed liquor were presented to them by the butler. Did you ever know a woman who could lay her fair hand upon her gentle heart and say on lier conscience that she preferred dry sillery to sparkling champagne ? Such a phenomenon does not exist. They are not made for eating and drinking; or, if they make a pretence to it, become downright odious. Nor can they, I am sure, witness the preparations of a really great repast without a certain jealousy. They grudge spending money (ask guards, coachmen, inn-waiters, whether this be not the case). They will give their all, Heaven bless them ! to serve a son, a grandson, or a dear relative, but tliey have not the heart to pay for small things magnificently. They are jealous of good dinners, and no wonder. I have shown in a former discourse how they are jealous of smoking, and' other personal enjoyments of the male. I say, then, that Lady Pogson or Mrs. Snorter can never conduct her husband's table properly. Fancy either of them consenting to allow a calf to be stewed down into gravy for one dish, or a dozen hares to be sacri- ficed to a single pur<(e of game, or the best madeira to be used for a sauce, or half-a-dozen of champagne to boil a ham in. They will be for bringing a bottle of marsala in place of the old particular, or for having the ham cooked in water. But of these matters — of kitchen philosophy — I have no practical or theoretic knowledge ; and must beg pardon if, only understanding the goodness of a dish when cooked, I may have unconsciously made some blunder regard- ing the preparation. Let it, then, be set down as an axiom, without further trouble of demonstration, that a woman is a bad dinner-caterer : either too great and simple for it, or too mean — I don't know which it is ; and gentlemen, according as they admire or contemn the sex, may settle that matter their own way. In brief, the mental constitution of lovely woman is such that she cannot give a great dinner. It must be done by a man. It can't be done by an ordinary man, because he does not understand it. Vain fool ! and he sends ofl' to the pastrycook in Great Russell Street or Baker Street, he lays on a couple of extra waiters (greengrocers in the neighbourhood), he makes a great pother with his butler in the cellar, and fancies he has done the business. Bon Dieu ! Who has not been at those dinners ? — those mon- strous exhibitions of the pastrycook's art ? Who does not know those made dishes with the universal sauce to each : fricandeaux, sweet- breads, damp dumpy cutlets, &c., seasoned with the compound of grease, onions, bad port-wine, cayenne pepper, curry-powder (Warren's FITZ-BOODLE'S PROFESSIONS 355 blacking, for what I know, but the taste is always the same) — there they lie in the old comer dishes, the poor wiry moselle and sparkling burgundy in the ice-coolers, and the old story of white and brown soup, turbot, little smelts, boiled turkey, saddle-of- mutton, and so forth 1 " Try a little of that fricandeau," says Mrs. Snorter, with a kind smile, "You'll find it, I think, very nice.'' Be sure it has come in a green tray from Great Russell Street. " Mr. Fitz-Boodle, you have been in Germany," cries Snorter knowingly ; " taste the hock, and tell me what you think of that." How should he know better, poor benighted creature ; or she, dear good soul that she is "i If they would have a leg-of-mutton and an apple-pudding, and a glass of sherry and port (or simple brandy- and-water called by its own name) after dinner, all would be very well ; but they must shine, they must dine as their neighbours. There is no difference in the style of dinners in London ; people with five hundred a year treat you exactly as those of five thousand. They will have their moselle or hock, their fatal side-dishes brought in the green trays from the pastrycook's. Well, there is no harm done ; not as regards the dinner-givers at least, though the dinner-eaters may have to suffer somewhat ; it only shows that the former are hospitably inclined, and wish to do the very best in their power, — good honest fellows ! If they do wrong, how can they help it ? they know no better. And now, is it not as clear as the sun at noonday, that a want exists in London for a superintendent of the table^a gastronomic agent — a dinner-master, as I have called him before t A man of such a profession would be a metropolitan benefit ; hundreds of thou- sands of people of the respectable sort, people in white waistcoats, would thank him daily. Calcidate how many dinners are given in the City of London, and calculate the numbers of benedictions that " the Agency " might win. And as no doubt the observant man of the world has re- marked that the freebom Englishman of the respectable class is, of all others, the most slavish and truckling to a lord ; that there is no fly-blown peer but he is pleased to have him at his table, proud beyond measure to call him by his surname (without the lordly prefix) ; and that those lords whom he does not know, he yet (the freebom Englishman) takes care to have their pedigrees and ages by heart from his world-bible, the " Peerage " : as this is an indisputable fact, and as it is in this particular class of Britons that our agent must look to find clients, I need not say it is necessary that the agent should be as high-born as possible, and that he should be able to tack, if possible, an honourable or 356 THE PITZ-BOODLE PAPERS some other handle to his respectable name. He must have it on his professional card — STfjt l^onoutable ffitorgc ffiornmnti ffiobbletnn, Apician Chambers, Pall Mall. Or, Sit augastus ffiarfatt CTamleg CramleE, Amphitryonic Council Office, Swallow Street. Or, in some such neat way, Gothic letters on a large handsome crockery-ware card, with possibly a gUt coat-of-arms and supporters, or the blood-red hand of baronetcy duly displayed. Depend on it plenty of guineas will fall in it, and that Gobbleton's supporters will support him comfortably enough. For this profession is not like that of the auctioneer, which I take to be a far more noble one, because more varied and more truthful ; but in the Agency case, a little humbug at least is necessary. A man cannot be a successful agent by the mere force of his simple merit or genius in eating and drinking. He must of necessity impose upon the vulgar to a certain degree. He must be of that rank which will lead them naturally to respect him, otherwise they might be led to jeer at his profession ; but let a noble exercise it, and, bless your soul, all the " Court Guide " is dumb. He will then give out in a manly and somewhat pompous address what has before been mentioned, namely, that he has seen the fatal way in which the hospitality of England has been perverted hitherto, accapare'd by a few cooks with green trays. (He must use a good deal of French in his language, for that is considered very gentle- manlike by vulgar people.) He will take a set of chambers in Carlton Gardens, which vdW be richly though severely furnished, and the door of which will be opened by a French valet (he must be a Frenchman, remember), who will say, on letting Mr. Snorter or Sir Benjamin Pogson in, that " Milor is at home." Pogson will then be shown into a library furnished with massive bookcases, FITZ-BOODLE'S PKOFESSIONS 357 containing all the works on cookery and wines (the titles of them) in all the known languages in the world. Aiiy books, of course, will do, as you will have them handsomely bound, and keep them under plate-glass. On a side-table will be little sample-bottles of wines, a few trufiles on a white porcelain saucer, a prodigious straw- berry or two, perhaps, at the time when such fruit costs much money. On the bookcase will be busts marked Tide, Oarfeme, Bechamel, in marble (never mind what heads, of course) ; and, perhaps, on the clock should be a figure of the Prince of Condi's cook killing himself because the fish had not arrived in time : there may be a wreath of immortelles on the figure to give it a more decidedly Frenchified air. The walls will be of a dark rich paper, hung round with neat gilt fi-ames, containing plans of merms of various great dinners, — those of Cambac&fes, Napoleon, Louis XIV., Louis XVIII., Heliogabalus if you like, each signed by the respective cook. After the stranger has looked about him at these things, which he does not understand in the least, especially the truffles, which look like dirty potatoes, you will make your appearance, dressed in a dark dress, with one handsome enormous gold chain, and one large diamond ring; a gold snuffbox, of course, which you will thrust into the visitor's paw before saying a word. You will be yourself a portly grave man, with your head a little bald and grey. In fact, in this, as in all other professions, you had best try to look as like Canning as you can. When Pogson has done sneezing with the snuff, you will say to him, "Take a fauteuil. I have the honour of addressing Sir Benjamin Pogson, I believe?" And then you will explain to him your system. This, of course, must vary with every person you address. But let us lay down a few of the heads of a plan which may be useful, or may be modified infinitely, or may be cast aside altogether, just as circuinstances dictate. After all / am not going to turn gastronomic agent, and speak only for the benefit perhaps of the very person who is reading this : — " SYNOPSIS OF THE GASTEONOMIC AGENCY OF THE HONOURABLE GEOBGE GOBBLETON. " The Gastronomic Agent having traversed Europe, and dined with the best society of the world, has been led naturally, as a patriot, to turn his thoughts homeward, and cannot but deplore the lamentable ignorance regarding gastronomy displayed in a country for which Nature has done almost everything. " But it is ever singularly thus. Inherent ignorance belongs to 358 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPEKS man ; and The Agent, in his Continental travels, has always remarked, that the countries most fertile in themselves were invariably worse tilled than those more barren. The Italians and the Spaniards leave their fields- to Nature, as we leave our vegetables, fish, and meat. And, heavens ! what riches do we fling away — what dormant quaUties in our dishes do we disregard — what glorious gastronomic crops (if The Agent may be permitted the expression) — what glorious gastronomic crops do we sacrifice, allowing our goodly meats and fishes to lie fallow ! ' Chance,' it is said by an ingenious historian, who, having been long a secretary in the East India House, must certainly have had access to the best information upon Eastern matters — ' Chance,' it is said by Mr. Charles Lamb, ' which burnt down a Chinaman's house, with a litter of sucking-pigs that were unable to escape from the interior, discovered to the world the excellence of roast-pig.' Gunpowder, we know, was invented by a similar fortuity." [The reader will observe that my style in the supposed character of a Gastronomic Agent is purposely pompous and loud.] " So, 'tis said, was printing — so glass. — We should have drunk our wine poisoned with the villainous odour of the borracha, had not some Eastern merchants, lighting their fires in the desert, marked the strange composition which now glitters on our sideboards, and holds the costly produce of our vines. " We have spoken of the natural riches of a country. Let the reader think but for one moment of the gastronomic wealth of our country of England, and he will be lost in thankful amazement as he watches the astonishing riches poured out upon us from Nature's bounteous cornucopia ! Look at our fisheries ! — the trout and salmon tossing in our brawling streams ; the white and full-breasted turbot struggling in the mariner's net ; the purple lobster lured by hopes of greed into his basket-prison, which he quits only for the red ordeal of the pot. Look at whitebait, great heavens ! — look at whitebait, and a thousand frisking, glittering, silvery things besides, which the nymphs of our native streams bear kindly to the deities of our kitchens — our kitchens such as they are. " And though it may be said that other countries produce the freckle-backed salmon and the dark broad-shouldered turbot ; though trout frequent many a stream besides those of England, and lobsters sprawl on other sands than ours ; yet, let it be remembered, that our native country possesses these altogether, while other lands only know them separately ; that, above all, whitebait is peculiarly our country's — our city's own ! Blessings and eternal praises be on it, and, of course, on brown bread and butter ! And the Briton should further remember, with honest pride and thankfulness, the situation of his capital, of London : the lordly turtle floats from the sea into FITZ-BOODLE'S PROFESSIONS 359 the stream, and from the stream to the city ; the rapid fleets of all the world se donnent rendezvous in the docks of our silvery Thames ; the produce of our coasts and provincial cities, east and west, ia borne to us on the swift lines of lightning railroads. In a word — and no man but one who, like The Agent, has travelled Europe over, can appreciate the gift — there is no city on earth's surface so well supplied with fish as London ! " With respect to our meats, all praise is supererogatory. Ask the wretched hunter of chevreuil, the poor devourer of rehbraten, what they think of the noble English haunch, that, after bounding in the Park of Knole or Windsor, exposes its magnificent flank upon some broad silver platter at our tables? It is enough to say of foreign venison, that they are obliged to lard it. Away ! ours is the pahn of roast : whether of the crisp mutton that crops the thymy herbage of our downs, or the noble ox who revels on lush Althorpian oil-cakes. What game is like to ours 1 Mans excels us in poultry, 'tis true ; but 'tis only in merry England that the partridge has a flavour, that the turkey can almost se passer de truffes, that the jolly juicy goose can be eaten as he deserves. " Our vegetables, moreover, surpass all comment ; Art (by the means of glass) has wrung fruit out of the bosom of Nature, such as she grants to no other clime. And if we have no vine- yards on our hills, we have gold to purchase their best produce. Nature, and enterprise that masters Nature, have done everything for our land. "But; with all these prodigious riches in our power, is it not painful to reflect how absurdly we employ them ? Can we say that we are in the habit of dining well ? Alas, no ! and The Agent, roaming o'er foreign lands, and seeing how, with small means and great ingenuity and perseverance, great ends were efiected, comes back sadly to his own country, whose wealth he sees absurdly wasted, whose energies are misdirected, and whose vast capabilities are allowed to lie idle. ..." [Here should follow what I have only hinted at previously, a vivid and terrible picture of the degradation of our table.] "... Oh, for a master spirit, to give an impetus to the land, to see its great power directed in the right way, and its wealth not squandered or hidden, but nobly put out to interest and spent ! " The Agent dares not hope to win that proud station — to be the destroyer of a barbarous system wallowing in abusive prodigality — to become a dietetic reformer — the Luther of the table. "But convinced of the wrongs which exist, he will do his humble endeavour to set them right, and to those who know that they are ignorant (and this is a vast step to knowledge) he offers 360 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS his counsels, his active co-operation, his frank and kindly sympathy. The Agent's qualifications are these : — " 1. He is of one of the best families in England ; and has in himself, or through his ancestors, been accustomed to good living for centuries. In the reign of Henry V., his maternal great-great- grandfather, Eoger de Gobylton " [the name may be varied, of course, or the king's reign, or the dish invented^ "was the first who discovered the method of roasting a peacock whole, with his tail-feathers displayed; and the dish was served to the two kings at Rouen. Sir Walter Oramley, in Elizabeth's reign, produced before her Majesty, when at Kilhngworth Castle, mackerel with the famous gooseberry sauce, &c. "2. He has, through life, devoted himself to no other study than that of the table : and has visited to that end the Courts of all the monarchs of Europe : taking the receipts of the cooks, with whom he lives on terms of intimate friendship, often at enormous expense to himself " 3. He has the same acquaintance with all the vintages of the Continent; having passed the autumn of 1811 (the comet year) on the great Weinberg of Johannisberg ; being employed similarly at Bordeaux, in 1834; at Oporto, in 1820; and at Xeres de la Frontera, with his excellent friends. Duff, Gordon, & Co., the year after. He travelled to India and back in company with fourteen pipes of madeira (on board of the Samuel Snob East India- man, Captain Scuttler), and spent the vintage season in the island, with unlimited powers of observation granted to him by the great houses there. "4. He has attended Mr. Groves of Charing Cross, and Mr. Giblett of Bond Street, in a course of purchases of fish and meat ; and is able at a glance to recognise the age of mutton, the primeness of beef, the firmness and freshness of fish of all kinds. "5. He has visited the parks, the grouse-manors, and the principal gardens of England, in a similar professional point of view." The Agent then, through his subordinates, engages to provide gentlemen who are about to give dinner-parties — " 1. With cooks to dress the dinners ; a list of which gentlemen he has by him, and will recommend none who are not worthy of the strictest confidence. "2. With a menu for the table, according to the price which the Amphitryon chooses to incur. "3. He will, through correspondences with the various fournis- seurs of the metropolis, provide them with viands, fruit, wine, &c.. FITZ-BOODLE'S PROFESSIONS 36l sending to Paris, if need be, where he has a regular correspondence with Messrs. Chevet. " 4. He has a list of dexterous table-waiters (all answering to the name of John for fear of mistakes, the butler's name to be settled according to pleasure), and would strongly recommend that the servants of the house should be looked in the back-kitchen or servants' hall during the time the dinner takes place. " 5. He will receive and examine all the accounts of the fournis- seurs — of course pledging his honour as a gentleman not to receive one shilling of paltry gratification from the tradesmen he employs, but to see that the bills are more moderate, and their goods of better quality, than they would provide to any person of leas experience than himself. " 6. His fee for superintending a dinner will be five guineas : and The Agent entreats his clients to trust entirely to him and his subordinates for the arrangement of the repast — not to think of inserting dishes of their own invention, or producing wine from their own cellars, as he engages to have it brought in the best order, and fit for immediate drinking. Shojild the Amphitryon, however, desire some particular dish or wine, he must consult The Agent, in the first case by writing, in the second by sending a sample to The Agent's chambers. For it is manifest that the whole complexion of a dinner may be altered by the insertion of a single dish ; and, therefore, parties will do well to mention their wishes on the first interview with The Agent. He cannot be called upon to recompose his biU of fare, except at great risk to the ensemble of the dinner and enormous inconvenience to himself. " 7. The Agent will be at home for consultation from ten o'clock untU two — earlier, if gentlemen who are engaged at early hours in the City desire to have an interview : and be it remembered, that a personal interview is always the best : for it is greatly necessary to know not only the number but the character of the guests whom the Amphitryon proposes to entertain — whether they are fond of any particular wine or dish, what is their state of health, rank, style, profession, &c. "8. At two o'clock he will commence his rounds ; for as the metropolis is wide, it is clear that he must be early in the field in some districts. From 2 till 3 he will be in Russell Square and the neighbourhood ; 3 to 3f , Harley Street, Portland Place, Cavendish Square, and the environs ; 3| to 4J, Portman Square, Gloucester Place, Baker Street, &c. ; 4^ to 5, the new district about Hyde Park Terrace ; 5 to 5f , St. John's Wood and the Regent's Park. He will be in Grosvenor Square by 6 ; and in Belgrave Square, Pimlico, and its vicinity, by 7. Parties there are requested not 362 THE FITZ-BOODLE PAPERS to dine until 8 o'clock : and The Agent, once for all, peremptorily announces that he will not go to the Palace, where it is utterly- impossible to serve a good dinner." " To Tradesmen. "Every Monday evening during the season the Gastronomic Agent proposes to give a series of trial dinners, to which the prin- cipal gourmands of the metropolis, and a few of The Agent's most respectable clients, will be invited. Covers wUl be laid for ten at nine o'clock precisely. And as The Agent does not propose to exact a single shilling of profit from their bills, and as his recommenda- tion will be of infinite value to them, the tradesmen he employs will furnish the weekly dinner gratis. Cooks will attend (who have acknowledged characters) upon the same terms. To save trouble, a book wiU be kept where butchers, poulterers, fishmongers, &c., may inscribe their names in order, taking it by turns to supply the trial-table. Wine-merchants wiU naturally compete every week promiscuously, sending what they consider their best samples, and leaving with the hall-porter tickets of the prices. Confectionery to be done out of the house. Fruiterers, market-men, as butchers and poulterers. The Agent's maitre-d'hdtel will give a receipt to each individual for the articles he produces ; and let all remember that The Agent is a very Tceen judge, and woe betide those who serve him or his clients 01 ! "Geoege Goemand Gobbleton. "Carlton Gardens: Jtme 10, 1842." Here I have sketched out the heads of such an address as I conceive a gastronomic agent might put forth ; and appeal pretty confidently to the British public regarding its merits and my own discovery. If this be not a profession — a new one — a feasible one — a lucrative one, — I don't know what is. Say that a man attends but fifteen dinners daily, that is seventy-five guineas, or five hundred and fifty pounds weekly, or fourteen thousand three hundred pounds for a season of six months : and how many of our younger sous have such a capital even 1 Let, then, some unemployed gentleman with the requisite qualifications come forward. It will not be necessary that he should have done all that is stated in the prospectus ; but, at any rate, let him say he has : there can't be much harm in an innocent fib of that sort ; for the gastronomic agent must be a sort of dinner-pope, whose opinions cannot be supposed to err. And as he really will be an excellent judge of eating and drink- ing, and will bring his whole mind to bear upon the question, and FITZ-BOODLE'S PEOFESSIONS 363 will speedily acquire an experience which no person out of the profession can possibly have ; and as, moreover, he will be an honourable man, not practising upon his client in any way, or demanding sixpence beyond his just fee, the world will gain vastly by the coming forward of such a person, — gain in good dinners, and absolutely save money : for what is five guineas for a dinner of sixteen ? The sum may be gaspilU by a cook-wench, or by one of those abominable before -named pastrycooks with their green trays. If any man take up the' business, he will invite me, of course, to the Monday dinners. Or does ingratitude go so far as that a man should forget the author .of his good fortune ? I beheve it does. Turn we away from the sickening theme ! And now, having concluded my professions, how shall I express my obligations to the discriminating press of this country for the unanimous applause which hailed my first appearance ? It is the more wonderful, as I pledge my sacred word, I never wrote a document before much longer than a laundress's bill, or the accept- ance of an invitation to dinner. But enough of this egotism : thanks for praise conferred sound like vanity ; gratitude is hard to speak of, and at present it swells the full heart of Geokge Savage Fitz-Boodlb. MEN'S WIVES MEN'S WIYES By G. FITZ-BOODLE THE RAVENSWINQ CHAPTER I IfHICH IS ENTIRELY INTRODUCTORY—CONTAINS AN ACCOUNT OF MISS CRUMP, HER SUITORS, AND HER FAMILY CIRCLE IN a certain quiet and sequestered nook of the retired village of London — perhaps in the neighbourhood of Berkeley Square, or at any rate somewhere near Burlington G^irdens — there was once a house of entertainment called the " Bootjack Hotel." Mr. Crump, the landlord, had, in the outset of life, performed the duties of Boots in some 'inn even more frequented than his own, and, far from being ashamed of his origin, as many persons are in the days of their prosperity, had thus solemnly recorded it over the hospi- table gate of his hotel. Crump married Miss Budge, so well known to the admirers of the festive dance on the other side of the water as Miss Delancy ; and they had one daughter, named Morgiana, after that celebrated part in the "Forty Thieves" which Miss Budge performed with unbounded applause both at the " Surrey " and " The Wells." Mrs. Crump sat in a little bar, profusely ornamented with pictures of the dancers of all ages, from Hillisberg, Rose, Parisot, who plied the light fantastic toe in 1805, down to the Sylphides of our day. There was in the collection a charming portrait of herself, done by De WUde ; she was in the dress of Morgiana, and in the act of pouring, to very slow music, a quantity of boiling oil into oue of the forty jars. In this sanctuary she sat, with black eyes, black hair, a purple face and a turban, and morning, noon, or night, as you went into the parlour of the hotel, there was Mrs. Crump taking tea (with a little something in it) looking at the fashions, or 368 MEN'S WIVES reading Cumberland's "British Theatre." The Sunday Times was her paper, for she voted the Dispatch, that journal which is taken in by most ladies of her profession, to be vulgar and Radical, and loved the theatrical gossip in which the other mentioned journal abounds. The fact is, that the " Eoyal Bootjack," though a humble, was a very genteel house ; and a very little persuasion would induce Mr. Crump, as he looked at his own door in the sun, to tell you that he had himself once drawn oif with that very bootjack the top- boots of His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales and the first gentleman in Europe. While, then, the houses of entertainment in the neighbourhood were loud in their pretended Liberal politics, the "Bootjack" stuck to the good old Conservative line, and was only frequented by such persons as were of that way of thinking. There were two parlours, much accustomed, one for the gentlemen of the shoulder-knot, who came from the houses of their employers hard by; another for some "gents who used the 'ouse," as Mrs. Crump would say (Heaven bless her !) in her simple Oookniac dialect, and who formed a little club there. I forgot to say that while Mrs. 0. was sipping her eternal tea or washing up her endless blue china, you might often hear Miss Morgiana employed at the little red-silk cottage piano, sin,ging, " Come where the haspens quiver," or " Bonny lad, march over hill and furrow," or " My art and lute," or any other popular piece of the day. And the dear girl sang with very considerable skill, too, for she had a fine loud voice, which, if not always*in tune, made up for that defect by its great energy and activity ; and Morgiana was not content with singing the mere tune, but gave every one of the roulades, flourishes, and ornaments as she heard them at the theatres by Mrs. Humby, Mrs. Waylett, or Madame Vestris. The girl had a fine black eye like her mamma, a grand enthusiasm for the stage, as every actor's child will have, and, if the truth must be known, had appeared many and many a time at the theatre in Catherine Street, in minor parts first, and then in Little Pickle, in Desde- mona, in Rosina, and in Miss Foote's part where she used to dance : I have not the name to my hand, but think it is Davidson. Four times in the week, at least, her mother and she used to sail off at night to some place of public amusement, for Mrs. Crump had a mysterious acquaintance with all sorts of theatrical personages ; and the gates of her old haunt "The Wells," of the "Cobourg" (by the kind permission of Mrs. Davidge), nay, of the "Lane" and the "Market" themselves flew open before her "Open sesame," as the robbers' door did to her colleague, All Baba (Hornbuckle), in the operatic piece in which she was so famous. THE RAVENSWING 369 Beer was Mr. Crump'a beverage, diversified by a little gin, in* the evenings ; and little need be said of this gentleman, except that he discharged his duties honourably, and filled the president's chair at the club as completely as it could possibly be filled ; for he could not even sit in it in his greatcoat, so accurately was the seat adapted to him. His wife and daughter, perhaps, thought some- what slightingly of him, for he had no literary tastes, and had never been at a theatre since he took his bride from one. He was valet to Lord Slapper at the time, and certain it is that his lordship set him up in the " Bootjack," and that stories had been told. But what are such to you or me? Let bygones be bygones; Mrs. Crump was quite as honest as her neighbours, and Miss had five hundred pounds to be paid down on the day of her wedding. Those who know the habits of the British tradesman are aware that he has gregarious propensities like any lord in the land ; that he loves a joke, that he is not averse to a glass ; that after the day's toil he is happy to consort with men of his degree ; and that as society is not so far advanced among us as to allow him to enjoy the comforts of splendid club-houses, which are open to many persons with not a tenth part of his pecuniary means, he meets his friends in the cosy tavern parlour, where a neat sanded floor, a large Windsor chair, and a glass of hot something and water, make him as happy as any of the clubmen in their magnificent saloons. At the "Bootjack" was, as we have said, a very genteel and select society, called the " Kidney Club," from the fact that on Saturday evenings a little graceful supper of broiled kidneys was usually discussed by the members of the club. Saturday was their grand night ; not but that they met on all other nights in the week when inclined for festivity: and indeed some of them could not come on Saturdays in the summer, having elegant villas in the suburbs, where they passed the six-and-thirty hours of recreation that are happily to be found at the end of every week. There was Mr. Balls, the great grocer of South Audley Street, a warm man, who, they say, had his twenty thousand pounds ; Jack Snaffle, of the mews hard by, a capital fellow for a song ; Clinker, the ironmonger : all married gentlemen, and in the best line of business ; Tressle, the undertaker, &c. No liveries were admitted into the room, as may be imagined, but one or two select butlers and major-domos joined the circle ; for the persons composing it knew very well how important it was to be on good terms with these gentlemen : and many a time my lord's account would never have been paid, and my lady's large order never have been given, but for the conversation which took place at the " Bootjack," and 370 MEN'S WIVES the friendly intercourse subsisting between all the members of the society. The tiptop men of the society were two bachelors, and two as fashionable tradesmen as any in the town : Mr. Woolsey, from Stultz's, of the famous house of Linsey, Woolsey, & Co., of Conduit Street, Tailors ; and Mr. Eglantine, the celebrated perruquier and perfumer of Bond Street, whose soaps, razors, and patent ventilating scalps are known throughout Europe. Linsey, the senior partner of the tailors' firm, had his handsome mansion in Eegent's Park, drove his buggy, and did little more than lend his name to the house. Woolsey lived in it, was the working man of the firm, and it was said that his cut was as magnificent as that of any man in the pro- fession. Woolsey and Eglantine were rivals in many ways — rivals in fashion, rivals in wit, and, above all, rivals for the hand of an amiable young lady whom we have already mentioned, the dark- eyed songstress Morgiana Crump. They were both desperately in love with her, that was the truth ; and each, in the absence of the other, abused his rival lieartily. Of the hairdresser Woolsey said, that as for Eglantine being his real name, it was all his (Mr. Woolsey's) eye ; that he was in the hands of the Jews, and his stock and grand shop eaten up by usury. And with regard to Woolsey, Eglantine remarked, that his pretence of being descended from the Cardinal was all nonsense; that he was a partner, certainly, in the firm, but had only a sixteenth share ; and that the firm could never get their moneys in, and had an immense number of bad debts in their books. As is usual, there was a great deal of truth and a great deal of malice in these tales ; however, the gentlemen were, take them all in all, in a very fashionable way of business, and had their claims to Miss Morgiana's hand backed by the parents. Mr. Crump was a partisan of the tailor ; while Mrs. 0. was a strong advocate for the claims of the enticing perfumer. Now, it was a curious fact, that these two gentlemen were each in need of the other's services — Woolsey being afflicted with pre- mature baldness, or some other necessity for a wig still more fatal — Eglantine being a very fat man, who required much art to make his figure at aU decent. He wore a brown frock-coat and frogs, and attempted by aU sorts of contrivances to hide his obesity; but Woolsey's remark, that, dress as he would, he would always look like a snob, and that there was only one man in England who could make a gentleman of him, went to the perfumer's soul ; and if there was one thing on earth he longed for (not including the hand 6f Miss Crump) it was to have a coat from Linsey's, in which costume he was sui-e that Morgiana would not resist him. If Eglantine was imeasy about the coat, on the other hand he THE EAVENSWING 371 attacked Woolsey atrociously on the score of his wig ; for though the latter went to the best makers, he never could get a peruke to sit naturally upon him ; and the unhappy epithet of Mr. Wiggins, applied to him on one occasion by the barber, stuck to him ever after in the club, and made him writhe when it was uttered. Each man would have quitted the " Kidneys " in disgust long since, but for the other — for each had an attraction in the place, and dared not leave the field in possession of his rival. To do Miss Morgiana justice, it must be ^aid, that she did not encourage one more than another ; but as far as accepting eau-de- cologne and hair-combs from the perfumer — some opera tickets, a treat to Greenwich, and a piece of real Genoa velvet for a bonnet (it had originally been intended for a waistcoat), from the admiring tailor, she had been equally kind to each, and in return had made each a present of a lock of her beautiful glossy hair. It was all she had to give, poor girl ! and what could she do but gratify her admirers by this cheap and artless testimony of her regard ? A pretty scene and quarrel took place between the rivals on the day when they discovered that each was in possession of one of Morgiana's ringlets. Such, then, were the owners and inmates of the little " Bootjack," from whom and which, as this chapter is exceedingly discursive and descriptive, we must separate the reader for a while, and carry him — it is only into Bond Street, so no gentleman need be afraid — carry him into Bond Street, where some other personages are awaiting his consideration. Not far from Mr. Eglantine's shop in Bond Street, stand, as is very well known, the Windsor Chambers. The West Diddlesex Associar tion (Western Branch), the British and Foreign Soap Company, the celebrated attorneys Kite and Levison, have their respective offices here ; and as the names of the other inhabitants of the chambers are not only painted on the waUs, but also registered in Mr. Boyle's " Court Guide," it is quite unnecessary that they shoidd be repeated here. Among them, on the entresol (between the splendid saloons of the Soap Company on the first floor, with their statue of Britannia presenting a packet of the soap to Europe, Asia, Africa, and America, and the West Diddlesex Western Branch on the basement)— lives a gentleman by the name of Mr. Howard Walker. The brass plate on the door of that gentleman's chambers had the word " Agency " inscribed beneath his name ; and we are therefore at liberty to imagine that he followed that mysterious occupation. In person Mr! Walker was very genteel ; he had large whiskers, dark eyes (with a slight cast in them), a cane, and a velvet waistcoat. He was a member of a club ; had an admission to the 372 MEN'S WIVES opera, and knew every face behind the scenes ; and was in the habit of using a number of French phrases in his conversation, having picked up a smattering of that language during a residence " on the Continent;" in fact, he had found it very convenient at various times of his life to dwell in the city of Boulogne, where he acquired a knowledge of smoking, ^cart^, and bUliards, which was afterwards of gi-eat service to him. He knew all the best tables in town, and the marker at Hunt's could only give him ten. He had some fashionable acquaintances too, and you might see him walking arm- in-arm with such gentlemen as my Lord Vauxhall, the Marquess of Billingsgate, or Captain Buff; and at the same time nodding to young Bloses, the dandy bailiff; or Loder, the gambling -house keeper ; or Aminadab, the cigar-seller in the Quadrant. Sometimes he wore a pair of moustaches, and was called Captain Walker ; grounding his claim to that title upon the fact of having once held a commission in the service of Her Majesty the Queen of Portugal. It scarcely need be said that he had been through the Insolvent Court many times. But to those who did not know his history intimately there was some difficulty in identifying him with the individual who had so taken the benefit of the law, inasmuch as in his schedule his name appeared as Hooker Walker, wine-merchant, commission-agent, music-seller, or what not. The fact is, that though he preferred to call himself Howard, Hooker was his Christian name, and it had been bestowed on him by his worthy old father, who was a clergyman, and had intended his son for that profession. But as the old gentleman died in York gaol, where he was a prisoner for debt, he was never able to put his pious intentions with regard to his son into execution ; and the young fellow (as he was wont with many oaths to assert) was thrown on his own resources, and became a man of the world at a very early age. What Mr. Howard Walker's age was at the time of the com- mencement of this history, and, indeed, for an indefinite period before or afterwards, it is impossible to determine. If he were eight-and-twenty, as he asserted himself, Time had dealt hardly with him ; his hair was thin, there were many crows'-feet about his eyes, and other signs in his countenance of the progress of decay. If, on the contrary, he were forty, as Sam Snaffle declared, who himself had misfortunes in early life, and vowed he knew Mr. Walker in Whitecross Street Prison in 1820, he was a very young-looking person considering his age. His figure was active and slim, his leg neat, and he had not in his whiskers a single white hair. It must, however, be owned that he used Mr. Eglantine's Eegener- ative Unction (which will make your whiskers as black as your boot), and, in fact, he was a pretty constant visitor at that gentleman's THE EAVENSWING 373 emporium ; dealing with him largely for soaps aud articles of per- fumery, which he had at an exceedingly low rate. Indeed, he was never known to pay Mr. Eglantine one single shilling for those objects of luxury, and, having them on such moderate terms, was enabled to indulge in them pretty copiously. Thus Mr. Walker was almost as great a nosegay as Mr. Eglantine himself : his handkerchief was scented with verbena, his hair with jessamine, and his eoat had usually a fine perfume of cigars, which rendered his presence in a small room almost instantaneously remarkable. I have described Mr. Walker thus accurately, because, in truth, it is more with char- acters than with astounding events that this little history deals, and Mr. Walker is one of the principal of our dramatis personal. And so, having introduced Mr. W., we will walk over with him to Mr. Eglantine's emporium, where that gentleman is in waiting, too, to have his likeness taken. There is about an acre of plate glass under the Eoyal arms on Mr. Eglantine's shop-window ; and at night, when the gas is lighted, and the washbaJls are illuminated, and the lambent flame plays fit- fully over numberless bottles of vari-coloured perfumes — now flashes on a case of razors, and now lightens up a crystal vase, containing a hundred thousand of his patent toothbrushes — the effect of the sight may be imagined. You don't suppose that he is a creature who has those odious, simpering wax figures in his window, that are called by the vulgar dummies '! He is above such a wretched artifice ; and it is my belief that he would as soon have his own head chopped off, and placed as a trunkless decoration to his shop-window, as allow a dummy to figure there. On one pane you read in elegant gold letters "Eglantinia" — 'tis his essence for the handkerchief; on the other is written " Regenerative Unction " — 'tis his invaluable pomatum for the hair. There is no doubt about it : Eglantine's knowledge of his pro- fession amounts to genius. He sells a cake of soap for seven shillings, for which another man would not get a shilling, and his toothbrushes go off like wildfire at half-a-guiuea apiece. If he has to administer rouge or pearl-powder to ladies, he does it with a mystery and fascin- ation which there is no resisting, and the ladies believe there are no cosmetics like his. He gives his wares unheard-of names, and obtains for them sums equally prodigious. He can dress hair — that is a fact — as few men in this age can ; and has been known to take twenty pounds in a single jiight from as many of the first ladies of England when ringlets were in fashion. The introduction of bands, he says, made a difference of two thousand pounds a year in his income ; and if there is one thing in the world he hates and despises, it is a Madonna. " I'm not," says he, " a tradesman — I'm a hartist" (Mr. 374 MEN'S WIVES Eglantine was born in London) — " I'm a hartist ; and show me a fine 'ead of 'air, and I'll dress it for nothink." He vows that it was his way of dressing Mademoiselle Sontag's hair, that caused the count her husband to fall in love with her ; and he has a lock of it in a brooch, and says it was the finest head he ever saw, except one, and that was Morgiana Crump's. With his genius and his position in the profession, how comes it, then, that Mr. Eglantine was not a man of fortune, as many a less clever has been 1 If the truth must be told, he loved pleasure, and was in the hands of the Jews. He had been in business twenty years : he had borrowed a thousand pounds to purchase his stock and shop ; and he calculated that he had paid upwards of twenty thousand pounds for the use of the one thousand, which was stUl as much due as on the first day when he entered business. He could show that he had received a thousand dozen of champagne from the disinterested money-dealers with whom he usually negotiated his paper. He had pictures all over his "studios," which had been purchased in the same bargains. If he sold his goods at an enormous price, he paid for them at a rate almost equally exorbitant. There was not an article in his shop but came to him through his Israelite providers; and in the very front shop itself sat a gentleman who was the nominee of one of them, and who was called Mr. Mossrose. He was there to superintend the cash account, and to see that certain instalments were paid to his principals, according to certain agree- ments entered into between Mr. Eglantine and them. Having that sort of opinion of Mr. Mossrose which Damocles may have had of the sword which hung over his head, of course Mr. Eglantine hated his foreman profoundly. " ffe an artist ! " would the former gentleman exclaim ; " why, he's only a disguised bailiif 1 Mossrose indeed ! The chap's name's Amos, and he sold oranges before he came here." Mr. Mossrose, on his side, utterly despised Mr. Eglantine, and looked forward to the day when he would become the proprietor of the shop, and take Eglantine for a foreman ; and then it would be Ins turn to sneer and bully, and ride the high horse. Thus it will be seen that there was a skeleton in the great per- fumer's house, as the saying is : a worm in his heart's core, and though to all appearance prosperous, he was really in an awkward position. What Mr. Eglantine's relations were with Mr. Walker may be imagined from the following dialogue which took place between the two gentlemen at five o'clock one summer's aft.ernoon, when Mr. Walker, issuing from his chambers, came across to the perfumer's shop : — "Is Eglantine at home, Mr. Mossrose?" said Walker to the foreman, who sat in the front shop. THE RAVENSWING 375 " Don't know — go and look " (meaning go and be hanged) ; for Mossrose also hated Mr. Walker. " If you're uncivil I'll break your bones, Mr. Amos," says Mr. Walker sternly. "I should like to see you try, Mr. Hooker Walker," replies the undaunted shopman ; on which the Captain, looking several tremendous canings at him, walked into the back room or "studio." " How are you, Tiny, my buck 1 " says the Captain. " Much • doing ■? " " Not a soul in town. I 'aven't touched the hirons all day," repKed Mr. Eglantine, in rather a desponding way. " WeU, just get them ready now, and give my whiskers a turn. I'm going to dine with Billingsgate and some out-and-out fellows at the ' Regent,' and so, my lad, just do your best." "I can't," says Mr. Eglantine. "I expect ladies. Captain, every minute." "Very good; I don't want to trouble such a great man, I'm siu^e. Good-bye, and let me hear from you this day week, Mr. Eglantine." " This day week " meant that at seven days from that time a certain bill accepted by Mr. Eglantine would be due, and presented for payment. "Don't be in such a hurry. Captain — do sit down. I'U curl you in one minute. And, I say, won't the party renew ? " " Impossible — it's the third renewal." " But I'll make the thing handsome to you ; — indeed I will." " How much 1 " " Will ten pounds do the business 1 " " What ! offer my principal ten pounds ? Axe you mad. Eglan- tine 1 — A little more of the iron to the left whisker." " No, I meant for commission." " WeU, I'll see if that will do. The party I deal with. Eglan- tine, has power, I know, and can defer the matter no doubt. As for me, you know, I've nothing to do in the affair, and only act as a friend between you and him. I give you my honour and sold, I do." " I know you do, my dear sir." The last two speeches were lies. The perfumer knew perfectly well that Mr. Walker would pocket the ten pounds ; but he was too easy to care for paying it, and too timid to quarrel with such a powerful friend. And he had on three different occasions already paid ten pounds fine for the renewal of the bill in question, all of which bonuses he knew went to his friend Mr. Walker. Here, too, the reader will perceive what was, in part, the meaning of the word " Agency " on Mr. Walker's door. He was 376 MEN'S WIVES a go-between between money-lenders and borrowers in this world, and certain small suras always remained with him in the course of the transaction. He was an agent for wine, too ; an agent for places to be had through the influence of great men ; he was an agent for half-a-dozen theatrical people, male and female, and had the interests of the latter especially, it was said, at heart. Such were a few of the means by which this worthy gentleman contrived to support himself, and if, as he was fond of high living, gambling, and pleasures of all kinds, his revenue was not large enough for his expenditure — why, he got into debt, and settled his bills that way. He ^was as much at home in the Fleet, as in PaU Mall, and quite as happy in the one place as in the other. "That's the way I take things," would this philosopher say. "If I've money, I spend ; if I've credit, I borrow ; if I'm dunned, I white- wash; and so you can't beat me down." Happy elasticity of temperament ! I do believe that, in spite of his misfortunes and precarious position, there was no man in England whose conscience was more calm, and whose slumbers were more tranquil, than those of Captain Howard Walker. As he was sitting under the hands of Mr. Eglantine, he reverted to " the ladies," whom the latter gentleman professed to expect ; said he was a sly dog, a lucky ditto, and asked him if the ladies were handsome. Eglantine thought there could be no harm in telling a bouncer to a gentleman with whom he was engaged in money transactions ; and so, to give the Captain an idea of his solvency and the bril- liancy of his future prospects, " Captain," said he, " I've got a hundred and eighty pounds out with you, which you were obliging enough to negotiate for me. Have I, or have I not, two bills out to that amount 1 " " Well, my good fellow, you certainly have ; and what then ? " "What then? Why, I bet you five pounds to one, that in three months those bills are paid." " Done ! five pounds to one. I take it.'' This sudden closing with him made the perfumer rather uneasy ; but he was not to pay for three months, and so he said " Done ! " too, and went on : " What would you say if your biUs were paid ? " " Not mine ; Pike's." " Well, if Pike's were paid ; and the Minories man paid, and every single liability I have cleared ofi'; and that Mossrose flung out of winder, and me and my emporium as free as hair 1 " "You don't say so? Is Queen Anne dead? and has she left you a fortune ? or what's the luck in the wind now 1 " " It's better than Queen Anne, or anybody dying. What should THE RAVENSWING 377 you say to seeing in that -very place where Mossrose now sits (hang him !) — seeing the finest head of 'air now in Europe ? A woman, I tell you — a slap-up lovely woman, who, I'm proud to say, will soon be called Mrs. Heglantine, and will bring me five thousand pounds to her fortune." " Well, Tiny, this is good luck indeed. I say, you'll be able to do a bill or two for me then, hay ? You won't forget an old friend?" . "That I won't. I shall have a place at my board for you, Capting; and many's the time I shall 'ope to see you under that ma'ogany." "What will the French milliner say? She'll hang herself for despair. Eglantine." " Hush ! not a word about 'er. I've sown all my wild oats, I tell you. Eglantine is no longer the gay young bachelor, but the sober married man. I want a heart to share the feelings of mine. I want repose. I'm not so young as I was : I feel it." " Pooh ! pooh ! you are — you are " " Well, but I sigh for an 'appy fireside ; and I'll have it." " And give up that club which you belong to, hay ? " " ' The Kidneys ? ' Oh ! of course, no married man should belong to such places : at least, I'M not ; and I'll have my kidneys broiled at home. But be quiet. Captain, if you please ; the ladies appointed to " " And is it the lady you expect % eh, you rogue ! " "Well, get along. It's her and her ma." But Mr. Walker determined he wouldn't get along, and would see these lovely ladies before he stirred. The operation on Mr. Walker's whiskers being concluded, he was arranging his toilet before the glass in an agreeable attitude : his neck out, his enormous pin settled in his stock to his satisfac- tion, his eyes complacently directed towards the reflection of his left and favourite whisker. Eglantine was laid on a settee, in an easy, though melancholy posture ; he was twiddling the tongs with which he had just operated on Walker with one hand, and his right-hand ringlet with the other, and he was thinking — thinking of Morgiana ; and then of the bill which was to become due on the 16th; and then of a light-blue velvet waistcoat with gold sprigs, in which he looked very killing, and so was trudging round in his little circle of loves, fears, and vanities. " Hang it ! " Mr. Walker was thinking, " I am a handsome man. A pair of whiskers like mine are not met with every day. If anybody can see that my tuft is dyed, may I be " When the door was flung open, and a large lady with a curl on the forehead, yellow shawl, a green velvet bonnet with 378 MEN'S WIVES feathers, half-boots, and a drab gown with tulips and other large exotics painted on it — when, in a word, Mrs. Crump and her daughter bounced into the room. "Here we are, Mr. E.," cries Mrs. Crump, in a gay foldtre confidential air. " But law ! there's a gent in the room ! " "Don't mind me, ladies," said the gent alluded to, in his fascinating way. " I'm a friend of Eglantine's ; ain't I, Egg ? a chip of the old block, hay ? " " That you are," said the perfumer, starting up. "An 'air-dresser?" asked Mrs. Crump. "Well, I thought he was ; there's something, Mr. E., in gentlemen of your profession so exceeding, so uncommon distangy." " Madam, you do me proud," replied the gentleman so compli- mented, with great presence of mind. " Will you allow me to try my skill upon you, or upon Miss, your lovely daughter? I'm not so clever as Eglantine, but no bad hand, I assure you." " Nonsense, Captain," interrupted the perfumer, who was un- comfortable somehow at the rencontre between the Captain and the object of his affection. " He's not in the profession, Mrs. 0. This is my friend Captain Walker, and proud I am to call him my friend." And then aside to Mrs. C, " One of the first swells on town, ma'am — a regular tiptopper." Humouring the mistake which Mrs. Crump had just made, Mr. Walker thrust the curling-irons into the fire in a minute, and looked round at the ladies with such a fascinating grace, that both, now made acquainted with his quality, blushed and giggled, and were quite pleased. Mamma looked at 'G-ina, and 'Gina looked at mamma ; and then mamma gave 'Gina a little blow in the region of her little waist, and then both burst out laughing, as ladies will laugh, and as, let us trust, they may laugh for ever and ever. Why need there be a reason for laughing 1 Let us laugh when we are laughy, as we sleep when we are sleepy. And so Mrs. Crump and her demoiselle laughed to their hearts' content ; and both fixed their large shining black eyes repeatedly on Mr. Walker. "I won't leave the room," said he, coming forward with the heated iron in his hand, and smoothing it on the brown paper with all the dexterity of a professor (for the fact is, Mr. W. every morning curled his own immense whiskers with the greatest skill and care) — " I won't leave the room, Eglantine my boy. My lady here took me for a hairdresser, and so, you know, I've a right to stay." " He can't stay," said Mrs. Crump, all of a sudden, blushing as red as a peony. "I shall have on my peignoir, mamma," said Miss, looking THE RAVENSWING 379 at the gentleman, and then dropping down her eyes and blush- ing too. " But he can't stay, 'Gina, I tell you : do you think that I would, before a gentleman, take off my " " Mamma means her front ! " said Miss, jumping up, and beginning to laugh with all her might ; at which the honest land- lady of the " Bootjack," who loved a joke, although at her own expense, laughed too, and said that no one, except Mr. Crump and Mr. Eglantine, ha " Mr. Clodpole, whose name was really Bullock, stated that his wages amounted to "three shillings and a puddn." " Three shillings and a puddn ! — monstrous ! — and for this you toil like a galley-slave, as I have seen them in Turkey and America, — ay, gentlemen, and in the country of Prester John ! You shiver out of bed on icy winter mornings, to break the ice for Ball and Dapple to drink." "Yes, indeed," said the person addressed, who seemed astounded at the extent of the Corporal's information. " Or you clean pig-sty, and take dung down to meadow ; or you act watch-dog and tend sheep ; or you sweep a scythe over a great field of grass ; and when the sun has scorclied the eyes out of your head, and sweated the flesh off your bones, and well-nigh fried the soul out of your body, you go home, to what? — three shillings a week and a puddn ! Do you get pudding every day ? " " No ; only Sundays." " Do you get money enough 1 " "No, sure." " Do you get beer enough ? " " Oh no, NEVER ! " said Mr. BuUock, quite resolutely. " Worthy Clodpole, give us thy hand : it shall have beer enough this day, or my name's not Corporal Brock. Here's the money, boy ! there are twenty pieces in this jjurse : and how do you think I got 530 CATHERINE: A STORY 'em ? and how do you think I shall get others when these are gone '( — hy serving Her Sacred Majesty, to be sure : long life to her, and down with the French King ! " Bullock, a few of the men, and two or three of the boys, piped out an hurrah, in compliment to this speech of the Corporal's : but it was remarked that the greater part of the crowd drew back — the women whispering ominously to them and looking at the Corporal. " I see, ladies, what it is," said he. " You are frightened, and think I am a crimp come to steal your sweethearts away. What ! call Peter Brock a double-dealer 1 I tell you what, boys. Jack Oliurchill himself has shaken this hand, and drunk a pot with me : do you think he'd shake hands with a rogue? Here's Tummas Olodpole has never had beer enough, and here am I will stand treat to him and any other gentleman : am I good enough company for him 1 I have money, look you, and like to spend it : what should / be doing dirty actions for — hay, Tummas 1 " A satisfactory reply to this query was not, of course, expected by the Corporal, nor uttered by Mr. Bullock ; and the end of the dispute was, that he and three or four of the rustic bystanders were quite convinced of the good intentions of their new fHend, and accompanied him back to the " Bugle," to regale upon the promised beer. Among the Corporal's guests was one young fellow whose dress would show that he was somewhat better to do in the world than Clodpolc and the rest of the sunburnt ragged troop, who were marching towards the alehouse. This man was the only one of his hearers who, perhaps, was sceptical as to the truth of his stories ; but as soon as Bullock accepted the invitation to drink, John Hayes, the carpenter (for such was his name and profession), said, " Well, Thomas, if thou goest, I will go too." " I know thee wilt," said Thomas : " thou'lt goo anywhere Catty Hall is, provided thou canst goo for nothing." " Nay, I have a penny to spend as good as the Corporal here." " A penny to keep, you mean : for all your love for the lass at the 'Bugle,' did thee ever spend a shilling in the house? Thee wouldn't go now, but that I am going too, and the Captain here stands treat." " Come, come, gentlemen, no quarrelling," said Mr. Brock. " If this pretty fellow will join us, amen say I : there's lots of liquor, and plenty of money to pay the score. Comrade Tummas, give us thy arm. Mr. Hayes, you're a hearty cock, I make no doubt, and all such are welcome. Come along, my gentleman farmers, Mr. Brook shall have the honom- to pay for you all." And with this. Corporal Brock, accompanied by Messrs. Hayes, Bullock, Blacksmith, MR. JOHN HAYES 581 Baker's-boy, Butcher, and one or two others, adjourned to the inn ; the horses being, at the same time, conducted to the stable. Although we have, in this quiet way, and without any flourish- ing of trumpets, or beginning of chapters, introduced Mr. Hayes to the public ; and although, at first sight, a sneaking carpenter's boy may seem hardly worthy of the notice of an intelligent reader, who looks for a good cut-throat or highwayman for a hero, or a pickpocket at the very least : this gentleman's words and actions should be careftdly studied by the public, as he is destined to appear before them under very polite and curious circumstances during the course of this history. The speech of the rustic Juvenal, Mr. Olodpole, had seemed to infer that Hayes was at once careful of his money and a warm admirer of Mrs. Catherine of the " Bugle " : and both the charges were perfectly true. Hayes's father was reported to be a man of some substance ; and young John, who was performing his apprenticeship in the village, did not fail to talk very big of his pretensions to fortune — of his entering, at the close of his indentures, into partnership with his father — and of the comfortable farm and house over which Mrs. John Hayes, whoever she might be, would one day preside. Thus, next to the barber and butcher, and above even his own master, Mr. Hayes took rank in the village : and it must not be concealed that his representation of wealth had made some impression upon Mrs. Hall, towards whom the young gentleman had cast the eyes of affection. If he had been tolerably well- looking, and not pale, rickety, and feeble as he was ; if even he had been ugly, but withal a man of spirit, it is probable the girl's kind- ness for him would have been much more decided. But he was a poor weak creature, not to compare with honest Tliomas Bullock, by at least nine inches ; and so notoriously timid, selfish, and stingy, that there was a kind of shame in receiving his addresses openly ; and what encouragement Mrs. Catherine gave him could only be in secret. But no mortal is wise at all times : and the fact was, that Hayes, who cared for himself intensely, had set his heart upon winning Catherine ; and loved her with a desperate greedy eagerness and desire of possession, which makes passions for women often so fierce and unreasonable among very cold and selfish men. His parents (whose frugality he had inherited) had tried in vain to wean him from this passion, and had made many fruitless attempts to engage him with women who possessed money and desired husbands ; but Hayes was, for a wonder, quite proof against their attractions ; and, though quite ready to acknowledge the absurdity of his love for a penniless alehouse servant-girl, nevertheless persisted in it doggedly. "I know I'm a fool," said he; "and what's more, the 532 OATHEEINE: A STOKY girl does not care for me ; but marry her I must, or I think I shall just die : and marry her I will." For very much to the credit of Miss Catherine's modesty, she had declared that marriage was with her a sine qud non, and had dismissed, with the loudest scorn and indignation, all propositions of a less proper nature. Poor Thomas Bullock was another of her admirers, and had offered to marry her ; but three shillings a week and a puddn was not to the girl's taste, and Thomas had been scornfully rejected. Hayes had also made her a direct proposal. Catherine did not say no : she was too prudent : but she was young and could wait ; she did not care for Mr. Hayes yet enough to marry him — (it did not seem, indeed, in the young woman's nature to care for anybody) — and she gave her adorer flatteringly to understand that, if nobody better appeared in the course of a few years, she might be induced to become Mrs. Hayes. It was a dismal prospect for the poor fellow to live upon the hope of being one day Mrs. Catherine's pis-aller. In the meantime she considered herself free as the wind, and permitted herself all the innocent gaieties which that " chartered libertine," a coquette, can take. She flirted with all the bachelors, widowers, and married men, in a manner which did extraordinary credit to her years : and let not the reader fancy such pastimes unnatural at her early age. The ladies — Heaven bless them ! — are, as a general rule, coquettes from babyhood upwards. Little she's of three years old play little airs and graces upon small heroes of five ; simpering misses of nine make attacks upon young gentlemen of twelve ; and at sixteen, a well-grown girl, under encouraging circumstances, — say, she is pretty, in a family of ugly elder sisters, or an only child and heiress, or a humble wench at a country inn, like our fair Catherine — is at the very pink and prime of her coquetry : they wiU jilt you at that age with an ease and arch infantine simjjlicity that never can be surpassed in maturer years. Miss Catherine, then, was a franche coquette, and Mr. John Hayes was miserable. His life was passed in a storm of mean passions and bitter jealousies, and desperate attacks upon the indifference-rock of Mrs. Catherine's heart, which not all his tempest of love could beat down. cruel, cruel pangs of love unrequited ! Mean rogues feel them as well as great heroes. Lives there the man in Europe who has not felt them many times % — who has not knelt, and fawned, and supplicated, and wept, and cursed, and raved, all in vain ; and passed long wakeful nights with ghosts of dead hopes for company; shadows of buried remembrances that glide out of their graves of nights, and whisper, " We are dead now, INSTANCES OF UNREQUITED LOVE 533 but we were once ; and we made you happy, and we come now to mock you : — despair, lover, despair, and die " ? — cruel pangs ] — dismal ni^lits ! — Now a sly demon creeps under your niglitcap, and di-ops into your ear those soft hope-breathing sweet words, uttered on the well-remembered evening : there, in the drawer of your dressing-table (along with the razors, and Macassar oil), lies the dead flower that Lady Amelia Wilhelmina wore in her bosom on the night of a certain ball — the corpse of a glorious hope that seemed once as if it would live for ever, so strong was it, so full of joy and sunshine : there, in your writing-desk, among a crowd of unpaid bills, is the dirty scrap of paper, thimble-sealed, which came in company with a pair of mufifetees of her knitting (she was a butcher's daughter, and did all she could, poor thing !), begging " you would ware them at coUidge, and think of her who " — married a public-house three weeks afterwards, and cares for you no more now than she does for the pot-boy. But why multiply instances, or seek to depict the agony of poor mean-spirited John Hayes ? No mistake can be greater than that of fancying such great emotions of love are only felt by virtuous or exalted men : depend upon it. Love, like Death, plays havoc among the pauperum tabernas, and sports with rich and poor, wicked and virtuous alike. I have often fancied, for instance, on seeing the haggard pale young old-clothes- man, who wakes the echoes of our street with his nasal cry of " Clo' ! " — I have often, I said, fancied that, besides the load of exuvial coats and breeches under which he staggers, there is another weight on him — an atiHor cura at his tail — and while his unshorn lips and nose together are performing that mocking, boisterous, Jack-indifferent cry of " Clo', clo' ! " who knows what woeful utter- ances are crying from the heart within ? There he is, chaffering with the footman at No. 7 about an old dressing-gown : you think his whole soul is bent only on the contest about the garment. Psha ! there is, perhaps, some faithless girl in Holywell Street who fills up his heart ; and that desultory Jew-boy is a peripatetic hell ! Take another instance : — take the man in the beef-shop in Saint Martin's Court. There he is, to all appearances quite calm : before the same round of beef — from morning till sundown — for hundreds of years very likely. Perhaps when the shutters are closed, and all the world tired and silent, there is he silent, but untired — cutting, cutting, cutting. You enter, you get your meat to your liking, you depart ; and, quite unmoved, on, on he goes, reaping cease- lessly the Great Harvest of Beef. You would fancy that if Passion ever failed to conquer, it had in vain assailed the calm bosom of THAT MAN. I doubt it, and would give much to know his history. Who knows what furious .^Etna-flames are raging underneath the 534 CATHERINE: A STOEY surface of that calm flesh-mountain — who can tell me that that calmness itself is not despaie t The reader, if he does not now understand why it was that Mr. Hayes agreed to drink the Corporal's proffered beer, had better just read the foregoing remarks over again, and if he does not under- stand then, why, small praise to his brains. Hayes could not bear that Mr. Bullock should have a chance of seeing, and perhaps making love to Mrs. Catherine in his absence; and though the young woman never diminished her coquetries, but, on the contrary, rather increased them in his presence, it was still a kind of dismal satisfaction to be miserable in her company. On this occasion, the disconsolate lover could be wretched to his heart's content; for Catherine had not a word or a look for him, but bestowed all her smiles upon the handsome stranger who owned the black horse. As for poor Tummas BuUock, his passion was never violent ; and he was content in the present instance to sigh and drink beer. He sighed and drank, sighed and drank, and drank again, until he had swallowed so much of the Corporal's liquor, as to be induced to accept a guinea from his purse also ; and found himself, on retiuning to reason and sobriety, a soldier of Queen Anne's. But oh ! fancy the agonies of Mr. Hayes when, seated with the Corporal's friends at one end of the kitchen, he saw the Captain at the place of honour, and the smiles which the fair maid bestowed upon him ; when, as she lightly whisked past him with the Captain's supper, she, pointing to the locket that once reposed on the breast of the Dutch lady at the Brill, looked archly on Hayes and said, " See, John, what his Lordship has given me ; " and when John's face became green and purple with rage and jealousy, Mrs. Catherine laughed ten times louder, and cried, " Coming, my Lord," in a voice of shrill triumph, that bored through the soul of Mr. John Hayes and left him gasping for breath. On Catherine's other lover, Mr. Thomas, this coquetry had no effect : he, and two comrades of his, had by this time quite fallen under the spell of the Corporal ; and hope, glory, strong beer. Prince Eugene, pair of colours, more strong beer, her blessed Majesty, plenty more strong beer, and such subjects, martial and bacchic, whirled through their dizzy brains at a railroad pace. And now, if there had been a couple of experienced reporters present a,t the " Bugle Inn," they might have taken down a con- versation on love and war — the two themes discussed by the two parties occupying the kitchen — which, as the parts were sung together, duetwise, formed together some very curious harmonies. TALK OF LOVE AND WAR 635 Thus, while the Captain was whispering the softest nothings, the Corporal was shouting the fiercest combats of the war ; and, like the gentleman at Penelope's table, on it exiguo pinxit proelia tota bore. For example : — Captain. What do you say to a silver trimming, pretty Catherine? Don't you think a scarlet riding-cloak, handsomely laced, would become you wonderfully well?— and a grey hat with a blue feather — and a pretty nag to ride on — and all the soldiers to present arms as you pass, and say, " There goes the Captain's lady " 1 What do you think of a side-box at Lincoln's Inn play- house, or of standing up to a minuet with my Lord Marquis at 1 Corporal. The ball, sir, ran right up his elbow, and was found the next day by Surgeon Splinter of ours, — where do you think, sir? — upon my honour as a gentleman, it came out of the nape of his • Captain. Necklace — and a sweet pair of diamond earrings, mayhap — and a little shower of patches, which ornament a lady's face wondrously — and a leetle rouge — though, egad ! such peach- cheeks as yours don't want it ; — fie ! Mrs. Catherine, I should think the birds must come and peck at them as if they were fruit Corporal. Over the wall ; and three-and-twenty of our fellows jumped after me. By the Pope of Rome, friend Tummas, that was a day ! — Had you seen how the Mounseers looked when four-and- twenty rampaging he-devils, sword and pistol, cut and thrust, pell- mell came tumbling into the redoubt ! Why, sir, we left in three minutes as many artillerymen's heads as there were cannon-balls. It was, "Ah sacral" "D you, take that!" "0 mon Dieu ! " " Rim him through ! " " Ventrebleu ! " and it was ventre- bleu with him, I warrant you ; for bleu, in the French language, means " through " ; and ventre — why, you see, ventre means Captain. Waists, which are worn now excessive longj — and for the hoops, if you could but see them — stap my vitals, my dear, but there was a lady at Warwick's Assembly (she came in one of my Lord's coaches) who had a hoop as big as a tent : you might have dined under it comfortably ; — ha ! ha ! 'pon my faith, now Corporal. And there we found the Duke of Marlborough seated along with Marshal Tallard, who was endeavouring to drown his sorrow over a cup of Johannisberger wine ; and a good drink too, my lads, only not to compare to Warwick beer. " Who was the man who has done this 1 " said our noble General. I stepped up. " How many heads was it," r.ays he, " that you cut off? " " Nine- teen," says I, "besides wounding several." When he heard it 536 CATHERINE: A STORY (Mr. Haves, you don't drink) I'm blest if he didn't burst into tears ! "" Noble, noble fellow," says he. " Marshal, you must excuse me if I am pleased to hear of the destruction of your coimtry- men. Noble, noble fellow !— here's a hundred guineas for you." Which sum he placed in my hand. "Nay," says the Marshal, "the man has done his duty : " and, pulling out a magnificent gold diamond-hilted snuffbox, he gave me Mr. Bullock What, a goold snuffbox 1 Wauns, but thee wast in luck. Corporal ! ■ Corporal. No, not the snuffbox, but — a pinch of snuff, — ha ! ha ! — run me through 'the body if he didn't. Could you but have seen the smile on Jac^k Churchill's grave face at this piece of generosity ! So, beckoning Colonel Oadogan up to him, he pinched his ear and whispered Captain. " May I have the honour to dance a minuet with your Ladyship?" The whole room was in titters at Jack's blunder; for, as you know very well, poor Lady Susan has a wooden leg. Ha ! ha ! fancy a minuet and a wooden leg, hey, my dear ? Mrs. Catherine. Giggle— giggle — giggle : he ! he ! he ! Oh, Captain, you rogue, you Second table. Haw ! haw ! haw ! Well, you be a foony mon. Sergeant, zure enoff. This little specimen of the conversation must be sufficient. It wiU show pretty clearly that each of the two military commanders was conducting his operations with perfect success. Three of the detachment of five attacked by the Corporal surrendered to him : Mr. Bullock, namely, who gave in at a very early stage of the evening, and ignominiously laid down his arms under the table, after standing not more than a dozen volleys of beer ; Mr. Black- smith's boy, and a laboiu-er whose name we have not been able to learn. Mr. Butcher himself was on the point of yielding, when he was rescued by the furious charge of a detachment that marched to his relief: his wife namely, who, with two squalling children, rushed into the " Bugle," boxed Butcher's ears, and kept up such a tre- mendous fire of oaths and screams upon the Corporal, that he was obliged to retreat. Fixing then her claws into Mr. Butcher's hair, she proceeded to drag him out of the premises ; and thus Mr. Brock was overcome. His attack upon John Hayes was a still greater failure ; for that young man seemed to be invincible by drink, if not by love : and at the end of the drinking-bout was a great deal more cool than the Corporal himself; to whom he wished a very polite good-evening, as calmly he took his hat to depart. He turned to look at Catherine, to be sure, and then he MKS. SCORE AND THE COUNT 537 was not quite so calm ; but Catherine did not give any reply to his good-night. She was seated at the Captain's table playing at cribbage with him; and though Count Gustaius Maximilian lost every game, he won more than he lost, — sly fellow ! — and Mrs. Catherine was no match for him. It is to be presumed that Hayes gave some information to Mrs. Score, the landlady : for, on leaving the kitchen, he was seen to linger for a moment in the bar ; and very soon after Mrs. Catherine was called away from her attendance on the Count, who, when he asked for a sack and toast, was furnished with those articles by the landlady herself: and, during the half-hour in which he was employed in consuming this drink. Monsieur de Galgenstein looked very much disturbed and out of humour, and cast his eyes to the door perpetually ; but no Catherine came. At last, very sulkily, he desired to be shown to bed, and walked as well as he could (for, to say truth, the noble Count was by this time somewhat unsteady on his legs) to his chamber. It was Mrs. Score who showed him to it, and closed the curtains, and pointed trium- phantly to the whiteness of the sheets. " It's a very comfortable room," said she, " though not the best in the house ; which belong of right to your Lordship's worship ; but our best room has two beds, and Mr. Corporal is in that, locked and double-locked, with his three tipsy recruits. But your honour will find this here bed comfortable and well-aired ; I've slept in it myself this eighteen years." "What, my good woman, you are going to sit up, eh? It's cruel hard on you, madam." " Sit up, my Lord 1 bless you, no ! I shall have half of our Cat's bed ; as I always do when there's company." And with this Mrs. Score curtseyed and retired. Very early the next morning the active landlady and her bustling attendant had prepared the ale and bacon for the Corporal and his three converts, and had set a nice white cloth for the Captain's breakfast. The young blacksmith did not eat with much satisfaction ; but Mr. Bullock and his friend betrayed no sign of discontent, except such as may be consequent upon an evening's carouse. They walked very contentedly to be registered before Doctor Dobbs, who was also justice of the peace, and went in search of their slender bundles, and took leave of their few ac- quaintances without much regret : for the gentlemen had been bred in the workhouse, and had not, therefore, a large circle of friends. It wanted only an hour of noon, and the noble Count had not 538 CATHERINE: A STORY descended. The men were waiting for him, and spent much of the Queen's money (earned by the sale of their bodies overnight) while thus expecting him. Perhaps Mrs. Catherine expected him too, for she had offered many times to run up — with my Lord's boots — with the hot water — to show Mr. Brock the way ; who sometimes condescended to oflBciate as barber. But on all these occasions Mrs. Score had prevented her; not scolding, but with much gentleness and smiling. At last, more gentle and smiling than ever, she came downstairs and said, " Catherine darling, his honour the Count is mighty hungry this morning, and vows he could pick the wing of a fowl. Run down, child, to Farmer Brigg's and get one : pluck it before you bring it, you know, and we will make his Lordship a pretty breakfast." Catherine took up her basket, and away she went by the back-yard, through the stables. There she heard the little horse- boy whistling and hissing after the manner of horse-boys ; and there she learned that Mrs. Score had been inventing an ingenious story to have her out of the way. The ostler said he was just going to lead the two horses round to the door. The Corporal had been, and they were about to start on the instant for Stratford. The fact was that Count Gustavus Adolphus, far from wishing to pick the wing of a fowl, had risen with a horror and loathing for everything in the shape of food, and for any liquor stronger than small beer. Of this he had drunk a cup, and said he should ride immediately to Stratford ; and when, on ordering his horses, he had asked politely of the landlady "why the d she always came up, and why she did not send the girl," Mrs. Score informed the Count that her Catherine was gone out for a walk along with the young man to whom she was to be mamed, and would not be visible that day. On hearing this the Captain ordered his horses that moment, and abused the -vrine, the bed, the house, the landlady, and every- thing connected with the " Bugle Inn." Out the horses came : the little boys of the village gathered round ; the recruits, with bunches of ribands in their beavers, appeared presently ; Corporal Brock came swaggering out, and, slapping the pleased blacksmith on the back, bade him mount his horse ; while the boys hurrah'd. Then the Captain came out, gloomy and majestic ; to him Mr. Brock made a military salute, which clumsily, and with much grinning, the recruits imitated. " I shall walk on with these brave fellows, your honour, and meet you at Stratford," said the Corporal. " Good," said the Captain, as he mounted. The landlady curtseyed ; the children hurrah'd more ; the little horse-boy, who held the bridle with one hand and FAILUEE OF MRS. SCOEE'S STRATAGEM 539 the stirrup with the oth'er, and expected a crown-piece from such a noble gentleman, got only a kick and a curse, as Count von Galgenstein shouted, " D you all, get out of the way ! " and galloped off; and John Hayes, who had been sneaking about the inn all the morning, felt a weight off his heart when he saw the Captain ride off alone. foolish Mrs. Score ! dolt of a John Hayes ! If the landlady had allowed the Captain and the maid to have their way, and meet but for a minute before recruits, sergeant, and all, it is probable that no harm would have been done, and that this history would never have been written. When Count von Galgenstein had ridden half a mile on the Stratford road, looking as black and dismal as Napoleon galloping from the romantic village of Waterloo, he espied, a few score yards onwards, at the turn of the road, a certain object which caused him to check his horse suddenly, brought a tingling red into his cheeks, and made his heart to go thump — thump ! against his side. A young lass was sauntering slowly along the footpath, with a basket swinging from one hand, and a bunch of hedge-flowers in the other. She stopped once or twice to add a fresh one to her nosegay, and might have seen him, the Captain thought ; but no, she never looked directly towards him, and still walked on. Sweet innocence ! she was singing as if none were near ; her voice went soaring up to the clear sky, and the Captain put his horse on the grass, that the sound of the hoofs might not disturb the music. '' When the kine had given a pailful, And the sheep came bleating home, Poll, who knew it would be healthful, Went a-walking out with Tom. Hand in hand, sir, on the land, sir, Aa they walked to and fro, Tom made jolly love to Polly, But was answered no, no, no." The Captain had put his horse on the grass, that the sound of his hoofs might not disturb the music ; and now he pushed its head on to the bank, where straightway " George of Denmark " began chewing of such a salad as grew there. And now the Captain slid off stealthily ; and smiling comioally, and hitching up his great jack- boots, and moving forward with a jerking tiptoe step, he, just as she was trilling the last o-o-o of the last no in the above poem of Tom D'Urfey, came up to her, and touching her lightly on the waist, said — 540 CATHERINE: A STORY " My dear, your very humble servant.* Mrs. Catherine (you know you have found her out long ago !) gave a scream and a start, and would have turned pale if she could. As it was, she only shook all over, and said — " Oh, sir, how you did frighten me ! " " Frighten you, my rosebud ! why, run me through, I'd die rather than frighten you. Gad, child, tell me now, am I so very ft-ightfuH" " Oh no, your honour, I didn't mean that ; only I wasn't think- ing to meet you here, or that you would ride so early at all : for, if you please, sir, I was going to fetch a chicken for your Lordship's breakfast, as my mistress said you would like one ; and I thought, instead of going to Farmer Brigg's, down Birmingham way, as she told me, I'd go to Farmer's Bird's, where the chickens is better, sir, — my Lord, I mean." " Said I'd like a chicken for breakfast, the old cat ! why, I told her I would not eat a morsel to save me — I was so dru 1 mean I ate such a good supper last night — and I bade her to send me a pot of small beer, and to tell you to bring it ; and the wretch said you were gone out with your sweetheart " " What ! John Hayes, the creature ? Oh, what a naughty story- telling woman ! " " You had walked out with your sweetheart, and I was not to see you any more ; and I was mad with rage, and ready to kill myself; I was, my dear." " Oh, sir ! pray, pray don't." " For your sake, my sweet angel 1 " " Yes, for my sake, if such a poor girl as me can persuade noble gentlemen." " Well, then, for your sake, I won't ; no, I'll live ; but why live ? Hell and fury, if I do live I'm miserable without you ; I am, — you know I am, — you adorable, beautiful, cruel, wicked Catherine!" Catherine's reply to this was " La, bless me ! I do be- lieve your horse is running away." And so he was ! for having finished his meal in the hedge, he first looked towards his master and paused, as it were, irresolutely ; then, by a sudden impulse, flinging up his tail and his hind-legs, he scampered down the road. Mrs. Hall ran lightly after the horse, and the Captain after Mrs. Hall ; and the horse ran quicker and quicker every moment, and might have led them a long chase, — when lo ! debouching from a twist in the road, came the detachment of cavalry and infantry under Mr. Brock. The moment he was out of sight of the village, that THE CAPtAl]^ AND MRS. CAt 54.1 gentleman had desired the blacksmith to dismount, and had himself jumped into the saddle, maintaining the subordination of his army by drawing a pistol and swearing that he would blow out the brains of any person who attempted to run. When the Captain's horse came near the detachment he paused, and suffered himself to be caught by Tummas Bullock, who held him until the owner and Mrs. Catherine came up. Mr. Bullock looked comically grave when he saw the pair ; but the Corporal graciously saluted Mrs. Catherine, and said it was a fine day for walking. " La, sir, and so it is," said she, panting in a very pretty and distressing way, " but not for running. I do protest — ha ! — and vow that I really can scarcely stand. I'm so tired of running after that naughty, naughty horse ! " " How do, Cattern 1 " said Thomas. " Zee, I be going a-zouldier- ing because thee wouldn't have me." And here Mr. Bullock grinned. Mrs. Catherine made no sort of reply, but protested once more she should die of running. If the truth were told, she was somewhat vexed at the arrival of the Corporal's detachment, and had had very serious thoughts of finding herself quite tired just as he came in sight. A sudden thought brought a smile of bright satisfaction in the Captain's eyes. He mounted the horse which Tummas still held. " Tired, Mrs. Catherine," said he, " and for my sake 1 By heavens ! you shan't walk a step farther. No, you shall ride back with a guard of honour ! Back to the village, gentlemen ! — rightabout face ! Show those fellows. Corporal, how to rightabout face. Now, my dear, mount behind me on Snowball ; he's easy as a sedan. Put your dear little foot on the toe of my boot. There now, — up ! — jump ! hurrah ! " " That's not the way, Captain," shouted out Thomas, still holding on to the rein as the horse began to move. " Thee woan't goo with him, will thee. Catty 1 " But Mrs. Catherine, though she turned away her head, never let go her hold round the Captain's waist ; and he, swearing a dreadful oath at Thomas, struck him across the face and hands with his riding- whip. The poor fellow, who at the first cut still held on to the rein, dropped it at the second, and as the pair galloped off, sat down on the roadside and fairly began to weep. "March, you dog!" shouted out the Corporal a minute after. And so he did : and when next he saw Mrs. Catherine she was the Captain's lady sure enough, and wore a grey hat with a blue feather, and red riding-coat trimmed with silver-lace. But Thomas was then on a barebacked horse, which Corporal Brook was flanking 542 CATHERINE: A STORY round a ring, and he was so occupied looking between his horses ears that he had no time to cry then, and at length got the better of his attachment. This being a good opportunity for closing Chapter I., we ought, perhaps, to make some apologies to the public for introducing them to characters that are so utterly worthless ; as we confess all our heroes, with the exception of Mr. Bullock, to be. In this we have consulted nature and history, rather than the prevailing taste and the general manner of authors. The amusing novel of "Ernest Maltravers," for instance, opens with a seduction ; but then it is performed by people of the strictest virtue on both sides : and there is so much religion and philosophy in the heart of the seducer, so much tender innocence in the soul of the seduced, that — bless the little dears ! — their very peccadilloes make one interested in them ; and their naughtiness becomes quite sacred, so deliciously is it described. Now, if we are to be interested by rascally actions, let us have them with plain faces, and let them be performed, not by virtuous philosophers, but by rascals. Another clever class of novelists adopt the contrary system, and create interest by making their rascals perform virtuous actions. Against these popular plans we here solemnly appeal. We say, let your rogues in novels act like rogues, and your honest men like honest men ; don't let us have any juggling and thimblerigging with virtue and vice, so that, at the end of three volumes, the bewildered reader shall not know which is which ; don't let us find ourselves kindling at the generous qualities of thieves, and sympathising with the rascalities of noble hearts. For our own part, we know what the public likes, and have chosen rogues for our characters, and have taken a story from the " Newgate Calendar," which we hope to foUow out to edification. Among the rogues, at least, we will have nothing that shall be mistaken for virtues. And if the British public (after calling for three or four editions) shall give up, not only our rascals, but the rascals of all other authors, we shall be content : — we shall apply to Government for a pension, and think that our duty is done. CHAPTER II IN WHICH ARE DEPICTED THE PLEASURES OF A SENTIMENTAL ATTACHMENT IT will not be necessary, for the purpose of this history, to foUow out very closely all the adventures which occurred to Mrs. Cathe- rine from the period when she quitted the " Bugle " and became the Captain's lady ; for although it would be just as easy to show as not, that the young woman, by following the man of her heart, had only yielded to an innocent impulse, and by remaining with him for a certain period, -had proved the depth and strength of her affection for him, — although we might make very tender and eloquent apologies for the error of both parties, the reader might possibly be disgusted at such descriptions and such arguments : which, besides, are abeadydone to his hand in the novel of "Ernest Maltravers " before mentioned. ^ From the gentleman's manner towards Mrs. Catherine, and from his brilliant and immediate success, the reader will doubtless have concluded, in the first place, that Gustavus Adolphus had not a very violent affection for Mrs. Cat ; in the second place, that he was a professional lady-killer, and therefore likely at some period to resume his profession ; thirdly, and to conclude, that a connection so begun, must, in the nature of things, be likely to end speedily. And so, to do the Count justice, it would, if he had been allowed to follow his own inclination entirely ; for (as many young gentle- men will, and yet no praise to them) in about a week he began to be indifferent, in a month to be weary, in two months to be angry, in three to proceed to blows and curses ; and, in short, to repeat most bitterly the hour when he had ever been induced to present Mrs. Catherine the toe of his boot, for the purpose of lifting her on to his horse. " Egad ! " said he to the Corporal one day, when confiding his griefs to Mr. Brock, " I wish my toe had been cut off before ever it served as a ladder to this little vixen." " Or perhaps your honour would wish to kick her downstairs with it ? " delicately suggested Mr. Brock. " Kick her ! why, the wench would hold so fast by the banisters 544 CATHERINE: A STORY that I could not kick her down, Mr. Brock. To tell you a bit of a secret, I have tried as much — not to kick her — no, no, not kick her, certainly ; that's ungentlemanly — but to induce her to go back to that cursed pot-house where we fell in with her. I have given her many hints " " Oh yes, I saw your honour give her one yesterday — with a mug of beer. By the laws, as the ale run all down her face, and she clutched a knife to run at you, I don't think I ever saw such a she-devil ! That woman will do for your honour some day, if you provoke her." " Do for me ? No, hang it, Mr. Brock, never ! She loves every hair of my head, sir : she worships me, Corporal. Egad, yes ! she worships me ; and would much sooner apply a knife to her own weasand than scratch my little finger ! " " I think she does," said Mr. Brock. " I'm sure of it," said the Captain. " Women, look you, are like dogs, they like to be ill-treated : they like it, sir ; I know they do. I never had anything to do with a woman in my life but I ill- treated her, and she liked me the better." " Mrs. Hall ought to be very fond of you then, sure enough ! " said Mr. Corporal. "Very fond; — ha, ha! Corporal, you wag you — and so she is very fond. Yesterday, after the knife-and-beer scene — no wonder I threw the liquor in her face : it was so dev'lish flat that no gentle- man could drink it : and I told her never to draw it till dinner- time " " Oh, it was enough to put an angel in a fury ! " said Brock. ■' Well, yesterday, after the knife business, when you had got the carver out of her hand, ofi' she flings to her bedroom, will not eat a bit of dinner, forsooth, and remains locked up for a couple of hours. At two o'clock afternoon (I was over a tankard), out comes the little she-devil, her face pale, her eyes bleared, and the tip of her nose as red as fire with sniffling and weeping. Making for my hand, 'Max,' says she, 'will you forgive meV ' What ! ' says I. ' Forgive a murderess 1 ' says I. ' No, curse me, never ! ' ' Your cruelty will kill me,' sobbed she. ' Cruelty be hanged ! ' says I ; ' didn't you draw that beer an hour before dinner 1 ' She could say nothing to this, you know, and I swore that every time she did so, I would fling it into her face again. Whereupon back she flounced to her chamber, where she wept and stormed until night-time." " When you forgave her 1 " " I did forgive her, that's positive. You see I had supped at the ' Rose ' along with Tom Trippet and half-a-dozen pretty fellows ; DISCOURSE ON LOVE 545 and I had eased a great fat-headed Warwickshire land-junker — what d'ye call him t — squire, of forty pieces ; and I'm dev'lish good-humoured when I've won, and so Cat and I made it up : but I've taught her never to bring me stale beer again — ha, ha ! " This conversation wiU explain, a great deal better than any description of ours, however eloquent, the state of things as between Count Maximilian and Mrs. Catherine, and the feelings which they entertained for each other. The woman loved him, that was the fact. And, as we have shown in the previous chapter how John Hayes, a mean-spirited fellow as ever breathed, in respect of all other passions a pigmy, was in the passion of love a giant, and followed Mrs. Catherine with a furious longing which might seem at the first to be foreign to his nature ; in the like manner, and playing at cross-purposes, Mrs. Hall had become smitten of the Captain ; and, as he said truly, only liked him the better for the brutality which she received at his hands. For it is my opinion, madam, that love is a bodily infirmity, from which humankind can no more escape than from small-pox ; and which attacks every one of us, from the first duke in the Peerage down to Jack Ketch inclusive : which has no respect for rank, virtue, or roguery in man, but sets each in his turn in a fever ; which breaks out the deuce knows how or why, and, raging its appointed time, fills each individual of the one sex with a blind fury and longing for some one of the other (who may be pure, gentle, blue-eyed, beautiful, and good ; or vile, shrewish, squinting, hunchbacked, and hideous, according to circum- stances and luck) ; which dies away, perhaps, in the natural course, if left to have its way, but which contradiction causes to rage more furiously than ever. Is not history, from the Trojan war upwards and downwards, fuU of instances of such strange inexplicable passions ? Was not Helen, by the most moderate calculation, ninety years of age when she went ofi" with His Eoyal Highness Prince Paris of Troy 1 Was not Madame La Vallifere ill-made, blear-eyed, tallow- complexioned, scraggy, and with hair like tow 1 Was not Wilkes the ugliest, charmingist, most successful man in the world 1 Such instances might be carried out so as to fill a volume ; but cui bono ? Love is fate, and not will; its origin not to be explained, its progress irresistible : and the best proof of this may be had at Bow Street any day, where if you ask any officer of the establish- ment how they take most thieves, he will tell you at the houses of the women. They must see the dear creatures though they hang for it; they will love, though they have their necks in the halter. And with regard to the other position, that ill-usage on the part of the man does not destroy the affection of the woman, have we not numberless police-reports, showing how, when a by- 4 2 m 546 CATHERINE: A STORY stander would beat a husband for beating his wife, man and wife fall together on the interloper and punish him for his meddling ? These points, then, being settled to the satisfaction of all parties, the reader will not be disposed to question the assertion that Mrs. Hall had a real affection for the gallant Count, and grew, as Mr. Brock was pleased to say, like a beefsteak, more tender as she was thumped. Poor thing, poor thing ! his flashy airs and smart looks had overcome her in a single hour ; and no more is wanted to plunge into love over head and ears ; no more is wanted to make a first love with — and a woman's first love lasts for ever (a man's twenty-fourth or twenty-fifth is perhaps the best) ; you can't kill it, do what you will ; it takes root, and lives and even grows, never mind what the soil may be in which it is planted, or the bitter weather it must bear — often as one has seen a wall- flower grow — out of a stone. In the fia-st weeks of their union, the Count had at least been liberal to her : she had a horse and fine clothes, and received abroad some of those flattering attentions which she held at such high price. He had, however, some ill-luck at play, or had been forced to pay some bills, or had some other satisfactory reason for being poor, and his establishment was very speedily diminished. He argued that, as Mrs. Catherine had been accustomed to wait on others all her life, she might now wait upon herself and him ; and when the incident of the beer arose, she had been for some time employed as the Count's housekeeper, with unlimited super- intendence over his comfort, his collar, his linen, and such matters as bachelors are delighted to make over to active female hands. To do the poor wretch justice, she actually kept the man's manage in the best order ; nor was there any point of extravagance with which she could be charged, except a little extravagance of dress displayed on the very few occasions when he condescended to walk abroad with her, and extravagance of language and passion in the frequent quarrels they had together. Perhaps in such a connection as subsisted between this precious couple, these faults are inevitable on the part of the woman. She must be silly and vain, and will pretty surely therefore be fond of dress ; and she must, disguise it as she will, be perpetually miserable and brooding over her fall, which wiU cause her to be violent and quarrelsome. Such, at least, was Mrs. Hall; and very early did the poor vain misguided wretch begin to reap what she had sown. For a man, remorse under these circumstances is perhaps un- common. No stigma affixes on him for betraying a woman; no bitter pangs of mortified vanity ; no insulting looks of superiority from his neighbour, and no sentence of contemptuous banishment is A TUEN OP FORTUNE 54,7 read against him ; these all fall on the tempted, and not on the tempter, who is permitted to go free. The chief thing that a man learns after having successfuUj' practised on a woman is to despise the poor wretch whom he has won. The game, in fact, and the glory, such as it is, is all his, and the punishment alone falls upon her. Consider this, ladies, when charming young gentlemen come to woo you with soft speeches. You have nothing to win, except wretchedness, and scorn, and desertion. Consider this, and be thankful to your Solomons for telling it. It came to pass, then, that the Count had come to have a perfect contempt and indifference for Mrs. Hall ; — how should he not for a young person who had given herself up to him so easily ? — and would have been quite glad of any opportunity of parting with her. But there was a certain lingering shame about the man, which prevented him from saying at once and abruptly, " Go ! " and the poor thing did not choose to take such hints as fell out in the course of their conversation and quarrels. And so they kept on together, he treating her with simple insult, and she hanging on desperately, by whatever feeble twig she could find, to the rock beyond which all was naught, or death, to her. Well, after the night with Tom Trippet and the pretty fellows at the " Eose," to which we have heard the Count allude in the conversation just recorded. Fortune smiled on him a good deal ; for the Warwickshire squire, who had lost forty pieces on that occasion, insisted on having his revenge the night after ; when, strange to say, a hundred and fifty more found their way into the pouch of his Excellency the Count. Such a sum as this quite set the young nobleman afloat again, and brought back a pleasing equanimity to his mind, which had been a good deal disturbed in the former difficult circumstances ; and in this, for a little and to a certain extent, poor Cat had the happiness to share. He did not alter the style of his establishment, which consisted, as before, of herself and a small person who acted as scourer, kitchen-wench, and scullion; Mrs. Catherine always putting her hand to the principal pieces of the dinner; but he treated his mistress with tolerable good-humour; or, to speak more con-ectly, with such bearable brutality as might be expected from a man like him to a woman in her condition. Besides, a certain event was about to take place, which not unusually occurs in circumstances of this nature, and Mrs. Catherine was expecting soon to lie in. The Captain, distrusting naturally the strength of his own paternal feelings, had kindly endeavoured to provide a parent for the coming infant ; and to this end had opened a negotiation with our friend Mr. Thomas Bullock, declaring that Mrs. Cat should 548 CATHERINE: A STOEY have a fortune of twenty guineas, and reminding Tummas of his ancient flame for her : but Mr. Tummas, when this proposition was made to him, dedined it, with many oaths, and vowed that he was perfectly satisfied with his present bachelor condition. In this dilemma, Mr. Brock stepped forward, who declared himself very ready to accept Mrs. Catherine and her fortune : and might possibly have become the possessor of both, had not Mrs. Cat, the moment she heard of the proposed arrangement, with fire in her eyes, and rage — oh, how bitter ! — in her heart, prevented the suc- cess of the measure by proceeding incontinently to the first justice of the peace, and there swearing before his worship who was the father of the coming child. This proceeding, which she had expected would cause not a little indignation on the part of her lord and master, was received by him, strangely enough, with considerable good-humour : he swore that the wencli had served him a good trick, and was rather amused at the anger, the outbreak of fierce rage and contumely, and the wretched, wretched tears of heart-sick desperation, which followed Jier announcement of this step to him. For Mr. Brock, she repelled his offer with scorn and loathing, and treated the notion of a union with Mr. Bullock with yet fiercer contempt. Marry him indeed ! a workhouse pauper carrying a brown-bess ! She would have died sooner, she said, or robbed on the highway. And so, to do her justice, she woulil : for the little minx was one of the vainest creatures in existence, and vanity (as I presume everybody knows) becomes the principle in certain women's hearts — their moral spectacles, their conscience, their meat and drink, their only rule of right and wrong. As for Mr. Tummas, he, as we have seen, was quite as un- friendly to the proposition as she could be ; and the Corporal, with a good deal of comical gravity, vowed that, as he could not be satisfied in his dearest wishes, he would take to drinking for a consolation : which he straightway did. "Come, Tummas," said he to Mr. Bullock, "since we can't have the girl of our hearts, why, hang it, Tummas, let's drink her health ! " To which Bullock had no objection. And so strongly did the disappointment weigh upon honest Corporal Brock, that even when, after unheard-of quantities of beer, he could scarcely utter a word, he was seen absolutely to weep, and, in accents almost unintelhgible, to curse his confounded ill-luck at being de- prived, not of a wife, but of a child : he wanted one so, he said, to comfort him in his old age. The time of Mrs. Catherine's cowche drew near, arrived, and was gone through safely. She presented to the world a chopping OAT FINDS A CONFIDANT 549 boy, who might use, if he liked, the Galgenstein arms with a bar- sinister ; and in her new cares and duties had not so many oppor- tunities as usual of quarrelling with the Count : who, perhaps, respected her situation, or, at least, was so properly aware of the necessity of quiet to her, that he absented himself from home morning, noon, and night. The Captain had, it must be confessed, turned these continued absences to a considerable worldly profit, for he played incessantly ; and, since his fii-st victory over the Warwickshire Squire, Fortune had been so favourable to him, that he had at various intervals amassed a sum of nearly a thousand pounds, which he used to bring home as he won ; and which he deposited in a strong iron chest, cunningly screwed down by himself under his own bed. This Mrs. Catherine regularly made, and the treasure underneath it could be no secret to her. However, the noble Count kept the key, and bound her by many solemn paths (that he discharged at her himself) not to reveal to any other person the existence of the chest and its contents. But it is not in a woman's nature to keep such secrets ; and the Captain, who left her for days and days, did not reflect that she would seek for confidants elsewhere. For want of a female companion, she was compelled to bestow her sympathies upon Mr. Brock; who, as the Count's corporal, was much in his lodgings, and who did manage to survive the disappointment which he had experienced by Mrs. Catherine's refusal of him. About two months after the infant's birth, the Captain, who was annoyed by its squalling, put it abroad to nurse, and dismissed its attendant. Mrs. Catherine now resumed her household dutieSj and was, as before, at once mistress and servant of the establish- ment. As such, she had the keys of the beer, and was pretty sure of the attentions of the Corporal ; who became, as we have said, in the Count's absence, his lady's chief friend and companion. After the manner of ladies, she very speedily confided to him all her domestic secrets ; the causes of her former discontent ; the Count's ill-treatment of herj the wicked names he called her; the prices that all her gowns had cost her ; how he beat her ; how much money he won and lost at play ; how she had once pawned a coat for him ; how he had four new ones, laced, and paid for ; what was the best way of cleaning and keeping gold-lace, of making cherry-brandy, pickling salmon, &c. &c Her confidences upon all these subjects used to follow each other in rapid succession ; and Mr. Brock be- came, ere long, quite as well acquainted with the Captain's history for the last year as the Count himself : — for he was careless, and forjot things ; women never do. They chronicle all the lover's smaU 550 CATHEEINE: A STORY actions, his words, his headaches, the dresses he has worn, the things he has liked for dinner on certain days ; — all which circumstances commonly are expunged from the male brain immediately after they have occurred, but remain fixed with the female. To Brock, then, and to Brock only (for she knew no other soul), Mrs. Oat breathed, in strictest confidence, the history of the Count's winnings, and his way of disposing of them ; how he kept his money screwed down in an iron chest in their room ; and a very lucky fellow did Brock consider his ofiicer for having such a large sum. He and Cat looked at the chest : it was small, but mighty strong, sure enough, and would defy picklocks and thieves. Well, if any man deserved money, the Captain did (" though he might buy me a few yards of that lace I love so," interrupted Cat), — if any man deserved money, he did, for he spent it like a prince, and his hand was always in his pocket. It must now be stated that Monsievu; de Galgenstein had, during Cat's seclusion, cast his eyes upon a young lady of good fortune, who frequented the Assembly at Birmingham, and who was not a little smitten by his title and person. The " four new coats, laced, and paid for," as Cat said, had been purchased, most probably, by his Excellency for the purpose of dazzling the heiress • and he and the coats had succeeded so far as to win from the young woman an actual profession of love, and a promise of marriage provided pa would consent. This was obtained, — for pa was a tradesman ; and I suppose every one of my readers has remarked how great an eflect a title has on the lower classes. Yes, thank Heaven ! there is about a freeborn Briton a cringing baseness, and lickspittle awe of rank, which does not exist under any tyranny in Europe, and is only to be found here and in America. All these negotiations had been going on quite unknown to Cat ; and, as the Captain had determined, before two months were out, to fling that young woman on the pav^, he was kind to her in the meanwhile : people always are when they are swindling you, or meditating an injury against you. The poor girl had much too high an opinion of her own charms to suspect that the Count could be unfaithful to them, and had no notion of the plot that was formed against her. But Mr. Brock had : for he had seen many times a gilt coach with a pair of fat white horses ambling in the neighbourhood of the town, and the Captain on his black steed caracolling majestically by its side ; and he had remarked a fat, pudgy, pale-haired woman treading heavily down the stairs of the Assembly, leaning on the Captain's arm : all these Mr. Brock had seen, not without reflection. Indeed, the Count one day, in great good-humour, had slapped him on the THE CAT LET OUT OF THE BAG 551 shoulder and told him that he was about speedily to purchase a regiment ; when, by his great gods, Mr. Brock should have a pair of colours. Perhaps this promise occasioned his silence to Mrs. Catherine hitherto ; perhaps he never would have peached at all ; and perhaps, therefore, this history would never have been written, but for a small circumstance which occurred at this period. " What can you want with that drunken old Corporal always about your quarters 1 " said Mr. Trippet to the Count one day, as they sat over their wine, in the midst of a merry company, at the Captain's rooms. "What!" said he. "Old Brock'! The old thief has been more useful to me than many a better man. He is as brave in a row as a lion, as cunning in intrigue as a fox ; he can nose a dun at an inconceivable distance, and scent out a pretty woman be she behind ever so many stone walls. If a gentleman wants a good rascal now, I can recommend him. I am going to reform, you know, and must turn him out of my service." " And pretty Mrs. Cat?" " Oh, curse pretty Mrs. Cat ! she may go too." " And the brat 1 " "Why, you have parishes, and what not, here in England. Egad ! if a gentleman were called upon to keep all his children, there would be no living : no, stap my vitals ! Croesus couldn't stand it." " No, indeed," said Mr. Trippet : " you are right ; and when a gentleman marries, he is bound in honour to give up such low con- nections as are useful when he is a bachelor." "Of course ; and give them up I will, when the sweet Mrs. Drip- ping is mine. As for the girl, you can have her, Tom Trippet, if you take a fancy to her ; and as for the Corporal, he may be handed over to my successor in Cutts's : — for I will have a regiment to myself, that's poz ; and to take with me such a swindhng, pimping, thieving, brandy-faced rascal as this Brock will never do. Egad ! he's a disgrace to the service. As it is, I've often a mind to have the superannuated vagabond drummed out of the corps." Although this r^sum^ of Mr. Brock's character and accomplish- ments was very just, it came perhaps with an ill grace from Count Gustavus Adolphus Maximilian, who had profited by all his quali- ties, and who certainly would never have given this opinion of them had he known that the door of his dining-parlour was open, and that the gallant Corporal, who was in the passage, could hear every syllable that fell from the lips of his commanding oiScer. We shall not say, after the fashion of the story-books, that Mr. Brock listened with a flashing eye and a distended nostril ; that his chest heaved 552 CATHERINE: A STORY tumultuously, and that his hand fell down mechanically to his side, where it played with the brass handle of his sword. Mr. Kean would have gone through most of these bodily exercises had he been acting the part of a villain enraged and disappointed like Corporal Brock ; but that gentleman walked away without any gestures of any kind, and as gently as possible. " He'll turn me out of the regiment, will he 1 " says he, quite piano ; and then added (con molta espressione), " I'll do for him." And it is to be remarked how generally, in cases of this nature, gentlemen stick to their word. CHAPTER III IN IVmCH A NARCOTIC IS ADMINISTERED, AND A GREAT DEAL OF GENTEEL SOCIETY DEPICTED WHEN the Corporal, who had retreated to the street-door immediately on hearing the above conversation, returned to the Captain's lodgings and paid his respects to Mrs. Catherine, he found that lady in high good-humour. The Count had been with her, she said, along with a friend of his, Mr. Trippet; had promised her twelve yards of the lace she coveted so much ; had vowed that the child should have as much more for a cloak ; and had not left her until he had sat with her for an hour, or more, over a bowl of punch, which he made on purpose for her. Mr. Trippet stayed too. " A mighty pleasant man," said she ; " only not very wise, and seemingly a good deal in liquor." " A good deal indeed ! " said the Corporal. " He was so tipsy just now that he could hardly stand. He and his honour were talking to Nan FantaU in the market-place ; and she pulled Trippet's wig off, for wanting to kiss her." " The nasty fellow ! " said Mrs. Cat, "to demean himself with such low people as Nan Fantail, indeed ! Why, upon my conscience now, Corporal, it was but an hour ago that Mr. Trippet swore he never saw such a pair of eyes as mine, and would like to cut the Captain's throat for the love of me. Nan Fantail, indeed 1 " "Nan's an honest girl. Madam Catherine, and was a great favourite of the Captain's before some one else came in his way. No one can say a word against her — not a word." " And pray, Corporal, who ever did ? " said Mrs. Cat, rather offended. " A nasty, ugly slut ! I wonder what the men can see in her?" " She has got a smart way with her, sure enough ; it's what amuses the men, and " "And what? You don't mean to say that my Max is fond of her now ? " said Mrs. Catherine, looking very fierce. " Oh, no ; not at all : not of her ; — that is " " Not of her I " screamed she. " Of whom, then f " " Oh, psha ! nonsense ! Of you, my dear, to be sure ; who else 554 CATHERINE: A STORY should he care for 1 And, besides, what business is it of mine 1 " And herewith the Corporal began whistling, as if he would have no more of the conversation. But Mrs. Cat was not to be satisfied, — not she, — and carried on her cross-questions. "Why, look you," said the Corporal, after parrying many of these, — " Why, look you, I'm an old fool, Catherine, and I 7nust blab. That man has been the best friend I ever liad, and so I was quiet ; but I can't keep it in any longer, — no, hang me if I can ! It's my belief he's acting like a rascal by you : he deceives you, Catherine; he's, a scoundrel, Mrs. Hall, that's the truth on't." Catherine prayed him to tell «ill he knew ; and he resumed. " He wants you off his hands ; he's sick of you, and so brought here that fool Tom Trippet, who has taken a fanny to you. He has not the courage to turn you out of doors like a man ; though indoors he can treat you like a beast. But I'U tell you what he'U do. In a month he will go to Coventry, or pretend to go there, on recruiting business. No such thing, Mrs. Hall ; he's going on •marriage business; and he'll leave you without a farthing, to starve or to rot, for him. It's all arranged, I tell you : in a month, you are to be starved into becoming Tom Trippet's mistress ; and his honour is to marry rich Miss Dripping, the twenty-thousand-pounder from London ; and to purchase a regiment ; — and to get old Brock drummed out of Cutts's too," said the Corporal, under his breath. But he might have spoken out, if he chose ; for the poor young woman had sunk on the ground in a real honest fit. "I thought I should give it her," said Mr. Brook as he procured a glass of water ; and, lifting her on to a sofa, sprinkled the same over her. " Hang it ! how pretty she is." When Mrs. Catherine came to lierself again. Brock's tone with her was kind, and almost feeling. Nor did the poor wench herself indulge in any subsequent sliiverings and hysterics, such as usually follow the fainting-fits of persons of higher degree. She pressed him for further explanations, wliich he gave, and to which she listened with a great deal of calmness ; nor did many tears, sobs, sighs, or exclamations of sorrow or anger escape from her : only when the Corporal was taking his leave, and said to her point-blank, — " Well, Mrs. Catherine, and what do you intend to do 1 " she did not reply a word; but gave a look which made him exclaim, on leaving the room — " By heavens ! the woman means murder ! I would not be the Holofemes to lie by the side of such a Judith as that — not I ! " And he went his way, immersed in deep thought. When the Captain returned at night, she did not speak to him ; and when M^S. OAT PROCURES POISON 555 he swore at her for being sulky, she only said she had a headache, and was dreadMly ill; with which excuse Gustavus Adolphus seemed satisfied, and left her to herself. He saw her the next morning for a moment : he was going a-shooting. Catherine had no friend, as is usual in tragedies and romances, — no mysterious sorceress of her acquaintance to whom she could apply for poison, — so she went simply to the apothecaries, pre- tending at each that she had a dreadful toothache, and procuring from them as much laudanum as she thought would suit her purpose. When she went home again she seemed almost gay. Mr. Brook complimented her upon the alteration in her appearance ; and she was enabled to receive the Captain at his return from shooting in such a manner as made him remark that she had 'got rid of her sulks of the morning, and might sup with them, if she chose to keep her good-humour. The supper was got ready, and the gentlemen had the punch-bowl when the cloth was cleared, — Mrs. Catherine, with her delicate hands, preparing the liquor. It is useless to describe the conversation that took place, or to reckon the number of bowls that were emptied, or to tell how Mr. Trippet, who was one of the guests, and declined to play at cards when some of the others began, chose to remain by Mrs. Catherine's side, and make violent love to her. All this might be told, and the account, however faithful, would not be very pleasing. No, indeed ! And here, though we are only in the third chapter of this history, we feel almost sick of the characters that appear in it, and the adventures which they are called upon to go through. But how can we help ourselves 1 The public will hear of notliing but rogues ; and the only way in which poor authors, who must live, can act honestly by the public and themselves, is to paint such thieves as they are : not dandy, poetical, rose-water thieves ; but real downright scoundrels, leading scoundrelly lives, drunken, pro- fligate, dissolute, low; as scoundrels will be. They don't quote Plato, hke Eugene Aram; or live like gentlemen, and sing the pleasantest ballads in the world, like jolly Dick Turpin ; or prate eternally about rh KaXov, like that precious canting Maltravers, whom we all of us have read about and pitied ; or die whitewashed saints, like poor " Biss Dadsy " in " Oliver Twist." No, my dear madam, you and your daughters have no right to admire and ' sympathise with any such persons, fictitious or real : you ought to be made cordially to detest, scorn, loathe, abhor,- and abominate all people of this kidney. Men of genius like those whose works we have above alluded to, have no business to make these characters 556 CATHERINE: A STORY ^ interesting or agreeable ; to be feeding your morbid fancies, or in- dulging their own, with such monstrous food. For our parts, young ladies, we beg you to bottle up your tears, and not waste a single drop of them on any one of the heroes or heroines in this history : they are all rascals, every soul of them, and behave "as sich." Keep your sympathy for those who deserve it : don't carry it, for preference, to the Old Bailey, and grow maudlin over the company assembled there. Just, then, have the kindness to fancy that the conversation which took place over the bowls of punch which Mrs. Catherine prepared, was such as might be expected to take place where the host was a dissolute, dare-devil, libertine captain of dragoons, the guests for the most part of the same class, and the hostess a young woman originally from a country alehouse, and for the present mistress to the entertainer. of the society. They talked, and they drank, and they grew tipsy ; and very little worth hearing occurred during the course of the whole evening. Mr. Brock officiated, half as the servant, half as the companion of the society. Mr. Thomas Trippet made violent love to Mrs. Catherine, while her lord and master was playing at dice with the other gentlemen : and on this night, strange to say, the Captain's fortune seemed to desert him. The Warwickshire Squire, from whom he had won so much, had an amazing run of good luck. The Captain called perpetually for more drink, and higher stakes, and lost almost every throw. Three hundred, four hundred, six hundred — all his winnings of the previous months were swallowed up in the course of a few hours. The Corporal looked on j and, to do him justice, seemed very grave as, sum by sum, the Squire scored down the Count's losses on the paper before him. Most of the company had taken their hats and staggered off. The Squire and Mr. Trippet were the only two that remained, the latter still lingering by Mrs. Catherine's sofa and table ; and as she, as we have stated, had been employed all the evening in mixing the liquor for the gamesters, he was at the headquarters of love and drink, and had swallowed so much of each as hardly to be able to speak. The dice went rattling on ; the candles were burning dim, with great long wicks. Mr. Trippet could hardly see the Captain, and thought, as far as his muzzy reason would let him, that the Captain could not see him : so he rose from his chair as well as he could, and fell down on Mrs. Catherine's sofa. His eyes were fixed, his face was pale, his jaw hung down ; and he flung out his arms and said, in a maudlin voice, " Oh, you byoo-oo-oo-tiffle Cathrine, I must have a kick-kick-iss." A GAMBLING ORGIE 557 " Beast ! " said Mrs. Catherine, and pushed him away. The drunken wi-etch fell off the sofa, and on to the floor, where he stayed ; and, after snorting out some unintelligible sounds, went to sleep. The dice went rattling on ; the candles were burning dim, with great long wicks. " Seven's the main," cried the Count. " Four. Three to two against the caster." " Ponies," said the Warwickshire Squire. Rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, clatter, nine. Clap, clap, clap, clap, eleven. Clutter, clutter, clutter, clutter : " Seven it is," says the Warwickshire Squire. " That makes eight hundred, Count." " One throw for two hundred," said the Count. " But stop ! Cat, give us some more punch." Mrs. Cat came forward ; she looked a little pale, and her hand trembled somewhat. " Here is the punch. Max," said she. It was steaming hot, in a large glass. " Don't drink it all," said she ; "leave me some." " How dark it is ! " said the Count, eyeing it. " It's the brandy," said Cat. " Well, here goes ! Squire, curse you ! here's your health, and bad luck to you ! " and he gulped off more than half the liquor at a draught. But presently he put down the glass and cried, " What infernal poison is this, Cat ? " " Poison ! " said she. " It's no poison. Give me the glass.'' And she pledged Max, and drank a little of it. " 'Tis good punch, Max, and of my brewing; I don't think you will ever get any better." And she went back to the sofa again, and sat down, and looked at the players. Mr. Brock looked at her white face and fixed eyes with a grim kind of curiosity. The Count sputtered, and cursed the horrid taste of the punch still ; but he presently took the box, and made his threatened throw. As before, the Squire beat him ; and having booked his win- nings, rose from table as well as he might and besought Corporal Brock to lead him downstairs ; which Mr. Brock did. Liquor had evidently stupefied the Count : he sat with his head between his hands, muttering wildly about ill-luck, seven's the main, bad punch, an(jl so on. The street-door banged to ; and the steps of Brock and the Squire were heard, until they could be heard no more. "Max," said she; but he did not answer. "Max," said she again, laying her hand on his shoulder. 558 CATHERINE: A STORY "Curse you," said that gentleman, "keep off, and don't be laying your paws upon me. Go to bed, you jade, or to , for what I care ; and give me first some more punch — a gallon more punch, do you hear 1 " The gentleman, by the curses at the commencement of this little speech, and the request contained at the end of it, showed that his losses vexed him, and that he was anxious to forget them temporarily; " Oh, Max ! " whimpered Mrs. Oat, " you— don't— want— any more punch 1 " " Don't ! Shan't I be drunk in my own house, you cursed whimpering jade, you 1 Get out ! " and with this the Captain pro- ceeded to administer a blow upon Mrs. Catherine's cheek. Contrary to her custom, she did not avenge it, or seek to do so, as on the many former occasions when disputes of this nature had arisen between the Count and her; but now Mrs. Catherine fell on her knees and, clasping her hands and looking pitifully in the Count's face, cried, " Oh, Count, forgive me, forgive me ! " " Forgive you ! What for ? Because I slapped your face 1 Ha, ha ! I'll forgive you again, if you don't mind." " Oh, no, no, no ! " said she, wringing her hands. " It isn't that. Max, dear Max, will you forgive me? It isn't the blow — I don't mind that ; it's " " It's what, you — maudlin fool ? " " It's the punch I " The Count, who was more than half seas over, here assumed an air of much tipsy gravity. " The punch ! No, I never will forgive you that last glass of punch. Of all the foul, beastly drinks I ever tasted, that was the worst. No, I never will forgive you that punch." " Oh, it isn't that, it isn't that ! " said she. " I tell you it is that, you ! That punch, I say that punch was no better than paw — aw — oison." And here the Count's head sank back, and he fell to snore. " It was poison I " said she. " What ! " screamed he, waking up at once, and spurning her away from him. "What, you infernal murderess, have you killed meV " Oh, Max ! — don't kill me. Max ! It was laudanum — indeed it was. You were going to be married, a,nd I was furious, and I went and got " "Hold your tongue, you fiend," roared out the Count; and with more presence of mind than politeness, he flung the remainder of the liquor (and, indeed, the glass with it) at the head of Mrs. THE CAPTAIN'S ANTIDOTE 559 Catherine. But the poisoned chalice missed its mark, and fell right on the nose of Mr. Tom Trippet, who was left asleep and unobserved under the table. Bleeding, staggering, swearing, indeed a ghastly sight, up sprang Mr. Trippet, and drew his rapier. " Come on," says he ; " never say die ! What's the row 1 I'm ready for a dozen of you." And he made many blind and furious passes about the room. " Curse you, we'll die together ! " shouted the Count, as he too pulled out his toledo, and sprang at Mrs. Catherine. " Help ! murder ! thieves ! " shrieked she. " Save me, Mr. Trippet, save me ! " and she placed that gentleman between herself and the Count, and then made for the door of the bedroom, and gained it, and bolted it. " Out of the way, Trippet," roared the Count^-" out of the way, you drunken beast ! I'll murder her, I wOl — I'll have the devil's life." And here he gave a swinging cut at Mr. Trippet's sword : it sent the weapon whirling clean out of his hand, and through a window into the street. "Take my hfe, then," said Mr. Trippet : "I'm drunk, but I'm a man, and, damme ! will never say die." "I don't want yoiu- life, you stupid fool. Hark you, Trippet, wake and be sober, if you can. That woman has heard of my marriage with Miss Dripping." " Twenty thousand pound," ejaculated Trippet. " She has been jealous, I tell you, and poisoned us. She has put laudanum into the punch." " What, in my punch 1 " said Trippet, growing quite sober and losing his courage. " Lord ! Lord ! " " Don't stand howling there, but run for a doctor ; 'tis our only chance." And away ran Mr. Trippet, as if the deuce were at his heels. The Count had forgotten his murderous intentions regarding his mistress, or had deferred them at least, under the consciousness of his own pressing danger. And it must be said, in the praise of a man who had fought for and against Marlborough and Tallard, that his courage in this trying and novel predicament never for a moment deserted him, but that he showed the greatest daring, as well as ingenuity, in meeting and averting the danger. He flew to the sideboard, where were the relics of a supper, and seizing the mustard and salt pots, and a bottle of oil, he emptied them all into a jug, into which he further poured a vast quantity of hot water. This pleasing mixture he then, without a moment's hesitation, placed to his lips, and swallowed as much of it as nature would allow him. But when he had imbibed about a quart, the anticipated 560 CATHERINE: A STORY eflfect was produced, and he was enabled, by the power of this ingenious extemporaneous emetic, to get rid of much of the poison which Mrs. Catherine had administered to him. He was employed in these efibrts when the doctor entered, along with Mr. Brock and Mr. Trippet ; who was not a little pleased to hear that the poisoned punch had not in all probability been given to him. He was recommended to take some of the Count's mixture, as a precautionary measure ; but this he refused, and retired home, leaving the Count under charge of the physician and his faithful Corporal. It is not necessary to say what further remedies were employed by them to restore the Captain to health ; but after some time the doctor, pronouncing that the danger was, he hoped, averted, recom- mended that his patient should be put to bed, and that somebody should sit by him ; which Brock promised to do. " That she-devil will murder me, if you don't," gasped the poor Count. " You must turn her out of the bedroom ; or break open the door, if she refuses to let you in." And this step was found to be necessary; for, after shouting many times, and in vain, Mr. Brock found a small iron bar (indeed, he had the instrument for many days in his pocket), and forced the lock. The room was empty, the window was open : the pretty barmaid of the " Bugle " had fled. "The chest," said the Count— "is the chest safe?" The Corporal flew to the bed, under which it was screwed, and looked, and said, " It is safe, thank Heaven ! " The window was closed. The Captain, who was too weak to stand without help, was undressed and put to bed. The Corporal sat down by his side ; slumber stole over the eyes of the patient ; and his wakeful nurse marked with satisfaction the progress of the beneficent restorer of health. When the Captain awoke, as he did some time afterwards, he found, very much to his surprise, that a gag had been placed in his mouth, and that the Corporal was in the act of wheeling his bed to another part of the room. He attempted to move, and gave utterance to such unintelligible sounds as could issue through a silk handkerchief " If your honour stirs or cries out in the least, I will cut your honour's throat," said the Corporal. And then, having recourse to his iron bar (the reader will now see why he was provided with such an implement, for he had been meditating this coup for some days), he proceeded first to attempt to burst the lock of the little iron chest in which the Count kept THE BITER BIT 561 his treasure, and, failing in this,' to unscrew it from the ground; which operation he performed satisfactorily. "You see, Count," said he calmly, "when rogues fall out, there's the deuce to pay. You'll have me drummed out of the regiment, will you'! I'm going to leave it of my own accord, look you, and to live like a gentleman for the rest of jny days. Schlafen Sie wohl, noble Captain : bon repos. The Squire wiU be with you pretty early in the morning, to ask for the money you owe him." With these sarcastic observations Mr. Brock departed ; not by the window, as Mrs. Catherine had done, but by the door, quietly, and so into the street. And when^ the next morning, the doctor came to visit his patient, he brought with him a story how, at the dead of night, Mr. Brock had roused the ostler at the stables where the Captain's horses were kept — had told him that Mrs. Catherine had poisoned the Count, and had rim off with a thousand pounds ; and how he and aU lovers of justice ought to scour the country in pursuit of the criminal. For this end Mr. Brock mounted the Count's best horse — that very animal on which he had carried away Mrs. Catherine : and thus, on a single night. Count Maximilian had lost his mistress, his money, his horse, his corporal, and was very near losing his life. CHAPTER IV IN WHICH MRS. CATHERINE BECOMES AN HONEST WOMAN AGAIN IN this woeful plight, moneyless, wifeless, horseless, corporalless, with a gag in his mouth and a rope round his body, are we compelled to leave the gallant Galgenstein, until his friends and the progress of this history shall deliver him from his durance. Mr. Brock's adventures on the Captain's horse must hkemse be pretermitted ; for it is our business to follow Mrs. Catherine through the window by which she made her escape, and among the various chances that befell her. She had one cause to congratulate herself, — that she had not her baby at her back ; for the infant was safely housed under the care of a nurse, to whom the Captain was answerable. Beyond this her prospects were but dismal : no home to fly to, but a few shillings in her pocket, and a whole heap of injuries and dark revengful thoughts in her bosom : it was a sad task to her to look either backwards or forwards. Whither was she to fly 1 How to live ? What good chance was to befriend her 1 There was an angel watching over the steps of Mrs. Oat — not a good one, I think, but one of those from that unnameable place, who have their many subjects here on earth, and often are pleased to extricate them from worse perplexities. Mrs. Cat, now, had not committed murder, but as bad as murder; and as she felt not the smallest repentance in her heart — as she had, in the course of her life and connection with the Captain, performed and gloried in a number of wicked coquetries, idlenesses, vanities, lies, fits of anger, slanders, foul abuses, and what not — she was fairly bound over to this dark angel whom we have alluded to ; and he dealt with her, and aided her, as one of his own children. I do not mean to say that, in this strait, he appeared to her in the likeness of a gentleman in black, and made her sign her name in blood to a document conveying over to him her soul, in exchange for certain conditions to be performed by him. Such diaboKoal bargains have always appeared to me unworthy of the MRS. CAT'S FLIGHT 563 astute personage jvho is supposed to be one of the parties to them ; and who would scarcely be fool enough to pay dearly for that which he can have in a few years for nothing. It is not, then, to be supposed that a demon of darkness appeared to Mrs. Cat, and led her into a flaming chariot harnessed by dragons, and careering through air at the rate of a thousand leagues a minute. No such thing; the vehicle that was sent to aid her was one of a much more vulgar description. The "Liverpool carryvan," then, which in the year 1706 used to perform the journey between London and that place in ten days, left Birmingham about an hour after Mrs. Catherine had quitted that town ; and as she sat weeping on a hillside, and plunged in bitter meditation, the lumbering, jingling vehicle overtook her. The coachman was marching by the side of his horses, and en- couraging them to maintain their pace of two miles an hour ; the passengers had some of them left the vehicle, in order to walk up the lull; and the carriage had arrived at the top of it, and, meditating a brisk trot down the declivity, waited there until the lagging passengers should arrive : when Jehu, cfisting a good-natured glance upon Mrs. Catherine, asked the pretty maid whence she was come, and whether she would like a ride in his carriage. To the latter of which questions Mrs. Catherine replied truly yes ; to the former, her answer was that she had come from Stratford ; whereas, as we very well know, she had lately quitted Birmingham. " Hast thee seen a woman pass this way, on a black horse, with a large bag of goold over the saddle ? " said Jehu, preparing to mount upon the roof of his coach. " No, indeed," said Mrs. Cat. " Nor a trooper on another horse after her — no 1 Well, there be a mortal row down Birmingham way about sich a one. She have kiUed, they say, nine gentlemen at supper, and have strangled a German prince in bed. She have robbed him of twenty thousand guineas, s^nd have rode away on a black horse." "That can't be I," said Mrs. Cat naively, "for I have but three shillings and a groat." " No, it can't be thee, truly, for where's your bag of goold ? and, besides, thee hast got too pretty a face to do such wicked things as to kill nine gentlemen and strangle a German prince." "Law, coachman," said Mrs. Cat, blushing archly — "Law, coachman, do you think so?" The girl would have been pleased with a compliment even on her way to be hanged ; and the parley ended by Mrs. Catherine stepping into the carriage, where there was room for eight people at least, and where two or three indi- viduals had already taken their places. 564 CATHERINE: A STORY For these Mrs. Catherine had in the first place to make a story, which she did ; and a very glib one for a person 'of her years and education. Being asked whither she was bound, and how she came to be alone of a morning sitting by a roadside, she invented a neat history suitable to the occasion, which elicited much interest from her fellow-passengers : one in particular, a young man, who had caught a ghmpse of her face under her hood, was very tender in his attentions to her. But whether it was that she had been too much fatigued by the occurrences of the past day and sleepless night, or whether the little laudanum which she had drunk a few hours previously now began to act upon her, certain it is that Mrs. Cat now suddenly grew sick, feverish, and extraordinarily sleepy; and in this state she continued for many hours, to the pity of all her fellow-travellers. At length the " carryvan " reached the inn, where horses and pas- sengers were accustomed to rest for a few hours, and to dine ; and Mrs. Catherine was somewhat awakened by the stir of the pas- sengers, and the friendly voice of the inn-servant welcoming them to dinner. The gentleman who had been smitten by her beauty now urged her very politely to descend ; which, taking the pro- tection of his arm, she accordingly did. He made some very gallant speeches to her as she stepped out ; and she must have been very much occupied by them, or wrapt up in her own thoughts, or stupefied by sleep, fever, and opium, for she did not take any heed of the place into which she was going : which, had she done, she would probably have preferred remaining in the coach, dinnerless and Ul. Indeed, the inn into which she was about to make her entrance was no other than the " Bugle," from which she set forth at the commencement of this history ; and which then, as now, was kept by her relative, the thrifty Mrs. Score. That good landlady, seeing a lady, in a smart hood and cloak, leaning, as if faint, upon the arm of a gentleman of good appearance, concluded them to be man and wife, and folks of quality too ; and with much discrimination, as well as sympathy, led them through the public kitchen to her own private parlour, or bar, where she handed the lady an arm-chair, and asked what she would like to drink. By this time, and indeed at the very moment she heard her aunt's voice, Mrs. Catherine was aware of her situation ; and when her companion retired, and the landlady, with much officiousness, insisted on removing her hood, she was quite prepared for the screech of surprise which Mrs. Score gave on dropping it, exclaiming, " Why, law bless us, it's our Catherine ! " " I'm very ill, and tired, aunt," said Cat ; " and would give the world for a few hours' sleep." MRS. SCORE IS DECEIVED 565 "A few hours and welcome, my love, and a sack-posset too. You do look sadly tired and poorly, sure enough. Ah, Oat, Cat ! you great ladies are sad rakes, I do believe. I wager now, that with all your balls, and carriages, and fine clothes, you are neither so happy nor so well as when you lived with your poor old aunt, who used to love you so." And with these gentle words, and an embrace or two, which Mrs. Catherine wondered at, and permitted, she was conducted to that very bed which the Count had occupied a year previously, and undressed, and laid in it, and afiectionately tucked up by her aunt, who marvelled at the fineness of her clothes, as she removed them piece by piece; and when she saw that in Mrs. Catherine's pocket there was only the sum of three and four- pence, said archly, " There was no need of money, for the Captain took care of that." Mrs. Cat did not undeceive her; and deceived Mrs. Score certainly was, — for she imagined the well-dressed gentleman who led Cat from the carriage was no other than the Count; and, as she had heard, from time to time, exaggerated reports of the splendour of the establishment which he kept up, she was induced to look upon her niece with the very highest respect, and to treat her as if she were a fine lady. " And so she is a fine lady," Mrs. Score had said months ago, when some of these flattering stories reached her, and she had overcome her first fury at Catherine's elopement. " The girl was very cruel to leave me ; but we must recollect that she is as good as married to a nobleman, and must all forget and forgive, you know." This speech had been made to Doctor Dobbs, who was in the habit of taking a pipe and a tankard at the " Bugle," and it had been roundly reprobated by the worthy divine ; who told Mrs. Score that the crime of Catherine was only the more heinous, if it had been committed from interested motives ; and protested thai, were she a princess, he would never speak to her again. Mrs. Score thought and pronounced the Doctor's opinion to be very bigoted ; indeed, she was one of those persons who have a marvel- lous respect for prosperity, and a corresponding scorn for ill-fortune. When, therefore, she returned to the public room, she went graciously to the gentleman who had led Mrs. Catherine from the carriage, and with a knowing curtsey welcomed him to the " Bugle " ; told him that his lady would not come to dinner, but bade her say, with her best love to his Lordship, that the ride had fatigued her, and that she would lie in bed for an hour or two. This speech was received with much wonder by his Lord- ship ; who was, indeed, no other than a Liverpool tailor going to London to learn fashions ; but he only smiled, and did not un- 566 CATHERINE: A STORY deceive the landlady, who herself went off, smilingly, to bustle about dinner. The two or three hours allotted to that meal by the liberal coachmasters of those days passed away, and Mr. Coachman, de- claring that his horses were now rested enough, and that they had twelve miles to ride, put the steeds to, and summoned the passengers. Mrs. Score, who had seen with much satisfaction that her niece was really ill, and her fever more violent, and hoped to have her for many days an inmate in her house, now came forward, and casting upon the Liverpool tailor a look of profound but respectful melan- choly, said, " My Lord (for I recollect your Lordship quite well), the lady up-stairs is so ill, that it would be a sin to move her : had I not better tell coachman to take down your Lordship's trunks, and the lady's, and make you a bed in the next room 1 " Very much to her surprise, this proposition was received with a roar of laughter. " Madam," said the person addressed, " I'm not a lord, but a tailor and draper ; and as for that young woman, before to-day I never set eyes on her." " What I " screamed out Mrs. Score. " Are not you the Count? Do you mean to say that you a'n't Cat's 1 Do you mean to say that you didn't order her bed, and that you won't pay this here little biin" And with this she produced a document, by which the Count's lady was made her debtor in a sum of half- a-guinea. These passionate words excited more and more laughter. " Pay it, my Lord," said the coachman ; " and then come along, for time presses.'' "Our respects to her Ladyship," said one passenger. "TeU her my Lord can't wait," said another ; and with much merriment one and all quitted the hotel, entered the coach, and rattled off. Dumb — pale with terror and rage — bill in hand, Mrs. Score Imd followed the company ; but when the coach disappeared, her senses returned. Back she flew into the inn, overturning the ostler, not deigning to answer Doctor Dobbs (who, from behind soft tobacco- fumes, mildly asked the reason of her disturbance), and, bounding up-stairs like a fury, she rushed into the room where Catherine lay. ""Well, madam!" said she, in her highest key, "do you mean that you have come into this here house to swindle me 1 Do you dare for to come with your airs here, and call yourself a nobleman's lady, and sleep in the best bed, when you're no better nor a common tramper t I'll thank you, ma'am, to get out, ma'am. I'll have no sick paupers in this house, ma'am. You know your way to the workhouse, ma'am, and there I'll trouble you for to go." And here Mrs. Score proceeded quickly to pull off the bedclothes ; and poor Cat arose, shivering with fright and fever. MRS. CAT TURNED OUT 567 She had no spirit to answer, as she would have done the day before, when an oath from any human being would have brought half-a-dozen from her in return ; or a knife, or a plate, or a leg of mutton, if such had been to her hand. She had no spirit left foi such repartees ; but in reply to the above words of Mrs. Score, and a great many more of the same kind — which are not necessary for our history, but which that lady uttered with inconceivable shrillness and volubiUty, the poor wench could say little, — only sob and shiver, and gather up the clothes again, crying, "Oh, aunt, don't speak unkind to me ! I'm very unhappy, and very ill ! " " 111, you strumpet 1 ill, be hanged ! Ill is as ill does ; and if you are ill, it's only what you merit. Get out ! dress yourself — tiump ! Get to the workhouse, and don't come to cheat me any more! Dress yourself— do you Jiear? Satin petticoat, forsooth, and lace to her smock ! " Poor, wretched, chattering, burning, shivering Catherine huddled on her clothes as well she might : she seemed hardly to know or see what she was doing, and did not reply a single word to the many that the landlady let fall. Cat tottered down the narrow stab's, and tlirough the kitchen, and to the door ; which she caught hold of, and paused awhile, and looked into Mrs. Score's face, as for one more chance. " Get out, you nasty trull ! " said that lady sternly, with arms akimbo ; and poor Catherine, with a most piteous scream and outgush of tears, let go of the door-post and staggered away into the road. " Why, no — yes — no — it is poor Catherine Hall, as I live ! " said somebody, starting up, shoving aside Mrs. Score very rudely, and running into the road, wig off and pipe in hand. It was honest Doctor Dobbs ; and the result of his interview with Mrs. Cat was, that he gave up for ever smoking his pipe at the "Bugle"; and that she lay sick of a fever for some weeks in his house. Over this part of Mrs. Cat's history we shall be as brief as possible ; for, to tell the truth, nothing immoral occurred during her whole stay at the good Doctor's house ; and we are not going to insult the reader by offering him silly pictures of piety, cheerfulness, good sense, and simplicity ; which are milk-and-water virtues after all, and have no relish with them like a good strong vice, highly peppered. Well, to be short : Doctor Dobbs, though a profound theologian, was a very simple gentleman ; and before Mrs. Cat had been a month in the house, he had learned to look upon her as one of the most injured and repentant characters in the world ; and had, 568 CATHERINE: A STORY with Mrs. Dobbs, resolved many plans for the future welfare of the young Magdalen. " She was but sixteen, my love, recollect," said the Doctor ; " she was carried off, not by her own wish either. The Count swore he would marry her ; and though she did not leave him until that monster tried to poison her, yet think what a fine Christian spirit the poor girl has shown ! she forgives him as heartily — more heartily, I am sure, than I do Mrs. Score for turning her adrift in that wicked way." The reader will perceive some difference in the Doctor's statement and ours, which we assure him is the true one ; but the fact is, the honest rector had had his tale fi-om Mrs. Cat, and it was not in his nature to doubt, if she had told him a history ten times more wonderful. The reverend gentleman and his wife then laid their heads together ; and, recollecting something of John Hayes's former attach- ment to Mrs. Oat, thought that it might be advantageously renewed, should Hayes be still constant. Having very adroitly sounded Catherine (so adroitly, indeed, as to ask her "whether she would like to marry John Hayes 1 "), that young woman had replied, " No. She had loved John Hayes — he had been her _early, only love ; but she was fallen now, and not good enough for him." And this made the Dobbs family admire her more and more, and cast about for means to bring the marriage to pass. Hayes was away from the village when Mrs. Oat had arrived there ; but he did not fail to hear of her illness, and how her aunt had deserted her, and the good Doctor taken her in. The worthy Doctor himself met Mr. Hayes on the green ; and, telling him that some repairs were wanting in his kitchen, begged him to step in and examine them. Hayes first said no, plump, and then no, gently; and then pished, and then psha'd ; and then, trembHng very much, went in : and there sat Mrs. Catherine, trembling very much too. What passed between them t If your Ladyship is anxious to know, think of that morning when Sir John himself popped the question. Could there be anything more stupid than the conversa- tion which took place 1 Such stuff is not worth repeating : no, not when uttered by people in the very genteelest of company ; as for the amorous dialogue of a carpenter and an ex-barmaid, it is worse still. Suffice it to say, that Mr. Hayes, who had had a year to recover from his passion, and had, to all appearances, quelled it, was over head and ears again the very moment he saw Mrs. Cat, and had all his work to do again. Whether the Doctor knew what was going on, I can't say ; but this matter is certain, that every evening Hayes was now in the rectory kitchen, or else walking abroad with Mrs. Catherine : and whether she ran away with him, or he with her, I shall not make it INTKRRUFTFD MARRIAGE. MRS. OAT WINS THE TITLE OF WIFE 569 my business to inquire ; but certainly at the end of three months (which must be crowded up into this one little sentence), another elopement took place in the village. " I should have prevented it, certainly," said Doctor Dobbs — whereat his wife smiled ; " but the young people kept the matter a secret from me." And so he Would, had he known it ; but though Mrs. Dobbs had made several attempts to acquaint him with the precise hour and method of the intended elopement, he peremptorily ordered her to hold her tongue. The fact is, that the matter had been discussed by the rector's lady many times. " Young Hayes," would ^he say, " has a pretty little fortune and trade of his own ; he is an only son, and may marry as he likes j and, though not specially handsome, generous, or amiable, has an undeniable love for Cat (who, you know, must not be particular), and the sooner she marries him, I think, the better. They can't be married at our church, you know, and — " "Well," said the Doctor, " if they are married elsewhere, / can't help it, and know nothing about it, look you." And upon this hint the elopement took place : which, indeed, was peaceably performed early one Sunday morning about a month after ; Mrs. Hall getting behind Mr. Hayes on a pilKon, and all the children of the parsonage giggling behind the window-blinds to see the pair go off. During this month Mr. Hayes had caused the banns to be published at the town of Worcester; judging rightly that in a great town they would cause no such remark as in a solitary village, and thither he conducted his lady. iU-starred John Haygs ! whither do the dark Fates lead you ? O foolish Doctor Dobbs, to forget that young people ought to' honour their parents, and to yield to sUly Mrs. Dobbs's ardent propensity for making matches ! The London Gazette of the 1st April 1706, contains a pro- clamation by the Queen for putting into execution an Act of Parlia- ment for the encouragement and increase of seamen, and for the better and speedier manning of her Majesty's fleet, which authorises all justices to issue warrants to constables, petty constables, head- boroughs, and tything-men, to enter and, if need be, to break open the doors of any houses where they shall believe deserting seamen to be ; and for the further increase and encouragement of the navy, to take able-bodied landsmen when seamen fail. This Act, which occupies four columns of the Gazette, and another of similar length and meaning for pressing men into the army, need not be quoted at length here ; but caused a mighty stir throughout the kingdom at the time when it was in force. As one has seen or heard, after the march of a great army, a 570 CATHERINE: A STORY number of rogues and loose characters bring up the rear; in like manner, at the tail of a great measure of State, follow many roguish personal interests, which are protected by the main body. The great measure of Reform, for instance, carried along with it much private jobbing and swindling — as could be shown were we not inclined to deal mildly with the Whigs ; and this Enlistment Act, which, in order to maintain the British glories in Flanders, dealt most cruelly with the British people in England (it is not the first time that a man has been pinched at home to make a fine appear- ance abroad), created a great company of rascals and informers throughout the land, who lived upon it; or upon extortion from those who were subject to it, or not being subject to it were frightened into the belief that they were. When Mr. Hayes and his lady had gone through the marriage ceremony at Worcester, the former, concluding that at such a place lodging and food might be procured at a cheaper rate, looked about carefully for the meanest public-house in the town, where he might deposit his bride. In the kitchen of this inn, a party of men were drinking ; and, as Mrs. Hayes declined, with a proper sense of her superiority, to eat in company with such low fellows, the landlady showed her and her husband to an inner apartment, where they might be served in private. The kitchen party seemed, indeed, not such as a lady would choose to join. There was one huge lanky fellow, that looked like a soldier, and had a halberd ; another was habited in a s^or's costume, with a fascinating patch over one eye ; and a third, who seemed the leader of the gang, was a stout man in a sailor's frock and a horseman's jack-boots, whom one might fancy, if he were anything, to be a horse-marine. Of one of these worthies, Mrs. Hayes thought she knew the figure and voice ; and she found her conjectures were true, when, all of a sudden, three people, without, " With your leave," or " By your leave," burst into the room, into which she and her spouse had retired. At their head was no other than her old friend, Mr. Peter Brock; he had his sword drawn, and his finger to his lips, enjoining silence, as it were, to Mrs. Catherine. He with the patch on his eye seized incontinently on Mr. Hayes ; the tall man with the halberd kept the door ; two or three heroes supported the one- eyed man ; who, with a loud voice, exclaimed, " Down with your arms — no resistance ! you are my prisoner, in the Queen's name ! " And here, at this lock, we shall leave the whole company until the next chapter ; which may possibly explain what they were. CHAPTER V CONTAINS MR. BROCK'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY, AND OTHER MATTER YOU don't sure believe these menl " said Mrs. Hayes, as soon as the first alarm caused by the irruption of Mr. Brock and his companions had subsided. " These are no magistrate's men : it is but a trick to rob you of your money, John." " I will never give up a farthing of it ! " screamed Hayes. "Yonder fellow," continued Mrs. Catherine, "I know, for all his drawn sword and fierce looks ; his name is " " Wood, madam, at your service ! " said Mr. Brock. " I am follower to Mr. Justice Gobble, of this town : a'n't I, Tim 1 " said Mr. Brock to the tall halberdman who was keeping the door. "Yes, indeed," said Tim archly; "we're all followers of his honour Justice Gobble." " Certainly ! " said the one-eyed man. " Of course ! " cried the man in the nightcap. " I suppose, madam, you're satisfied now ? " continued Mr. Brock, alias Wood. "You can't deny the testimony of gentlemen like these ; and our commission is to apprehend all able-bodied male persons who can give no good account of themselves, and enrol them in the service of her Majesty. Look at this Mr. Hayes " (who stood trembling in his shoes). " Can there be a bolder, properer, straighter gentleman ? We'U have him for a grenadier before the day's over ! " " Take heart, John — don't be frightened. Psha ! I tell you I know the man," cried out Mrs. Hayes: "he is only here to extort money." " Oh, for that matter, I do think I recollect the lady. Let me see ; where was it 1 At Birmingham, I think, — ay, at Birmingham, — about the time when they tried to murder Count Gal " "Oh, sir!" here cried Madam Hayes, dropping her voice at once from a tone of scorn to one of gentlest entreaty, " what is it you want with my husband 1 I know not, indeed, if ever I saw you before. For what do you seize him ? How much will you take to release him, and let us go ? Name the sum ; he is rich, and " " Bich, Catherine ! " cried Hayes. " Kich ! — heavens ! Sir, 572 CATHERINE: A STORY I have nothing but my hands to support me : I am a poor car- penter, sir, working under my father ! " " He can give twenty guineas to be free ; I know he can ! " said Mrs. Cat. " I have but a guinea to carry me home," sighed out Hayes. "But you have twenty at home, John," said his wife. "Give these brave gentlemen a writing to your mother, and she will pay ; and you will let us free then, gentlemen — won't you ? " " When the money's paid, yes," said the leader, Mr. Brock. " Oh, in course," echoed the tall man with the halberd. " What's a thriiling detintion, my dear ? " continued he, addressing Hayes. "We'll amuse you in your absence, and drink to the health of your pretty wife here." This promise, to do the halberdier justice, he fulfilled. He called upon the landlady to produce the desired liquor ; and when Mr. Hayes flung himself at that lady's feet, demanding succour from her, and asking whether there was no law in the land — " There's no law at the ' Three Rooks ' except this ! " said Mr. Brock in reply, holding up a horse-pistol. To which the hostess, grinning, assented, and silently went her way. After some further solicitations, John Hayes drew out the necessary letter to his father, stating that he was pressed, and would not be set free under a sum of twenty guineas ; and that it would be of no use to detain the bearer of the letter, inasmuch as the gentlemen who had possession of him vowed that they would murder him should any harm befall their comrade. As a further proof of the authenticity of the letter, a token was added : a ring that Hayes wore, and that his mother had given him. The missives were, after some consultation, entrusted to the care of the taU halberdier, who seemed to rank as second in command of the forces that marched under Corporal Brock. This gentleman was called indifferently Ensign, Mr., or even Captain Macshane ; his intimates occasionally in sport called him Nosey, from the prominence of that feature in his countenance ; or Spindleshins, for the very reason which brought on the first Edward a similar nickname. Mr. Macshane then quitted Worcester, mounted on Hayes's horse; leaving all parties at the " Three Rooks " not a little anxious for his return. This was not to be expected until the next morning; and a weary nuit de noces did Mr. Hayes pass. Dinner was served, and, according to promise, Mr. Brock and his two friends enjoyed the meal along with the bride and bridegroom. Punch followed, and this was taken in company; tlien came supper, Mr. Brock alone partook of this, the other two gentlemen preferring the society of their pipes and the landlady in the kitchen. MR. BROOK AND HIS PRISONERS 573 " It is a sorry entertainment, I confess," said the ex-corporal, " and a dismal way for a gentleman to spend his bridal night ; but somebody must stay with you, my dears : for who knows but you might take a fancy to scream out of window, and then there would be murder, and the deuce and all to pay. One of us must stay, and my friends love a pipe, so you must put up with my company until they can relieve guard." The reader will not, of course, expect that three people who were to pass the night,' however unwillingly, together in an inn- room, should sit there dumb and moody, and without any personal communication ; on the contrary, Mr. Brock, as an old soldier, entertained his prisoners with the utmost courtesy, and did all that lay in his power, by the help of liquor and conversation, to render their durance tolerable. On the bridegroom his attentions were a good deal thrown away : Mr. Hayes consented to drink copiously, but could not be made to talk much ; and, in fact, the fright of the seizui'e, the fate hanging over him should his parents refuse a ransom, and the tremendous outlay of money which would take place should they accede to it, weighed altogether on his mind so much as utterly to unman it. As for Mrs. Oat, I don't think she was at all sorry in her heart to see the old Oorporal : for he had been a friend of old times — dear times to her ; she had had from him, too, and felt for him, not a little kindness ; and there was really a very tender, innocent friendship subsisting between this pair of rascals, who relished much a night's conversation together. The Oorporal, after treating his prisoners to punch in great quantities, proposed the amusement of cards : over which Mr. Hayes had not been occupied more than an hour, when he found himself so excessively sleepy as to be persuaded to fling himself down on the bed dressed as he was, and there to snore away until morning. Mrs. Catherine had no inclination for sleep ; and the Oorporal, equally wakeful, plied incessantly the bottle, and held with her a gi-eat deal of conversation. The sleep, which was equivalent to the absence, of John Hayes took all restraint from their talk. She explained to Brock the circumstances of her marriage, which we have already described ; they wondered at the chance which had brought them together at the " Three Rooks " ; nor did Brock at all hesitate to tell her at once that his calling was quite illegal, and that his intention was simply to extort money. The worthy Oorporal had not the slightest shame regarding his own profession, and cut many jokes with Mrs. Oat about her late one ; her attempt to murder the Oount, and her future prospects as a wife. And here, having brought him upon the scene again, we may 574 CATHERINE: A STOKY as well shortly narrate some of the principal cLrcumstances which befell him after his sudden departure from Binningham ; and which he narrated with much candour to Mrs. Catherine. He rode the Captain's horse to Oxford (having exchanged his military dress for a civil costume on the road), and at Oxford he disposed of " George of Denmark," a great bargain, to one of the heads of colleges. As soon as Mr. Brock, who took on himself the style and title of Captain Wood, had sufiiciently examined the curiosities of the University, he proceeded at once to the capital : the only place for a gentleman of his fortune and figure. Here he read, with a great deal of philosophical indifference, in the Daili/ Post, the Courant, the Observator, the Gazette, and the chief journals of those days, which he made a point of examining at " Button's " and " WiU's," an accurate description of his person, his clothes, and the horse he rode, and a promise of fifty guineas reward to any person who would give an account of him (so that he might be captured) to Captain Count Galgenstein at Birmingham, to Mr. Murfey at the " Golden Ball " in the Savoy, or Mr. Bates at the " Blew Anchor in PickadiUy." But Captain Wood, in an enormous full-bottomed periwig that cost him sixty pounds,* with high red heels to his shoes, a silver sword, and a gold snuffbox, and a large wound (obtained, he said, at the siege of Barcelona), which disfigured much of his countenance, and caused him to cover one eye, was in small danger, he thought, of being mistaken for Corporal Brock, the deserter of Cutts's ; and strutted along the Mall with as grave an air as the very best nobleman who appeared there. He was generally, indeed, voted to be very good company ; and as his expenses were unlimited (" A few convent candlesticks," my dear, he used to whisper, "melt into a vast number of doubloons "), he commanded as good society as he chose to ask for ; and it was speedily known as a fact throughout town, that Captain Wood, who had served under His Majesty Charles III. of Spain, had carried off the diamond petti- coat of Our Lady of Compostella, and lived upon the proceeds of the fraud. People were good Protestants in those days, and many a one longed to have been his partner in the pious plunder. All surmises concerning his wealth. Captain Wood, with much discretion, encouraged. He contradicted no report, but was quite ready to confirm all ; and when two different rumours were positively put to him, he used only to laugh, and say, " My dear sir, / don't make the stories ; but I'm not called upon to deny them ; and I give you fair warning, that I shall assent to every one of them ; so * In the ingenious contemporary history of Moll Flanders, a, periwig is mentioned as costing that sum. MK. BROCK'S ACCOUNT OF HIS EXPLOITS 575 you may believe them or not, as you please." And so he had the reputation of being a gentleman, not only wealthy, but discreet. In truth, it was almost a pity that worthy Brock had not been a gentleman bom ; in which case, doubtless, he would have lived and died as became his station ; for he spent his money like a gentle- man, he loved women like a gentleman, he would fight like a gentleman, he gambled and got drunk like a gentleman. What did he want else 1 Only a matter of six descents, a little money, and an estate, to render him the equal of St. John, or Harley. " Ah, those were merry days ! " would Mr. Brock say, — for he loved, in a good old age, to recount the story of his London fashionable campaign ; — " and when I think how near I was to become a great man, and to die perhaps a general, I can't but marvel at the wicked obstinacy of my ill-luck." "I will teU you what I did, my dear: I had lodgings in Piccadilly, as if I were a lord ; I had two large periwigs, and three suits of laced clothes ; I kept a little black dressed out like a Turk ; I walked daily in the Mall; I dined at the politest ordinary in Covent Grarden ; I frequented the best of cofiee-houses, and knew all the pretty fellows of the town ; I cracked a bottle with Mr. Addison, and lent many a piece to Dick Steele (a sad debauched rogue, my dear) ; and, above all, I'll tell you what I did — the noblest stroke that "sure ever a gentleman performed in my situation. " One day, going into ' Will's,' I saw a crowd of gentlemen gathered together, and heard one of them say, ' Captain Wood ! I don't know the man ; but there was a Captain Wood in Southwell's regiment.' Egad, it was my Lord Peterborough himself who was talking about me. So, putting off my hat, I made a most gracious cang^ to my Lord, and said I knew him, and rode behind him at Barcelona on our entry into that town. " ' No doubt you did. Captain Wood,' says my Lord, taking my hand ; ' and no doubt you know me : for many more know Tom Fool, than Tom Fool knows.' And with this, at which all of us laughed, my Lord called for a bottle, and he and I sat down and drank it together. " Well, he was in disgrace, as you know, but he grew mighty fond of me, and — would you beheve it 1 — nothing would satisfy him but presenting me at Court ! Yes, to Her Sacred Majesty the Queen, and my Lady Marlborough, who was in high feather. Ay, truly, the sentinels on duty used to salute me as if I were Corporal John himself! I was on the high road to fortune. Charley Mordaunt used to call me Jack, and drink canary at my chambers ; I used to make one at my Lord Treasurer's levee ; I had even got Mr. Army-Secretary Walpole to take a hundred guineas as a com- 576 CATHEEINE: A STORY pliment : and he had promised me a majority : when bad luck turned, and all my fine hopes were overthrown in a twinkling. " You see, my dear, that after we had left that gaby, Galgenstein, — ha, ha, — with a gag in his mouth, and twopence-halfpenny in his pocket, the honest Count was in the sorriest plight in the world ; owing money here and there to tradesmen, a cool thousand to the Warwickshire Squire : and all this on eighty pounds a year ! Well, for a little time the tradesmen held their hands ; while the jolly Count moved heaven and earth to catch hold of his dear Corporal and his dear money-bags over again, and placarded every town from London to Liverpool with descriptions of my pretty person. The bird was flown, however, — the money clean gone, — and when there was no hope of regaining it, what did the creditors do but clap my gay gentleman into Shrewsbury gaol : where I wish he had rotted, for my part. " But no such luck for honest Peter Brock, or Captain Wood, as he was in those days. One blessed Monday I went to wait on Mr. Secretary, and he squeezed my hand and whispered to me that I was to be Major of a regiment in Virginia — the very thing : for you see, my dear, I didn't care about joining my Lord Duke in Flanders ; being pretty well known to the army there. The Secretary squeezed my hand (it had a fifty-pound bill in it) and wished me joy, and called me Major, and bowed me out of his closet into the anteroom ; and, as gay as may be, I went off to the ' Tilt-yard Cofiee-house ' in Whitehall, which is much frequented by gentlemen of our profession, where I bragged not a little of my good luck. " Amongst the company were several of my acquaintance, and amongst them a gentleman I did not much care to see, look you ! I saw a uniform that I knew — red and yellow facings — Cutts's, my dear; and the wearer of this was no other than his Excellency Gustavus Adolphus Maximilian, whom we all know of ! " He stared me full in the face, right into my eye (t'other one was patched, you know) ; and after standing stock-stiU with his mouth open, gave a step back, and then a step forward, and then screeched out, ' It's Brock ! ' " ' I beg your pardon, sir,' says I ; 'did you speak to me ? ' " ' I'll swear it's Brock,' cries Gal, as soon as he hears my voice, and laid hold of my cuff (a pretty bit of Mechhn as ever you saw, by the way). " ' Sirrah ! ' says I, drawing it back, and giving my Lord a little touch of the fist (just at the last button of the waistcoat, my dear, — a rare place if you wish to prevent a man from speaking too much: it sent him reeling to the other end of the room). &ytMN.SQ,,-^, CAPTAIN BKOCK APPKARS AT COURT WITH MY LORD PETERBOROUGH. AN AWKWARD RENCONTRE 577 ' Ruffian ! ' says I. ' Dog ! ' says I. ' Insolent puppy and cox- comb ! what do you mean by laying your hand on me 1 ' " ' Faith, Major, you giv him his billyful,' roared out a long Irish unattached ensign, that I had treated with many a glass of Nantz at the tavern. And, so, indeed, I had; for the wretch could not speak for some minutes, and all the officers stood laughing at him as he writhed and wriggled hideously. " ' Gentlemen, this is a monstrous scandal,' says one officer. ' Men of rank and honour at fists like a parcel of carters ! ' " ' Men of honour ! ' says the Count, who had fetched up his breath by this time. (I made for the door, but Macshane held me and said, 'Major, you are not going to shirk him, sure?' Where- upon I gripped his hand and vowed I would have the dog's life.) " ' Men of honour ! ' says the Count. ' I tell you the man is a deserter, a thief, and a swindler ! He was my corporal, and ran away with a thou ' " ' Dog, you lie ! ' I roared out, and made another cut at him with my cane ; but the gentlemen rushed between us. " ' bluthanowns ! ' says honest Macshane, ' the lying scounthrel this fellow is ! Gentlemen, I swear be me honour that Captain Wood was wounded at Barcelona ; and that I saw him there ; and that he and I ran away together at the battle of Almanza, and bad luck to us.' " You see, my dear, that these Irish have the strongest imagi- nations in the world ; and that I had actually persuaded poor Mac that he and I were friends in Spain. Everybody knew Mac, who was a character in his way, and believed him. " ' Strike a gentleman ! ' says I. ' I'll have your blood, I will.' " ' This instant,' says the Count, who was boiling with fury ; ' and where you like.' " ' Montague House,' says I. ' Good,' says he. And off he went. In good time too, for the constables came in at the thought of such a disturbance, and wanted to take us in charge. " But the gentlemen present, being military men, would not hear of this. Out came Mac's rapier, and that of half-a-dozen others ; and the constables were then told to do their duty if they hked, or to take a crown-piece, and leave us to ourselves. Off they went ; and presently, in a couple of coaches, the Count and his friends, I and mine, drove off to the fields behind Montague House. Oh that vile coffee-house ! why did I enter it ? " We came to the ground. Honest Macshane was my second, and much disappointed because the second on the other side would not make a fight of it, and exchange a few passes with him ; but he was an old major, a cool old hand, as brave as steel, and no fool. 4 2 578 CATHERINE: A STORY Well, the swords are measured, Galgenstein strips off his doublet, and I my handsome cut-velvet in like fashion. Galgenstein flings off his hat, and I handed mine over — the lace on it cost me twenty pounds. I longed to be at him, for — curse him ! — I hate him, and know that he has no chance with me at sword's-play. " ' You'll not fight in that periwig, sure 1 ' says Macshane. ' Of course not,' says I, and took it off. "May all barbers be roasted in flames; may all periwigs, bob- wigs, scratchwigs, and Ramillies cocks, frizzle in purgatory from this day forth to the end of time ! Mine was the ruin of me : what might I not have been now but for that wig ! "I gave it over to Ensign Macshane, and with it went what I had quite forgotten, the large patch which I wore over one eye, which popped out fierce, staring, and lively as was ever any eye in the world. " ' Come on ! ' says I, and made a lunge at my Count ; but he sprang back (the dog was as active as a hare, and knew, from old times, that I was his master with the small-sword), and his second, wondering, struck up my blade. " ' I will not fight that man,' says he, looking mighty pale. ' I swear upon my honour that his name is Peter Brock : he was for two years ray corporal, and deserted, running away with a thousand pounds of my moneys. Look at the fellow ! What is the matter with his eye ? why did he wear a patch over it 1 But stop ! ' says he. ' I have more proof Hand me my pocket-book.' And from it, sure enough, he produced the infernal proclamation announcing my desertion ! ' See if the fellow has a scar across his left ear ' (and I can't say, my dear, but what I have : it was done by a cursed Dutchman at the Boyne). ' Tell me if he has not got C.R. in blue upon his right arm' (and there it is sure enough). 'Yonder swagger- ing Irishman may be his accomplice for what I know; but I will have no dealings with Mr. Brock, save with a constable for a second.' " 'This is an odd story, Captain Wood,' said the old Major who acted for the Count. " ' A scounthrelly falsehood regarding me and my friend ! ' shouted out Mr. Macshane ; ' and the Count shall answer for it.' " ' Stop, stop ! ' says the Major. ' Captain Wood is too gallant a gentleman, I am sure, not to satisfy the Count ; and will show us that he has no such mark on his arm as only private soldiers put there.' "'Captain Wood,' says I, 'will do no such thing. Major. I'll fight that scoundrel Galgenstein, or you, or any of you, like a man of honour ; but I won't submit to be searched like a thief! ' '■'■ ' No, in coorse,' said Macshane. " ' I must take my man off the ground,' says the Major. CAPTAIN WOOD SCENTS MISCHIEF 579 « ( ^ ' Well, take him, sir,' says I, in a rage ; ' and just let me have the pleasure of telUng him that he's a coward and a liar ; and that my lodgings are in Piccadilly, where, if ever he finds courage to meet me, he may hear of me ! ' " ' Faugh ! I shpit on ye all,' cries my gallant ally Macshane. And sure enough he kept his word, or all but — suiting the action to it at any rate. "And so we gathered up our clothes, and went back in our separate coaches, and no blood spilt. " ' And is it thrue now,' said Mr. Macshane, when we Were alone — 'is it thrue now, all these divvies have been saying?' " ' Ensign,' says I, ' you're a man of the world 1 ' " ' 'Deed and I am, and insign these twenty-two years.' " ' Perhaps you'd like a few pieces ? ' says I. " ' Faith and I should ; for, to tell you the secred thrut, I've not tasted mate these four days.' '"Well then, Ensign, it is true,' says I; 'and as for meat, you shall have some at the fi^st cook-shop.' I bade the coach stop until he bought a plateful, which he ate in the carriage, for my time was precious. I just told him the whole story : at which he laughed, and swore that it was the best piece of generalship he ever heard on. When his belly was full, I took out a couple of guineas and gave them to him. Mr. Macshane began to cry at this, and kissed me, and swore he never would desert me : as, indeed, my dear, I don't think he will ; for we have been the best of friends ever since, and' he's the only man I ever could trust, I think. " I don't know what put it into my head, but I had a scent of some mischief in the wind ; so stopped the coach a little before I got home, and, turning into a tavern, begged Macshane to go before me to my lodging, and see if the coast was clear : which he did ; and came back to me as pale as death, saying that the house was full of constables. The cursed quarrel at the Tilt-yard had, I suppose, set the beaks upon me ; and a pretty sweep they made of it. Ah, my dear ! five hundred pounds in money, five suits of laced clothes, three periwigs, besides laced shirts, swords, canes, and snuffboxes ; and all to go back to that scoundrel Count. " It was all over with me, I saw — no more being a gentleman for riie ; and if I remained to be caught, only a choice between Tyburn and a file of grenadiers. My love, under such circumstances, a gentleman can't be particular, and must be prompt; the livery- stable was hard by where I used to hire my coach to go to Court, — ha ! ha ! — and was known as a man of substance. Thither I went immediately. ' Mr. Warmmash,' says I, ' my gallant friend here and I have a mind for a ride and a supper at Twickenham, so you 580 CATHERINE: A STORY must lend iis a pair of your best horses.' Which he did in a twinkling, and ofl' we rode. "We did not go into the Park, but turned off and cantered smartly up towards Kilburn ; and, when we got into the country, galloped as if the devil were at our heels. Bless you, my love, it was all done in a minute : and the Ensign and I found ourselves regular knights of tlie road, before we knew where we were almost. Only think of our finding you and your new husband at the ' Three Rooks ' ! There's not a greater fence than the landlady in all the country. It was she that put us on seizing your husband, and introduced us to the other two gentlemen, whose names I don't know any more tlian the dead." " And what became of the horses "i " said Mrs. Catherine to Mr. Brock, when his tale was finished. " Rips, madam," said he ; " mere rips. We sold them at Stour- bridge fair, and got but thirteen guineas for the two." "And — and — the Count, Max; where is he. Brock?" sighed she. "Whew!" whistled Mr. Brock. "What, hankering after him still 1 My dear, he is off to Flanders with his regiment ; and, I make no doubt, there have been twenty Countesses of Galgeustein since yoiu- time." " I don't believe any such thing, sir," said Mrs. Catherine, starting up very angrily. " If you did, I suppose you'd laudanum him ; wouldn't you ? " "Leave the room, fellow," said the lady. But she recollected herself speedily again; and, clasping her hands, and looking very wretched at Brock, at the ceiling, at the floor, at her husband (from whom she violently turned away her head), she began to cry piteously : to which tears the Corporal set up a gentle accompani- ment of whistling, as they trickled one after another down her nose. I don't think they were tears of ]-epentance ; but of regret for the time when she had her first love, and her fine clothes, and her white hat and blue feather. Of the two, the Corporal's whistle was much more innocent than the girl's sobbing : he was a rogue ; but a good-natured old fellow when his humour was not crossed. Surely our novel-writers make a great mistake in divesting their rascals of all gentle human qualities : they have such — and the only sad point to think of is, in all private concerns of life, abstract feelings, and dealings with friends, and so on, how dreadfully like a rascal is to an honest man. The" man who murdered the Italian boy, set him first to play with his cliildreu whom he loved, and who doubtless deplored his loss. CHAPTER VI ADVENTURES OF THE AMBASSADOR, MR. MACSHANE IF we had. not been obliged to follow history in all respects, it is probable that we should have left out the last adventure of Mrs. Catherine and her husband, at the inn at Worcester, alto- gether; for, in truth, very little came of it, and it is not very romantic or striking. But we are bound to stick closely, above all, by THE TRUTH — the truth, though it be not particularly pleasant to read of or to tell. As anybody may read in the " Newgate Calendar," Mr. and Mrs. Hayes were taken at an inn at Worcester ; were confined there ; were swindled by persons who pretended to impress the bridegroom for military service. What is one to do after that^ Had we been writing novels instead of authentic histories, we might have carried them anywhere else we chose : and we had a great mind to make Hayes philosophising with Bolingbroke, like a certain Devereux ; and Mrs. Catherine maltresse en titre to Mr. Alexander Pope, Doctor Sacheverel, Sir John Eeade the oculist. Dean Swift, or Marshal Tallard ; as the very commonest romancer would under such circumstances. But . alas and alas ! truth must be spoken, whatever else is in the wind ; and the excellent " Newgate Calendar," which contains the biographies and thanatographies of Hayes and his wife, does not say a word of their connections with any of the leading literary or military heroes of the time of Her Majesty Queen Anne. The " Calendar " says, in so many words, that Hayes was obliged to send to his father in Warwickshire for money to get him out of the scrape, and that the old gentleman came down to his aid. By this truth must we stick ; and not for the sake of the most brilUant episode, — no, not for a bribe of twenty extra guineas per sheet, would we depart from it. Mr. Brock's account of his adventure in ' London has given the reader some short notice of his friend, Mr. Macshane. Neither the wits nor the principles of that worthy Ensign were particularly firm : for drink, poverty, and a crack on the skull at the battle of Steenkirk had served to injure the former ; and the Ensign was not in his best days possessed of any share of the latter. He had really, at one period, held such a rank in the army, but pawned his half-pay for 582 CATHERINE; A STORY drink and play ; and for many years past had lived, one of the hundred thousand nuracles of our city, upon nothing that anybody knew of, or of which he himself could give any account. Who has not a catalogue of these men in his list "i who can tell whence comes the occasional clean shirt, who suppHes the continual means of drunken- ness, who wards off the daily-impending starvation t Their life is a wonder from day to day : their breakfast a wonder ; their dinner a miracle ; their bed an interposition of Providence. If you and I, my dear sir, want a shilling to-morrow, who will give it us 1 Will our butchers give us mutton-chops 1 will our laundresses clothe us in clean linen 1 — not a bone or a rag. Standing as we do (may it be ever so) somewhat removed from want,* is there one of us who does not shudder at the thought of descending into the lists to combat with it, and expect anything but to be utterly crushed in the encounter 1 Not a bit of it, my dear sir. It takes' much more than you think for to starve a man. Starvation is very little when you are used to it. Some people I know even, who live on it quite com- fortably, and make their daily bread by it. It had been our friend, Macshane's sole profession for many years ; and he did not fail to draw from it such a livelihood as was sufficient, and perhaps too good, for him. He managed to dine upon it a certain or rather uncertain number of days in the week, to sleep somewhere, and to get drunk at least .three hundred times a year. He was known to one or two noblemen who occasionally helped him with a few pieces, and whom he helped in turn — never mind how. He had other acquaintances whom he pestered undauntedly ; and from whom he occasionally extracted a dinner, or a crown, or mayhap, by mistake, a gold-headed cane, which found its way to the pawnbroker's. When flush of casji, he would appear at the coffee-house ; when low in funds, the deuce knows into what mystic caves and dens he slunk for food and lodging. He was perfectly ready with his sword, and when sober, or better still, a very little tipsy, was a complete master of it ; in the art of boasting and lying he had hardly any equals ; in shoes he stood six feet five inches ; and here is his complete signalement. It was a fact that he had been in Spain as a volun- teer, where he had shown some gallantry, had had a brain-fever, and was sent home to starve as before. Mr. Macshane had, however, like Mr. Conrad, the Corsair, one virtue in the midst of a thousand crimes, — he was faithful to his employer for the time being : and a story is told of him, which may or may not be to his credit, viz., that being hired on one occasion * The author, it must be rememliered, has his lodgings and food provided for him by the government of his country. ENSIGN MACSHANE'S MISSION 683 by a certain lord to inflict a punishment upon a roturier who had crossed his lordship in his amours, he, Macshane," did actually refuse from the person to be belaboured, and who entreated his forbearance, a larger sum of money than the nobleman gave him for the beating ; which he performed punctually, as bound in honour and friendship. This tale would the Ensign himself relate, with much selt-satisfaction ; and when, after the sudden flight from London, he and Brock took to their roving occupation, he cheerfully submitted to the latter as his commanding ofiicer, called him always Major, and, bating blunders and drunkenness, was perfectly true to his leader. He had a notion — and, indeed, I don't know that it was a wrong one — that his profession was now, as before, strictly military, and according to the rules of honour. Eobbing he called plundering the enemy ; and hanging was, in his idea, a dastardly and cruel advantage that the latter took, and that called for the sternest reprisals. The other gentlemen concerned were strangers to Mr. Brock, who felt little inclined to trust either of them upon such a message, or with such a large sum to bring back. They had, strange to say, a similar mistrust on their side ; but Mr. Brock lugged out five guineas, which he placed in the landlady's hand as security for his comrade's return ; and Ensign Macshane, being mounted on poor Hayes's own horse, set off to visit the parents of that unhappy young man. It was a gallant sight to behold our thieves' ambas- sador, in a faded sky-blue suit with orange facings, in a pair of huge jack-boots vmconscious of blacking, with a mighty basket-hilted sword by his side, and a little shabby beaver cocked over a large tow-periwig, ride out from the inn of the "Three Books'' on his mission to Hayes's paternal village. It was eighteen miles distant from Worcester; but Mr. Mac- shane performed the distance in safety, and in sobriety moreover (for such had been his instructions), and had no difficulty in dis- covering the house of old Hayes : towards which, indeed, John's horse trotted incontinently. Mrs. Hayes, who was knitting at the house-door, was not a little surprised at the appearance of the well- known grey gelding, and of the stranger mounted upon it. Flinging himself off the steed with much agility, Mr. Macshane, as soon as his feet reached the ground, brought them rapidly together, in order to make a profound and elegant bow to Mrs. Hayes; and slapping his greasy beaver against his heart, and poking his periwig almost into the nose of the old lady, demanded whether he had the "shooprame honour of adthressing Misthriss HeesV Having been answered in the affirmative, he then proceeded to 584 CATHERINE: A STORY ask whether there was a blackguard boy in the house who would take " the horse to the steeble ; " whether " he could have A. dthrink of small-beer or buthermilk, being, faith, uncommon dthry ; " and whether, finally, " he could be feevored with a few minutes' private conversation with her and Mr. Hees, on a matther of consitherable impartance." All these preliminaries were to be complied with before Mr. Macshane would enter at all into the subject of his visit. The horse and man were cared for ; Mr. Hayes was called in ; and not a little anxious did Mrs. Hayes grow, in the meanwhile, with regard to the fate of her darling son. "Where is he? How is he'? Is he deadl" said the old lady. "Oh yes, I'm sure he's dead ! " " Indeed, madam, and you're misteeken intirely : the young man is perfectly well in health." " Oh, praised be Heaven ! " " But mighty cast down in sperrits. To misfortunes, madam, look you, the best of us are subject ; and a trifling one has fell upon your son." And herewith Mr. Macshane produced a letter in the hand- writing of young Hayes, of which we have had the good luck to procure a copy. It ran thus : — "Honored Father and Mother, — The bearer of this is a kind gentleman, who has left mc in a great deal of trouble. Yesterday, at this towne, I fell in with some gentlemen of the queene's servas ; after drinking with whom, I accepted her Majesty's mony to enliste. Repenting thereof, I did endeavour to escape ; and, in so doing, had the misfortune to strike my superior officer, whereby I made myself liable to Death, according to the rules of waiT. If, however, I pay twenty ginnys, all will be wel. You must give the same to the barer, els I shall be shott without fail on Tewsday morning. And so no more from your loving son, "John Hayes. " From my prison at Bristol, this unhappy Monday. " AVhen Mrs. Hayes read this pathetic missive, its success with her was complete, and she was for going immediately to the cup- board, and producing the money necessary for her darling son's release. But the carpenter Hayes was much more suspicious. " I don't know you, sir," said he to the ambassador. " Do you doubt my honour, sir ? " said the Ensign, very fiercely. " Why, sir," replied Mr. Hayes, " I know little about it one A DEMAND FOR RANSOM 585 way or other, but shall take it for granted, if you will explain a little more of this business." "I sildoni condescind to.explean," said Mr. Macshanc, "for it's not the custom in my rank ; but I'll explean anything in reason." " Pray, will you tell me in what regiment my son is enlisted ? " "In coorse. In Colonel Wood's fut, my dear; and a gallant corps it is as any in the army." " And you left him 1 " " On me soul, only three hours ago, having rid like a horse jockey ever since ; as in the sacred cause of humanity, curse me, every man should." As Hayes's house was seventy miles from Bristol, the old gentleman thought this was marvellous quick riding, and so cut the conversation short. " You have said quite enough, sir," said he, "to show me there is some roguery in the matter, and that the whole story is false from beginning to end." At this abrupt charge the Ensign looked somewhat puzzled, and then spoke with much gravity. " Roguery," said he, " Misthur Hees, is a sthrong term ; and which, in consideration of my friend- ship for your family, I shall pass over. You doubt your son's honour, as there wrote by him in black and white ? " "You have forced him to write," said Mr. Hayes. " The sly old diwle's right," muttered Mr. Macshane, aside. "Well, sir, to make a clean breast of it, he has been forced to write it. The story about the enlistment is a pretty fib, if you will, from beginning to end. And what then, my dear 1 Do you think your son's any better off for that 1 " " Oh, where is he 1 " screamed Mrs. Hayes, plumping down on her knees. " We will give him the money, won't we, John 1 " " I know you 'vyill, madam, when I tell you where he is. He is in the hands of some gentlemen of my acquaintance, who are at war with the present government, and no more care about cutting a man's throat than they do a chicken's. He is a prisoner, madam, of our sword and spear. If you choose to ransom him, well and good ; if not, peace be with him ! for never more shall you see him ! " " And how do I know you won't come back to-morrow for more money t " asked Mr. Hayes. " Sir, you have my honour ; and I'd as lieve break my neck as my word," said Mr. Macshane gravely. "Twenty guineas is the bargain. Take ten minutes to talk of it — take it thtm, or leave it ; it's all the same to me, njy dear." And it must be said of our friend the Ensign, that he meant every word he said, and 586 CATHERINE: A STORY tliat he considered the embassy on which he had come as perfectly honourable and regular. "And pray, what prevents us," said Mr. Hayes, starting up in a rage, " from taking hold of you, as a surety for him t " " You wouldn't foe on a flag of truce, would ye, you dishonour- able ould civilian?" replied Mr. Macshane. "Besides," says he, " there's more reasons to prevent you : the first is this," pointing to his sword ; " here are two more " — and these were pistols ; " and the last and the best of all is, that you might hang me and dthraw me and quarther me, and yet never see so much as the tip of your son's nose again. Look you, sir, we run mighty risks in our pro- fession — it's not all play, I can tell you. We're obliged to be punctual, too, or it's all up with the thrade. If I promise that your son will die as sure as fate to-morrow morning, unless I return home safe, our people must keep my promise ; or else what chance is there for me 1 You would be down upon me in a moment with a posse of constables, and have me swinging before Warwick gaol. Pooh, my dear ! you never would sacrifice a darling boy like John Hayes, let alone his lady, for the sake of my long carcass. One or two of our gentlemen have been taken that way already, because parents and guardians would not believe them." " And what became of the 2Mor children .? " said Mrs. Hayes, who began to perceive the gist of the argument, and to grow dread- fully frightened. "Don't let's talk of them, ma'am: humanity shudthers at the thought ! " And herewith Mr. Macshane drew his finger across his throat in such a dreadful way as to make the two parents tremble. " It's the way of war, madam, look you. The service I have the honour to belong to is not paid by the Queen ; and so we're obhged to make our prisoners pay, according to established mOitary practice," No lawyer could have argued his case better than Mr. Macshane so far ; and he completely succeeded in convincing Mr. and Mrs. Hayes of the necessity of ransoming their son. Promising that the young man should be restored to them next morning, along with his beautiful lady, he courteously took leave of the old couple, and made the best of his way back to Worcester again. The elder Hayes wondered who the lady could be of whom the ambassador had spoken, for their son's elopement was altogether unknown to them; but anger or doubt about this subject was overwhelmed by their fears for their darling John's safety. Away rode the gallant Macshane with the money necessary to effect this ; and it must be mentioned, as highly to his credit, that he never once thought of appropriating the sum to himself, or of deserting his comrades in any way. AN OBNOXIOUS GUEST 587 His ride from Worcester had been a long one. He had left that city at noou, but before his return thither the sun had gone down ; and the landscape, which had been dressed like a prodigal, in purple and gold, now appeared like a Quaker, in dusky grey ; and the trees by the roadside grew black as undertakers or physi- cians, and, bending their solemn heads to each other, whispered ominously among themselves ; and the mists hung on the common ; and the cottage lights went out one by one ; and the earth and heaven grew black, but for some twinkling useless stars, which freckled the ebon countenance of the latter ; and the air grew colder ; and about two o'clock the moon appeared, a dismal pale- faced rake, walking solitary through the deserted sky ; and about four, mayhap, tlie Dawn (wretched 'prentice-boy !) opened in the east the shutters of the Day : — in other words, more than a dozen hours had passed. Corporal Brock had been relieved by Mr. Red- cap, the latter by Mr. Sicklop, the one-eyed gentleman ; Mrs. John Hayes, in spite of her sorrows and bashfulness, had followed the example of her husband, and fallen asleep by his side — sle^it for many hours — and awakened still under the guardianship of Mr. Brock's troop ; and all parties began anxiously to expect the return of the ambassador, Mr. Macshane. That officer, who had performed the first part of his journey with such distinguished prudence and success, found the night, on his journey homewards, was growing mighty cold and dark ; and as he was thirsty and hungry, had money in his purse, and saw no cause to hurry, he determined to take refuge at an alehouse for the night, and to make for Worcester by dawn the next morning. He accordingly alighted at the first inn on his road, consigned his horse to the stable, and, entering the kitchen, called for the best liquor in the house. A small company was assembled at the inn, among whom Mr. Macshane took his place with a gi-eat deal of dignity ; ^nd, having a considerable sum of money in his pocket, felt a mighty contempt for his society, and soon let them know the contempt he felt for them. After a third flagon of ale, he discovered that the liquor was sour, and emptied, with much spluttering and grimaces, the remainder of the beer into the fire.. This process so offended the parson of the parish (who in those good old times did not disdain to take the post of honour in the chimney-nook), that he left his comer, looking wrathfully at the offender ; who without any more ado instantly occupied it. It was a fine thing to hear the jingling of the twenty pieces in his pocket, the oaths which he distributed between the landlord, the guests, and the liquor — to remark the sprawl of his mighty jack-boots, before the sweep of which the 588 CATHEEINE: A STORY timid guests edited farther and fartiier away ; and the languishing leers whicli he cast on the landlady, as with widespread, anus he attempted to seize upon lier. When the ostler liad done his duties in the stable, he entered the inn, and whispered the landlord that " the stranger was riding John Hayes's horse : " of which- fact the host soon convinced him- self, and did not fail to have some suspicions of his guest. Had he not thought that times were unquiet, horses might be sold, and one man's money was as good as another's, he probably would have arrested the Ensign immediately, and so lost all the profit of the score which the latter was causing every moment to be enlarged. In a couple of hours, with that happy facility which one may have often remarked in men of the gallant Ensign's nation, he had managed to disgust every one of the landlord's other guests, and scare them from the kitchen. Frightened by his addresses, the landlady too had taken flight ; and the host was the only person left in the apartment ; who there stayed for interest's sake merely, and Jistened moodily to his tipsy guest's conversation. In an hour more, the whole house was awakened by a violent noise of howling, curses, and pots clattering to and fro. Forth issued Mrs. Landlady in her night-gear, out came John Ostler with his pitchfork, down- stairs tumbled Mrs. Oook and one or two guests, and found the landlord and ensign on the kitchen floor — the wig of the latter lying, much singed and emitting strange odours, in the fireplace, his face hideously distorted, and a great quantity of his natural hair in the partial occupation of the landlord ; who had drawn it and the head down towards him, in order that he might have the benefit of pummeUing the latter more at his ease. In revenge, the landlord was undermost, and the Ensign's arms were working up and down his face and body like the flaps of a paddle-wheel : the man of war had clearly the best of it. The combatants were separated as soon as possible; but as soon as the excitement of the fight was over. Ensign Macshane was found to have no further powers of speech, sense, or locomotion, and was carried by his late antagonist to bed. His sword and pistols, which had been placed at his side at the commencement of the evening, were carefully put by, and his pocket visited. Twenty guineas in gold, a large knife— used, probably, for the cutting of bread and cheese — some crumbs of those delicacies and a paper of tobacco found in the breeches-pockets, and in the bosom of tlie sky-blue coat the leg of a cold fowl and half of a raw onion, con- stituted his whole property. These articles were not very supicious ; but the beating which the landlord had received tended gi-eatly to confirm his own and ENSIGN MACSHANE IS ARRESTED 589 his wife's doubts about their guest ; and it was determined to send off in the early morning to Mr. Hayes, informing him how a person had lain at their inn who had ridden thither mounted upon young Hayes's horse. Off set John Ostler at earliest dawn ; but on his way he woke up Mr, Justice's clerk, and communicated his suspicions to him ; and Mr. Clerk consulted with the village baker, who was always up early ; and the clerk, the baker, the butcher with his cleaver, and two gentlemen who were going to work, all adjourned to the inn. Accordingly, when Ensign Macshane was in a truckle-bed, plunged in that deep slumber which only innocence and drunken- ness enjoy in this world, and charming the ears of morn by the regular and melodious music of his nose, a vile plot was laid against him ; and when about seven of the clock he woke, he found, on sitting up in his bed, three gentlemen on each side of it, armed, and looking ominous. One held a constable's staff, and albeit unpro- vided with a warrant, would take upon himself the responsibility of seizing Mr. Macshane, and of carrying him before his worship at the hall. " Taranouns, man ! " said the Ensign, springing up in bed, and abruptly tecaking off a loud sonorous yawn, with which he had opened the business of the day, " you won't deteen a gentleman who's on life and death ? I give ye my word, an affair of honour." " How came you by that there horse 1 " said the baker. " How came you by these here fifteen guineas ? " said the land- lord, in whose hands, by some process, five of the gold pieces had disappeared. " What is this here idolatrous string of beads 1 " said the clerk. Mr. Macshane, the fact is, was a Catholic, but did not care to own it : for in those days his religion was not popular. " Baids ? Holy Mother of saints ! give me back them baids," said Mr. Macshane, clasping his hands. " They were blest, I tell you, by his holiness the po psha ! I mane they belong to a darling little daughter I had that's in heaven now : and as for the money and the horse, I should like to know how a gentleman is to travel in this counthry without them." "Why, you see, he may travel in the country to git 'em," here shrewdly remarked the constable ; " and it's our behef that neither horse nor money is honestly come by. If his worship is satisfied, why so, in course, shall we be ; but there is highwaymen abroad, look you ; and, to our notion, you have very much the cut of one." Further remonstrances or threats on the part of Mr. Macshane were useless. Although he vowed that he was first-cousin to the Duke of Leinster, an officer in her Majesty's service, and the 590 CATHEEINE: A STORY dearest friend Lord Marlborough had, his impudent captors would not believe a word of his statement (which, further, was garnished with a tremendous number of oaths) ; and he was, about eight o'clock, carried up to the house of Squire Ballance, the neighbouring justice of the peace. When the worthy magistrate asked the crime of which the prisoner had been guilty, the captors looked somewhat puzzled for the moment ; since, in truth, it could not be shown that the Ensign had committed any crime at all ; and if he had confined himself to simple silence, and thrown upon them the onus of proving his misdemeanours. Justice Ballance must have let him loose, and soundly rated his clerk and the landlord for detaining an honest gentleman on so frivolous a charge. But this caution was not in the Ensign's disposition; and though his accusers produced no satisfactory charge against him, his own words were quite enough to show how suspicious his character was. When asked his name, he gave it in as Captain Geraldine, on his way to Ireland, by Bristol, on a visit to his cousin the Duke of Leinster. He swore solemnly that his friends, the Duke of Marlborough and Lord Peterborough, under both of whom he had served, should hear of the manner in which he had been treated ; and when the justice, — a sly old gentleman, and one that read the Gazettes, — asked him at what battles he had been present, the gallant Ensign pitched on a couple in Spain and in Flanders, which had been fought within a week of each other, and vowed that he had been desperately wounded at both ; so that, at the end of his examination, which had been taken down by the clerk, he had been made to acknowledge as follows : — Captain Geraldine, six feet four inches in height ; thin, with a very long red nose, and red hair ; grey eyes, and speaks with a strong Irish accent ; is the first-cousin of the Duke of Leinster, and in constant communication with him : does not know whether his Grace has any children ; does not know whereabouts he lives in London ; cannot say what sort of a looking man his Grace is : is acquainted with the Duke of Marlborough, and served in the dragoons at the battle of Eamillies ; at which time he was with my Lord Peterborough before Barcelona. Borrowed the horse which he rides from a friend in London, three weeks since. Peter Hobbs, ostler, swears that it was in his master's stable four days ago, and is the property of John Hayes, carpenter. Cannot account for the fifteen guineas found on him by the landlord ; says there were twenty ; says he won them at cards, a fortnight since, at Edinburgh ; says he is riding about the country for his amusement : afterwards says he is on a matter of life and death, and going to Bristol ; declared last night, in the hearing of THE ENSIGN'S EXAMINATION 5gi several witnesses, that he was going to York ; says he is a man of independent property, and has large estates in Ireland, and a hundred thousand pounds in the Bank of England. Has no shirt or stockings, and the coat he wears is marked " S.S." In his boots is written " Thomas Bodgers," and in his hat is the name of the " Rev. Doctor Snoffler." Doctor Snoffler lived at Worcester, and had lately advertised in the Hue and Cry a number of articles taken from his house. Mr. Macshane said, in reply to this, that his hat had been changed at the inn, and he was ready to take his oath that he came thither in a gold-laced one. But this faot was disproved by the oaths of many persons who had seen him at the inn. And he was about to be imprisoned for the thefts which he had not committed (the fact about the hat being, that he had purchased it from a gentleman at the " Three Rooks " for two pints of beer) — he was about to be remanded, when, behold, Mrs. Hayes the elder made her appear- ance ; and to her it was that the Ensign was indebted for his freedom. Old Hayes had gone to work before the ostler arrived ; but when his wife heard the lad's message, she instantly caused her pillion to be placed behind the saddle, and mounting the grey horse, urged the stable-boy to gallop as hard as ever he could to the justice's house. She entered panting and alarmed. " Oh, what is your "honour going to do to this honest gentleman 1 " said she. " In the name of Heaven, let him go ! His time is precious — he has important business — business of life and death." "I tould the jidge so," said the Ensign, "but he refused to take my word — the sacred wurrd of honour of Captain Geraldine." Macshane was good at a single lie, though easily flustered on an examination ; and this was a very creditable stratagem to acquaint Mrs. Hayes with the name that he bore. "What! you know Captain Geraldine?" said Mr. Ballance, who was perfectly well acquainted with the carpenter's wife. " In coorse she does. Hasn't she known me these tin years ? Are we not related? Didn't she give me the very horse which I rode, and, to make belave, tould you I'd bought in London t " " Let her tell her own story. Are you related to Captain Geraldine, Mrs. Hayes 1 " " Yes— oh yes ! " " A very elegant connection ! And you gave him the horse, did you, of your own free will ? " " Oh yes ! of my own will — I would give him anything. Do, do, your honour, let him go ! His child is dying," said the old 592 CATHERINE: A STORY lady, bursting into tears. " It may be dead before he gets to — before he gets there. Oh, your honour, your honour, pray, pray, don't detain him ! " The justice did not seem to understand this excessive sympathy on the part of Mrs. Hayes ; nor did the father himself appear to be nearly so aifected by his child's probable fate as the honest woman who interested herself for him. On the contrary, when she made this passionate speech, Captain Geraldine only grinned, and said, " Niver mind, my dear. If his honour will keep an honest gentleman for doing nothing, why, let him — the law must settle between us; and as for the child, poor thing, the Lord deliver it ! " At this, Mrs. Hayes fell to entreating more loudly than ever ; and as there was really no charge against him, Mr. Ballance was constrained to let him go. The landlord and his friends were making off, rather confused, when Ensign Macshane called upon the former in a thundering voice to stop, and refimd the five guineas which he had stolen from him. Again the host swore there were but fifteen in his pocket. But when, on the Bible, the Ensign solemnly vowed that he had twenty, and called upon Mrs. Hayes to say whether yesterday, half-an-hour before he entered the inn, she had not seen him with twenty guineas, and that lady expressed herself ready to swear that shS had, Mr. Landlord looked more crestfallen than ever, and said that he had not counted the money when he took it ; and though he did in his soul believe that there were only fifteen guineas, rather than be suspected of a shabby action, he would pay the five guineas out of his own pocket : which he did, and with the Ensign's, or rather Mrs. Hayes's, own coin. As soon as they were out of the justice's house, Mr. Macshane, in the fidness of his gratitude, could not help bestowing an embrace upon Mrs. Hayes. And when she implored him to let her ride behind him to her darling son, he yielded with a very good grace, and off the pair set on John Hayes's grey. " Who has Nosey brought with him now 1 " said Mr. Sicklop, Brock's one-eyed confederate, who, about three hours after the above adventure, was lolhng in the yard of the " Three Rooks." It was our Ensign, with the mother of his captive. They had not met with any accident in their ride. "I shall now have the shooprame bliss," said Mr. Macshane, with much feeling, as he lifted Mrs. Hayes from the saddle — " the shooprame bliss of intwining two harrts that are mead for one another. Ours, my dear, is a dismal profession ; but ah ! don't MEETING BETWEEN MOTHER AND SON 5,93 moments like this make aminds for years of paiu 1 This way, my dear. Turn to your right, then to your left — mind the stip — and the third door round the corner." All these precautions were attended to ; and after giving his concerted knock, Mr. Macshane was admitted into an apartment, which he entered holding his gold pieces in the one hand, and a lady by the other. AVe shall not describe the meeting which took place between mother and son. The old lady wept copiously ; the young man was really glad to see his relative, for he deemed that his troubles were over. Mra. Cat bit her lips, and stood aside, looking some- what foolish ; Mr. Brock counted the money ; and Mr. Macshane took a large dose of strong waters, as a pleasing solace for his labours, dangers, and fatigue. When the maternal feelings were somewhat calmed, the old lady had leisiu-e to look about her, and really felt a kind of friend- ship and goodwill for the company of thieves in which she found herself It seemed to her that they liad conferred an actual favour on her, in robbing her of twenty guineas, threatening her son's life, and finally letting him go. " Who is that droll old gentleman 1 " said she ; and being told that it was Captain Wood, she dropped him a curtsey, and said, with much respect, "Captain, your very humble servant;" which compliment Mr. Brock acknowledged by a gracious smile and bow. "And who is this pretty young lady?" continued Mrs. Hayes. "Why — hum — oh — mother, you must give her yova blessing. She is Mrs. John Hayes." And herewith Mr. Hayes brought forward his interesting lady, to introduce her to his mamma. The news did not at all please the old lady, who received Mrs. Catherine's embrace with a very sour face indeed. However, the mischief was done ; and she was too glad to get back her son to be, on such an occasion, very angry with him. So, after a proper rebuke, she told Mrs. John Hayes that though she never approved of her son's attachment, and thought he married below his condition, yet as the evil was done, it was their duty to make the best of it ; and she, for her part, would receive her into her house, and make her as comfortable there as she could. " I wonder whether she has any more money in that house t " whispered Mr. Sicklop to Mr. Redcap ; who, with the landlady, had come to the door of the room, and had been amusing themselves by the contemplation of this sentimental scene. "What a fool that wild Hirishman was not to bleed her for more ! " said the landlady ; " but he's a poor ignorant Papist. I'm 594 CATHERINE: A STORY sure my man " (this gentleman had been hanged) " wouldn't have come away with such a beggarly sum." " Suppose we have some more out of 'em 1 " said Mr. Redcap. " What prevents us 1 We have got the old mare, and the colt too, — ha ! ha ! — and the pair of 'em ought to be worth at least a hun- dred to us." This conversation was carried on sotto voce ; and I don't know whether Mr. Brock had any notion of the plot which was arranged by the three worthies. The landlady began it. "Which punch, madam, will you take ? " says she. " You must have something for the good of the house, now you are in it." " In coorse," said the Ensign. " Certainly," said the other three. But the old lady said she was anxious to leave the place; and putting down a crown-piece, requested the hostess to treat the gentlemen in her absence. " Good- bye, Captain," said the old lady. " Ajew ! " cried the Ensign, " and long life to you, my dear. You got me out of a scrape at the justice's yonder ; and, split me ! but Insign Macshane will remimber it as long as he lives." And now Hayes and the two ladies made for the door ; but the landlady placed herself against it, and Mr. Sicklop said, " No, no, my pretty madams, you ain't a-going off so cheap as that neither ; you are not going out for a beggarly twenty guineas, look you, — we must have more." Mr. Hayes starting back, and cursing his fate, fairly burst into tears ; the two women screamed ; and Mr. Brock looked as if the proposition both amused and had been expected by him ; but not so Ensign Macshane. " Major ! " said he, clawing fiercely hold of Brock's arms. " Ensign,'' said Mr. Brook, smiling. " Arr we, or arr we not, men of honour ? " " Oh, in coorse," said Brock, laughing, and using Macshane's favourite expression. " If we arr men of honour, we are bound to stick to our word ; and, hark ye, you dirty one-eyed scoundrel, if you don't iramadiately make way for these leedies, and this lily-livered young jontleman who's crying so, the Meejor here and I will lug out and force you." And so saying, he drew his great sword and made a pass at Mr. Sicklop ; which that gentleman avoided, and which caused him and his companion to retreat from the door. The landlady still kept her position at it, and with a storm of oaths against the Ensign, and against two Englishmen who ran away from a wild Hirisbman, swore she would not budge a foot, and would stand there until her dying day. THE ENSIGN'S GALLANTRY 595 "Faith, then, needs must,'' said the Ensign, and made a lunge at the hostess, which passed so near the wretch's throat, that she screamed, sank on her Itnees, and at last opened the door. Down the stairs, then, with great state, Mr. Macshane led the elder lady, the married couple "following ; and having seen them to the street, took an affectionate farewell of the part}', whom he vowed that he would come and see. " You can walk the eighteen miles aisy, between this and nightfall," said he. ■ " Walk ! " exclaimed Mr. Hayes. " Why, haven't we got Ball, and shall ride and tie all the way 1 " "Madam!" cried Macshane, in a stern voice, "honour before everything. Did you not, in the presence of his worship, vow and declare that you gave me that horse, and now d'ye talk of taking it back again ? Let me tell you, madam, that such paltry thricks ill become a person of your years and respectability, and ought never to be played with Insign Timothy Macshane." He waved his hat and strutted down the street ; and Mrs. Catherine Hayes, along with her bridegroom and mother-in-law, made the best of their way homeward on foot. CHAPTER VII tf^HICH EMBRACES A PERIOD OF SEVEN YEARS THE recovery of so considerable a portion of his property from the clutches of Brock was, as may be imagined, no trifling source of joy to that excellent young man, Count Gustavus Adolphiis de Galgenstein ; and he was often known to say, with nmch archness, and a proper feeling of gratitude to tlie Fate which had ordained things so, that the robbery was, in reality, one of the best things tliat could have happened to him : for, in event of Mr. Brock's not stealing the money, his Excellency the Count would have had to pay the whole to the Warwickshire Squire, who had won it from him at play. He was enabled, in the present instance, to plead his notorious poverty as an excuse ; and the Warwickshire conqueror got off with nothing, except a very badly written autograph of the Count's, simply acknowledging the debt. This point his Excellency conceded with the greatest candour ; but (as, doubtless, the reader may have remarked in the course of his experience) to owe is not quite the same thing as to pay ; and from the day of his winning the money until the day of his death the AVarwiokshire Squire did never, by any chance, touch a single bob, tizzy, tester, moidore, maravedi, doubloon, tomaun, or rupee, of the sum which Monsieur de Galgenstein had lost to him. That young nobleman was, as Mr. Brook hinted in the little autobiographical sketch which we gave in a former chapter, incar- cerated for a certain period, and for certain other debts, in the donjons of Shrewsbury ; but he released himself from them by that noble and consolatory method of whitewashing which tlie law has provided for gentlemen in his oppressed condition ; and he had not been a week in London, when he feU in with, and overcame, or put to flight, Captain Wood, alias Brock, and immediately seized upon the remainder of his property. After receiving this, the Count, with commendable discretion, disappeared from England altogether for a while ; ,nor are we at all authorised to state that. any of his debts to his tradesmen were discharged, any more than his debts of honour, as they are i)leiisantly called. Having thus settled with his creditors, the gallant Count had/ THE COUNT MAERIES A DUTCH WIDOW 597 interest enough with some of the great folk to procure for himself a post abroad, and was absent in Holland for some time. It was here that he became acquainted with the lovely Madam Silverkoop, the widow of a deceased gentleman of Leyden ; and although the lady M-as not at that age at which tender passions are usually inspired — being sixty — and though she could not, like Mademoiselle Ninon de I'Enclos, then at Paris, boast of charms which defied the progress of time,— for Mrs. Silverkoop was as red as a boiled lobster, and as unwieldy as a porpoise ; and although her mental attractions did by no means make up for her personal deficiencies — for she was jealous, violent, vulgar, drunken, and stingy to a miracle : yet her charms had an immediate effect on Monsieur de Galgenstein ; and hence, perhaps, the reader (the rogue ! how well he knows the world !) will be led to conclude that the honest widow was rich. Sucli, indeed, she was; and Count Gustavus, despising the difference between his tM'enty quarterings and her twenty thousand pounds, laid the most desperate siege to her, and finished by causing her to capitulate ; as I do believe, after a reasonable deg]-ee of press- ing, any woman will do to any man : such, at least, has been my experience in the matter. The Count then married ; and it was ciu-ious to see how he — who, as we have seen in the case of Mrs. Cat, had been as great a tiger and domestic bully as any extant — now, by degrees, fell into a quiet submission towards his enormous Countess ; who ordered him up and down as a lady orders her footman, who permitted him speedily not to have a will of his own, and who did not allow him a shilling of her money without receiving for the same an accurate account. How was it that he, the abject slave of Madam Silverkoop, had been victorious over Mrs. Cat? The first blow is, I believe, the decisive one in these cases, and the Countess had stricken it a week after their marriage; — establishing a supremacy which the Count never afterwards attempted to question. We have alluded to his Excellency's marriage, as in duty bound, because it will be necessary to account for his appearance hereafter in a more splendid fashion than that under which he has hitherto been known to us ; and just comforting the reader by the knowledge that the union, though prosperous in a worldly point of view, was, in reality, extremely unhappy, we must say no more from this time forth of the fat and legitimate Madam de Galgenstein. Our darling is Mrs. Catherine, who had formerly acted in her stead ; and only in so much as the fat Countess did influence in any way the destinies of our heroine, or those wise and virtuous persons who have appeared and are to follow her to her end, shall we in any degree allow her name to figure here. It is an awful thing to get a glimpse, as one 598 CATHEEINE: A STORl sometimes does, when the time is past, of some little little wheel which works the whole mighty machinery of Fate, and see how our destinies turn on a minute's delay or advance, or on the turning of a street, or on somebody else's turning of a street, or on somebody else's doing of something else in Downing Street or in Timbuctoo, now or a thousand years ago. Thus, for instance, if Miss Foots, in the year 1695, had never been the lovely inmate of a Spielhaus at Amsterdam, Mr. Van Silverkoop would never have seen her ; if the day had not been extraordinarily hot, the worthy merchant would never have gone thither ; if he had not been fond of Rhenish wine and sugar, he never would have called for any such delicacies ; if he had not called for thera. Miss Ottilia Foots would never have brought them, and partaken of them ; if he had not been rich, she would certainly have rejected all the advances made to her by Silver- koop ; if he had not been so fond of Rhenish and sugar, he never would have died ; and Mrs. Silverkoop would have been neither rich nor a widow, nor a wife to Count von Galgenstein. Nay, nor would this history have ever been written ; for if Count Galgenstein had not married the rich widow, Mrs. Catherine would never have Oh, my dear madam ! you thought we were going to tell you. Pooh ! nonsense ! — no such thing ! not for two or three and seventy pages or so, — when, perhaps, you inay know what Mrs. Catherine never would have done. The reader will remember, in the second chapter of these Memoirs, the announcement that Mrs. 'Catherine had given to the world a child, who might bear, if he chose, the arms of Galgenstein, with the further adornment of a bar-sinister. This child had been put out to nurse some time before its mother's elopement from the Count ; and as that nobleman was in funds at the time (having had that success at play which we duly chronicled), he paid a sum of no less than twenty guineas, which was to be the yearly reward of the nurse into whose charge the boy was put. The woman grew fond of the brat ; and when, after the first year, she had no further news or remittances from father or mother, she determined, for a while at least, to maintain the infant at her own expense ; for, when rebuked by her neighbours on this score, she stoutly swore that no parents could ever desert their children, and that some day or other she should not fail to be rewarded for her trouble with this one. Under this strange mental hallucination poor Goody BiUings, who had five children and a husband of her own, continued to give food and shelter to little Tom for a period of no less than seven years ; and though it must be acknowledged that the young gentle- man did not in the slightest degree merit the kindnesses shown to him, Goody Billings, who ^^•as of a very soft and pitiful disposition, MASTEE THOMAS BILLINGS 599 continued to bestow them upon him ; because, she said, he was lonely and unprotected, and deserved them more than other children who had fathers and mothers to look after them. If, then, any differ- ence was made between Tom's treatment and that of her own brood, it was considerably in favour of the former ; to whom the largest proportions of treacle were allotted for his bread, and the handsomest supplies of hasty pudding. Besides, to do Mrs. Billings justice, there was a party against him ; and that consisted not only of her husband and her five children, but of every single person in the neighbourhood who had an opportunity of seeing and becoming acquainted with Master Tom. A celebrated philosopher — I think Miss Edgeworth — has broached the consolatory doctrine, that in intellect and disposition all human beings are entirely equal, and that circumstance and educa- tion are the causes of the distinctions a,nd divisions which afterwards unhappily take place among them. Not to argue this question, which places Jack Howard and Jack Thurtell on an exact level, — which would have us to believe that Lord Melbourne is by natural gifts and excellences a man as honest, brave, and far-sighted as the Duke of Wellington, — which would make out that Lord Lyndlmrst is, in point of principle, eloquence, and political honesty, no better than Mr. O'Oonnell, — not, I say, arguing this doctrine, let us simply state that Master Thomas Billings (for, having no other, he took the name of the worthy people who adopted him) was in his long-coats fearfully passionate, screaming and roaring perpetually, and showing all the ill that he cotdd show. At the age of two, when his strength enabled him to toddle abroad, his favourite resort was the coal-hole or the dungheap : his roarings had not diminished in the least, and he had added to his former virtues two new ones,— ^a love of fighting and stealing ; both which amiable qualities he had many opportunities of exercising every day. He fought his little adoptive brothers and sisters ; he kicked and cuffed his father and mother ; he fought the cat, stamped upon the kittens, was worsted in a severe battle with the hen in the backyard ; but, in revenge, nearly beat a little sucking- pig to death, whom he caught alone and rambling near his favourite haimt, the dunghill. As for stealing, he stole the eggs, which he perforated and emptied ; the butter, which he ate with of without bread, as he could find it ; the sugar, which he cunningly secreted in the leaves of a " Baker's Chronicle," that nobody in the establish- ment could read ; and thus from the pages of history he used to suck in all he knew — thieving and lying namely ; in which, for his years, he made wonderful progress. If any followers of Miss Edgeworth and the philosophers are inclined to disbelieve this statement, or to set it down as overcharged and distorted, let them be assured that 600 CATHERINE: A STORY just this very picture was, of all the pictures in the world, taken from nature. I, Ikey Solomons, once had a dear little brother who could steal before he could walk (and this not from encouragement, for, if you know the world, you must know that in families of our profession the point of honour is sacred at home, — but from pure nature) — who could steal, I say, before he could walk, and lie before he could speak ; and who, at four and a half years of age, having attacked my sister Rebecca on some question of lollipops, had smitten her on the elbow with a fire-shovel, apologising to us by saying simply, " her, I wish it had been her head ! " Dear, dear Aminadab ! I think of you, and laugh these philosophers to scorn. Nature made you for that career which you fulfilled : you were from your birth to your dying a scoundrel ; you couldn't have been any- thing else, however your lot was cast ; and blessed it was that you were born among the prigs, — for had you been of any other profes- sion, alas ! alas ! what ills might you have done ! As I have heard the author of " Richelieu," " Siamese Twins," &c., say, " Poeta nascitur, non fit," which means that though he had tried ever so much to be a poet, it was all moonshine : in the like manner, I say, " Roagus nascitur, non fit." We have it from nature, and so a fig for Miss Edgeworth. In this manner, then, while his father, blessed with a wealthy wife, was leading, in a fine house, the life of a galley-slave ; while his mother, married to Mr. Hayes, and made an honest woman of, as the saying is, was passing her time respectably in Warwickshire, Mr. Thomas Billings was inhabiting the same county, not cared for by either of them ; but ordained by Fate to join them one day, and have a mighty influence upon the fortunes of both. For, as it has often happened to the, traveller in the York or the Exeter coach to fall snugly asleep in his corner, and on awaking suddenly to find himself sixty or seventy miles from the place where Somnus first visited him : as, we say, although you sit still. Time, poor wretch, keeps perpetually running on, and so must run day and night, with never a pause or a halt of five minutes to get a drink, until his dying day ; let the reader imagine that since he left Mrs. Hayes and all the other worthy personages of this history, in the last chapter, seven years have sped away ; during which, all our heroes and heroines have been accomplishing their destinies. Seven years of country carpentering, or rather trading, on the part of a husband, of ceaseless scolding, violence, and discontent on the part of a wife, are not pleasant to describe : so we shall omit altogether any account of the earlier married life of Mr. and Mrs. John Hayes. The " Newgate Calendar " (to which excellent com- pilation we and the other popular novelists of the day can never WHAT HAPPENED IN SEVEN YEAES 601 be sufiBciently grateful) states that Hayes left his house three or four times during this period, and, lu-ged by the restless humours of his wife, tried several professions : returning, however, as he grew weary of each, to his wife and his paternal home. After a certain time his parents died, and by their demise he succeeded to a small property, and the carpentering business, which he for some time followed. What, then, in the meanwhile, had become of Captain Wood, or Brock, and Ensign Macshanel — the only persons now to be accounted for in our catalogue. For about six months after their capture and release of Mr. Hayes, those noble gentlemen had followed, with much prudence and success, that trade which the celebrated and polite Duval, the ingenious Sheppard, the dauntless Turpin, and indeed many other heroes of our most popular novels, had pursued, or were pursuing, in their time. And so considerable were said to be Captain Wood's gains, that reports were abroad of his having somewhere a buried treasure ; to which he might have added more, had not Fate suddenly cut short his career as a prig. He and the Ensign were — shame to say — transported for stealing three pewter-pots off a railing at Exeter ; and not being known in the town, which they had only reached that morning, they were detained hy no further charges, but sunply condemned on this one. For this misdemeanour. Her Majesty's Government vindictively sent them for seven years beyond the sea; and, as the fashion then was, sold the use of their bodies to Virginian planters during that space of time. It is thus, alas ! that the strong aie always used to deal with the weak, and many an honest fellow has been led to rue his unfortunate diiference with the law. Thus, then, we have settled all scores. The Count is in Holland with his wife; Mrs. Cat in Warwickshire along with Jier excellent hus- band ; Master Thomas Billings with his adoptive parents in the same county ; and the two military gentlemen watching the progress and cultivation of the tobacco and cotton plant in the New World. All these things having passed between the acts, dingaring-a-dingaring a- dingle-dingle-ding, the drop draws up, and the next act begins. By the way, the play ends with a drop : but that is neither here nor there. [Here, as in a theatre, the orchestra is supposed to play some- thing melodious. The people get up, shake themselves, yawn, and settle down in their seats again. " Porter, ale, ginger-beer, cider," comes round, squeezing through the legs of the gentlemen in the pit. Nobody takes anything, as usual ; and lo ! the curtain rises again. "'Sh, 'shsh, 'shshshhh ! Hats off ! " says everybody.] 602 CATHERINE: A STOEY Mrs. Hayes had now been for six years the adored wife of Mr. Hayes, and no offspring had arisen to bless their loves and per- petuate their name. She had obtained a complete mastery over her lord and master ; and having had, as far as was in that gentleman's power, every single wish gratified that she could demand, in the way of dress, treats to Coventry and Birmingham, drink, and what not — for, thqugh a hard man, John Hayes had learned to spend his money pretty freely on himself and her — having had all her wishes gratified, it was natural that she should begin to find out some more ; and the next whim she hit upon was to be restored to her child. It may be as well to state that slie had never informed her husband of the existence of that phenomenon, although he was aware of his wife's former connection with the Count, — Mrs. Hayes, in their matrimonial quarrels, invariably taunting him with accounts of her former splendour and happiness, and with his own meanness of taste in condescending to take up with his Excellency's leavings. She determined then (but as yet had not confided her deter- mination to her husband), she would have her boy ; although in her seven years' residence within twenty miles of him she had never once thought of seeing him : and the kind reader knows that when his excellent lady determines on a thing — a shawl, or an opera-box, or a new carriage, or twenty-four singing-lessons from Tamburini, or a night at the " Eagle Tavern," City Road, or a ride in a 'bus to Richmond, and tea and brandy-and-water at " Rose Cottage Hotel " — the reader, high or low, knows that when Mrs. Reader desires a thing, have it she will ; you may just as well talk of avoiding her as of avoiding gout, bills, or grey hairs — and that, you know, is im- possible. I, for my part, have had all three — ay, and a wife too. I say that when a woman is resolved on a thing, happen it will ; if husbands refuse. Fate will interfere {flectere si nequeo, &c. ; but quotations are odious). And some hidden power was working in the case of Mrs. Hayes, and, for its own awful purposes, lending her its aid. Who has not felt how he works — the dreadful conquering Spirit of 111 ? Who cannot see, in the circle of his own society, the fated and foredoomed to woe and eviU Some call the doctrine of destiny a dark creed ; but, for me, I would fain try and think it a conso- latory one. It is better, with all one's sins upon one's head, to deem one's self in the hands of Fate, than to think— with our fierce passions and weak repentances ; with our resolves so loud, so vain, so ludicrously, despicably weak and frail ; with our dim, wavering' wretched conceits about virtue, and our irresistible propensity to wrong, — that we are the workers of our future soitow or happiness. If we depend on our strength, what is it against mighty circum- TWO OLD ACQUAINTANCES 60S stance ? If we look to ourselves, wJiat hope have we 1 Look back at the whole of your life, and see how faith has mastered you and it. Think of yom- disappointments and your successes. Has your striving influenced one or the other t A fit of indigestion puts itself between you and honours and reputation ; an apple plops on your nose, and makes you a world's wonder and glory ; a fit of poverty makes a rascal of you, who were, and are still, an honest man ; clubs, trumps, or six lucky mains at dice, make an honest man for life of you, who ever were, will be, and are a rascal. Who sends the illness 1 who causes the apple to fall 1 who deprives you of your worldly goods 1 or who shuffles, the cards, and brings trumps, honour, virtue, and prosperity back again ? You call it chance ; ay, and so it is chance that when the floor gives way, and the rope stretches tight, the poor wretch before St. Sepulchre's clock dies. Only with us, clear-sighted mortals as we are, we can't see the rope by which we hang, and know not when or how the drop may fall. But revenons a nos moutons : let us return to that sweet lamb Master Thomas, and the milk-white ewe Mrs. Cat. Seven years had passed away, and she began to think that she should very much like to see her child once more. It was written that she should; and you shall hear how, soon after, without any great exertions of hers, back he came to her. In the month of July, in the year 1715, there came down a road about ten mUes from the city of Worcester, two gentlemen ; not mounted. Templar-like, upon one horse, but having a horse between them — a sorry bay, with a sorry saddle, and a large pack behind it ; on which each by turn took a ride. Of the two, one was a man of excessive stature, with red hair, a very prominent nose, and a faded military dress ; while the other, an old weather- beaten, sober-looking personage, wore the costume of a civilian — both man and dress appearing to have reached the autumnal, or seedy state. However, the pair seemed, in spite of their apparent poverty, to be passably merry. The old gentleman rode the horse ; and had, in the course of their journey, ridden him two miles at least in every three. The tall one walked with immense strides by his side ; and seemed, indeed, as if he could have quickly out- stripped the four-footed animal, had he chosen to exert his speed, or had not affection for his comrade retained him at his stirrup. A short time previously the horse had cast a shoe ; and this the tall man on foot had gathered up, and was holding in his hand : it having been voted that the first blacksmith to whose shop they should come should be called upon to fit it again upon the bay horse. 604 CATHERINE: A STORY "Do you rcmimber this counthry, Meejorl " said the tall man, who was looking about him very much pleased, and sucking a flower. " I think thim green cornfields is prettier looking at than the d tobacky out yondther, and bad luck to it ! " "I recollect the place right well, and some queer pranks we played here seven years agone," responded the gentleman addressed as Major. - " You remember that man and his wife, whom we took in pawn at the ' Three Rooks ' 1 " " And the landlady only hung last Michaelmas 1 " said the tall man parenthetically. " Hang the landlady !— we've got all we ever would out of her, you know. But about the man and woman. You went after the chap's mother, and, like a jackass, as you are, let him loose. Well, the woman was that Catherine that you've often heard me talk about. I like the wench, ■ her, for I almost brought her up ; and she was for a year or two along with that scoundrel Galgenstein, who has been the cause of my ruin." " The informal blackguard and ruffian ! " said the tall man ; who, with his companion, has no doubt been recognised by the reader. " Well, this Catherine had a child by Galgenstein ] and some- where here hard by the woman lived to whom we carried the brat to nurse. She was the wife of a blacksmith, one Billings : it won't be out of the way to get our horse shod at his house, if he is alive still, and we may learn something about the little beast. I should be glad to see the mother well enough." " Do I remimber her 1 " said the Ensign. " Do I remimber whisky 1 Sure I do, and the snivelling sneak her husband, and the stout old lady her mother-in-law, and the dirty one-eyed ruffian who sold me the parson's hat that had so nearly brought me into trouble. Oh but it was a rare rise we got out of them chaps, and the old landlady that's hanged too ! " And here both Ensign Macshane and Major Brock, or Wood, grinned, and showed much satisfaction. It will be necessary to explain the reason of it. We gave the British pubho to understand that the landlady of the " Three Rooks," at Worcester, was a notoiious fence, or banker of thieves ; that is, a purchaser of their merchandise. In her hands Mr. Brock and his companion had left property to the amount of sixty or seventy pounds, which was secreted in a cunning recess in a chamber of the " Three Rooks " known only to the landlady and the gentlemen who banked with her ; and in this place, Mr. Sicklop, the one-eyed man who had joined in the Hayes adventure, his comrade, and one or two of the topping prigs of the county, were free. Mr. Sicklop had been shot dead in a night attack near Bath ; the landlady had A VERY PRECOCIOUS URCHIN 605 been suddenly hanged, as an accomplice in another case of robbery ; and when, on their return from Virginia, our two heroes, whose hopes of livelihood depended upon it, had bent their steps towards Worcester, they were not a little frightened to hear of the cruel fate of the hostess and many of the amiable frequenters of the '" Three Rooks." All the goodly company were separated ; the house was no longer an inn. Was the money gone too? At least it was worth while to look — which Messrs. Brock and Macshane determined to do. The house being now a private one, Mr. Brock, with a genius that was above his statioji, visited its owner, with a huge portfolio under his arm, and, in the character of a painter, requested per- mission to take a particular sketch from a particular window. The Ensign followed with the artist's materials (consisting simply of a screwdriver and a crowbar) ; and it is hardly necessary to say that, when admission was granted to them, they opened the well-known door, and to their inexpressible satisfaction discovered, not their own peculiar savings exactly, for these had been appropriated instantly on hearing of their transportation, but stores of money and goods to the amount of near three hundred pounds : to which Mr. Macshane said they had as just and honourable a right as anybody else. And so they had as just a right as anybody — except the original owners : but who was to discover them ? With this booty they set out on their journey — anywhere, for they knew not whither ; and it so chanced that when their horse's shoe came off, they were within a few furlongs of tlie cottage of Mr. Billings, the blacksmith. As they came near, they were saluted by tremendous roars issuing from the smithy. A small boy was held across the bellows, two or three children of smaller and larger growth were holding him down, and many others of the village were gazing in at the window, while a man, half-naked, was lashing the little boy with a whip, and occasioning the cries heard by the travellers. As the horse drew up, the operator looked at the new-comers for a moment, and then proceeded in- continently with his work ; belabouring the child more fiercely than ever. A¥hen he had done, he turned round to the new-comers and asked how he could serve them 1 whereupon Mr. Wood (for such was the name he adopted, and by such we shall call him to the end) wittily remarked that however he might wish to serve them, he seemed mightily inclined to sei-ve that young gentleman first. " It's no joking matter," said tlie blacksmith : " if I don't serve him so now, he'll be worse off' in his old age. He'll come to the gaUows, as sure as his name is Bill — never mind what his name 606 CATHERINE: A STORY is." And so saying, he gave the urchin another cut; which elicited, of course, another scream. " Oh ! his name is BilH" said Captain Wood. " His name's not Bill ! " said the blacksmith sulkily. " He's no name ; and no heart, neither. My wife took the brat in, seven years ago, from a beggarly French chap to nurse, and she kept him, for she was a good soul " (here his eyes began to wink), " and she's — she's gone now" (here he began fairly to blubber). "And d him, out of love for her, I kept him too, and the scoundrel is a liar and a thief. This blessed day, merely to vex me and my boys here, he spoke ill of her, he did, and I'll — cut — his • life — out — I — will ! " and with each word honest Mulciber applied a whack on the body of little Tom Billings ; who, by shrill shrieks, and oaths in treble, acknowledged the receipt of the blows. " Come, come," said Mr. Wood, " sot the boy down, and the bellows a-going ; my horse wants shoeing, and the poor lad has had strapping enough." The blacksmith obeyed, and cast poor Master Thomas loose. As he staggered away and looked back at his tormentor, his countenance assumed an expression which made Mr. Wood say, grasping hold of Macshane's arm, " It's the boy, it's the boy ! When his mother gave Galgenstein the laudanum, she had the self-same look with her ! " "Had she really nowl" said Mr. Macshane. "And pree, Meejor, who was his mother 1 " " Mrs. Cat, you fool ! " answered Wood. " Then, upon my secred word of honour, she has a mighty fine kitten anyhow, my dear. Aha ! " " They don't drown such kittens," said Mr. Wood archly ; and Macshane, taking the allusion, clapped his finger to his nose in token of perfect approbation of his commander's sentiment. While the blacksmith was shoeing the horse, Jlr. Wood asked him. many questions concerning the lad whom he had just been chastising, and succeeded, beyond a doubt, in establishing his identity with the child whom Catherine Hall had brought mto the world sevfen years since. Billings told him of all the virtues of b's wife, and the manifold crimes of the lad : how he stole, and fought, and lied, and swore; and though the youngest under his roof, exercised the most baneful influence over all the rest of his family. He was determined at last, he said, to put him to the parish, for he did not dare to keep him. " He's a fine whelp, and would fetch ten pieces in Virginny," sighed the Ensign. THOMAS BILLINGS LEAVES HOME 6o7 " Crimp, of Bristol, would give five for him," said Mr. Wood, ruminating. " Why not take him 1 " said the Ensign. " Paith, -why not 1 " said Mr. Wood. " His keep, meanwhile, wUl not be sixpence a day." Then turning round to the black- smith, " Mr. Billings," said he, " you will be surprised, perhaps, to hear that I know everything regarding that poor lad's history. His mother was an unfortunate lady of high family, now no more ; his father a German nobleman. Count de Galgensteiu by name." " The very man ! " said Billings : " a young, fair-haired man, who came here with the child, and a dragoon sergeant." " Count de Galgenstein by name, who, on the point of death, recommended the infant to me." " And did he pay you seven years' boarding f " said Mr. Billings, who was quite alive at the very idea. " Alas, sir, not a jot ! He died, sir, six hundred pounds in my debt; didn't he. Ensign?" " Six hundred, upon my secred honour ! I remember when he got into the house along with the poll " " Psha ! what matters it ? " here broke out Mr. Wood, looking fiercely at the Ensign. " Six hundred pounds he owes me : how was he to pay you? But he told me to take charge of this boy, if I found him ; and found him I have, and will take charge of him, if you will hand him over." " Send our Tom ! " cried Billings. And when that youth appeared, scowling, and yet trembling, and prepared, as it seemed, for another castigation, his father, to his surprise, asked him if he was willing to go along with those gentlemen, or whether he would be a good lad and stay with him. Mr. Tom replied immediately, " I won't be a good lad, and I'd rather go to than stay with you ! " "Will you leave your brothers and sisters?" said Billings, looking very dismal. " Hang my brothers and sisters — I hate 'em ; and, besides I haven't got any ! " " But you had a good mother, hadn't you, Tom ? " Tom paused for a moment. "Mother's gone," said he, "and you flog me, and I'll go with these men." "Well, then, go thy ways," said Billings, starting up in a passion : "go thy ways for a graceless reprobate ; and if this gentleman will take you, he may do so." After some further parley, the conversation ended, and the next morning Mr. Wood's party consisted of three : a little boy 608 CATHERINE: A STORY being mounted upon the bay horse, in addition to the Ensign or himself; and the whole company went journeying towards Bristol. We have said that Mrs. Hayes had, on a sudden, taken a fit of maternal affection, and was bent upon being restored to her child ; and that benign destiny which watched over the life of this lucky lady instantly set about gratifying her wish, and, without cost to herself of coach-hire or saddle-horse, sent the young gentleman very quickly to her arms. The village in which the Hayeses dwelt was but a very few miles out of the road from Bristol ; whither, on the benevolent mission above hinted at, our party of worthies were bound : and coming, towards the afternoon, in sight of the house of that very Justice Ballance who had been so nearly the ruin of Ensign Macshane, that ofiicer narrated, for the hundredth time, and with much glee, the circumstances which had then befallen him, and the manner in which Mrs. Hayes the elder had come forward to his rescue. " Suppose we go and see the old girl ? " suggested Mr. Wood. " No harm can come to us now." And his comrade always assent- ing, they wound their way towards the village, and reached it as the evening came on. In the public-house where they rested. Wood made inquiries concerning the Hayes family ; was informed of the death of the old couple, of the establishment of John Hayes and his wife in their place, and of the kind of life that these latter led together. AVhen all these points had been imparted to him, he ruminated much : an expression of sublime triumph and exultar tion at length lighted up his features. " I think, Tim," said he at last, " that we can make more than five pieces of that boy." " Oh, in coorse ! " said Timothy Macshane, Esquire ; who always agreed with his " Meejor." " In coorse, you fool ! and how ? I'll tell you how. This Hayes is well to do in the world, and " " And we'll nab him again- — ha, ha ! " roared out Macshane. " By my secred honour, Meejor, there never was a giucral like you at a strathyjam ! " " Peace, you bellowing donkey, and don't wake the child. The man is well to do, his wife rules him, and they have no children. Now, either she will be very glad to have the boy back again, and pay for the finding of him, or else she has said nothing about him, and wiU pay us for being silent too : or, at any rate, Hayes himself will be ashamed at finding his wife the mother of a child a year older than his marriage, and will pay for tlie keeping of the brat away. There's profit, my dear, in any one of the cases, or my name's not Peter Brock." STRATEGIC COMBINATIONS 609 When the Ensign understood this wondrous argument, he would fain have fallen on his knees and worshipped his friend and guide. They began operations, almost immediately, by an attack on Mrs. Hayes. On hearing, as she did in private interview with the ex-corporal the next morning, that her son was found, she was agitated by both of the passions which Wood attributed to her. She longed to have the boy back, and would give any reasonable sum to see him ; but she dreaded exposure, and would pay equally to avoid that. ' How could she gain the one point and escape the other? Mrs. Hayes hit upon an expedient which, I am given to under- stand, is not uncommon nowadays. She suddenly discovered that she had a dear brother, who had been obliged to fly the country in consequence of having joined the Pretender, and had died in France, leaving behind him an only son. This boy her brother had, with his last breath, recommended to her protection, and had confided him to the charge of a brother officer who was now in the country, and would speedily make his appearance ; and, to put the story beyond a doubt, Mr. Wood wrote the letter from her brother stating all these particulars, and Ensign Macshane received full instructions how to perform the part of the " brother officer." What consideration Mr. Wood received for his services, we cannot say ; only it is well known that Mr. Hayes caused to be committed to gaol a young apprentice in his service, charged with having broken open a cup- hoard in which Mr. Hayes had forty guineas in gold and silver, and to which none but he and his wife had access. Having made these arrangements, the Corporal andi.his little party decamped to a short distance, and Mrs. Catherine was left to prepare her husband for a speedy addition to his family, in the shape of this darling nephew. John Hayes received the news with anytliing but pleasure. He had never heard of any brother of Catherine's ; she had been bred at the workhouse, and nobody ever hinted that she had relatives : but it is easy for a lady of moderate genius to invent circumstances ; and with lies, tears, threats, coaxings, oaths, and other blandishments, she compelled him to submit. Two days afterwards, as Mr. Hayes was working in his shop with his lady seated beside him, the trampling of a horse was heard in his courtyard, and a gentleman, of huge stature, descended from it, and strode into the shop. His figure was wrapped in a large cloak ; but Mr. Hayes could not help fancying that he had some- where seen his face before. "This, I preshoom," said the gentleman, "is Misther Hayes, that I have come so many miles to see, and this is his amiable lady 1 I was the most intimate frind, madam, of your laminted brother, 4 2 Q 610 CATHERINE: A STORY who died in King Lewis's service, and whose last touching letthers I despatched to you two days ago. I have with me a further precious token of my dear friend, Captain Hall — it is here." And so saying, the military gentleman, with one arm, removed his cloak, and stretching forward the other into Hayes's face almost, stretched likewise forward a little boy, grinning and sprawling in the air, and prevented only from falling to the ground by the hold which the Ensign kept of the waistband of his little coat and breeches. " Isn't he a pretty boy 1 " said Mrs. Hayes, sidling up to her husband tenderly, and pressing one of Mr. Hayes's hands. About the lad's beauty it is needless to say what the carpenter thought ; but that night, and for many, many nights after, the lad stayed at Mr. Hayes's. CHAPTER VIII ENUMERATES THE ACCOMPLISHMENTS OF MASTER THOMAS BILLINGS— INTRODUCES BROCK AS DOCTOR WOOD— AND ANNOUNCES THE EXECUTION OF ENSIGN MACSHANE WE are obliged, in recording this liistory, to follow accurately that great authority, the " Calendarium Newgaticum Eoagorumque Kegisterium," of which every lover of litera- ture in the present day knows the value ; and as that remarkable work totally discards aU the unities in its narratives, and reckons the life of its heroes only by their actions, and not by periods of time, we must follow in the wake of this mighty ark — a humble cook-boat. When it pauses, we pause ; when it runs ten knots an hour, we run with the same celerity ; and as, in order to carry the reader from the penultimate chapter of this work unto the last chapter, we were compelled to make him leap over a gap of seven blank years, ten years more must likewise be granted to us before we are at liberty to resume our history. During that period. Master Thomas Billings had been under the especial care of his mother ; and, as may be imagined, he rather increased than diminished the accomplishments for which he had been remarkable while under the roof of his foster-father. And with this advantage, that while at the blacksmith's, and only three or four years of age, his virtues were necessarily appreciated only in his family circle, and among those few acquaintances of his own time of life whom a youth of three can be expected to meet in the alleys or over the gutters of a small country hamlet, — in his mother's residence, his circle extended with his own growth, and he began to give proofs of those powers of which in infancy there had been only encouraging indications. Thus it was nowise remarkable that a child of four years should not know his letters, and should have had a gi-eat disinclination to learn them ; but when a young man of fifteen showed the same creditable ignorance, the same undeviating dislike, it was easy to see that he possessed much resolution and perseverance. When it was remarked, too, that, in case of any difference, he not only beat the usher, but by no means disdained to torment and bully the very smallest boys of the school, it was easy 6l2 CATHEEINE: A STORY to see that his mind was comprehensive and careful, as well as courageous and grasping. As it was said of the Duke of Wellington, in the Peninsula, that he had a thought for everybody— from Lord Hill to the smallest drummer in the army— in like manner Tom Billings bestowed his attention on high and low ; but in the shape of blows : he would fight the strongest and kick the smallest, and was always at work with one or the other. At thirteen, when he was removed from the establishment whither he had been sent, he was the cock of the school out of doors, and the very last boy in. He used to let the little boys and new-comers pass him by, and laugh ; but he always belaboured them unmercifully afterwards ; and then it was, he said, his turn to laugh. With such a pugnacious turn, Tom Billings ought to have been made a soldier, and might have died a marshal ; but, by an unlucky ordinance of fate, he was made a tailor, and died a — never mind what for the present ; suffice it to say, that he was suddenly cut off, at a very early period of his existence, by a disease which has exercised considerable ravages among the British youth. By consulting, the authority above mentioned, we find that Hayes did not confine himself to the profession of a carpenter, or remain long estabhshed in the country ; but was induced, by the eager spirit of Mrs. Catherine most probably, to try his fortune in the metropolis ; where he lived, flourished, and died. Oxford Eoad, Saint Giles's, and Tottenham Court were, at various periods of his residence iu town, inhabited by him. At one place he carried on the business of greengrocer and small-coalman ; in another, he was carpenter, undertalvcr, and lender of money to the poor ; finally, he was a lodging-house keeper in the Oxford or Tyburn Road ; but con- tiimed to exercise the last-named charitable profession. Lending as he did upon pledges, and can'ying on a pretty large trade, it was not for him, of course, to inquire into the pedigree of all the pieces of plate, the bales of cloth, swords, watches, wigs, shoe-buckles, &c., that were confided by his friends to his keeping ; but it is clear that his friends had the requisite confidence in him, and that he enjoyed the esteem of a class of characters who still live in history, and are admired unto this very day. The mind loves to think that, perhaps, in Mr. Hayes's back parlour the gallant Turpin might have hob-and-nobbed ■ with Mrs. Catherine ; that here, perhaps, the noble Sheppard might have cracked his joke, or quaffed his pint of rum. Who knows but that Macheath and Paul Clifford may have crossed legs under Hayes's dinner-table 1 But why pause to speculate on things that might have been 1 why desert reality for fond imagination, or call up from their honoured graves the sacred dead 1 I know not : and yet, in sooth, I can A CHEAP PLEASURE 613 never pass Oumlierland Gate without a sigh, as I think of the gallant cavaliers who traversed that road in old time. Pious priests accompanied their triumphs ; their chariots were surrounded by hosts of glittering javelin-men. As the slave at the car of the Eoman conqueror shouted, " Remember thou art mortal ! " before the eyes of the British warrior rode the undertaker and his coffin, telling him that he too must die ! Mark well the spot ! A hundred years ago Albion Street (where comic Power dwelt, Milesia's darling son)— ^-Albion Street was a desert. The square of Oonnaught was without its penultimate, and, strictly speaking, naught. The Edgware Road was then a road, 'tis true ; with tinkling waggons passing now and then, and fragrant walls of snowy hawthorn blossoms. The ploughman whistled over Nutford Place ; down the green solitudes of Sovereign Street the merry milkmaid led the lowing kine. Here, then, in the midst of green fields and sweet air — before ever omnibuses were, and when Pineapple Turnpike and Terrace were alike unknown — here stood Tyburn : and on the road towards it, perhaps to enjoy the prospect, stood, in the year 172-5, the habitation of Mr. John Hayes. One fine morning in the year 1725, Mrs. Hayes, who had been abroad in her best hat and riding-hood ; Mr. Hayes, who for a wonder had accompanied her ; and Mrs. Springatt, a lodger, who for a remuneration had the honour of sharing Mrs. Hayes's friend- ship and table : all returned, smiling and rosy, at about half-past ten o'clock, from a walk which they had taken to Bayswater. Many thousands of people were likewise seen flocking down the Oxford Road ; and you would rather have thought, from the smart- ness of their appearance and the pleasure depicted in their counte- nances, that they were just issuing from a sermon, than quitting the ceremony which they had been to attend. The fact is, that tliey had just been to see a gentleman hanged, — a cheap pleasure, which the Hayes family never denied them- selves ; and they returned home with a good appetite to breakfast, braced by the walk, and tickled into hunger, as it were, by the spectacle. I can recollect, when I was a gyp at Cambridge, that the " men " used to have breakfast-parties for the very same pur- pose ; and the exhibition of the morning acted infallibly upon the stomach, and caused the young students to eat with much voracity. Well, Mrs. Catherine, a handsome, well-dressed, plump, rosy woman of three or four and thirty (and when, my dear, is a woman handsomer than at that agel), came in quite merrily from her walk, and entered the back-parlour, which looked into a pleasant yard, or garden, whereon the sun was shining very gaily ; and where at a table covered with a nice white cloth, laid out with some silver 614 CATHEEINE: A STORY mugs, too, and knives, all with diflferent crests and patterns, sat an old gentleman reading in an old book. "Here we are at last, Doctor," said Mrs. Hayes, "and here's his speech." She produced the little halfpenny tract, which to this day is sold at the gallows-foot upon the death of every offender. " I've seen a many men turned off, to be sure ; but I never did see one who bore it more like a man than he did." "My dear," said the gentleman addressed as Doctor, "he was as cool and as brave as steel, and no more minded hanging than tooth-drawing." " It was the drink that ruined him," said Mrs. Cat. " Drink, and bad company. I warned him, my dear, — I warned him years ago : and directly he got into Wild's gang, I knew that he had not a year to run. Ah, why, my love, will men continue such dangerous courses," continued the Doctor, with a sigh, "and jeopardy their lives for a miserable watch or a snuffbox, of which Mr. Wild takes three-fourths of the produce 1 But here comes the breakfast ; and, egad, I am as hungry as a lad of twenty." Indeed, at this moment Mrs. Hayes's servant appeared with a smoking dish of bacon and greens ; and Mr. Hayes himself ascended from the cellar (of which he kept the key), bearing with him a tolerably large jug of small-beer. To this repast the Doctor, Mrs. Springatt (the other lodger), and Mr. and Mrs. Hayes proceeded with gi-eat alacrity. A fifth cover was laid, but not used ; the company remarking that " Tom had very likely found some acquaint- ances at Tyburn, with whom he might choose to pass the morning." Tom was Master Thomas Billings, now of the age of sixteen : sUm, smart, five feet ten inclies in height, handsome, sallow in com- plexion, black-eyed and black-haired. Mr. Billings was apprentice to a tailor, of tolerable practice, who was to take liim into partner- ship at the end of his term. It was supposed, and with reason, that Tom would not fail to make a fortune in this business ; of which the present head was one Beinkleider, a German. Beinkleider was skilful in his trade (after the manner of his nation, which in breeches and metaphysics — in inexpressibles and incomprehensibles — may instruct all Europe), but too fond of his pleasure. Some promissory notes of his had found their way into Hayes's hands, and had given him the means not only of prodding Master Billings with a cheap apprenticeship, and a cheap partnership afterwards ; but would empower him, in one or two years after the young partner had joined the firm, to eject the old one altogether. So that there was every prospect that, when Mr. Billings was twenty-one years of age, poor Beinkleider would have to act, not as his master, but his journeyman. ME. HAYES AND ME. BILLINGS 6l5 Tom was a very precocious youth ; was supplied by a dotiog mother with plenty of pocket-money, and spent it with a number of lively companions of both sexes, at plays, bull-baitings, fairs, jolly parties on the river, and suchlike innocent amusements. He could throw a main, too, as well as his elders ; had pinked his man, in a row at Madam King's in the Piazza ; and was much respected at the Eoundhouse. Mr. Hayes was not very fond of this promising young gentle- man; indeed, he had the baseness to bear malice, because, in a quarrel which occurred about two years previously, he, Hayes, being desirous to chastise Mr. Billings, had found himself not only quite Incompetent, but actually at the mercy of the boy ; who struck him over the head with a joint-stool, felled him to the groimd, and swore he would have his life. The Doctor, who was then also a lodger at Mr. Hayes's, interposed, and restored the combatants, not to friend- ship, but to peace. Hayes never afterwards attempted to lift his hand to the young man, but contented himself with hating him profoundly. In this sentiment Mr. Billings participated cordially ; and, quite unhke Mr. Hayes, who never dared to show his dislike, used on every occasion when they met, by actions, looks, words, sneers, and curses, to let his stepfather know the opinion which he had of him. Why did not Hayes discard the boy altogether ? Because, if he did so, he was really afraid of his life, and because he trembled before Mrs. Hayes, his lady, as the leaf trembles before the tempest in October. His breath was not his own, but hers; his money, too, had been chiefly of her getting, — for though he was as stingy and mean as mortal man can be, and so likely to save much, he had not the genius for getting which Mrs. Hayes possessed. She kept his books (for she had learned to read and write by this time), she made his bargains, and she directed the operations of the poor- spirited little capitalist. When bills became due, and debtors pressed for time, then she brought Hayes's own professional merits into play. The man was as deaf and cold as a rock; never did poor tradesmen gain a penny from him; never were the bailifl's delayed one single minute from their prey. The Beinkleider busi- ness, for instance, showed pretty well the genius of the two. Hayes was for closing with him at once ; but his wife saw the vast profits which might be drawn out of him, and arranged the apprenticeship and the partnership before alluded to. The woman heartily scorned and spit upon her husband, who fawned upon her like a spaniel. She loved good cheer; she did not want for a certain kind of generosity. The only feeling that Hayes had for any one except himself was for his wife, whom he held in a cowardly awe and attachment : he liked drink, too, which made him chirping and 6l6 CATHERINE: A STORY merry, and accepted willingly any treats that his acquaintances might offer him ; but he would suffer agonies when his wife brought or ordered from the cellar a bottle of wine. And now for the Doctor. He was about seventy years of age. He had been much abroad ; he was of a sober, cheerful aspect ; he dressed handsomely and quietly in a broad hat and cassock ; but saw no company except the few friends whom he met at the coffee- house. He had an income of about one hundred pounds, which he promised to leave to young Billings. He was amused with the lad, and fond of his mother, and had boarded with them for some years past. The Doctor, in fact, was our old friend Corporal Brock, the Reverend Doctor Wood now, as he had been Major Wood fifteen years back. Any one who has read the former part of this history must have seen that we have spoken throughout with invariable respect of Mr. Brook ; and that in every circumstance in which he has appeared, he has acted not only with prudence, but often with genius. The early obstacle to Mr. Brock's success was want of conduct simply. Drink, women, play — how many a brave fellow have they ruined ! — had pulled Brock down as often as his merit had carried him up. When a man's passion for play has brought him to be a scoundrel, it at once ceases to be hurtful to him in a worldly point of view ; he cheats, and wins. It is- only for the idle and luxurious that women retain their fascinations to a very late period ; and Brock's passions had been whipped out of him in Virginia ; where much ill-health, ill-treatment, hard labour, and hard food, speedily put an end to them. He forgot there even how to drink ; rum or wine made this poor declining gentleman so ill that he could indulge in them no longer ; and so his three vices were cured. Had he been ambitious, there is little doubt but that Mr. Brock, on his return from transportation, might have risen in the world ; but he was old and a philosopher : he did not care about rising. Living was cheaper in those days, and interest for money higher ■ when he had amassed about six hundred pounds, he purchased an annuity of seventy-two pounds, and gave out— why should he notl —that he had the capital as well as the interest. After leaving the Hayes family in the country, he found them again in London : he took up his abode with them, and was attached to the mother and the son. Do you suppose that rascals have not affections like other people? hearts, madam — ay, hearts— and family ties which they cherish? As the Doctor lived on with this charming family he began to regret that he had sunk all his money in annuities, and could not, as he repeatedly vowed he would, leave his savings to his adopted children. He felt an indescribable pleasure ("suave mari magno," &c.) AN AFFECTIONATE FAMILY 6l7 in watcliing the storms and tempests of the Hayes manage. He used to encourage Mrs. Catherine into anger wften, haply, that lady's fits of calm would last too long ; he used to warm up the disputes between wife and husband, mother and son, and enjoy them beyond expression : they served him for daily amusement ; and he used to laugh until the tears ran down his venerable cheeks at the accounts which young Tom continually brought him of his pranks abroad, among watchmen and constables, at taverns or elsewhere. When, therefore, as the party were discussing their bacon and cabbage, before which the Reverend Doctor with much gravity said grace. Master Tom entered. Doctor Wood, who had before been rather gloomy, immediately brightened up, and made a place for Billings between himself and Mrs. Catherine. "How do, old cockr' said that young gentleman familiarly. "How. goes it, mother?" And so saying, lie seized eagerly upon the jug of beer which Mr. Hayes had drawn, and from which the latter was about to help himself, and poured down his throat exactly one quart. " Ah ! " said Mr. Billings, drawing breath after a draught which he had learned accurately to gauge from the habit of drinking out of pewter measures which held precisely that quantity. — " Ah ! " said Mr. BilUngs, drawing breath, and wiping his mouth with his sleeves, " this is very thin stuff, old Squaretoes ; but my coppers have been red-hot since last night, and they wanted a sluicing." " Should you like some ale, dear 1 " said Mrs. Hayes, that fond and judicious parent. "A quart of brandy, Tom?" said Doctor Wood. "Your papa will run down to the cellar for it in a minute." " I'll see him hanged first ! " cried Mr. Hayes, quite frightened. " Oh, fie, now, you unnatural father ! " said the Doctor. The very name of father used to put Mr. Hayes in a fury. " I'm not his father, thank Heaven ! " said he. " No, nor nobody else's," said Tom. Mr. Hayes only muttered " Base-bom brat ! " "His father was a gentleman, — that's more than pou ever were ! " screamed Mrs. Hayes. " His father was a man of spirit ; no cowardly sneak of a carpenter, Mr. Hayes ! Tom has noble blood in his veins, for all he has a tailor's appearance ; and if his mother had had her right, she would be now in a coach-and six." "I wish I could find my father," said Tom; "for I think Polly Briggs and I would look mighty well in a coach-and-six." Tom fancied that if his father was a count at the time of his birth, he must be a prince now ; and, indeed, went among his companions by the latter august title. 618 CATHERINE: A STORY "Ay, Tom, that you would," cried his mother, looking at him fondly. " "With a sword by my side, and a hat and feather, there's never a lord at St. James's would cut a finer figure." After a little more of this talk, in which Mrs. Hayes let the company know her high opinion of her son — who, as usual, took care to show his extreme contempt for his stepfather — the latter retired to his occupations; the lodger, Mrs. Springatt, who had never said a word all this time, retired to her apartment on the second floor; and, pulling out their pijies and tobacco, the old gentleman and the young one solaced themselves with half-an-hour's more talk and smoking ; while the tlirifty Mrs. Hayes, opposite to them, was busy with her books. "What's in the confessions?" said Mr. Billings to Doctor Wood. " There were six of 'em besides Mac : two for sheep, four housebreakers ; but nothing of consequence, I fancy." " There's the paper," said Wood archly. " Read for your- self, Tom." Mr. Tom looked at the same time very fierce and very foolish ; for, though he could drink, swear, and fight as well as any lad of his inches in England, reading was not among his accomplishments. " I tell you what. Doctor," said he, " you ! have no bantering with me, — for I'm not the man that will bear it, me ! " and he threw a tremendous swaggering look across the table. " I want you to learn to read. Tommy, dear. Look at your mother there over her books : she keeps them as neat as a scrivener now, and at twenty she could make never a stroke." " Your godfather speaks for your good, child ; and for me, thou knowest that I have promised thee a gold-headed cane and periwig on the first day that thou canst read me a column of the Flying Post." " Hang the periwig ! " said Mr. Tom testily. " Let my god- father read the paper himself, if he has a liking for it." Whereupon the old gentleman put on his spectacles, and glanced over the sheet of whity-brown paper, which, ornamented with a pic- ture of a gallows at the top, contained the biographies of the seven unlucky individuals who had that morning suff'ered the penalty of the law. With the six heroes who came first in the list we have nothing to do ; but have before us a copy of the paper containing the life of No. 7, and which the Doctor read in an audible voice. "eCaptafn jWacsfjane. " The seventh victim to his own crimes was the famous highway- man. Captain Macshane, so well known as the Irish Fire-eater. Catherine's present to mr. hayes. THE END OP ENSIGN MACSHANE 619 " The Captain came to the ground in a fine white lawn shirt and nightcap ; and, being a Papist in his religion, was attended by Father O'PIaherty, Popish priest, and chaplain to the Bavarian Envoy. " Captain Macshane was born of respectable parents, in the town of Clonakilty, in Ireland, being descended from most of the kings in that country. He had the honour of serving their Majesties King William and Queen Mary, and Her Majesty Queen Anne, in Flanders and Spain, and obtained much credit from my Lords Marlborough and Peterborough for his valour. " But being placed on half-pay at the end of the war. Ensign Macshane took to evil courses ; and, frequenting the bagnios and dice-houses, was speedily brought to ruin. " Being at this pass, he fell in with the notorious Captain Wood, and they two together committed many atrocious robberies in the inland counties ; but these being too hot to hold them, they went into the west, where they were unknown. Here, however, the day of retribution arrived; for, having stolen three pewter-pots from a public-house, they, under false names, were tried at Exeter, and trans- ported for seven years beyond the sea. Thus it is seen that Justice never sleeps ; but, sooner or latter, is sure to overtake the criminal. " On their return from Virginia, a quarrel about booty arose between these two, and Macshane killed Wood in a combat that took place between them near to the town of Bristol ; but a waggon coming up, Macshane was obliged to fly without the ill-gotten wealth : so true is it, that wickedness never prospers. " Two days afterwards, Macshane met the coach of Miss Macraw, a Scotch lady and heiress, going, for lumbago and gout, to the Bath. He at first would have robbed this lady ; but such were his arts, that he induced her to marry him ; and they lived together for seven years in the town of Eddenboro, in Scotland, — he passing under the name of Colonel Geraldine. The lady dying, and Macshane having expended all her wealth, he was obliged to resume his former evil courses, in order to save himself from starvation; whereupon he robbed a Scotch lord, by name the Lord of Whistlebinkie, of a mull of snuff'; for which crime he was condemned to the Tolbooth prison at Eddenboro, in Scotland, and whipped many times in publick. " These deserved punishments did not at all alter Captain Macshane's disposition ; and on the 1 7th of February last, he stopped the Bavarian iSnvoy's coach on Blackheath, coming from Dover, and robbed his Excellency and his chaplain; taking from the former his money, watches, star, a fur-cloak, his sword (a very valuable one) ; and from the latter a Komish missal, out of which he was then reading, and a case-bottle." 620 CATHERINE: A STORY " The Bavarian Envoy ! " said Tom parenthetically. " My master, Beiukleider, was his Lordship's regimental tailor in Ger- many, and is now making a Court suit for him. It will be a matter of a hundred pounds to him, I warrant." Doctor Wood resumed his reading. " Hum — hum ! A Romish missal, out of which he was reading, and a case-bottle. "By means of the famous Mr. Wild, this notorious criminal was brought to justice, and the case-bottle and missal have been restored to Father O'Flaherty. " During his confinement in Newgate, Mr. Macshane could not be brought to express any contrition for his crimes, except that of having killed his commanding officer. For this Wood he pretended an excessive sorrow, and vowed that usquebaugh had been the cause of liis death, — indeed, in prison he partook of no other liquor, and drunk a bottle of it on the day before his death. " He was visited by several of the clergy and gentry in his cell ; among others, by the Popish p'riest whom he had robbed. Father O'Flaherty, before mentioned, who attended him likewise in his last moments (if that idolatrous worship may be called attention) ; and likewise by the Father's patron, the Bavarian Ambassador, his Excellency Count Maximilian de Galgenstein." As old Wood came to these words, he paused to give them utterance. " What ! Max ? " screamed Mrs. Hayes, letting her ink-bottle fall over her ledgers. " Why, be hanged if it ben't my father ! " said Mr. Billings. " Your father, sure enough, unless there be others of his name, and unless the scoundrel is hanged," said the Doctor — sinking his voice, however, at the end of the sentence. Mr. Billings broke his pipe in an agony of joy. "I think we'll have the coach now, mother," says he; "and I'm blessed if Polly Briggs shall not look as fine as a duchess." "Polly Briggs is a low slut, Tom, and not fit -for the likes of you, his Excellency's son. Oh, fie! You must be a gentleman now, sirrah ; and I doubt whether I shan't take you away from that odious tailor's shop altogether." To this proposition Mr. Billings objected altogether ; for, besides Mrs. Briggs before alluded to, the young gentleman was much at- tached to his master's daughter, Mrs. Margaret Gretel, or Gretchen Beinkleider. " No," says he. " There will be time to think of that here- after, ma'am. If my pa makes a man of me, why, of course, the EXCITING INTELLIGENCE 621 shop may go to the deuce, for what I care ; but we had better wait, look you, for something certain before we give up such a pretty bird in the hand as this." "He speaks like Solomon," said the Doctor. " I always said he would be a credit to his old mother, didn'l I, Brock 1 " cried Mrs. Cat, embracing her son very affectionately. " A credit to her ; ay, I warrant, a real blessing ! And dost thou want any money, Tom ? for a lord's son must not go about without a few pieces in his pocket. And I tell thee. Tommy, thou must go and see his Lordship ; and thou shalt have a piece of brocade for a waistcoat, thou shalt ; ay, and the silver-hilted sword I told thee of ; but Tommy, Tommy ! have a care, and don't be a-drawing of it in naughty company at the gaming-houses, or at the " " A drawing of fiddlesticks, mother ! If I go to see my father, I must have a reason for it ; and instead of going with a sword in my hand, I shall take something else in it." "The lad is a lad of nous," cried Doctor Wood, "although his' mother does spoil him so cruelly. Look you, Madam Cat : did you not hear what he said about Beinkleider and the clothes ? Tommy will just wait on the Count with his Lordship's breeches. A man may learn a deal of news in the trying on of a pair of breeches." And so it was agreed that in this manner the son should at fii-st make his appearance before his father. Mrs. Cat gave him the piece of brocade, which, in the course of the day, was fashioned into a smart waistcoat (for Beinkleider's shop was close by, in Cavendish Square). Mrs. Gretel, with many blushes, tied a fine blue riband round his neck ; and, in a pair of silk stockings, with gold buckles to his shoes, Master Billings looked a very proper young gentleman. "And, Tommy," said his mother, blushing and hesitating, " should Max — should his Lordship ask after your — want to know if your mother is alive, you can say she is, and well, and often talks of old times. Aud, Tommy" (after another pause), "you needn't say anything about Mr. Hayes ; only say I'm quite well." Mrs. Hayes looked at him as he marched down the street, a long, long way. Tom was proud and gay in his new costume, and was not unlike his father. As she looked, lo ! Oxford Street disappeared, and she saw a green common, and a village, and a little inn. There was a soldier leading a pair of horses about- on the green common ; and in the inn sat a cavalier, so young, so merry, so beautiful! Oh, what slim white hands he had; and winning words, and tender, gentle blue eyes ! Was it not an honour to a country lass that such a noble gentleman should look at her for a moment 1 Had he not some charm about him that she must needs obey when he whispered in her car, " Come, follow me ! " 622 CATHEEINE: A STOKY As she walked towards the lane that morning, how well she remem- bered each spot as she passed it, and the look it wore for the last time ! How the smoke was rising from the pastures, how the fish were jumping and plashing in the mill stream ! There was the cliurch, with all its windows lighted up with gold, and yonder were the reapers sweeping down the brown corn. She tried to sing as she went up the hill— what was it t She could not remember ; but oh, how well she remembered the sound of the horse's hoofs, as they came quicker, quicker — nearer, nearer ! How noble he looked on his great horse ! Was he thinking of her, or were they all silly words which he spoke last night, merely to pass away the time and deceive poor girls with? Would he remember them, — would he? " Cat, my dear,'' here cried Mr. Brock, alias Captain, alias Doctor Wood, " here's the meat a-getting cold, and I am longing for my breakfast." As they went in he looked her hard in the face. " What, still at it, you silly girl ? I've been watching you these five minutes. Cat ; and be hanged but I think a word from Galgenstein, and you would follow him as a fly does a treacle-pot ! " They went in to breakfast ; but though there was a hot shoulder of mutton and onion-sauce — Mrs. Catherine's favourite dish — she never touched a morsel of it. In the meanwhile Mr. Thomas Billings, in his new clothes which his mamma had given him, in his new riband which the fair Miss Beinkleider had tied round his neck, and having his Excellency's breeclies wrapped in a silk handkerchief in his right hand, turned down in the direction of Whitehall, where the Bavarian Envoy lodged. But, before he waited on him, Mr. Billings, being excessively pleased with his personal a.ppearance, made an early visit to Mrs. Briggs, who lived in the neighbourhood of Swallow Street ; and who, after expressing herself with much enthusiasm ]-egarding her Tommy's good looks, immediately asked him what he would stand to drink? Easpberry gin being suggested, a pint of that liquor was sent for ; and so great was the confidence and inti- macy subsisting between these two young people, that the reader will be glad to hear that Mrs. Polly accepted every shilling of the money which Tom Bilhngs had received from his mamma the day before ; nay, could with difficulty be prevented from seizing upon the cut-velvet breeches which he was carrying to the nobleman for whom they were made. Having paid his adieux to Mrs. Polly, Mr. Billings departed to visit his father. CHAPTER IX INTERVIEW BETWEEN COUNT GALGENSTEIN AND MASTER THOMAS BILLINGS, WHEN HE INFORMS THE COUNT OF HIS PARENTAGE I DON'T know in all this miserable world a more miserable spec- tacle than that of a young fellow of five or six and forty. The British army, that nursery of valour, turns out many of the young fellows I mean : who, having flaunted in dragoon uniforms from seventeen to six-and-thirty ; having bought, sold, or swapped during that period some two hundred horses ; having played, say, fifteen thousand games at billiards ; having drunk some six thousand bottles of wine ; having consumed a reasonable number of Nugee coats, split many dozen pairs of high-heeled Hoby boots, and read the newspaper and the army-list duly, retire from the service when they have attained their eighth lustre, and saunter through the world, trailing from London to Cheltenham, and from Boulogne to Paris, and from Paris to Baden, their idleness, their ill-health, and their ennui. " In the morning of youth," and when seen along with whole troops of their companions, these flowers look gaudy and brilliant enough ; but there is no object more dismal than one of them alone, and in its autumnal, or seedy state. My friend, Captain Popjoy, is one who has arrived at this condition, and whom everybody knows by his title of Father Pop. A kinder, simpler, more empty-headed fellow does not exist. He is forty- seven years old, and appears a young, good-looking man of sixty. At the time of the Army of Occupation he really was as good- looking a man as any in the Dragoons. He now uses all sorts of stratagems to cover the bald place on his head, by combing certain thin grey side-locks over it. He has, in revenge, a pair of enormous moustaches, which he dyes of the richest blue-black. His nose is a good deal larger and redder than it used to be ; his eyelids have grown flat and heavy ; and a little pair of red, watery eyeballs float in the midst of them : it seems as if the light which was once in those sickly green pupils had extravasated into the white part of the eye. If Pop's legs are not so firm and muscular as they used to be in those days when he took such leaps into White's 624 CATHEKINE: A STOKY buckskins, in revenge his waist is mncli larger. He wears a very good coat, however, and a waistband, which he lets out aftej" dinner. Before ladies he blushes, and is as silent as a schoolboy. He calls them " modest women." His society is chiefly among young lads belonging to his former profession. He knows the best wine to be had at each tavern or caf^ and the waiters treat him with much respectful familiarity. He knows the names of every one of them ; and shouts out, " Send Markwell here ! " or, " Tell Cuttriss to give us a bottle of the yellow seal ! " or, " Dizzy voo, Monsure Borrel, noo donny shampang frappy," &c. He always makes the salad or the punch, and dines out three hundred days in the year : the other days you see him in a two-franc eating-house at Paris, or prowling about Rupert Street, or St. Martin's Court, where you get a capital cut of meat for eightpence. He has decent lodgings and scrupu- lously clean linen ; his animal functions are still tolerably well preserved, his spiritual have evaporated long since ; he sleeps well, has no conscience, believes himself to be a respectable fellow, and is tolerably happy on the days when he is asked out to dinner. Poor Pop is not very high in the scale of created beings ; but, if you fancy there is none lower, you are in egregious error. There was once a man who had a mysterious exhibition of an animal, quite im- known to naturalists, called " the wusser." Those curious individuals who desired to see the ivusser were introduced into an apartment where appeared before them nothing more than a little lean shrivelled hideous blear-eyed mangy pig. Every one cried out " Swindle ! " and " Shame ! " " Patience, gentlemen, be heasy," said the showman : " look at that there hanimal ; it's a perfect phenomaly of hugli- ness : I engage you never see such a pig." Nobody ever had seen. " Now, gentlemen," said he, " I'll keep my promise, has per bill ; and bad as that there pig is, look at this here " (he showed another). "Look at this here, and you'll see at once that it's a wusser." In like manner the Popjoy breed is bad enough, but it serves only to show off the Galgenstein race ; which is wusser. G-algenstein had led a very gay life, as the saying is, for the last fifteen years ; such a gay one, that he had lost all capacity of enjoy- ment by this time, and only possessed inclinations without powers of gratifying them. He had grown to be exquisitely curious and fastidious about meat and drink, for instance, and all that he wanted was an appetite. He carried about with him a French cook, who could not make him eat ; a doctor, who could not make him well ; a mistress, of whom he was heartily sick after two days ; a priest, who had been a favourite of the exemplary Dubois, and by turns used to tickle him by the imposition of penance, or by the repetition of a tale from the recueil of Noc^ or La Fare. All his appetites were wasted AN AMBASSADOR AND HIS CHAPLAIN 625 and worn ; only some monstrosity would galvanise them into momen- tary action. He was in that effete state to which many noblemen of his time had arrived ; who were ready to believe in ghost-raising or in gold-making, or to retire into monasteries and wear hair-shirts, or to dabble in conspiracies, or to die in love with little cook-maids of fifteen, or to pine for the smiles or at the frowns of a prince of the blood, or to go mad at the refusal of a chamberlain's key. The last gratification he remembered to have enjoyed was that of riding bare- headed in a soaking rain for three hours by the side of his Grand Duke's mistress's coach ; taking the pas of Count Krahwinkel, who challenged him, and was run through the body for this very dispute. Galgenstein gained a rheumatic gout by it, which put him to tortures for many months ; and was further gratified with the post of English Envoy. He had a fortune, he asked no salary, and could look the envoy very well. Father O'Flaherty did all the duties, and further- more acted as a spy over the ambassador — a sinecure post, for the man had no feelings, wishes, or opinions — absolutely none. "Upon my life, father," said this worthy man, "I care for nothing. You have been talking for an hour about the Regent's death, and the Duchess of Phalaris, and sly old Fleury, and what not ; and I care just as much as if you told me that one of my bauers at Galgenstein had killed a pig; or as if my lacquey, La Rose yonder, had made love to my mistress." " He does ! " said the reverend gentleman. " Ah, Monsieur I'Abb^ ! " said La Rose, who was arranging his master's enormous Court periwig, " you are, h^las ! wrong. Monsieur le Comte will not be angry at my saying that I wish the accusation were true." The Count did not take the slightest notice of La Rose's wit, but continued his own complaints. "I tell you, Abb^, I care for nothing. I lost a thousand guineas t'other night at basset; I 'wish to my heart I could have been vexed about it. Egad ! I remember the day when to lose a hundred made me half mad for a month. Well, next day I had my revenge at dice, and threw thirteen mains. There was some delay ; a call for fresh bones, I think ; and — would you believe it 1 — I fell asleep with the box in my hand ! " "A desperate case, indeed," said the Abbd. " If it "had not been for Krahwinkel, I should have been a dead man, that's positive. That pinking him saved me." " I make no doubt of it," said the Abb^. " Had your Excel- lency not run him through, he, without a doubt, would have done the same for you." " Psha ! you mistake my words, Monsieur I'Abb^ " (yawning). 626 CATHEEINE: A STORY " I mean — -what cursed chocolate ! — that I was dying for -want of excitement. Not that I cared for dying ; no, d me if I do ! " " When you do, your Excellency means," said the Abb^ a fat grey-haired Irishman, from the Irlandois College at Paris. His Excellency did not laugh, nor understand jokes of any kind ; he was of an undeviating stupidity, and only replied, " Sir, I mean what I say. I don't care for living : no, nor for dying either ; but I can speak as well as another, and I'll thank you not to be correcting my phrases as if I were one of your cursed school- boys, and not a gentleman of fortune and blood." Herewith the Count, who had uttered four sentences about himself (he never spoke of anything else), sunk back on his pillows again, quite exhausted by his eloquence. The Abb^, who had a seat and a table by the bedside, resumed the labours which had brought him into the room in the morning, and busied himself with papers, which occasionally he handed over to his superior for approval. Presently Monsieur la Rose appeared. " Here is a person with .clothes from Mr. Beinkleider's. WUl your Excellency see him, or shall I bid him leave the clothes 1 " The Count was very much fatigued by this time ; he had signed three papers, and read the iirst half-a-dozen lines of a pair of them. "Bid the fellow come in. La Rose; and, hark ye, give me my wig: one must show one's self to be a gentleman before these scoundrels." And he therefore mounted a large chestnut-coloured, orange-scented pyramid of horsehair, which was to awe the new-comer. He was a lad of about seventeen, in a smart waistcoat and a blue riband : our friend Tom Billings, indeed. He carried under his arm the Count's destined breeches. He did not seem in the least awed, however, by his Excellency's appearance, but looked at him with a great degree of curiosity and boldness. In the same manner he surveyed the chaplain, and then nodded to him with a kind look of recognition. "Where have I seen the lad?" said the father. "Oh, I have it ! My good friend, you were at the hanging yesterday, I think 1 " Mr. Billings gave a very significant nod with his head. "I never miss," said he. " What a young Turk ! And pray, sir, do you go for pleasure, or for business 1 " " Business ! what do you mean by business 1 " "Oh, I did not know whether you might be brought up to the trade, or your relations be undergoing the operation." "My relations," said Mr. Billings proudly, and staring the Count full in the face, "was not made for no such thing. I'm a tailor now, but I'm a gentleman's son : as good a man, ay, as his RECOGNITION AND EECOLLECTION 627 lordship there : for you a'n't his lordship — you're the Popish priest, you are ; and we were very near giving you a touch of a few Protestant stones, master." The Count began to be a little amused : he was pleased to see the Abb6 look alarmed, or even foolish. "Egad, Abb^," said he, "you turn as white as a sheet.'' " I don't fancy being murdered, my Lord," said the Abb^ hastily ; " and murdered for a good work. It was but to be useful to yonder poor Irishman, who saved me as a prisoner in Flanders, when Marlborough would have hung me up like poor Macshane himself was yesterday." " Ah ! " said the Count, bursting out with some energy, " I was thinking who the fellow could be, ever since he robbed me on the Heath. I recollect the scoundrel now : he was a second in a duel I had here in the year six." " Along with Major Wood, behind Montague House," said" Mr. BUlings. " /"'ve heard on it." And hfi-e he looked more knowing than ever. " Tou ! " cried the Count, more and more surprised. " And pray who the devil are you 1 " "My name's Billings." " Billings 1 " said the Count. " I come out of Warwickshire," said Mr. BiUings. " Indeed ! " " I was bom at Birmingham town." " Were you, really ! " " My mother's name was Hayes," continued Billings, in a solemn voice. " I was put out to nurse along with John Billings, a black- smith ; and my father nm away. Ifotv do you know who I ami" " Why, upon honour, now," said the Count, who was am.used, — " upon honour, Mr. Billings, I have not that advantage." "Well, then, my Lord, you're my father ! " Mr. Billings when he said this came forward to the Count with a theatrical aii- ; and, ilinging down the breeches of which he was the bearer, held out his arms and stared, having very little doubt but that his Lordship would forthwith spring out of bed and hug him to his heart. A similar piece of naivete many fathers of families have, I have no doubt, remarked in their children ; who, not caring for their parents a single doit, conceive, nevertheless, that the latter are bound to show all sorts of affection for them. His lordship did move, but backwards towards the wall, and began pulling at the bell-rope with an expression of the most intense alarm. " Keep back, sirrah ! — keep back ! Suppose I am your father, do you want to murder me ? Good heavens ! how the boy smells 628 CATHERINE: A STORY of gin and tobacco ! Don't turn away, my lad ; sit down there at a proper distance. And, La Rose, give him some eau-de-cologne, and get a cup of coffee. Well, now, go on with your story. Egad, my dear Abbd, I think it in very likely that what the lad says is true." " If it is a family conversation," said the Abb^, " I had better leave you." " Oh, for Heaven's sake, no ! I could not stand the boy alone. Now, Mister ah ! — What's-your-name 1 Have the goodness to tell your story." Mr. Billings was woefully disconcerted ; for his mother and he had agi'eed that as soon as his father saw him he would he recognised at once, and, mayhap, made heir to the estates and title ; in which being disappointed, he very sulkily went on with his narrative, and detailed many of those events with which the reader has already been made acquainted. The Count asked the boy's mother's Christian name, and being told it, his memory at once returned to him. " What ! are you little Cat's son 1 " said his Excellency. " By heavens, mon cher Abb^ a charming creature, but a tigress — positively a tigress. I recollect the whole affair now. She's a little fresh black-haired woman, a'n't she? with a sharp nose and thick eyebrows, ay 1 Ah yes, yes ! " went on my Lord, " I recollect her, I recollect her. It was at Birmingham I first met her : she was my Lady Trippet's woman, wasn't she 1 " " She was no such thing," said Mr. Billings hotly. " Her amit kept the ' Bugle Inn ' on Waltham Green, and your Lordship seduced her." " Seduced her ! Oh, 'gad, so I did. Stap me, now, I did. Yes, I made her jump on my. black horse, and bore lier off like — like ^neas bore his mfe away from the siege of Rome ! hey, YAhUV "The events were precisely similar," said the Abb^. "It is wonderful what a memory you have ! " " I was always remarkable for it," continued his Excellency. "Well, Avhere was I, — at the black horse? Yes, at the black horse. Well, I mounted her on the black horse, and rode her en croiqx, egad — ha, ha ! — to Birmingham ; and there we billed and cooed together like a pair of turtle-doves : yes — ha ! — that we did ! " " And this, I suppose, is the end of some of the billings ? " said the Abb4 pointing to Mr. Tom. "Billings! what do you mean? Yes — oh — ah — a pun, a calembourg. Fi done, M. I'Abbd." And then, after the wont of very stupid people, M. de Galgenstein went on to explain to the Abb^ his own pun. " Well, but to proceed," cries he. " We lived FATHER AND SON 629 together at Birmingham, and I ■was going to be married to a rich heiress, egad ! when wliat do you think this little Oat does 1 She murders me, egad ! and makes me manquer the marriage. Twenty thousand, I think it was ; and I wanted the money in those days. Now, wasn't she an abominable monster, that mother of yours, hey, Mr. a — What's-your-name 1 " " She served you right ! " said Mr. Billings, with a great oath, starting up out of all patience. " Fellow ! " said his Excellency, qiute aghast, " do you know to whom you speak 1 — to a nobleman of seventy-eight descents ; a count of the Holy Roman Empire ; a representative of a sovereign 1 Ha, egad ! Don't stamp, fellow, if you hope for my protection." " D — n your protection ! " said Mr. Billings in a fury. " Ourse you and your protection too ! I'm a free-born Briton, and no French Papist ! And any man who insults my jnother — ay, or calls me feller — had better look to himself and the two eyes in his head, I can tell him ! " And with this Mr. Billings put himself into the most approved attitude of the Oockpit, and invited his father, the reverend gentleman, and Monsieur la Rose the valet, to engage with him in a pugilistic encounter. The two latter, the Abb^ especially, seemed dreadfully frightened ; but the Oount now looked on with much interest ; and, giving utterance to a feeble kind of chuckle, which lasted for about half a minute, said — " Paws off, Pompey ! You young hangdog, you — egad, yes, aha ! 'pon honour, you're a lad of spirit ; some of your father's spunk in you, hey ? I know him by that oath. Why, sir, when I was sixteen, I used to swear — to swear, egad, like a Thames water- man, and exactly in this fellow's way ! Buss me, my lad ; no, kiss my hand. That will do " — and he held out a very lean yellow hand, peering from a pair of yellow rufHes. It shook very much, and the shaking made all the rings upon it shine only the more. " Well," says Mr. Billings, " if you wasn't a-going to abuse me nor mother, I don't care if I shake hands with you. I ain't proud ! " The Abb^ laughed with great glee ; and that very evening sent off to his Court a most ludicrous sjncy description of the whole scene of meeting between this amiable father and child ; in which he said that young Billings was the ^leve favori of M. Kitch, Ecuyer, le bourreau de Londres, and which made the Duke's mistress laugh so much that she vowed that the Abb^ should have a bishopric on his return : for, with such store of wisdom, look you, my son, was the world governed in those days. The Oount and his offspring meanwhile conversed with some cordiality. The former informed the latter of all the diseases to which he was subject, his manner of curing them, his great con- 630 CATHERINE: A STORY sideration as chamberlain to the Duke of Bavaria ; how he wore his Court suits, and of a particular powder which he had invented for the hair ; how, when he was seventeen, he had run away with a canoness, egad ! who was afterwards locked up in a convent, and grew to be sixteen stone in weight; how he remembered the time when ladies did not wear patches ; and how the Duchess of Marlborough boxed his ears when he was so high, because he wanted to kiss her. All these important anecdotes took some time in the telling, and were accompanied by many profound moral remarks ; such as, " I can't abide garlic, nor white-wine, stap me ! nor Sauerkraut, though his Highness eats half a bushel per day. I ate it the first time at Court ; but when they brought it me a second time, I refused — refused, split me and grill me if I didn't ! Everybody stared ; his Highness looked as fierce as a Turk ; and that infernal Krahwinkel (my dear, I did for him afterwards) — that cursed Krahwiiikel, I say, looked as pleased as possible, and whispered to Countess Fritsch, 'Blitzchen, Frau Graflnn,' says he, 'it's all over with Galgenstein.' What did I dol I had the entrde, and demanded it. ' Altesse,' says I, falling on one knee, ' I ate no kraut at dinner to-day. You remarked it : I saw your Highness remark it.' " ' I did, M. le Comte,' said his Highness gravely. " I had almost tears in my eyes ; but it was necessary to come to a resolution, you know. ' Sir,' said I, ' I speak with deep grief to your Highness, who are my benefactor, my friend, my father ; but of this I am resolved, I will never eat SAUEEKHAtTT moee : it don't agree with me. After being laid up for four weeks by the last dish of Sauerkraut of which I partook, I may say with con- fidence — it don't agree with me. By impairing my health, it impairs my intellect, and weakens my strength ; and both I would keep for your Highness's service.' " ' Tut, tut ! ' said his Highness. ' Tut, tut, tut ! ' Those were his very words. " ' Give me my sword or my pen,' said I. ' Give me my sword or my pen, and with these Maximilian de Galgenstein is ready to serve you; but sure, — sure, a great prince will pity the weak health of a faithful subject, who does not know how to eat Sauer- kraut ? ' His Highness was walking about the room : I was still on my knees, and stretched forward my hand to seize his coat. " ' Geht zum Tetjfel, sir ! ' said he, in a loud voice (it means 'Go to the deuce,' my dear), — 'Geht zum Teufel, and eat what you like ! ' With this he went out of the room abruptly ; leaving in my hand one of his buttons, which I keep to this day. As soon as I was alone, amazed by his great goodness and bounty, I sobbed MR. BILLINGS MYSTIFIED 631 aloud — cried like a cliild " (the Count's eyes filled and ^^^nked at the very recollection), " and when I went back into the card-room, stepping up to Krahwinkel, 'Count,' says I, 'who looks foolish now?' — Hey there, La Rose, give nie the diamond Yes, that was the very pun I made, and very good it was thought. ' &ahwinkel,' says I, ' tuho looks foolish now 1 ' and from that day to this I was never at a Court-day asked to eat Sauerkraut — never I " Hey there, La Rose ! Bring me that diamond snuflfbox in the drawer of my secretaire ; " and the snuffbox was brought. " Look at it, my dear," said the Count, " for I saw you seemed to doubt. There is the button — the very one that came off his Grace's coat.' Mr. Billings received it, and twisted it about with a stupid air. The story had quite mystified him; for he did not dare yet to think his father was a fool — his respect for the aristocracy pre- vented him. When the Count's communications had ceased, which they did as soon as the story of the Sauerkraut was finished, a silence of some minutes ensued. Mr. Billings was trying to comprehend the circumstances above narrated ; his Lordship was exhausted ; the chaplain had quitted the room directly the word Sauerkraut was mentioned — he knew what was coming. His Lordship looked for some time at his son ; who returned the gaze with his mouth wide open. "Well," said the Count — "well, sir? What are you sitting there for ? If you have nothing to say, sir, you had better go. I had you here to amuse me — split me — and not to sit there staring ! " Mr. Billings rose in a fury. " Hark ye, my lad," said tlie Count, " tell La Rose to give thee five guineas, and, ah — come again some morning. A nice well- grown young lad," mused the Count, as Master Tommy walked wondering out of the apartment; "a pretty fellow enough, and intelligent too." " Well, he IS an odd fellow, my father," thought Mr. Billings, as he walked out, having received the sum offered to him. And he immediately went to call upon his friend Polly Briggs, from whom he had separated in the morning. What was the result of their interview is not at all necessary to the progress of this history. Having made her, however, acquainted with the particulars of his visit to his father, he went to his mother's, and related to her all that had occurred. Poor thing, she was very differently interested in the issue of it! CHAPTER X SHOWING HOW GALGEXSfEIN AND MRS. CAT RECOGNISE EACH OTHER IN MARYLEBONE GARDENS— AND HOW THE COUNT DRIVES HER HOME IN HIS CARRIAGE ABOUT a month after the touching conversation aliove related, there was given, n,t Marylebone Gardens, a grand concert and ^ entertainment, at which the celebrated Madame Am^naide, a dancer of the theatre at Paris, was to perform, under the patron- age of several English and foreign noblemen ; among whom was his Excellency the Bavarian Envoy. Madame Am&aide was, in fact, no other than the maitresse en titre of the Monsieur de Galgenstein, who had her a great bargain from the Duke de Rohan-Chabot at Paris. It is not our purpose to make a great and learned display here, otherwise the costumes of the company assembled at this fete might afford scope for at least half-a-dozen pages of fine writing ; and we might give, if need were, specimens of the very songs and music sung on the occasion. Does not the Burney collection of music, at the British Museum, afford one an ample store of songs from which to choose'? Are there not the memoirs of Oolley Gibber'? those of Mrs. Clark, the daughter of Colley ? Is there not Con- greve, and Farquhar — nay, and at a pinch, the " Dramatic Bio- graphy," or even the Spectator, from which the observant genius might borrow passages, and construct pretty antiquarian figments % Leave we these trifles to meaner souls ! Our business is not with the breeches and periwigs, with the hoops and patches, but with the divine hearts of men, and the passions which agitate them. What need, therefore, have we to say that on this evening, after the dancing, the music, and the fireworks, Monsieur de Galgenstein felt the strange and welcome pangs of appetite, and was picking a cold chicken, along with some other friends in an arbour — a cold chicken, with an accompaniment of a bottle of champagne — when he was led to remark that a very handsome plump little person, in a gorgeous stiff damask gown and petticoat, was sauntering up and down the walk running opposite his supping-place, and bestowing continual glances towards his Excellency. The lady, whoever she THE COUNT AT MARYLEBONE GARDENS 633 was, was in a mask, such as ladies of high and low fashion wore at public places in those days, and had a male companion. He was a lad of only seventeen, marvellously well dressed — indeed, no other than the Count's own son, Mr. Thomas Billings ; who had at length received from his mother the silver-hilted sword, and tjie wig, which that affectionate parent had promised to him. In the course of the month which had elapsed since the interview that has been described in the former chapter, Mr. Billings had several times had occasion to wait on his father; but though he had, according to her wishes, frequently alluded to the existence of his mother, the Count had never at any time expressed the slightest wish to renew his acquaintance with that lady : who, if she had seen him, had only seen him by stealth. The fact is, that after Billings had related to her the particulars of his first meeting with his Excellency, which ended, like many of the latter visits, in nothing at all, Mrs. Hayes had found some pressing business, which continually took her to Whitehall, and had been prowling from day to day about Monsieur de Galgenstein's lodgings. Four or five times in the week, as his Excellency stepped into his coach, he might have remarked, had he chosen, a woman in a black hood, who was looking most eagerly into his eyes : but those eyes had long since left off the practice of observing ; and Madam Catherine's visits had so far gone for nothing. On this night, however, inspired by gaiety and drink, the Count had been amazingly stricken by the gait and ogling of the lady in the mask. The Reverend O'Flaherty, who was with him, and had observed the figure in the black cloak, recognised, or thought he recognised her. "It is the woman who dogs your Excellency every day," said he. " She is with that tailor lad who loves to see people hanged — your Excellency's son, I mean." And he Was just about to warn the Count of a conspiracy evidently made against him, and that the sou had brought, most likely, the mother to play her arts upon him — he was just about, I say, to show to the Count the folly and danger of renewing an old liaison with a woman such as he had described Mrs. Cat to be, when his Excellency, starting up, and interrupting his ghostly adviser at the very beginning of his sentence, said, " Egad, I'Abb^, you are right — it is my son, and a mighty smarHooking creature with him. Hey ! Mr. What's-your- name — Tom, you rogue, -don't yqu know your own father 1 " And so saying, and cocking his beaver on one side, Monsieur de Galgen- stein strutted jauntily after Mr. Billings and the lady. It was the first time that the Count had formally recognised his son. "Tom, you rogue," stopped at this, and the Count came up. 634 CATHERINE: A STOKY He had a wliite velvet suit, covered over with stars and orders, a neat modest wig and bag, and peach-coloured silk stockings with silver clasps. The lady in the mask gave a start as his Excellency came, forward. "Law, mother, don't squeege so," said Tom. The poor woman was trembling in every limb ; but she had presence of mind to " squeege " Tom a great deal harder ; and the latter took the hint, I suppose, and was silent. The splendid Count came up. Ye gods, how his embroidery glittered in the lamps ! What a royal exhalation of musk and bergamot came from his wig, his handkerchief, and his grand lace rufBes and frills ! A broad yellow riband passed across his breast, and ended at his hip in a shining diamond cross — a diamond cross, and a diamond sword-hilt ! Was anything ever seen so beautiful ? And might not a poor woman tremble when such a noble creature drew near to her, and deigned, from the height of his rank and splendour, to look down upon her 1 As Jove came down to Semele in state, in his habits of ceremony, with all the grand cordons of his orders blazing about his imperial person — thus dazzling, magnificent, triumphant, the gi'eat Galgenstein descended towards Mrs. Catherine. Her cheeks glowed red-hot under her coy velvet mask, her heart thumped against the whalebone prison of her stays. What a delicious storm of vanity was raging in her bosom ! What a rush of long-pent recollections burst forth at the sound of that enchanting voice ! As you wind up a hundred-guinea chronometer with a twopenny watch-key — as by means of a dirty wooden plug you set all the waters of Versailles a-raging, and splashing, and storming — in like manner, and by like humble agents, were Mrs. Catherine's tumul- tuous passions set going. The Count, we have said, slipped up to his sou, and merely saying, " How do, Tom 1 " cut the young gentleman altogether, and passing round to the lady's side, said, " Madam, 'tis a charming evening — egad it is ! " She almost fainted : it was the old voice. There he was, after seventeen years, once more at her side ! Now I know what I could have done. I can turn out a quota- tion from Sophocles (by looking to the index) as well as another : I can throw olf a bit of fine writing, too, with passion, similes, and a moral at the end. What, pray, is the last sentence but one but the very finest writing 1 Suppose, for example, I had made Maxi- milian, as he stood by the side of Catherine, look up towards the clouds, and exclaim, in the words of the voluptuous Cornelius Nepos — 'ApdQfiev ipavepal Apoaepav tj>v(ji.v emyt]Toi, k. t. \ THE COUNT'S SPEECH 635 Or suppose, again, I had said, in a style still more popular : — The Count advanced towards the maiden. They both were mute for a while ; and only the beating of her heart interrupted that thrilling and passionate silence. Ah, what years of buried joys and fears, hopes and disappointments, arose from their graves in the far past, and in those brief moments flitted before the united ones ! How sad was that delicious retrospect, and oh, how sweet ! The tears that rolled down the cheek of each were bubbles from the choked and moss-grown wells of youth ; the sigh that heaved each bosom had some lurking odours in it — memories of the fragrance of boy- hood, echoes of the hymns of the young heart ! Thus is it ever — for these blessed recollections the soul always has a place; and while crime perishes, and sorrow is forgotten, the beautiful alone is eternal. " golden legends, written in the skies ! " mused De Galgenstein, " ye shine as ye did in the olden days ! We change, but ye speak ever the same language. Gazing in your abysmal depths, the feeble ratiocl " There, now, are six columns * of the best writing to be found in this or any other book. Galgenstein has quoted Euripides thrice, Plato once, Lycophron nine times, besides extracts from the Latin syntax and the minor Greek poets. Catherine's passionate em- breathings are of the most fashionable order ; and I call upon the ingenious critic of the X newspaper to say whether they do not possess the real impress of the giants of the olden time — the real Platonic smack, in a word 1 Not that I want in the least to show off; but it is as well, every now and then, to show the public what one can do. Instead, however, of all this rant and nonsense, how much finer is the speech that the Count really did make 1 " It is a very fine evening, — egad it is ! " The "egad" did the whole business : Mrs. Cat was as much in love with him now as ever she had been ; and, gathering up all her energies, she said, " It is dreadful hot too, I think ; " and with this she made a curtsey. " Stifling, split me 1 " added his Excellency. " What do you * There were six columns, as mentioned by the accurate Mr. Solomons ; but we have withdrawn two pages and three-quarters, because, although our correspondent has been excessively eloquent, according to custom, we were anxious to come to the facts of the story. Mr. Solomons, by sending to our office, may have the cancelled passages. -0. Y. 636 CATHERINE: A STORY say, madam, to a rest in an arbour, and a drink of something cool?" " Sir ! " said the lady, drawing back. "Oh, a drink — a drink by all means," exclaimed Mr. Billings, who was troubled with a perpetual thirst. " Come, mo , Mrs. Jones, I mean : you're fond of a glass of cold punch, you know ; and the rum here is prime, I can tell you." The lady in the mask consented with some difficulty to the proposal of Mr. Billings, and was led by the two gentlemen into an arbour, where she wafe seated between them ; and some wax-candles being lighted, punch was brought. She drank one or two glasses very eagerly, and so did her two companions ; although it was evident to see, from the flushed looks of both of them, that they had little need of any such stimulus. The Count, in the midst of his champagne, it must be said, had been amazingly stricken and scandalised by the appearance of such a youth as Billings in a public place with a lady vmder his arm. He was, the reader will therefore understand, in the moral stage of liquor ; and when he issued out, it was not merely with the intention of examining Mr. Billings's female companion, but of administering to him some sound correction for venturing, at his early period of life, to form any such acquaintances. On joining Billings, his Excellency's first step was naturally to examine the lady. After they had been sitting for a while over their punch, he bethought him of his original purpose, and began to address a number of moral remarks to his son. We have already given some specimens of Monsieur de Galgen- stein's sober conversation ; and it is hardly necessary to trouble the reader with any further reports of his speeches. They were intoler- ably stupid and duU; as egotistical as his morning lecture had been, and a hundred times more rambling and prosy. If Cat had been in the possession of her sober senses, she would have seen in five minutes that her ancient lover was a ninny, and have left him with scorn ; but she was under the charm of old recollections, and the sound of that silly voice was to her magical. As for Mr. Billings, he allowed his Excellency to continue his prattle; only frowning, yawning, cursing occasionally, but drinking continually. So the Count descanted at length upon the enormity of youn^ Billings's early liaisons ; and then he told his own, in the year fom-, with a burgomaster's daughter at Ratisbon, when he was in the Elector of Bavaria's service— then, after Blenheim, when he had come over to the Duke of Mariborough, when a physician's wife at Bonn poisoned herself for him, &c. &c. ; of a piece with the story of the canoness, which has been recorded before. All the tales were THE TRIO IN THE ARBOUR 637 true. A clever, ugly man every now anrl then is successful with the ladies ; but a handsome fool is irresistible. Mrs. Cat listened and hstened. Good heavens ! she had heard all these tales before, and recollected the place and the time — how she was hemming a handkerchief for Max ; who came round and kissed her, vowing that the physician's wife was nothing compared to her — how he was tired, and lying on the sofa, just come home from shooting. How handsome he looked ! Cat thought he was only the handsomer now ; and looked more grave and thoughtful, the dear fellow ! The garden was filled with a vast deal of company of all kinds, and parties were passing every moment before the arbour where our trio sat. About half-an-hour after his Excellency had quitted his own box and party, the Rev. Mr. O'Flaherty came discreetly round, to examine tlie proceedings of his diplomatical chef. The lady in the mask was listening with all her might ; Mr. Billings was drawing figures on the table with punch ; and the Count talking incessantly. The Father Confessor listened for a moment; and then, with something resembling an oath, walked away to the entry of the gardens, where his Excellency's gilt coach, with three footmen, was waiting to carry him back to London. " Get me a chair, Joseph," said his Reverence, who infinitely preferred a seat gratis in the coach. "That fool," muttered he, "will not move for this hour." The reverend gentleman knew that, when the Count was on the subject of the physician's wife his discourses were intolerably long; and took upon himself, therefore, to disappear, along with the rest of the Count's party ; who procured other con- veyances, and returned to their homes. After this quiet shadow had passed before the Count's box, many groups of persns passed and repassed; and among them was no other than Mrs. Polly Briggs, to whom we have been already introduced. Mrs. Polly was in company with one or two other ladies, and leaning on the arm of a gentleman with large shoulders and calves, a fierce cook to his hat, and a shabby-genteel ah-. His name was Mr. Moffat, and his present occupation was that of doorkeeper at a gambling-house in Covent Garden ; where, though he saw many thousands pass daily under liis eyes, his own salary amounted to no more than four-and-sixpence weekly, — a sum quite insufficient to maintain him in the rank which he held. Mr. Moffat had, however, received some funds — amounting, indeed, to a matter of twelve guineas— within the last month, and was treating Mrs. Briggs very generously to the concert. It may be as well to say that every one of the twelve guineas had come out of Mrs. Polly's own pocket; who, in return, had received them from Mr. Billings. And as the reader fnay remember 638 CATHERINE: A STORY that, on the day of Tommy's first interview with his father, he had previously paid a visit to Mrs. Briggs, having under his arm a pair of breeches, which Mrs. Briggs coveted — he should now be informed that she desired these breeches, not for pincushions, but for Mr. Moffat, who had long been in want of a pair. Having thus episodically narrated Mr. Moffat's history, let us state that he, his lady, and their friends, passed before the Count's arbour, joining in a melodious chorus to a song which one of the society, an actor of Betterton's, was singing : — " 'Tis my will, when I'm dead, that no tear shall be shed, No ' Hie jaoet ' be graved on my stone ; But pour o'er my ashes a bottle of red, And say a good fellow is gone, My brave boys ! And say a good fellow is gone." " My brave boys " was given with vast emphasis by the party ; Mr. Moffat gi-owling it in a rich bass, and Mrs. Briggs in a soaring treble. As to the notes, when quavering up to the skies, they excited various emotions among the people in the gardens. " Silence them blackguards ! " shouted a barber, .who wa.s taking a pint of small-beer along with his lady. " Stop that there infernal screech- ing ! " said a couple of ladies, who were sipping ratafia in company with two pretty fellows. "Dang it, it's Polly!" said Mr. Tom Billings, bolting out of the box, and rushing towards the sweet-voiced Mrs. Briggs. When he reached her, which he did quickly, and made his arrival known by tipping Mrs. Briggs slightly on the waist, and suddenly bouncing down before her and her friend, both of the latter drew back some- what startled. " Law, Mr. BiUings ! " says Mrs. Polly, rather coolly, " is it you t Who thought of seeing you here ? " " Who's this here young feller 1 " says towering Mr. Mofiat, with his bass voice. " It's Mr. BiUings, cousin, a friend of mine," said Mrs. PoUy beseechingly. " Oh, cousin, if it's a friend of yours, he should know better how to conduct himself, that's all. Har you a dancing-master, young feller, that you cut them there capers before gentlemen?" . growled Mr. Moffat ; who hated Mr. Billings, for the excellent reason that he lived upon him. " Dancing-master be hanged ! " said Mr. BilHngs, with becoming spirit ; " if you call me dancing-master, I'll pull your nose." "What!" roared Mr. Moffat, "puU my nose? My nose! MR. BILLINGS LOSES HIS SWOED 639 I'll tell you what, my lad, if you durst move me, I'll cut your throat, curse me ! " " Oh, Moffy — cousin, I mean — 'tis a shame to treat the poor boy so. Go away, Tommy; do go away; my cousin's in liquor," whimpered Madam Briggs, who really thought that the great door- keeper would put his threat into execution. " Tommy ! " said Mr. Moffat, frowning horribly ; " Tommy to me too 1 Dog, get out of my ssss " sight was the word which Mr. Mofifat intended to utter ; but he was interrupted ; for, to the astonishment of his friends and himself, Mr. Billings did actually make a spring at the monster's nose, and caught it so firmly, that the latter could not finish his sentence. The operation was performed with amazing celerity ; and having concluded it, Mr. Billings sprang back, and whisked from out its sheath that new silver-hilted sword which his mamma had given him. " Now," said he, with a fierce kind of calmness, " now for the throat-cutting, cousin : I'm your man ! " How the brawl might have ended, no one can say, had the two gentlemen actually crossed swords ; but Mrs. Polly, with a wonder- ful presence of mind, restored peace by exclaiming, " Hush, hush ! the beaks, the beaks ! " Upon which, with one common instinct, the whole party made a rush for the garden gates, and disappeared into the fields. Mrs. Briggs knew her company : there was some- thing in the very name of a constable which sent them all a-flying. After running a reasonable time, Mr. Billings stopped. But the great Moflfat was nowhere to be seen, and Polly Briggs had likewise vanished. Then Tom bethought him that he would go back to his mother ; but, arriving at the gate of the gardens, was refused admittance, as he had not a shilling in his pocket. "I've left," says Tommy, giving himself the airs of a getntleman, " some friends in the gardens. I'm with his Excellency the Bavarian henvy." "Then you had better go away with him," said the gate people.- "But I tell you I left him there, in the grand circle, with a lady: and, what's more, in the dark walk, I have left a silver- hilted sword." " Oh, my Lord, I'll go and tell him then," cried one of the ■porters, "if you vriU wait." Mr. Billings seated himself on a post near the gate, and there consented to remain until the return of his messenger. The latter went straight to the dark walk, and found the sword, sure enough. But, instead of returning it to its owner, this discourteous knight broke the trenchant blade at the hilt ; and flinging the steel away, pocketed the baser silver metal, and lurked off by the private door consecrated to the waiters and fiddlers. 640 CATHERINE: A STORY " In the meantime, Mr. Billings waited and waited. And what was the conversation of his worthy parents inside the garden 1 I cannot say ; but one of the waiters declared that lie had served the great foreign Count with two bowls of rack-punch, and some biscuits, in No. 3 : that in the box with him were first a young gentleman, who went away, and a lady, splendidly dressed and masked : that when the lady and his Lordship were alone, she edged away to the further end of the table, and they had much talk : that at last, when his Grace had pressed her very much,- she took off her mask and said, "Don't you know me now. Max?" that he cried out " My own Catherine, thou art more beautiful than ever ! " and wanted to kneel down and vow eternal love to her ; but she begged him not to do so in a place where all the world would see : that then his Highness paid, and they left the gardens, the lady putting on her mask again. When they issued from the gardens, " Ho ! Joseph la Rose, my coach ! " shouted his Excellency, in rather a husky voice ; and the men who had been waiting came up with the carriage. A young gentleman, who was dozing on one of the posts at the entry, woke up suddenly at the blaze of the torches and the noise of the footmen. The Count gave his arm to the lady in the mask, who slipped in ; and he was whispering La Rose, when the lad who had been sleeping hit his Excellency on the shoulder, and said, " I say. Count, you can give me a cast home too," and jumped into the coach. When Catherine saw her son, she threw herself into his arms, and kissed him with a burst of hysterical tears ; of which Mr. BilUngs was at a loss to understand the meaning. The Count joined them, looking not a little disconcerted ; and the pair were landed at their own door, where stood Mr. Hayes, in his nightcaji, ready to receive them, and astounded at the splendour of the equi- page in which his wife returned to him. CHAPTER XI OF SOME DOMESTIC QUARRELS, AND THE CONSEQUENCE THEREOF K N ingenious magazine-writer, who lived in the time of Mr. Brock and the Duke of Marlborough, compared the latter gentle- man's conduct in battle, when he " In peaceful thought the field of death surveyed, To fainting squadrons lent the timely aid ; Inspired repulsed hattalions to engage, And taught the doubtful battle where to rage " Mr. Joseph Addison, I say, compared the Duke of Marlborough to an angel, who is sent by Divine command to chastise a guilty people — " And pleased his Master's orders to perform, Rides on the whirlwind, and directs the storm. " The first four of these novel lines touch oif the Duke's disposition and genius to a tittle. He had a love for such scenes of strife : in the midst of them his spirit rose calm and supreme, soaring (like an angel or not, but anyway the compliment is a very pretty one) on the battle-clouds majestic, and causing to ebb or to flow the mighty tide of war. But as this famous simile might apply with equal propriety to a bad angel as to a good one, it may in like manner be employed to illustrate small quarrels as weU as great — a little family squabble, in which two or three people are engaged, as weU as a vast national dispute, argued on each side by the roaring throats of five hundred angry cannon'. The poet means, in fact, that the Duke of Marl- borough had an immense genius for mischief. Our friend Brock, or Wood (whose actions we love to illustrate by the very handsomest similes), possessed this genius in common with his Grace ; and was never so happy, or seen to so much advan- tage, as when he was employed in setting people by the ears. His spirits, usually dull, then rose into the utmost gaiety and good- humour. When the doubtful battle flagged, he by his art would instantly restore it. When, for instance, Tom's repulsed battalions 4 2 s 64,2 CATHEEINE: A STORY of rhetoric fled from his mamma's fire, a few words of apt sneer or encouragemeut on Wood's part would bring the fight round again ; or when Mr. Hayes's fainting squadrons of abuse broke upon the stubborn squares of Tom's bristling obstinacy, it was Wood's delight to rally tlie former, and bring him once more to the charge. A great share had this man in making those bad people worse. Many fierce words and bad passions, many falsehoods and knaveries on Tom's part, much bitterness, scorn, and jealousy on the part of Hayes and Catherine, might be attributed to this hoary old tempter, whose joy and occupation it was to raise and direct the domestic storms and whirlwinds of the family of which he was a member. And do not let us be accused of an undue propensity to use sounding words, because we compare three scoundrels in the Tyburn Road to so many armies, and Mr. Wood to a mighty field-marshal. My dear sir, wlien you have well studied the world — how supremely great the meanest thing in this world is, and how infinitely mean the greatest — I am mistaken if you do not make a strange and proper jumble of the sublime and the ridiculous, the lofty and the low. I have looked at the world, for my part, and come to the conclusion that I know not which is which. Well, then, on the night when Mrs. Hayes, as recorded by us, had been to the Marylebone Gardens, Mr. Wood had found the sincerest enjoyment in plying her husband with drink; so that, when Catherine arrived at home, Mr. Hayes came forward to meet her in a manner which showed he was not only surly, but drunk. Tom stepped out of the coach first ; and Hayes asked him, with an oath, where he had been 1 The oath Mr. Bilhngs sternly flung back again (with another in its company), and at the same time refused to give his stepfather any sort of answer to his query. " The old man is drunk, mother," said he to Mrs. Hayes, as he handed that lady out of the coach (before leaving which she had to withdraw her hand rather violently from the grasp of the Count, who was inside). Hayes instantly showed the correctness of his surmise by slamming the door courageously in Tom's face, when he attempted to enter the house with his mother. And when Mrs. Catherine remonstrated, according to her wont, in a very angry and supercilious tone, Mr. Hayes replied with equal haughtiness, and a regular quarrel ensued. People were accustomed in those days to use much more simple and expressive terms of language than are now thought polite ; and it would be dangerous to give, in this present year 1840, the exact words of reproach which passed between Hayes and his wife in 1726. Mr. Wood sat near, laughing his sides out. Mr. Hayes swore that his wife should not go abroad to tea-gardens in search of A MATRIMONIAL FRACAS 643 vile Popish noblemen ; to which Mrs. Hayes replied, that Mr. Hayes was a pitiful, lying, sneaking cm-, and that she would go where she pleased. Mr. Hayes rejoined that if she said much more he would take a stick to her. Mr. Wood whispered, " And serve her right." Mrs. Hayes thereupon swore she had stood his cowardly blows once or twice before, but that if ever he did so again, as sure as slie was born, she would stab him. Mr. Wood said, " Curse me, but I like her spirit." Mr. Hayes took another line of argument, and said, "The neighbours would talk, madam." " Ay, that they -nill, no doubt," said Mr. Wood. "Then let them," said Catherine. "What do we care about the neighbours 1 Didn't the neighbours talk when you sent Widow WUkins to gaol ? Didn't the neighbours talk when you levied on poor old Thomson'? You didn't mind then, Mr. Hayes." " Business, ma'am, is business ; and if I did distrain on Thomson, and lock up Wilkins, I think you knew about it as much as I." "I' faith, I believe you're a pair," said Mr. Wood. "Pray, sir, keep your tongue to yourself Your opinion isn't asked anyhow — no, nor your company wanted neither," cried Mrs. Catherine, with proper spirit. At which remark Mr. Wood only whistled. " I have asked this here gentleman to pass this evening along with me. We've been drinking together, ma'am." " That we have," said Mr. Wood, looking at Mrs. Cat with the most perfect good-humour. " I say, ma'am, that we've been a-drinking together ; and when we've been a-drinkiag together, I say that a man is my friend. Doctor Wood is my friend, madam — the Reverend Doctor Wood. We've passed the evening in company, talking about politics, madam — politics and riddle-iddle-igion. We've not been ilaunting in tea- gardens, and ogling the men." " It 's a lie ! " shrieked Mrs. Hayes. " I went with Tom — you know I did : the boy wouldn't let me rest till I promised to go." " Hang him, I hate him," said Mr. Hayes : " he's always in my way." " He's the only friend I have in the world, and the only being I care a pin for," said Catherine. " He 's an impudent idle good-for-nothing scoundrel, and I hope to see him hanged ! " shouted Mr. Hayes. " And pray, madam, whose carriage was that as you came home in 1 I warrant you paid something for the ride — ha, ha ! " " Another he ! " screamed Oat, and clutched hold of a supper- knife. "Say it again, John Hayes, and, by , I'll do for you." 644. CATHERINE: A STORY "Do for me? Hang me," said Mr. Hayes, flourishing a stick, and perfectly pot-valiant, " do you think I care for a bastard and He did not finish the sentence, for the woman ran at him like a savage, knife in hand. He bounded back, ilinging his arms about wildly, and struck her with his staff sharply across the forehead. The woman went down instantly. A lucky blow was it for Hayes and her : it saved him from death, perhaps, and her from murder. All this scene — a very important one of our drama — might have been described at much greater length ; but, in truth, the author has a natural horror of dwelling too long upon such hideous spectacles : nor would the reader be much edified by a full and accurate know- ledge of what took place. The quarrel, however, though not more violent than many that had previously taken place between Hayes and his wife, was about to cause vast changes in the condition of this unhappy pair. Hayes was at the first moment of his victory very much alarmed ; he feared that he had killed the woman; and Wood started up rather anxiously too, with the same fancy. But she soon began to recover. Water was brought ; her head was raised and boimd up ; and in a short time Mrs. Catherine gave vent to a copious fit of tears, which relieved her somewhat. These did not afiect Hayes much — they rather pleased him, for he saw he had got the better ; and although Cat fiercely turned upon him when he made some small attempt towards reconciliation, he did not heed her anger, but smiled and winked in a self-satisfied way at Wood. The coward was quite proud of his victory ; and finding Catherine asleep, or apparently so, when he followed her to bed, speedily gave himself up to slumber too, and had some pleasant dreams to his portion. Mr. Wood also went sniggering and happy up-stairs to his chamber. The quarrel had been a real treat to him ; it excited the old man — tickled him into good-humour ; and he promised himself a rare continuation of the fun when Tom should be made acquainted with the circumstances of the dispute. As for his Excellency the Count, the ride from Marylebone Gardens, and a tender squeeze of the hand, which Catherine permitted to him on parting, had so inflamed the passions of the nobleman, that, after sleeping for nine hours, and taking his chocolate as usual the next morning, he actually delayed to read the newspaper, and kept waiting a toy-shop lady from Cornhill (with the sweetest bargain of Mechlin lace) in order to discourse to his chaplain on the charms of Mrs. Hayes. She, poor thing, never closed her lids, except when she would have had Mr. Hayes imagine that she slumbered ; but lay beside MKS. HAYES'S TRAIN OF EEASONING 645 him, tossing and tumbling, with hot eyes wide open, and heart thumping, and pulse of a hundred and ten, and heard the heavy- hours tolling ; and at last the day came peering, haggard, through the window-curtains, and found her still wakeful and wretched. Mrs. Hayes had never been, as we have seen, especially fond of her lord ; but now, as the day made visible to her the sleeping figure and countenance of that gentleman, she looked at him with a con- tempt and loathing such as she had never felt even in all the years of her wedded life. Mr. Hayes was snoring profoundly : by his bedside, on his ledger, stood a large greasy tin candestick, containing a lank tallow-candle, turned down in the shaft ; and in the lower part, his keys, purse, and tobacco-pipe ; his feet were huddled up in his greasy threadbare clothes ; his head and half his sallow face muffled up in a red woollen nightcap ; his beard was of several days' growth ; his mouth was wide open, and he was snoring profoundly : on a more despicable little creature the sun never shone. And to this sordid wretch was Catherine united for ever. What a pretty rascal history might be read in yonder greasy day-book, which never left the miser ! — he never read in any other. Of what a treasure were yonder keys and purse the keepers ! not a shilling they guarded but was picked from the pocket of necessity, plundered from needy wantonness, or pitilessly squeezed from starvation. " A fool, a miser, and a coward ! Why was I bound to this wretch 1 " thought Catherine : " I, who am high-spirited and beautiful (did not he tell me so ?) ; I who, bom a beggar, have raised myself to competence, and might have mounted: — who knows whither? — if cursed Fortune had not balked me ! " As Mrs. Cat did not utter these sentiments, but only thought them, we have a right to clothe her thoughts in the genteelest possible language ; and, to the best of our power, have done so. If the reader examines Mrs. Hayes's train of reasoning, he will not, we should think, fail to perceive how ingeniously she managed to fix aU the wrong upon her husband, and yet to twist out some con- solatory arguments for her own vanity. This perverse argumentation we have all of us, no doubt, employed in our time. How often have we, — we poets, politicians, philosophers, family-men, — found charming excuses for our own rascalities in the monstrous wickedness of the world about us ; how loudly have we abused the times and our neighbours ! All this devil's logic did Mrs. Catherine, lying wakeful in her bed on the night of the Marylebone fete, exert in gloomy triumph. It must, however, be confessed, that nothing could be more just than Mrs. Hayes's sense of her husband's scoundrelism and meanness ; for if we have not proved these in the course of this history, we have 646 CATHERINE: A STORY proved nothing. Mrs. Cat had a shrewd observing mind ; and if she wanted for proofs against Hayes, she had but to look before and about her to find them. This amiable pair were lying in a large walnut-bed, with faded silk furniture, which had been taken from under a respectable old invalid widow, who had become security for a prodigal son ; the room was hung round with an antique tapestry (representing Rebecca at the Well, Bathsheba Bathing, Judith and Holofernes, and other subjects from Holy Writ), which had been many score times sold for fifty pounds, and bought back by Mr. Hayes for two, in those accommodating bargains which he made with young gentlemen, who received fifty pounds of money and fifty of tapestry in consideration of their hundred-pound bills. Against this tapestry, and just cutting off Holofernes's head, stood an enormous ominous black clock, the spoil of some other usurious transaction. Some chairs, and a dismal old black cabinet, completed the furniture of this apartment : it wanted but a ghost to render its gloom complete. Mrs. Hayes sat up in the bed sternly regarding her husband. There is, be sure, a strong magnetic influence in wakeful eyes so examining a sleeping person (do not you, as a boy, remember waking of bright summer mornings and finding your mother looking over you ? had not the gaze of her tender eyes stolen into your senses long before you woke, and cast over your slumbering spirit a sweet spell of peace, and love, and fresh-springing joy ?). Some such influence had Catherine's looks upon her husband : for, as he slept under them, the man began to writhe about uneasily, and to burrow his head in the pillow, and to utter quick, strange moans and cries, such as have often jarred one's ear while watching at the bed of the feverish sleeper. It was just upon six, and presently the clock began to utter those dismal grinding sounds, which issue from clocks at such periods, and which sound like the death-rattle of the departing hour. Then the bell struck the knell of it ; and with this Mr. Hayes awoke, and looked up, and saw Catheriue gazing at him. Their eyes met for an instant, and Catherine turned away, burn- ing red, and looking as if she had been caught in the commission of a crime. A kind of blank terror seized upon old Hayes's soul : a horrible icy fear, and presentiment of coming evil ; and yet the woman had but looked at him. He thought rapidly over the occurrences of the last night, the quarrel, and the end of it. He had often struck her before when angry, and heaped all kinds of bitter words upon her; but, in the morning, she bore no mahce, and the previous quarrel was forgotten, or, at least, passed over. Why should the last night's dispute not have the same end ? Hayes calculated all this, and tried to smile. AN ABODE OF THE FUKIES 647 " I hope we're friends, Cat f " said he. " You know I was in liquor last night, and sadly put out by the loss of that fifty pound. They'll ruin me, dear— I know they will." Mrs. Hayes did not answer. " I should like to see the country again, dear," said he, in his most wheedling way. " I've a mind, do you know, to call in aU our money ? It's you who've made every farthing of it, that's sure ; and it's a matter of two thousand pound by this time. Suppose we go into Warwickshire, Cat, and buy a farm, and live genteel. Shouldn't you like to live a lady in your own county again ? How they'd stare at Birmingham ! hey. Cat t " And with this Mr. Hayes made a motion as if he would seize his wife's hand, but she flung his back again. " Coward ! " said she, " you want liquor to give you courage, and then you've only heart enough to strike women." " It was only in self-defence, my dear," said Hayes, .whose courage had aU gone. " You tried, you know, to — to " " To stab you, and I wish I had ! " said Mrs. Hayes, setting her teeth, and glaring at him like a demon; and so saying, she sprung out of bed. There was a great stain of blood on her pillow. " Look at it," said she. " That blood's of your shedding ! " and at this Hayes fairly began to weep, so utterly downcast and frightened was the miserable man. The wretch's tears only in- spired his wife -nith a still greater rage and loathing; she cared not so much for the blow, but she hated the man : the man to whom she was tied for ever — for ever ! The bar between her and wealth, happiness, love, rank perhaps. " If I were free," thought Mrs. Hayes (the thought had been sitting at her pillow aU night, and whispering ceaselessly into her ear) — "If I were free. Max would marry me ; I know he would : — he said so yesterday ! " As if by a kind of intuition, old Wood seemed to read aU this woman's thoughts; for he said that day with a sneer, that he would wager she was thinking how much better it would be to be a Count's lady than a poor miser's wife. " And faith," said he, " a Count and a chariot-and-six is better than an old skinflint with a cudgel." And then he asked her if her head was better, and supposed that she was used to beating ; and cut sundry other jokes, which made the poor wretch's wounds of mind and body feel a thousand times sorer. Tom, too, was made acquainted with the dispute, and swore his accustomed vengeance against his stepfather. Such feelings. Wood, with a dexterous malice, would never let rest ; it was his joy, at first quite a disinterested one, to goad Catherine and to 648 CATHERINE: A STOEY frighten Hayes : though, in truth, that unfortunate creature had no occasion for incitements from without to keep up the dreadful state of terror and depression into which he had fallen. For, from the morning after the quarrel, the horrible words and looks of Catherine never left Hayes's memory; but a cold fear followed him — a dreadful prescience. He strove to overcome this fate as a coward would — to kneel to it for compassion — to coax and wheedle it into forgiveness. He was slavishly gentle to Catherine, and bore her fierce taunts with mean resignation. He trembled before young Billings, who was now established in the house (his mother said, to protect her against the violence of her husband), and suffered his brutal language and conduct without venturing to resist. The young man and his mother lorded over the house : Hayes hardly dared to speak in their presence ; seldom sat with the family except at meals ; but shpped away to his chamber (he slept apart now from his wife) or passed the evening at the public- house, where he was constrained to drink — to spend some of his beloved sixjiences for drink ! And, of course, the neighbours began to say, " John Hayes neglects his wife." " He tyrannises over her, and beats her." "Always at the public-house, leaving an honest woman alone at home ! " The unfortunate wretch did not hate his wife. He was used to her — fond of her as much as he could be fond — sighed to be friends with her again — repeatedly would creep, whimpering, to Wood's room, when the latter was alone, and begged him to bring about a reconciliation. They were reconciled, as much as ever they could be. The woman looked at him, thought what she might be but for him, and scorned and loathed him with a feehng that almost amounted to insanity. What nights she lay awake, weeping, and cursing herself and him ! His humility and beseeching looks only made him more despicable and hateful to her. If Hayes did not hate the mother, however, he hated the boy — hated and feared him dreadfully. He would have poisoned him if he had had the courage ; but he dared not : he dared not even look at him as he sat there, the master of the house, in insolent triumph. God ! how the lad's brutal laughter rung in Hayes's ears ; and how the stare of his fierce bold black eyes pursued him ! Of a truth, if Mr. Wood loved mischief, as he did, honestly and purely for mischiefs sake, he had enough here. There was mean malice, and fierce scorn, and black revenge, and sinful desire, boiling up in the hearts of these wretched people, enough to content Mr. Wood's great master himself. HOUSEHOLD SPIES 649 Hayes's business, as we have said, was nominally that of a carpenter; but since, for the last few years, he had added to it that of a lender of money, the carpenter's trade had been neglected altogether for one so much more profitable. Mrs. Hayes had exerted herself, with much benefit to her husband, in his usurious business. She was a resolute, clear-sighted, keen woman, that did not love money, but loved to be rich and push her way in the world. She would have nothing to do with the trade now, how- ever, and told her husband to manage it himself. She felt that she was separated from him for ever, and could no more be brought to consider her interests as connected with his own. The man was well fitted for the creeping and niggling of his dastardly trade ; and gathered his moneys, and busied himself with his lawyer, and acted as his own bookkeeper and clerk, not without satisfaction. His wife's speculations, when they worked in concert, used often to frighten him. He never sent out his capital without a pang, and only because he dared not question her superior judgment and will. He began now to lend no more : he could not let the money out of his sight. His sole pleasure was to creep up into his room, and count and recount, it. When BiUings came into the house, Hayes had taken a room next to that of Wood. It was a protection to him ; for Wood would often rebuke the lad for using Hayes ill; and both Catherine and Tom treated the old man with deference. At last — ^it was after he had collected a good deal of his money — Hayes began to reason with himself, "Why should I stay? — stay to be insulted by that boy, or murdered by him? He is ready for any crime." He determined to fly. He would send Catherine money every year. No — she had the furniture ; let her let lodgings — that would support her. He would go, and live away, abroad in some cheap place — away from that boy and his horrible threats. The idea of freedom was agreeable to the poor wretch; and he began to wind up his affairs as quickly as he could. Hayes would now allow no one to make his bed or enter his room; and Wood could hear him through the panels fidgeting perpetually to and fro, opening and shutting of chests, and clinking of coin. At the least sound he would start up, and would go to Billings's door and listen. Wood used to hear him creeping through the passages, and returning stealthily to his own chamber. One day the woman and her son had been angrily taunting him in the presence of a neighbour. The neighbour retired soon ; and Hayes, who had gone with him to the door, heard, on returning, the voice of Wood in the parlour. The old man laughed in his 650 CATHERINE: A STOEY usual saturnine way, and said, " Have a care, Mrs. Cat ; for if Hayes were to die suddenly, by the laws, the neiglibours would accuse thee of his deatli." Hayes started as if he bad been shot. " He too is in the plot," thought he. " They are all leagued against me : they will kill me : they are only biding their time." Fear seized him, and he thought of flying that instant and leaving all ; and he stole into his room and gathered his money together. But only a half of it was there : in a few weeks all would have come in. He had not the heart to go. But that night Wood heard Hayes pause at his door, before he went to listen at Mrs. Catherine's. " What is the man thinking of?" said Wood. "He is gathering his money to- gether. Has he a hoard yonder unknown to us all ? " Wood thought he would watch him. There was a closet between the two rooms : Wood bored a hole in the panel, and peeped through. Hayes had a brace of pistols, and four or five little bags before him on the table. One of these he opened, and placed, one by one, five-and-twenty guineas into it. Such a sum had been due that day — Catherine spoke of it only in the morning ; for the debtor's name had by chance been mentioned in the conver- ^ sation Hayes commonly kept but a few guineas in the house. For what was he amassing all these 1 The next day. Wood asked for change for a twenty-pound bill. Hayes said he had but three guineas. And, when asked by Catherine where the money was that was paid the day before, said that it was at the banker's. "Tlie man is going to fly," said Wood; "that is sure: if he does, I know him — he will leave his wife without a shilling." He watched him for several days regularly : two or three more bags were added to the former number. " They are pretty things, guineas," thought Wood, "and tell no tales, like bank-bills." And he thought over the days when he and Macshane used to ride abroad in search of them. I don't know what thoughts entered into Mr. Wood's brain; but the next day, after seeing young Billings, to whom he actually made a present of a guinea, that young man, in conversing with his mother, said, " Do you know, mother, that if you were free, and married the Count, I should be a lord? It's the German law, Mr. Wood says; and you know he was in them countries with Marlborough." "Ay, that he would," said Mr. Wood, "in Germany: but Germany isn't England ; and it's no use talking of such things." "Hush, child!" said Mrs. Hayes, quite eagerly; "how can / marry the Count? Besides, a'n't I married, and isn't he too great a lord for me ? " MKS. CATHEKINE'S SECRET 651 "Too great a lord? — not a whit, mother. If it wasn't for Hayes, I might be a lord now. He gave me five guineas only last week; but curse the skinflint who never will part with a shilling." " It's not so bad as his striking your mother, Tom. I had my stick up, and was ready to fell him t'other night," added Mr. Wood. And herewith he smiled, and looked steadily in Mrs. Catherine's face. She dared not look again; but she felt that the old man knew a secret that she had been trying to hide from herself. Fool ! he knew it ; and Hayes knew it dimly : and never, never, since thut day of the gala, had it left her, sleeping or waking. When Hayes, in his fear, had proposed to sleep away from her, she started with joy : she had been afraid that she might talk in her sleep, and so let slip her horrible confession. Old Wood knew all her history since the period of the Maryle- bone fgte. He had wormed it out of her, day by day ; he had counselled her how to act ; warned her not to yield ; to procure, at least, a certain provision for her son, and a handsome settlement for herself, if she determined on quitting her husband. The old man looked on the business in a proper philosophical light, told her bluntly that he saw she was bent upon going off with the Count, and bade her take precautions : else she might be left as she had been before. Catherine denied all these charges ; but she saw the Count daUy, notwithstanding, and took all the measures which Wood had recom- mended to her. They were very prudent ones. Galgenstein grew hourly more in love : never had he felt such a flame ; not in the best days of his youth ; not for the fairest princess, coimtess, or actress, from Vienna to Paris. At length — it was the night after he had seen Hayes counting his money-bags — old Wood spoke to Mrs. Hayes very seriously. "That husband of yours. Cat," said he, "meditates some treason; ay, and fancies we are about such. He listens nightly at yoiu- door and at mine : he is going to leave you, be sure on't ; and if he leaves you, he leaves you to starve." " I can be rich elsewhere," said Mrs. Oat. "What, with Max?" " Ay, with Max : and why not 1 " said Mrs. Hayes. " Why not, fool ! Do you recollect Birmingham 1 Do you think that Galgenstein, who is so tender now because he hasn't won you, will be faithful because he has ? Psha, woman, men are not made so ! Don't go to him until you are sure : if you were a widow now, he would marry you ; but never leave yourself at his mercy : if you were to leave your husband to go to him, he would desert you in a fortnight ! " 652 CATHERINE: A STORY She might have been a Countess ! she knew she might, but for this cursed barrier between her and lier fortune. Wood Icnew what she was thinking of, and smiled grimly. " Besides," he continued, " remember Tom. As sure as you leave Hayes without some security from Max, the boy's ruined : he who might be a lord, if his mother had but Psha ! never mind ! that boy will go on the road, as sure as my name's Wood. He's a Turpin cock in his eye, my dear, — a regular Tyburn look. He knows too many of that sort already ; and is too fond of a bottle and a girl to resist and be honest when it comes to the pinch." "It's all true," said Mrs. Hayes. "Tom's a high mettlesome fellow, and would no more mind a ride on Hounslow Heath than he does a walk now in the Mall." "Do you want him hanged, my dear?" said Wood. "Ah, "Doctor!" " It is a pity, and that's sure," concluded Mr. Wood, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, and closing this interesting conversation. " It is a pity that that old skinflint should be in the way of both your fortunes ; and he about to fling you over, too ! " Mrs. Catherine retired musing, as Mr. Billings had previously done ; a sweet smile of contentment lighted up the venerable features of Doctor Wood, and he walked abroad into the streets as happy a fellow as any in London. A CHAPTER XII TREATS OF LOVE, AND PREPARES FOR DEATH ND to begin this chapter, we cannot do better than quote a part of a letter from M. I'Abb^ O'Flaherty to Madame la Comtesse de X at Paris : — " Madam, — The little Aiouet de Voltaire, who hath come 'hither to take a tm-n in England,' as I see by the Post of this morning, hath brought me a charming paequet from your Ladyship's hands, which ought to render a reasonable man happy ; but, alas ! makes your slave miserable. I think of dear Paris (and something more dear than aU Paris, of which, Madam, I may not venture to speak further) —I think of dear Paris, and find myself in this dismal Vitehall, where, when the fog clears up, I can catch a glimpse of muddy Thames, and of that fatal palace which the kings of England have been obliged to exchange for your noble castle of Saint Gerniains, that stands so stately by silver Seine. Truly, no bad bargain. For my part, I would give my grand ambassadorial saloons, hangings, gildings, feasts, valets, ambassadors and all, for a hicoque in sight of the Thuilleries' towers, or my little cell in the Irlandois. "My last sheets have given you a pretty notion of our ambassador's public doings ; now for a pretty piece of private scandal respecting that great man. Figure to yourself. Madam, his Excellency is in love ; actually in love, talking day and night about a certain fair one whom he hath picked out of a gutter ; who is well-nigh forty years old ; who was his mistress when he was in England a captain of dragoons, some sixty, seventy, or a hundred years since; who hath had a son by him, moreover, a sprightly lad, apprentice to a tailor of eminence that has the honour of making his Excellency's breeches. "Since one fatal night when he met this fair creature at a certain place of publique resort, called Marylebone Gardens, our Cyrus hath been an altered creature. Love hath mastered this brainless ambassador, and his antics afford me food for perpetual mirth. He sits now opposite to me at a table inditing a letter to 654 CATHERINE: A STORY liis Catherine, and copying it from — what do you think 1 — from the ' Grand Cyrus.' ' / sivear, madam, that my happiness waidd be to offer you this hand, as I have my heart long ago, and I beg you to bear in mind this declaration.' I have' just dictated to him the above tender words ; for our Envoy, I need not tell you, is not strong at writing or thinking. " The fair Catherine, I must tell you, is no less than a carpenter's wife, a well-to-do bourgeois, living at the Tyburn, or Gallows Road. She found out her ancient lover very soon after our arrival, and hath a marvellous hankering to be a Count's lady. A pretty little creature is this Madam Catherine. Billets, breakfasts, pretty walks, presents of silks and satins, pass daily between the pair ; hut, strange to say, the lady is as virtuous as Diana, and hath resisted all my Count's cajoleries hitherto. The poor fellow told me, with tears in his eyes, that he believed he should have carried her by storm on the very first night of their meeting, but that her son stepped into the way ; and he or somebody else hath been in the way ever since. Madam will never appear alone. I believe it is this wondrous chastity of the lady that has elicited this wondrous constancy of the gentleman. She is holding out for a settlement ; who knows if not for a marriage 1 Her husband, she says, is ailing ; her lover is fool enough, and she herself conducts her negotiations, as I must honestly own, with a pretty notion of diplomacy." This is the only part of the reverend gentleman's letter that directly affects this history. The rest contains some scandal con- cerning greater personages about the Court, a great share of abuse of the Elector of Hanover, and a pretty description of a boxing- match at Mr. Figg's amphitheatre in Oxford Road, wliere John Wells, of Edmund Bury (as by the papers may be seen), master of the noble science of self-defence, did engage with Edward Sutton, of Gravesend, master of the said science ; and the issue of the combat. " N.B." — adds the Father, in a postscript — "Monsieur Figue gives a hat to be cudgelled for before the Master mount ; and the whole of this fashionable information hath been given me by Monseigneur's son. Monsieur Billings, garpon-tailleur. Chevalier de Galgenstein." Mr. Billings was, in fact, a frequent visitor at the Ambassador's house ; to whose presence he, by a general order, was always admitted. As for the connection between Mrs. Catherine and her former admirer, the Abba's history of it is perfectly correct ; nor THE COUNT'S LETTEE TO CATHERINE 655 can it be said that this wretched woman, whose tale now begins to wear a darker hue, was, in anything but soul, faithless to her husband. But she hated him, longed to leave him, and loved another : the end was coming quickly, and every one of our un- knowing actors and actresses was to be implicated, more or less, in the catastrophe. It will be seen that Mrs. Cat had followed pretty closely the injunctions of Mr. Wood iu regard to her deahngs with the Count; who grew more heart-stricken and tender daily, as the completion of his wishes was delayed, and liis desires goaded' by contradiction. The Abb^ has quoted one portion of a letter written by him j here is the entire performance, extracted, as the holy father said, chiefly from the romance of the " Grand Cyrus " : — " Unhappy Maximilian unto unjust Catherina. " Madam, — It must needs be that I love you better than any ever did, since, notwithstanding your injustice in calling me per- fidious, I love you no less tlian I did before. On the contrary, my passion is so violent, and your unjust accusation makes me so sensible of it, that if you did but know the resentments of my soule, you would confess your selfe the most cruell and unjust woman in the world. You shall, ere long. Madam, see me at your feete ; and as you were my first passion, so you will be my last. " On my knees I will tell you, at the first handsom opportunity, that the grandure of my passion can only be equalled by your beauty ; it hath driven me to such a fatall necessity, as that I can- not hide the misery which you have caused. Sure, the hostil goddes have, to plague me, ordayned that fatal marridge, by which you are bound to one so infinitly below you in degree. Were that bond of ill-omind Hymen cut in twayn witch binds you, I swear. Madam, that my happiniss woulde be to offer you this hande, as I have my harte long agoe. And I praye you to beare in minde this declara- 9ion, which I here sign with my hande, and witch I pray you may one day be called upon to prove the truth on. Beleave me, Madam, that there is none in the world who doth more honor to your vertue than myselfe, nor who wishes your happinesse with more zeal than " Maximilian. " From my lodgings in Whitehall, this 25th of February. " To the incomparable Catherina^ these, with a scarlet satten petticoat/^ The Count had debated about the sentence promising marriage in event of Hayes's death ; but the honest Abb6 cut these scruples 656 OATHERIJ^B: A STORY very short, by saying, justly, that because he wrote in that manner, there was no need for him to act so ; that he had better not sign and address the note in full ; and that he presumed his Excellency was not quite so timid as to fancy that the woman would follow him all the way to Germany, when his diplomatic duties would be ended ; as they would soon. The receipt of this billet caused such a flush of joy and exulta- tion to unhappy happy Mrs. Catherine, that Wood did not fail to remark it, and speedily learned the contents of the letter. Wood had no need to bid the poor wretch guard it very carefully : it never from that day forth left her ; it was her title of nobility, — her pass to rank, wealth, happiness. She began to look down on her neighbours ; her manner to her husband grew more than ordinarily scornful ; the poor vain wretch longed to tell her secret, and to take her place openly in the world. She a Countess, and Tom a Count's son ! She felt that she should royally become the title ! About this time — and Hayes was very much frightened at the prevalence of the rumour — it suddenlj' began to be bruited about in this quarter that he was going to quit the country. The story was- in everybody's mouth ; people used to sneer when he turned pale, and wept, and passionately denied it. It was said, too, that Mrs. Hayes was not his wife, but his mistress — everybody had this story — his mistress, whom he treated most cruelly, and was about to desert. The tale of the blow which had feUed her to the ground was known in all quarters. When he declared that the woman tried to stab him, nobody believed him : the women said he would have been served right if she had done so. How had these stories gone abroad ? " Three days more, and I will fly," thought Hayes ; "and the world may say what it pleases." Ay, fool, fly — away so swiftly that Fate cannot overtake thee : hide so cunningly that Death shall not find thy place of refuge ! CHAPTER XIII BEING A PREPARATION FOR THE END THE reader, doubtless, doth now partly understand what dark acts of conspiracy are beginning to gather around Mr. Hayes ; and possibly hath comprehended — 1. That if the rumour was universally credited which declared that Mrs. Catherine was only Hayes's mistress, and not his wife. She might, if she so inclined, marry another person ; and thereby not injure her fame and excite wonderment, but actually add to her reputation. 2. That if all the world did steadfastly believe that Mr. Hayes intended to desert this woman, after having cruelly maltreated her. The direction which his journey might take would be of no consequence ; and he might go to Highgate, to Edinburgh, to Constantinople, nay, down a well, and no soul would care to ask whither he had gone. These points Mr. Hayes had not considered duly. The latter case had been put to him, and annoyed him, as we have seen ; the former had actually been pressed upon him by Mrs. Hayes herself; who, in almost the only communication she had had with him since their last quarrel, had asked him, angiily, in the presence of Wood and her son, whether he had dared to utter such lies, and how it came to pass that the neighbours looked scornfully at her, and avoided her ? To this charge Mr. Hayes pleaded, very meekly, that he was not guilty ; and young Billings, taking him by the collar, and clinching his fist in his face, swore a dreadful oath that he would have the life of him if he dared abuse his mother. Mrs. Hayes then spoke of the general report abroad, that he was going to desert her ; which, if he attempted to do, Mr. Billings vowed that he would follow him to Jerusalem and have his blood. These threats, and the insolent language of young Billings, rather calmed Hayes than agitated him : he longed to be on his journey ; but he began to hope that no obstacle would be placed in the way of it. For the first time since many days, he began to enjoy a feehng something akin to security, and could look with tolerable- confidence towards a comfortable completion of his own schemes of treason. 658 CATHERINE: A STORY These points being duly settled, we are now arrived, public, at a point for which the author's soul hath been yearning ever since this history commenced. We are now come, critic, to a stage of the work when this tale begins to assume an appearance so interestingly horrific, that you must have a heart of stone if you are not interested by it. O candid and discerning feader, who art sick of the hideous scenes of brutal bloodshed which have of late come forth from pens of certain eminent wits,* if you turn away disgusted from the book, remember that this passage hath not been written for you, or such as you, who have taste to know and hate the style in which it hath been composed ; but for the public, which hath no such taste : — for the public, which can patronise four different representations of Jack Sheppard, — for the public whom its literary providers have gorged with blood and foul Newgate garbage, — and to whom we poor creatures, humbly following at the tail of our great high-priests and prophets of the press, may, as in duty bound, offer some small gift of our own : a little mite truly, but given with goodwill. Come up, then, fair Catherine and brave Count; — appear, gallant Brock, and faultless Billings ; — hasten hither, honest John Hayes : the former chapters are but flowers in which we have been decking you for the sacrifice. Ascend to the altar, ye innocent lambs, and prepare for the final act : lo ! the knife is sharpened, and the sacrificer ready ! Stretch your throats, sweet ones, — for the public is thirsty, and must have blood ! * This was written in 1840. CHAPTER THE LAST THAT Mr. Hayes had some notion of the attachment of Monsieur de Galgenstein for his wife is very certain : the man could not but perceive that she was more gaily dressed, and more frequently absent than usual ; and must have been quite aware that from the day of the quarrel until the present period, Catherine had never asked him for a shilling for the house expenses. He had not the heart to offer, however ; nor, in truth, did she seem to remembe"r that money was due. She received, in fact, many sums from the tender Count. Tom was likewise liberally provided by the same personage ; who was, moreover, continually sending presents of various kinds to the person on whom his aifections were centred. One of these gifts was a hamper of choice mountain-wine, which had been some weeks in the house, and excited the longing of Mr. Hayes, who loved wine very much. This liquor was generally drunk by Wood and Billings, who applauded it greatly ; and many times, in passing through the back-parlour, which he had to traverse in order to reach the stair, Hayes had cast a tender eye towards the drink; of which, had he dared, he would have partaken. On the 1st of March, in the year 1726, Mr. Hayes had gathered together almost the whole sum with which he intended to decamp ; and having on that very day recovered the amount of a bill which he thought almost hopeless, he returned home in tolerable good- humour ; and feeling, so near was his period of departure, something hke security. Nobody had attempted the least violence on him : besides, he was armed with pistols, had his money in bills in a belt about ins person, and really reasoned with himself that there was no danger for him to apprehend. He entered the house about dusk, at five o'clock. Mrs. Hayes was absent with Mr. Billings ; only Mr. Wood was smoking, accord- ing to his wont, in the little back-parlour ; and as Mr. Hayes passed, the old gentleman addressed him in a friendly voice, and, wondering that he had been such a stranger, invited him to sit and take a glass of wine. There was a light and a foreman in the shop ; Mr. 660 CATHERINE: A STORY Hayes gave his injunctions to that person, and saw no objection to Mr. Wood's invitation. The conversation, at first a little stiff between the two gentlemen, began speedily to grow more easy and confidential : and so parti- cularly bland and good-humoured was Mr. or Doctor Wood, that his companion was quite caught, and softened by the charm of his manner ; and the pair became as good friends as in the former days of their intercourse. " I wish you would come down sometimes of evenings,'' quoth Doctor Wood ; " for, though no book-learned man, Mr. Hayes, look you, you are a man of the world, and I can't abide the society of boys. There's Tom, now, since this tiff with Mrs. Cat, the scoundi-el plays the Grank Turk here ! The pair of 'em, betwixt them, have completely gotten the upper hand of you. Confess that you are beaten. Master Hayes, and don't like the boy ? " " No more I do," said Hayes ; " and that's the truth on't. A man doth not like to have his wife's sins flung in Ms face, nor to be perpetually buUied in his own house by such a fiery sprig as that." " Mischief, sir, — mischief only," said Wood : " 'tis the fun of youth, sir, and will go off as age comes to the lad. Bad as you may think him — and he is as skittish and fierce, sure enough, as a young colt — there is good stuff in him ; and though he hath, or fancies he hath, the right to abuse every one, by the Lord he will let none others do so ! Last week, now, didn't he tell Mrs. Cat that you served her right in the last beating matter 1 and weren't they coming to knives, just as in your case? By my faith, they were. Ay, and at the ' Braund's Head,' when some fellow said that you were a bloody Bluebeard, and would murder your wife, stab me if Tom wasn't up in an instant and knocked the fellow down for abusing of you ! " The first of these stories was quite true ; the second was only a charitable invention of Mr. Wood, and employed, doubtless, for the amiable purpose of bringing the old and young men together. The scheme partially succeeded ; for, though Hayes was not so far mollified towards Tom as to entertain any affection for a young man whom he had cordially detested ever since he knew him, yet he felt more at ease and cheerful regarding himself : and surely not without reason. While indulging in these benevolent sentiments, Mrs. Catherine and her son arrived, and found, somewhat to their astonish- ment, Mr. Hayes seated in the back-parlour, as in former times ; and they were invited by Mr. Wood to sit down and drink. We have said that certain bottles of mountain-wine were pre- sented by the Count to Mrs. Catherine : these were, at Mr. Wood's MR. HAYES BECOMES INTOXICATED 66l suggestion, produced ; and Hayes, who had long been coveting them, was charmed to have an opportunity to drink his fill. He forthwith began bragging of his great powers as a drinker, and vowed that he could manage eight bottles without becoming intoxicated. Mr. Wood grinned strangely, and looked in a peculiar way at Tom BiUings, who grinned too. Mrs. Cat's eyes were turned towards the ground : but her face was deadly pale. The party began drinking. Hayes kept up his reputation as a toper, and swallowed one, two, three bottles without wincing. He grew talkative and merry, and began to sing songs and to cut jokes ; at which Wood laughed hugely, and Billings after him. Mrs. Cat could not laugh ; but sat silent. What ailed her? Was she think- ing of the Count 1 She had been with Max that day, and had promised him, for the next night at ten, an interview near his lodgings at Whitehall. It was the first time that she would see him alone. They were to meet (not a very cheerful place for a love-tryst) at St. Margaret's churchyard, near Westminster Abbey. Of this, no doubt. Cat was thinking ; but what could she mean by whispering to Wood, "No, no ! for God's sake, not to-night ! " " She means we are to have no more liquor," said Wood to Mr. Hayes ; who heard this sentence, and seemed rather alarmed. "That's it, — no more liquor," said Catherine eagerly; "you have had enough to-night. Go to bed, and lock your door, and sleep, Mr. Hayes." " But I say I've not had enough drink ! " screamed Hayes ; " I'm good for five bottles more, and wager I will drink them, too." " Done, for a guinea ! " said Wood. " Done, and done ! " said BilUngs. " Be you quiet ! " growled Hayes, scowling at the lad. " I wiU drink what I please, and ask no counsel of yours." And he muttered some more curses against young Billings, which showed what his feelings were towards his wife's son ; and which the latter, for a wonder, only received with a scornful smile, and a knowing look at Wood. Well! the five extra bottles were brought, and drunk by Mr. Hayes ; and seasoned by many songs from the recueil of Mr. Thomas d'Urfey and others. The chief part of the talk and merriment was on Hayes's part; as, indeed, was natural, — for, while he drank bottle after bottle of wine, the other two gentlemen confined themselves to small-beer,— both pleading illness as an excuse for their sobriety. And now might we depict, with much accuracy, the course of Mr. Hayes's intoxication, as it rose from the merriment of the 662 CATHERINE: A STORY three-bottle point to the madness of the four — from the uproarious quarrelsomeness of the sixth bottle to the sickly stupidity of the seventh ; but we are desirous of bringing this tale to a conclusion, and must pretermit all consideration of a subject so curious, so in- structive, and so delightful. Sufiice it to say, as a matter of history, that Mr. Hayes did actually drink seven bottles of mountain - wine ; and that Mr. Thomas Billings went to the " Braund's Head," in Bond Street, and purchased another, which Hayes likewise drank. " That'll do," said Mr. Wood to young Billings ; and they led Hayes up to bed, whither, in truth, he was unable to walk himself Mrs. Springatt, the .lodger, came down to ask what the noise was. " 'Tis only Tom BilUngs making merry with some friends from the country," answered Mrs. Hayes ; whereupon Springatt retired, and the house was quiet. Some scuffling and stamping was heard about eleven o'clock After they had seen Mr. Hayes to bed, Billings remembered that he had a parcel to carry to some person in the neighbourhood of the Strand ; and, as the night was remarkably iine, he and Mr. Wood agreed to walk together, and set forth accordingly. [Here follows a description of the Thames at Midnight, in a fine historical style ; with an account of Lambeth, Westminster, the Savoy, Baynard's Castle, Arundel House, the Temple ; of Old London Bridge, with its twenty arches, "on which be houses builded, so that it seemeth rather a continuall street than a bridge ; " of Bankside, and the " Globe " and the " Fortune " Theatres ; of the ferries across the river, and of the pirates who infest the same — namely, tinklermen, petermen, hebbermen, trawlermen ; of the fleet of barges that lay at the Savoy steps ; and of the long lines of slim wherries sleeping on the river banks and basking and shining in the moonbeams. A combat on the river is described, THE THAMES AT MIDNIGHT 663 that takes place between the crews of a tinklerman's boat and the water-baniffs. Shouting his war-cry, "St. Mary Overy a la re- scousse ! " the water-bailiff sprung at the throat of the tinklerman captain. The crews of both vessels, as if aware that the struggle of their .chiefs would decide the contest, ceased hostilities, and awaited on their respective poops the issue of the death-shock. It was not long coming. " Yield, dog ! " said the water-bailiff. The tinklerman could not answer — for his throat was grasped too tight in the iron clench of the city champion ; but drawing his snickersnee, he plunged it seven times in the bailiff's chest : still the latter fell not. The death-rattle gurgled in the throat of his opponent ; his arms fell heavily to his side. Foot to foot, each standing at the side of his boat, stood the brave men — they were both dead ! " In the name of St. Clement Danes," said the master, " give way, my men ! " and, thrusting forward his halberd (seven feet long, richly decorated with velvet and brass nails, and having the city arms, argent, a cross gules, and in the first quarter a dagger displayed of the second), he thrust the tinklerman's boat away from his own ; and at once the bodies of the captains plunged down, down, down, down in the unfathomable waters. After this follows another episode. Two masked ladies quarrel at the door of a tavern overlooking the Thames : they turn out to be Stella and Vanessa, who have followed Swift thither ; who is in the act of reading "Gulliver's Travels" to Gay, Arbuthnot, Bolingbroke, and Pope. Two fellows are sitting shuddering under a doorway ; to one of them Tom Billings flung a sixpence. He little knew that the names of those two young men were — Samuel Johnson and Richard Savagei\ M' ANOTHER LAST CHAPTER R. HAYES did not join the family the next day ; and it appears that the previous night's reconciliation was not very durable ; for when Mrs. Springatt asked Wood for Hayes, Mr. Wood stated that Hayes had gone away without saying whither he was bound, or how long he might be absent. He only said, in rather a sulky tone, that he should probably pass the night at a friend's house. " For my part, I know of no friend he hath," added Mr. Wood ; " and pray Heaven that he may not think of deserting his poor wife, whom he hath beaten and ill-used so already ! " In this prayer Mrs. Springatt joined ; and so these two worthy people parted. What business Billings was about cannot be said ; but he was this night bound towards Marylebone Fields, as he was the night before for the Strand and Westminster ; and, although the night was very stormy and rainy, as the previous evening had been fine, old Wood good-naturedly resolved upon accompanying him ; and forth they sallied together. Mrs. Catherine, too, had her business, as we have seen ; but this was of a very delicate nature. At nine o'clock, she had an appointment with the Count ; and faithfully, by that hour, had found her way to Saint Margaret's churchyard, near Westminster Abbey, where she awaited Monsieur de Galgenstein. The spot was convenient, being very lonely, and at the same time close to the Count's lodgings at Whitehall. His Excellency came, but somewhat after the hour ; for, to say the truth, being a freethinker, he had the most firm belief in ghosts and demons, and did not care to pace a churchyard alone. He was comforted, there- fore, when he saw a woman muffled in a cloak, who held out her hand to him at the gate, and said, " Is that you ? " He took her hand, — it was very clammy and cold ; and at her desire he bade his confi- dential footman, who had attended him with a torch, to retire, and leave him to himself The torch-bearer retired, and left them quite in darkness ; and the pair entered the little cemetery, cautiously threading their way among the tombs. They sat down on one, underneath a tree it THE LAST APPOINTMENT 665 seemed to be ; the wind was very cold, and its piteous howling was the only noise that broke the silence of the place. Catherine's teeth were chattering, for all her wraps ; and when Max drew her close to him, and encircled her waist with one arm, and pressed her hand, she did not repulse him, but rather came close to him, and with her own damp fingers feebly returned his pressure. The poor thing was very wretched and weeping. She confided to Max the cause of her grief She was alone in the world, — alone and penniless. Her husband had left her; she had that very day received a letter from him which confirmed all that she had suspected so long. He had left her, carried away all his property, and would not return ! If we say that a selfish joy filled the breast of Monsieur de Galgenstein, the reader will not be astonished. A heartless libertine, he felt glad at the prospect of Catherine's ruin ; for he hoped that necessity would make her his own. He clasped the poor thing to his heart, and vowed that he would replace the husband she had lost, and that his fortune should be hers. " Will you replace him 1 " said she. " Yes, truly, in everything but the name, dear Catherine ; and when he dies, I swear you shall be Countess of Galgenstein." " Will you swear ? " she cried eagerly. " By everything that is most sacred : were you free now, I would " (and here he swore a terrific oath) " at once make you mine." We have seen before that it cost Monsieur de Galgenstein nothing to make these vows. Hayes was likely, too, to live as long as Catherine — as long, at least, as the Count's connection with her; but he was caught in his own snare. She took his hand and kissed it repeatedly, and bathed it in her tears, and pressed it to her bosom. " Max," she said, " I am free t Be mine, and I will love you as I have done for years and years." Max started back. " What, is he dead ? " he said. " No, no, not dead ; but he never was my husband." He let go her hand, and, interrupting her, said sharply, " Indeed, madam, if this carpenter never was your husband, I see no cause why / should be. If a lady, who hath been for twenty years the mistress of a miserable country boor, cannot find it in her heart to put up with the protection of a nobleman — a sovereign's representative — she may seek a husband elsewhere ! " "I was no man's mistress except yours," sobbed Catherine, wringing her hands and sobbing wildly ; " but, Heaven ! I deserved this. Because I was a child, and you saw, and ruined, and left me — because, in my sorrow and repentance, I wished to repair my crime, and was touched by that man's love, and married him — because he too deceives and leaves me — because, after loving you — 666 CATHERINE: A STORY madly loving you for twenty years — I will not now forfeit your respect, and degrade myself by yielding to your will, you too must scorn me ! It is too much — too much — Heaven ! " And the wretched woman fell back almost fainting. Max was almost frightened by this burst of sorrow on her part, and was coming forward to support her ; but she motioned him away, and, taking from her bosom a letter, said, "If it were light, you could see. Max, how cruelly I have been betrayed by that man who called himself my husband. Long before he married me, he was married to another. This woman is still living, he says; and he says he leaves me for ever." At this moment the moon, which had been hidden behind West- minister Abbey, rose above the vast black mass of that edifice, and poured a flood of silver light upon the little church of St. Margaret's, and the spot where the lovers stood. Max was at a little distance from Catherine, pacing gloomily up and down the flags. She re- mained at her old position at the tombstone under the tree, or pillar, as it seemed to be, as the moon got up. She was leaning against the pillar, and holding out to Max, with an arm beautifully white and rounded, the letter she had received from her husband : " Read it, Max," she said: "I asked for light, and here is Heaven's own, by which you may read.'.' But Max did not come forward to receive it. On a sudden his face assumed a look of the most dreadful surprise and agony. He stood still, and stared with wild eyes starting from their sockets ; he stared upwards, at a point seemingly above Catheiine's head. At last he raised up his finger slowly and said, " Look, Cat — the head — the head ! " Then uttering a horrible laugh, he fell down grovel- ling among the stones, gibbering and writhing in a fit of epilepsy. Catherine started forward and looked up. She had been stand- ing against a post, not a tree — the moon was shining full on it now ; and on the summit, strangely distinct, and smiling ghastly, was a livid human head. The wretched woman fled — she dared look no more. And some hours afterwards, when alarmed by the Count's continued absence, his confidential servant came back to seek for him in the churchyard, he was found sitting on the flags, staring full at the head, and laugh- ing, and talking to it wildly, and nodding at it. He was taken up a hopeless idiot, and so lived for years and years; clanking the chain, and moaning under the lash, and howling through long nights when the moon peered through the bars of his solitary cell, and he buried his face in the straw. MR. JOHN HAYES'S HEAD 667 There — the murder is out ! And having indulged himself in a chapter of the very finest writing, the author begs the attention of the British public towards it ; humbly conceiving that it possesses some of those peculiar merits which have rendered the fine writing in other chapters of the works of other authors so famous. Without bragging at all, let us just point out the chief claims of the above pleasing piece of composition. In the first place, it is perfectly stilted and unnatural ; the dialogue and the sentiments being artfully arranged, so as to be as strong and majestic as possible. Our dear Cat is but a poor illiterate country wench, who has come from cutting her husband's throat ; and yet, see ! she talks and looks like a tragedy princess, who is suflFering in the most virtuous blank verse. This is the proper end of fiction, and one of the greatest triumphs that a novelist can achieve : for to make people sympathise with virtue is a vulgar trick that any common fellow can do ; but it is not everybody who can take a scoundrel, and cause us to weep and whimper over him as though he were a very saint. Give a yoimg lady of five years old a skein of silk and a brace of netting-needles, and she will in a short time turn you out a decent silk purse — anybody can ; but try her with a sow's ear, and see whether she can make a silk purse out of that. That is the work for your real great artist ; and pleasant it is to see how many have succeeded in these latter days. The subject is strictly historical, as any one may see by referring to the Daily Post of March 3, 1726, which contains the following paragraph : — " Yesterday morning, early, a man's head, that by the freshness of it seemed to have been newly cut ofi" from the body, having its own hair on, was found by the river's side, near Millbank, West- minster, and was afterwards exposed to public view in St. Margaret's churchyard, where thousands of people have seen it ; but none coidd tell who the unhappy person was, much less who committed such a horrid and barbarous action. There are various conjectures relating to the deceased; but there being nothing certain, we omit them. The head was much hacked and mangled in the cutting off." The head which caused such an impression upon Monsieur de Galgenstein was, indeed, once on the shoulders of Mr. John Hayes, who lost it under the following circumstances. We have seen how Mr. Hayes was induced to drink. Mr. Hayes having been encouraged in drinking the wine, and growing very merry therewith, he sang and danced about the room ; but his wife fearing the quantity he had drunk would not have the wished-for effect on him, she sent 668 CATHERINE: A STORY away for another bottle, of which he drank also. This eifeotually answered their expectations ; and Mr. Hayes became thereby intoxi- cated, and deprived of his understanding. He, however, made shift to get into the other room, and, throw- ing himself upon the bed, fell asleep; upon which Mrs. Hayes reminded them of the affair in hand, and told them that was the most proper juncture to finish the business.* Ring, ding, ding ! the gloomy green curtain drops, the dramatis personce are duly disposed of, the nimble candle-snuffers put out the lights, and the audience goeth pondering home. If the critic take the pains to ask why the author, who had been so diffuse in describing the early and fabulous acts of Mrs. Catherine's existence, should so hurry off the catastrophe where a deal of the very finest writing might have been employed, Solomons replies that the " ordinary " narrative is far more emphatic than any composition of his own could be, with all the rhetorical graces which he might employ. Mr. Aram's trial, as taken by the penny-a-liners of those days, had always interested him more than the lengthened and poetical report which an eminent novelist has given of the same. Mr. Turpin's adventures are more instructive and agreeable to him in the account of the Newgate Plutarch, than in the learned Ainsworth's Biographical Dictionary. And as he believes that the professional gentlemen who are employed to invest such heroes with the rewards that their great actions merit, will go through the cere- mony of the grand cordon with much more accuracy and despatch than can be shown by the most distinguished amateur ; in like manner he thinks that the history of such investitures should be written by people directly concerned, and not by admiring persons without, who must be ignorant of many of the secrets of Ketchcraft. We very much doubt if Milton himself could make a description of an execution half so horrible as the simple lines in the Daily Post of a hundred and ten years since, that now lies before us — "herrlich wie am ersten Tag," — as bright and clean as on the day of publi- cation. Think of it ! it has been read by Belinda at her toilet, * The description of the murder and the execution of the culprits, which here follows in the original, was taken from the newspapers of the day. Coming from such a source they have, as may be imagined, no literary merit whatever. The details of the crime are simply horrible, without one touch of even that sort of romance which sometimes gives a little dignity to murder. As such they precisely suited Mr. Thackeray's purpose at the time — which was to show the real manners and customs of the Sheppards and Turpins who were then the popular heroes of fiction. But nowadays there is no such purpose to serve, and therefore these too literal details are omitted. THE AUTHOR ADDRESSES HIS READERS 669 scanned at " Button's " and " Will's,'' sneered at by wits, talked of in palaces and cottages, by a busy race in wigs, red heels, hoops, patches, and rags of all variety — a busy race that hath long since plunged and vanished in the unfathomable gulf towards which we march so briskly. Where are they ? " Afflavit Deus" — and they are gone ! Hark ! is not the same wind roaring still that shall sweep us down ? and yonder stands the compositor at his types who shall put up a pretty paragraph some day to say how, " Yesterday, at his house in Grosvenor Square," or "At Botany Bay, universally regretted," died So-and-So. Into what profound moralities is the paragraph concerning Mrs. Catherine's burning leading us ! Ay, truly, and to that very point have we wished to come ; for having finished our delectable meal, it behoves us to say a word or two by way of grace at its conclusion, and be heartily thankful that it is over. It has been the writer's object carefully to exclude from his drama (except in two very insignificant instances — mere walking- gentlemen parts), any characters but those of scoundrels of the very highest degree. That he has not altogether failed in the object he had in view, is evident from some newspaper critiques which he has had the good fortune to see; and which abuse the tale of "Catherine" as one of the dullest, most vulgar, and immoral works extant. It is highly gratifying to the author to find that such opinions are abroad, as they convince him that the taste for Newgate literature is on the wane, and that when the public critic has right down luidisguised immorality set before him, the honest creature is shocked at it, as he should be, and can declare his indignation in good round terms of abuse. The characters of the tale are immoral, and no doubt of it ; but the writer humbly hopes the end is not so. The pubhc was, in our notion, dosed and poisoned by the prevailing style of literary practice, and it was necessary to administer some medicine that would produce a wholesome nausea, and afterwards bring about a more healthy habit. And, thank Heaven, this effect has been produced in very many instances, and that the "Catherine" cathartic has acted most efficaciously. The author has been pleased at the disgust which his work has excited, and has watched with benevolent care- fuhiess the wry faces that have been made by many of the patients who have swallowed the dose. Solomons remembers, at the estab- lishment in Birchin Lane where he had the honour of receiving his education, there used to be administered to the boys a certain cough- medicine, which was so excessively agreeable that all the lads longed to have colds in order to partake of the remedy. Some of our popular novelists have compounded their drugs in a similar way, 670 OATHEEINE: A STORY and made them so palatable that a public, once healthy and honest, has been well-nigh poisoned by their wares. Solomons defies any one to say the like of himself — that his doses have been as pleasant as champagne, and his pills as sweet as barley-sugar ; — it has been his attempt to make vice to appear entirely vicious ; and in those instances where he hath occasionally introduced something like virtue, to make the sham as evident as possible, and not allow the meanest capacity a single chance to mistake it. And what has been the consequence '? That wholesome nausea which it has been his good fortune to create wherever he has been allowed to practise in his humble circle. Has any one thrown away a halfpennyworth of sympathy upon any person mentioned in this history ? Surely no. But abler and more famous men than Solomons have taken a different plan ; and it becomes every man in his vocation to cry out against such, and expose their errors as best he may. Labouring under such ideas, Mr. Isaac Solomons, junior, pro- duced the romance of Mrs. Cat, and confesses himself completely happy to have brought it to a conclusion. His poem may be dull — ay, and probably is. The great Blackmore, the great Dennis, the great Sprat, the great Pomfret, not to mention great men of our own time — have they not also been dull, and had pretty reputa^- tions too ? Be it granted, Solomons is dull ; but don't attack his morality ; he humbly submits that, in his poem, no man shall mistake virtue for vice, no man shall allow a single sentiment of pity or admiration to enter his bosom for any character of the piece : it being, from beginning to end, a scene of unmixed rascality performed by persons who never deviate into good feeling. And although he doth not pretend to equal the great modem authors, whom he hath mentioned, in wit or descriptive power ; yet, in the point of moral, he meekly believes that he has been their superior ; feeling the greatest disgust for the characters he describes, and using his humble endeavour to cause the public also to hate them. HOKSEMONHEE Lane, January 1840. THE SECOND FUNEEAL OF NAPOLEON By MICHAEL ANGELO TITMARSH THE SECOND FUNERAL OF NAPOLEON ON THE DISINTERMENT OF NAPOLEON AT ST. HELENA MY DEAR , — It is no easy task in this world to dis- tinguish between what is great in it, and what is mean ; and many and many is the puzzle that I have had in read- ing History (or the works of fiction which go by that name), to know whether I should laud up to the skies, and endeavour, to the best of my small capabilities, to imitate the remarkable character about whom I was reading, or whether I should fling aside the book and the hero of it, as things altogether base, unworthy, laughable, and get a novel, or a game of billiards, or a pipe of tobacco, or the report of the last debate in the House, or any other employment which woidd leave the mind in a state of easy vacuity, rather than pester it with a vain set of dates relating to actions which are in themselves not worth a fig, or with a parcel of names of people whom it can do one no earthly good to remember. It is more than probable, my love, that you are acquainted with what is called Grecian and Roman history, chiefly from perusing, in very early youth, the little sheepskin-bound volumes of the ingenious Doctor Goldsmith, and have been indebted for your knowledge of our English annals to a subsequent study of the more voluminous works of Hume and Smollett. The first and the last- named authors, dear Miss Smith, have written each an admirable history, — that of the Reverend Doctor Primrose, Vicar of Wakefield, and that of Mr. Robert Bramble, of Bramble Hall — in both of which works you will find true and instructive pictures of human life, and which you may always think over with advantage. But let me 4 2 u 674 THE SECOND FUNERAL OF NAPOLEON caution you against patting any considerable trust in the other •works of these authors, which were placed in your hands at school and afterwards, and in which you were taught to believe. Modern historians, for the most part, know very little, and, secondly, only tell a little of what they know. As for those Greeks and Romans whom you have read of in " sheepskin," were you to know really what those monsters were, you would blush all over as red as a hollyhock, and put down the history-book in a fury. Many of our English worthies are no better. You are not in a situation to know the real characters of any one of them. They appear before you in their public capacities, but the individuals you know not. Suppose, for instance, your mamma had purchased her tea in the Borough from a grocer living there by the name of Greenacre : suppose you had been asked out to dinner, and the gentleman of the house had said : " Ho ! Fran9ois ! a glass of champagne for Miss Smith ; " — Courvoisier would have served you just as any other footman would ; you would never have known that there was anything extraordinary in these individuals, but would have thought of them only in their respective public characters of Grocer and Footman. This, madam, is History, in which a man always appears dealing with the world in his apron, or his laced livery, but which has not the power or the leisure, or, perhaps, is too high and mighty, to condescend to follow and study him in his privacy. Ah, my dear, when big and little men come to be measured rightly, and great and small actions to be weighed properly, and people to be stripped of their Royal robes, beggars' rags, generals' uniforms, seedy out-at-elbowed coats, and the like — or the contrary say, when souls come to be stripped of their wicked deceiving bodies, and turned out stark naked as they were before they were born — what a strange startling sight shall we see, and what a pretty figure shall some of us cut ! Fancy how we shall see Pride, with his Stultz clothes and padding pulled off, and dwindled down to a forked radish ! Fancy some Angelic Virtue whose white raiment is suddenly whisked over his head, shoTsing us cloven feet and a tail ! Fancy Humility, eased of its sad load of Cares and want and scorn, walking up to the very highest place of all, and blushing as he takes it ! Fancy, — but we must not fancy such a scene at all, which would be an outrage on public decency. Should we be any better than our neighbours? No, certainly. And as we can't be virtuous, let us be decent. Fig-leaves are a very decent becoming wear, and have been now in fashion for four thousand years. And so, my dear. History is ^ratten on fig-leaves. Would you have anything further 1 Oh fie ! Yes, four thousand years ago that famous tree was planted. At ON THE DISINTERMENT AT ST. HELENA 675 their very first lie, our first parents made for it, and there it ia still the great Humbug Plant, stretching its wide arms, and shelter- ing beneath its leaves, as broad and green as ever, all the generations of men. Thus, my dear, coquettes of your fascinating sex cover their persons with figgery, fantastically arranged, and call their masquerading, modesty. Cowards fig themselves out fiercely as " salvage men," and make us believe that they are warriors. Fools look very solemnly out from the dusk of the leaves, and we fancy in the gloom that they ^re sages. And many a man sets a great wreath about his pate and struts abroad a hero, whose claims we would all of us laugh at, could we but remove the ornament and see his numskull bare. Aiid such — (excuse my sermonising) — such is the constitution of mankind, that men have, as it were, entered into a compact among themselves to pursue the fig-leaf system a outranee, and to cry down all who oppose it. Humbug they will have. Humbugs themselves, they wiU respect humbugs. Their daily victuals of life must be seasoned with humbug. Certain things are there in the world that they will not allow to be called by their right names, and will insist upon our admiring, whether we will or no. Woe be to the man who would enter too far into the recesses of that magnificent temple where our Goddess is enshrined, peep through the vast embroidered curtains indiscreetly, penetrate the secret of secrets, and expose the Gammon of Gammons ! And as you must not peer too cmiously within, so neither must you remain scornfully without. Humbug-worshippers, let us come into our great temple regularly and decently : take our seats and settle our clothes decently ; open our books, and go through the service with decent gravity ; listen, and be decently affected by the expositions of the decent priest of the place; and if by chance some straggling vagabond, loitering in the sunshine out of doors, dares to laugh or to sing, and disturb the sanctified dulness of the faithful ; — quick ! a couple of big beadles rush out and belabour the wretch, and his yells make our devotions more comfortable. Some magnificent religious ceremonies of this nature are at present taking place in France ; ■ and thinking that you might perhaps while away some long winter evening with an account of them, I have compiled the following pages for your use. News- papers have been filled, for some days past, with details regarding the St. Helena expedition, many pamphlets have been published, men go about crying little books and broadsheets filled with real or sham particulars; and from these scarce and valuable documents the following pages are chiefly compiled. We must begin at the beginning ; premising, in the first place, 676 THE SECOND FUNERAL OF NAPOLEON that Monsieur Guizot, when French Ambassador at London, waited upon Lord Palmerston with a request that the body of the Emperor Napoleon should be given up to the French nation, in order that it might find a final resting-place in French earth. To this demand the English Government gave a ready assent ; nor was there any particular explosion of sentiment upon either side, only some pretty cordial expressions of mutual goodwill. Orders were sent out to St. Helena that the corpse should be disinterred in due time, when the French expedition had arrived in search of it, and that every respect and attention should be paid to those who came to carry back to their country the body of the famous dead warrior and sovereign. This matter being arranged in very few words (as in England, upon most points, is the laudable fashion), the French Chambers began to debate about the place in which they should bury the body when they got it ; and numberless pamphlets and newspapers out of doors joined in the talk. Some people there were who had fought and conquered and been beaten with the great Napoleon, and loved him and his memory. Many more were there who, because of his gi-eat genius and valour, felt excessively proud in their own particular persons, and clamoured for the return of their hero. And if there were some few individuals in this great hot-headed, gallant, boasting, sublime, absurd French nation, who had taken a cool view of the dead Emperor's character ; if, perhaps, such men as Louis Philippe, and Monsieur A. Thiers, Minister and Deputy, and Mon- sieur Fran9ois Guizot, Deputy and Excellency, had, from interest or conviction, opinions at all differing from those of the majority ; why, they knew what was what, and kept their opinions to them- selves, coming with a tolerably good grace, and flinging a few hand- fuls of incense upon the altar of the popular idol. In the succeeding debates, then, various opinions were given with regard to the place to be selected for the Emperor's sepulture. " Some demanded," says an eloquent anonymous Captain in the Navy who has written an " Itinerary from Toulon to Saint Helena," " that the coffin should be deposited under the bronze taken from the enemy by the French army — under the column of the Place Vendome. The idea was a fine one. This is the most glorious monument that was ever raised in a conqueror's honour. This column has been melted out of foreign cannon. These same cannons have furrowed the bosoms of our braves with noble cicatrices ; and this metal — conquered by the soldier first, by the artist afterwards — ias allowed to be imprinted on its front its own defeat and our glory. Napoleon might sleep in peace under this audacious trophy. But, would his ashes find a shelter sufficiently vast beneath this ON THE DISINTEEMENT AT ST. HELENA 677 pedestal 1 And his puissant statue dominating Paris beams with suflBcient grandeur on this place ; whereas the wheels of carriages and the feet of passengers would profane the funereal sanctity of the spot in trampling on the soil so near his head." You must not take this description, dearest Amelia, "at the foot of the letter," as the French phrase it, but you will here have a masterly exposition of the arguments for and against the burial of the Emperor under the Column of the Place Vendome. The idea was a fine one, granted ; but, like all other ideas, it was open to objections. You must not fancy that the cannon, or rather the cannon-balls, were in the habit of furrowing the bosoms of French braves, or any other braves, with cicatrices : on the contrary, it is a known fact that cannon-balls make wounds, and not cicatrices (which, my dear, are wounds partially healed) ; nay, that a man generally dies after receiving one such projectile on liis chest, much more after having his bosom furrowed by a score of them. No, my love ; no bosom, however heroic, can stand such applications, and the author only means that the French soldiers faced the cannon and took them. Nor, my love, must you suppose that the column was melted : it was the cannon was melted, not the column ; but such phrases are often used by orators when they wish to give a particular force and emphasis to their opinions. Well, again, although Napoleon might have slept in peace under "this audacious trophy," how could he do so and carriages go rattling by all night, and people with great iron heels to their boots pass clattering over the stones 1 Nor indeed could it be expected that a man whose reputation stretches from the Pyramids to the Kremlin, should find a column of which the base is only five-and- twenty feet square, a shelter vast enough for his bones. In a word, then, although the proposal to bury Napoleon under the column was ingenious, it was found not to suit ; whereupon somebody else proposed the Madeleine. " It was proposed," says the before-quoted author with his usual felicity, " to consecrate the Madeleine to his exiled manes " — that is, to his bones when they were not in exile any longer. " He ought to have, it was said, a temple entire. His glory fills the world. His bones could not contain themselves in the coffin of a man — in the tomb of a king ! " In this case what was Mary Magdalen to do 1 "This proposition, I am happy to say, was rejected, and a new one — that of the President of the Council — adopted. Napoleon and his braves ought not to quit each other. Under the immense gilded dome of the InvaUdes he would find a sanctuary worthy of himself. A dome imitates the vault of heaven, and that vault alone " (meaning of course the other vault) " should dominate above 678 THE SECOND FUNERAL OF NAPOLEON his head. His old mutilated Guard shall watch round him : the last veteran, as he has shed his blood in his combats, shall breathe his last sigh near his tomb, and all these tombs shall sleep under the tattered standards that have been won from all the nations of Europe." The original words are " sous les lambeaux cribMs des drapeaux cueillis chez toutes les nations;" in English, "under the riddled rags of the flags that have been culled or plucked " (like roses or buttercups) "in all the nations." Sweet innocent flowers of victory ! there they are, my dear, sure enough, and a pretty con- siderable hortus siccus may any man examine who chooses to walk to the Invalides. The burial-place being thus agreed on, the expedition was prepared, and on the 7th July the Helle Poule frigate, in company with La Favorite corvette, quitted Toulon harbour. A couple of steamers, the Trident and the Ocean, escorted the ships as far as Gibraltar, and there left them to pursue their voyage. The two ships quitted the harbour in the sight of a vast con- course of people, and in the midst of a great roaring of cannons. Previous to the departure of the Belle Poule, the Bishop of Fr^jus went on board, and gave to the cenotaph, in which the Emperor's remains were to be deposited, his episcopal benediction. Napoleon's old friends and followers, the two Bertrands, Gourgaud, Emanuel Las Cases, " companions in exile, or sons of the com- panions in exile, of the prisoner of the infdme Hudson," says a French writer, were passengers on board the frigate. Marchand, Denis, Pierret, Novaret, his old and faithful servants, were likewise in the vessel. It was commanded by His Koyal Highness Francis Ferdinand Philip Louis Marie d'Orl^aus, Prince de Joinville, a young prince two-and-twenty years of age, who was already dis- tinguished in the sei-vice of his country and king. On the 8th of October, after a voyage of six-and-sixty days, the Belle Poule arrived in James Town harbour ; and on its arrival, as on its departure from France, a great firing of guns took place. First, the Oreste French brig-of-war began roaring out a saluta- tion to the frigate ; then the Dolphin English schooner gave her one-and-twenty guns ; then the frigate returned the compliment of the Dolphin schooner ; then she blazed out with one-and-twenty guns more, as a mark of particular politeness to the shore — which kindness the forts acknowledged by similar detonations. These little compliments concluded on both sides, Lieutenant Middlemore, son and aide-de-camp of the Governor of St. Helena, came on board the French frigate, and brought his father's best respects to His Royal Highness. The Governor was at home ill, ON THE DISINTEKMENT AT ST. HELENA 679 and forced to keep his room ; but he had made his house at James Town ready for Captain Joinville and his suite, and begged that they would make use of it during their stay. On the 9th, H.R.H. the Prince of Joinville put on his full uniform and landed, in company with Generals Bertrand and Gour- gaud, Baron Las Cases, M. Marchand, M. Coquereau, the chaplain of the expedition, and M. de Rohan Chabot, who acted as chief mourner. All the garrison were under arms to receive the illustrious Prince and the other members of the expedition — who forthwith repaired to Plantation House, and had a conference with the Governor regarding their mission. On the 10th, 11th, 12th, these conferences continued : the crews of the French ships were permitted to come on shore and see the tomb of Napoleon. Bertrand, Gourgaud, Las Cases wandered about the island and revisited the spots to which they had been partial in the lifetime of the Emperor. The 15th October was fixed on for the day of the exhumation : that day five-and-twenty years, the Emperor Napoleon first set his foot upon the island. On the day previous all things had been made ready : the grand coffins and ornaments brought from France, and the articles necessary for the operation were carried to the valley of the Tomb. The operations commenced at midnight. The well-known friends of Napoleon before named and some other attendants of his, the chaplain and his acolytes, the doctor of the Belle Poule, the captains of the French ships, and Captain Alexander of the Engineers, the English Commissioner, attended the disinterment. His Royal High- ness Prince de Joinville could not be present because the workmen were under English command. The men worked for nine hours incessantly, when at length the earth was entirely removed from the vault, all the horizontal strata of masonry demolished, and the large slab which covered the place where the stone sarcophagus lay, removed by a crane. This outer coffin of stone was perfect, and could scarcely be said to be damp. " As soon as the Abb^ Coquereau had recited the prayers, the coffin was removed with the greatest care, and carried by the engineer soldiers, bareheaded, into a tent that had been prepared for the purpose. After the religious ceremonies, the inner coffins were opened. The outermost coffin was slightly injured : then came one of lead, which was in good condition, and enclosed two others — one of tin and one of wood. The last coffin was lined inside with white satin, which, having become detached by the efiect of time, 680 THE SECOND FUNERAL OF NAPOLEON had fallen upon the body and enveloped it like a winding-sheet, and had become slightly attached to it. " It is difficult to describe with what anxiety and emotion those who were present waited for the moment which was to expose to them all that death had left of Napoleon. Notwithstanding the singular state of preservation of the tomb and coffins, we could scarcely hope to find anything but some misshapen remains of the least perishable part of the costume to evidence the identity of the body. But when Doctor Guillard raised the sheet of satin, an inde- scribable feeling of surprise and affection was expressed by the spec- tators, many of whom burst into tears. The Emperor was himself before their eyes ! The features of the face, though changed, were perfectly recognised ; the hands extremely beautiful ; his well-known costume had suffered but little, and the colours were easily dis- tinguished. The attitude itself was full of ease, and but for the fragments of the satin lining which covered, as with a fine gauze, several parts of the uniform, we might have believed we still saw Napoleon before us lying on his bed of state. General Bertrand and M. Marchand, who were both present at the interment, quickly pointed out the different articles which each had deposited in the coffin, and which remained in the precise position in which they had previously described them to be. " The two inner coffins were carefully closed again ; the old leaden coffin was strongly blocked up with wedges of wood, and both were once more soldered up with the most minute precautions, under the direction of Doctor Guillard. These different operations being terminated, the ebony sarcophagus was closed as well as its oak case. On delivering the key of the ebony sarcophagus to Count de Chabot, the King's Commissioner, Captain Alexander declared to him, in the name of the Governor, that this coffin, containing the mortal remains of the Emperor Napoleon, was con- sidered as at the disposal of the French Government from that day, and from the moment at which it should arrive at the place of embarkation, towards which it was about to be sent under the orders of General Middlemore. The King's Commissioner replied that he was charged by his Government, and in its name, to accept the coffin from the hands of the British authorities, and that he and the other persons composing the French mission were ready to follow it to James Town, where the Prince de Joinville, superior commandant of the expedition, woidd be ready to receive it and conduct it on board his frigate. A car drawn by four horses, decked with funereal emblems, had been prepared before the arrival of the expedition, to receive the coffin, as well as a pall, and all the other suitable trappings of mourning. When the sarcophagus was ON THE DISINTERMENT AT ST. HELENA 681 placed on the car, the whole was covered with a magnificent im- perial mantle brought from Paris, the four corners of which were borne by Generals Bertrand and Gourgaud, Baron Las Cases and M. Marchand. At half-past three o'clock the funeral car began to move, preceded by a chorister bearing the cross, and by the Abb^ Coquereau. M. de Chabot acted as chief mourner. All the authorities of the island, all the principal inhabitants, and the whole of the garrison, followed in procession from the tomb to the quay. But with the exception of the artillerymen necessary to lead the horses, and occasionally support the car when descending some steep parts of the way, the places nearest the coifin were reserved for the French mission. General Middlemore, although in a weak state of health, persisted in following the \\rhole way on foot, together with General Churchill, chief of the staff in India, who had arrived only two days before from Bombay. The immense weight of the coffins, and the unevenness of the road, rendered the utmost carefulness necessary throughout the whole distance. Colonel Trelawney commanded in person the small detachment of artillery- men who conducted the car, and, thanks to his great care, not the slighte.