diff options
Diffstat (limited to '32424-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 32424-0.txt | 18600 |
1 files changed, 18600 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/32424-0.txt b/32424-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8d8b410 --- /dev/null +++ b/32424-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,18600 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Arthur O’Leary, by Charles James Lever + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost +no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it +under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this +eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Arthur O’Leary His Wanderings And Ponderings In Many Lands + +Author: Charles James Lever + +Illustrator: George Cruikshank + +Release Date: May 19, 2010 [EBook #32424] +Last Updated: September 3, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARTHUR O’LEARY *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + +ARTHUR O’LEARY + +HIS WANDERINGS AND PONDERINGS IN MANY LANDS + + +By Charles James Lever + +Edited By His Friend, Harry Lorrequer, Illustrated By George Cruikshank. + +New Edition. + +London: Henry Colburn, Publisher, + +Great Marlborough Street. + +1845. + + + +CONTENTS + + +ARTHUR O’LEARY. + +CHAPTER I. THE “ATTWOOD” + +CHAPTER II. THE BOAR’S HEAD AT ROTTERDAM + +CHAPTER III. VAN HOOGENDORP’S TALE + +CHAPTER IV. MEMS. AND MORALIZINGS + +CHAPTER V. ANTWERP--“THE FISCHER’S HAUS.” + +CHAPTER VI. MR. O’KELLY’S TALE + +CHAPTER VII. MR. O’KELLY’S TALE.--CONTINUED + +CHAPTER VIII. MR. O’KELLY’S TALE.--CONCLUDED + +CHAPTER IX. TABLE-TRAITS + +CHAPTER X. A DILEMMA + +CHAPTER XI. A FRAGMENT OF FOREST LIFE + +CHAPTER XII. CHATEAU LIFE + +CHAPTER XIII. THE ABBE’S STORY + +CHAPTER XIV. THE CHASE + +CHAPTER XV. A NARROW ESCAPE + +CHAPTER XVI. A MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE + +CHAPTER XVII. THE BORE--A SOLDIER OF THE EMPIRE + +CHAPTER XVIII. THE RETREAT FROM LEIPSIC + +CHAPTER XIX. THE TOP OF A DILIGENCE + +CHAPTER XX. BONN AND STUDENT LIFE + +CHAPTER XXI. THE STUDENT + +CHAPTER XXII. SPAS AND GRAND DUKEDOMS + +CHAPTER XXIII. THE TRAVELLING PARTY + +CHAPTER XXIV. THE GAMBLING-ROOM + +CHAPTER XXV. A WATERING-PLACE DOCTOR + +CHAPTER XXVI. SIR HARRY WYCHERLEY + +CHAPTER XXVII. THE RECOVERY HOUSE + +CHAPTER XXVIII. THE ‘DREAM OF DEATH’ + +CHAPTER XXIX. THE STRANGE GUEST + +CHAPTER XXX. THE PARK + +CHAPTER XXXI. THE BARON’S STORY + +CHAPTER XXXII. THE WARTBURG AND EISENACH + +CHAPTER XXXIII. “ERFURT” + +CHAPTER XXXIV. THE HERR. DIRECTOR KLUG + + + +NOTICE, PRELIMINARY AND EXPLANATORY, + +BY THE EDITOR. + +When some years ago we took the liberty, in a volume of our so-called +“Confessions,” to introduce to our reader’s acquaintance the gentleman +whose name figures in the title page, we subjoined a brief notice, by +himself, intimating the intention he entertained of one day giving to +the world a farther insight into his life and opinions, under the title +of “Loiterings of Arthur O’Leary.” + +It is more than probable that the garbled statement and incorrect +expression of which we ourselves were guilty respecting our friend had +piqued him into this declaration, which, on mature consideration, he +thought fit to abandon. For, from that hour to the present one, nothing +of the kind ever transpired, nor could we ascertain, by the strictest +inquiry, that such a proposition of publication had ever been +entertained in the West-End, or heard of in the “Row.” + +The worthy traveller had wandered away to “pastures new,” heaven knows +where! and, notwithstanding repeated little paragraphs in the second +advertizing column of the “Times” newspaper, assuring, “A. O’L. that if +he would inform his friends where a letter would reach, all would be +forgiven,” &c. the mystery of his whereabouts remained unsolved, save by +the chance mention of a north-west passage traveller, who speaks of a +Mr. O’Leary as having presided at a grand bottle-nosed whale dinner in +Behring’s Straits, some time in the autumn of 1840; and an allusion, in +the second volume of the Chevalier de Bertonville’s Discoveries in +Central Africa, to an “Irlandais bien original,” who acted as sponsor to +the son and heir of King Bullanullaboo, in the Chieckhow territory. That +either, or indeed, both, these individuals resolved themselves into our +respected friend, we entertained no doubt whatever; nor did the +information cause us any surprise, far less unquestionably, than had we +heard of his ordering his boots from Hoby, or his coat from Stultz. + +Meanwhile time rolled on--and whether Mr. O’Leary had died of the whale +feast, or been eaten himself by his godson, no one could conjecture, and +his name had probably been lost amid the rust of ages, if certain +booksellers, in remote districts, had not chanced upon the announcement +of his volume, and their “country orders” kept dropping in for these +same “Loiterings,” of which the publishers were obliged to confess they +knew nothing whatever. + +Now, the season was a dull one; nothing stirring in the literary world; +people had turned from books, to newspapers; a gloomy depression reigned +over the land. The India news was depressing; the China worse; the +French were more insolent than ever; the prices were falling under the +new tariff; pigs looked down, and “Repealers” looked up. The only +interesting news, was the frauds in pork, which turned out to be pickled +negroes and potted squaws. What was to be done? A literary speculation +at such a moment was preposterous; for although in an age of temperance, +nothing prospered but “Punch.” + +It occurred to us, “then pondering,” as Lord Brougham would say, that as +these same “Loiterings” had been asked for more than once, and an actual +order for two copies had been seen in the handwriting of a solvent +individual, there was no reason why we should not write them ourselves. +There would be little difficulty in imagining what a man like O’Leary +would say, think, or do, in any-given situation. The peculiarities of +his character might, perhaps, give point to what dramatic people call +“situations,” but yet were not of such a nature as to make their +portraiture a matter of any difficulty. + +We confess the thing savoured a good deal of book-making. What of that? +We remember once in a row in Dublin, when the military were called out, +that a sentinel happened to have an altercation with, an old woman of +that class, for which the Irish metropolis used to have a patent, in all +that regards street eloquence and repartee. The soldier, provoked beyond +endurance, declared at last with an oath, “that if she didn’t go away, +he’d drive his bayonet through her.” “Oh, then, the devil thank you for +that same,” responded the hag, “sure, isn’t it your trade?” Make the +application, dear reader, and forgive us for our authorship to order. + +Besides, had we not before us the example of Alexandre Dumas, in France, +whose practice it is to amuse the world by certain Souvenirs de +“Voyage,” which he has never made, not even in imagination but which are +only the dressed-up skeletons of other men’s rambles, and which he buys, +exactly as the Jews do old uniforms and court suits, for exportation to +the colonies. And thus while thousands of his readers are sympathizing +with the suffering of the aforesaid Alexandre, in his perilous passage +of the great desert, or his fearful encounter with Norwegian wolves, +little know they that their hero is snugly established in his “entresol” + of the “Rue d’Alger,” lying full length on a spring-cushioned sofa, with +a Manilla weed on his lip, and George Sand’s last bulletin of +wickedness, half cut before him. These “Souvenirs de Voyage” being +nothing more than the adventures and incidents of Messrs. John Doe and +Richard Doe, paragraphed, witticized, and spiced for public taste, by +Alexandre Dumas, pretty much as cheap taverns give “gravy” and +“ox-tail”--the smallest modicum of meat, to the most high-seasoned and +hot-flavoured condiments. + +If, then, we had scruples, here was a precedent to relieve our minds-- +here a case perfectly in point, at least so far as the legitimacy of the +practice demanded. But, unhappily, it ended there: for although it may +be, and indeed is, very practicable for Monsieur Dumas, by the +perfection of _his “cuisine,”_ to make the meat itself a secondary part +of the matter; yet do we grievously fear that a tureen full of +“O’Leary,” might not be an acceptable dish, because there was a bone of +“Harry Lorrequer” in the bottom. + +With all these _pros_ and _cons_ our vain-glorious boast to write the +work in question stared us suddenly in the face; and, really, we felt as +much shame as can reasonably be supposed to visit a man, whose +countenance has been hawked about the streets, and sold in shilling +numbers. What was to be done? There was the public, too; but, like Tony +Lumpkin, we felt we might disappoint the company at the Three Jolly +Pigeons--but could we disappoint ourselves? + +Alas! there were some excellent reasons against such a consummation. So, +respected reader, whatever liberties we might take with you, we had to +look nearer home, and bethink us of ourselves. _After all_--and what a +glorious charge to the jury of one’s conscience is your after all!--- +what a plenary indulgence against all your sins of commission and +omission!--what a makepeace to self-accusation, and what a salve to +heartfelt repinings!--after all, we did know a great deal about O’Leary: +his life and opinions, his habits and haunts, his prejudices, pleasures, +and predilections: and although we never performed Boz to his Johnson, +still had we ample knowledge of him for all purposes of book-writing; +and there was no reason why we should not assume his mantle, or rather +his Macintosh, if the weather required it. + +Having in some sort allayed our scruples in this fashion, and having +satisfied our conscience by the resolve, that if we were not about to +record the actual _res gesto_ of Mr. O’Leary, neither would we set down +anything which _might not_ have been one of his adventures, nor put into +his mouth any imaginary conversations which _he might not_ have +sustained; so that, in short, should the volume ever come under the eyes +of the respected gentleman himself, considerable mystification would +exist, as to whether he did not say, do, and think, exactly as we made +him, and much doubt lie on his mind that he was not the author himself. + +We wish particularly to lay stress on the honesty of these our +intentions--the more, as subsequent events have interfered with their +accomplishment; and we can only assure the world of what we would have +done, had we been permitted. And here let us observe, _en passant_, that +if other literary characters had been actuated by similarly honourable +views, we should have been spared those very absurd speeches which +Sallust attributes to his characters in the Catiline conspiracy; and +another historian, with still greater daring, assumes the Prince of +Orange _ought_ to have spoken, at various epochs in the late Belgian +revolution. + +With such prospective hopes, then, did we engage in the mystery of these +same “Loiterings,” and with a pleasure such as only men of the pen can +appreciate, did we watch the bulky pile of MS. that was growing up +before us, while the interest of the work had already taken hold of us; +and whether we moved our puppets to the slow figure of a minuet, or +rattled them along at the slap-dash, hurry-scurry, devil-may-care pace, +for which our critics habitually give us credit, we felt that our foot +beat time responsively to the measure, and that we actually began to +enjoy the performance. + +In this position stood matters, when early one morning in December the +post brought us an ominous-looking epistle, which, even as we glanced +our eye on the outside, conveyed an impression of fear and misgiving to +our minds. If there are men in whose countenances, as Pitt remarked, +“villany is so impressed, it were impiety not to believe it,” so are +there certain letters whose very shape and colour, fold, seal, and +superscription have something gloomy and threatening--something of +menace and mischief about them. This was one of these: the paper was a +greenish sickly-white, a kind of dyspeptic foolscap; the very mill that +fabricated it might have had the shaking ague. The seal was of bottle- +wax, the impression, a heavy thumb. The address ran, “To H. L.” The +writing, a species of rustic paling, curiously interwoven and gnarled, +to which the thickness of the ink lent a needless obscurity, giving to +the whole the appearance of something like a child’s effort to draw a +series of beetles and cockroaches with a blunt stick; but what most of +all struck terror to our souls, was an abortive effort at the words +“Arthur O’Leary” scrawled in the corner. + +What! had he really then escaped the perils of blubber and black men? +Was he alive, and had he come back to catch us, _in delicto_--in the +very fact of editing him, of raising our exhausted exchequer at his +cost, and replenishing our empty coffers under his credit? Our +suspicions were but too true. We broke the seal and spelled as follows-- + +“Sir--A lately-arrived traveller in these parts brings me intelligence, +that a work is announced for publication by you, under the title of ‘The +Loiterings of Arthur O’Leary,’ containing his opinions, notions, +dreamings, and doings during several years of his life, and in various +countries. Now this must mean me, and I should like to know what are a +man’s own, if his adventures are not? His ongoings, his ‘begebenheiten,’ +as the Germans call them, are they not as much his, as his--what shall I +say; his flannel waistcoat or his tobacco-pipe? + +“If I have spent many years, and many pounds (of tobacco) in my +explorings of other lands, is it for you to reap the benefit? If I have +walked, smoked, laughed, and fattened from Trolhatten to Tehran, was it +that you should have the profit? Was I to exhibit in ludicrous +situations and extravagant incidents, with ‘illustrations by Phiz,’ +because I happened to be fat, and fond of rambling? Or was it my name +only that you pirated, so that Arthur O’Leary should be a type of +something ludicrous, wherever he appeared in company? Or worse still, +was it an attempt to extort money from me, as I understand you once +before tried, by assuming for one of your heroes the name of a most +respectable gentleman in private life? To which of these counts do you +plead guilty? + +“Whatever is your plan, here is mine: I have given instructions to my +man of law to obtain an injunction from the Chancellor, restraining you +or any other from publishing these ‘Loiterings.’ Yes; an order of the +court will soon put an end to this most unwarrantable invasion of +private rights. Let us see then if you’ll dare to persist in this +nefarious scheme. + +“The Swan-river for you, and the stocks for your publisher, may, +perhaps, moderate your literary and publishing ardour--eh! Master Harry? +Or do you contemplate adding your own adventures beyond seas to the +volume, and then make something of your ‘Confessions of a Convict,’ I +must conclude at once: in my indignation this half hour, I have been +swallowing all the smoke of my meerschaum, and I feel myself turning +round and round like a smoke-jack. Once for all--stop! recall your +announcement, burn your MS., and prostrate yourself in abject humility +at my feet, and with many sighs, and two pounds of shag (to be had at +No. 8, Francis-street, two doors from the lane), you may haply be +forgiven by yours, in wrath, + +“Arthur O’Leary. + +“Address a line, if in penitence, to me here, where the lovely scenery, +and the society remind me much of Siberia-- + +“Edenderry, ‘The Pig and Pot-hooks.’” + +Having carefully read and re-read this letter, and having laid it before +those whose interests, like our own, were deeply involved, we really for +a time became thoroughly nonplussed. To disclaim any or all of the +intentions attributed to us in Mr. O’Leary’s letter, would have been +perfectly useless, so long as we held to our project of publishing +anything under his name. Of no avail to assure him that our “Loiterings +of Arthur O’Leary” were not his--that our hero was not himself. To +little purpose should we adduce that our Alter Ego was the hero of a +book by the Prebend of Lichfield, and “Charles Lever” given to the world +as a socialist. He cared for nothing of all this; _tenax propositi_, he +would listen to no explanation--unconditional, absolute, Chinese +submission were his only terms, and with these we were obliged to +comply. And yet how very ridiculous was the power he assumed. Was any +thing more common in practice than to write the lives of distinguished +men, even before their death, and who ever heard of the individual +seeking legal redress against his biographer except for libel? “Come, +come, Arthur,” said we to ourselves, “this threat affrights us not. Here +we begin Chap. XIV.--” + +Just then we turned our eyes mechanically towards the pile of manuscript +at our elbow, and could not help admiring the philosophy with which _he_ +spoke of condemning to the flames the fruit of _our_ labour. Still it +was evident, that Mr. O’Leary’s was no _brutem fulmen_, but very +respectable and downright thunder; and that in fact we should soon be, +where, however interesting it may make a young lady, it by no means +suits an elderly gentleman to be, viz.--in Chancery. + +“What’s to be done?” was the question, which like a tennis-ball we +pitched at each other. “We have it,” said we. “We’ll start at once for +Edenderry, and bring this with us,” pointing to our manuscript. “We’ll +show O’Leary how near immortality he was, and may still be, if not +loaded with obstinacy: We’ll read him a bit of our droll, and some +snatches of our pathetic passages. Well show him how the ‘Immortal +George’ intends to represent him. In a word, we’ll enchant him with the +fascinating position to which we mean to exalt him and before the +evening ends, obtain his special permission to deal with him, as before +now we have done with his betters, and--print him.” + +Our mind made up, no time was to be lost. We took our place in the Grand +Canal passage-boat for Edenderry; and wrapping ourselves up in our +virtue, and another thin garment they call a Zephyr, began our journey. + +We should have liked well, had our object permitted it, to have made +some brief notes of our own “Loiterings.” But the goal of our +wanderings, as well as of our thoughts, was ever before us, and we spent +the day imagining to ourselves the various modes by which we should make +our advances to the enemy, with most hope of success. Whether the +company themselves did not afford any thing very remarkable, or our own +preoccupation prevented our noticing it, certes, we jogged on, without +any consciousness that we were not perfectly alone, and this for some +twenty miles of the way. At last, however, the cabin became intolerably +hot. Something like twenty-four souls were imprisoned in a space ten +feet by three, which the humanity of the company of directors kindly +limits to forty-eight, a number which no human ingenuity could pack into +it, if living. The majority of the passengers were what by courtesy are +called ‘small farmers,’ namely, individuals weighing from eighteen to +six-and-twenty stone; priests, with backs like the gable of a chapel; +and a sprinkling of elderly ladies from the bog towns along the bank, +who actually resembled turf clamps in their proportions. We made an +effort to reach the door, and having at length succeeded, found to our +sorrow that the rain was falling heavily. Notwithstanding this, we +remained without, as long as we could venture, the oppressive heat +within being far more intolerable than even the rain. At length, +however, wet through and cold, we squeezed ourselves into a small corner +near the door, and sat down. But what a change had our unpropitious +presence evoked. We left our fellow-travellers, a noisy, jolly, semi- +riotous party, disputing over the markets, censuring Sir Robert, abusing +the poor-rates, and discussing various matters of foreign and domestic +policy, from Shah Shoojah to subsoil ploughs. A dirty pack of cards, and +even punch, were adding their fascinations to while away the tedious +hours; but now the company sat in solemn silence. The ladies looked +straight before them, without a muscle of their faces moving; the +farmers had lifted the collars of their frieze coats, and concealed +their hands within their sleeves, so as to be perfectly invisible; and +the reverend fathers, putting on dark and dangerous looks, spoke only in +monosyllables, no longer sipped their liquor in comfort, but rang the +bell from time to time, and ordered “another beverage,” a curious +smoking compound, that to our un-Matthewed senses, savoured suspiciously +of whiskey. + +It was a dark night when we reached the “Pig and Pot-hooks,” the +hostelry whence Mr. O’Leary had addressed us; and although not yet eight +o’clock, no appearance of light, nor any stir, announced that the family +were about. After some little delay, our summons was answered by a bare- +legged handmaiden, who, to our question if Mr. O’Leary stopped there, +without further hesitation opened a small door to the left, and +introduced us bodily into his august presence. + +Our travelled friend was seated, “_more suo_,” with his legs supported +on two chairs, while he himself in chief occupied a third, his wig being +on the arm of that one on which he reposed; a very imposing tankard, +with a floating toast, smoked on the table, and a large collection of +pipes of every grade, from the haughty hubble bubble, to the humble +dudeen, hung around on the walls. + +“Ha!” said he, as we closed the door behind us, and advanced into the +room, “and so you are penitent. Well, Hal, I forgive you. It was a +scurvy trick, though; but I remember it no longer. Here, take a pull at +the pewter, and tell us all the Dublin news.” + +It is not our intention, dear reader, to indulge in the same +mystification with you, that we practised on our friend Mr. O’Leary--or, +in other words, to invent for your edification, as we confess to have +done for his, all the events and circumstances which might have, but did +not, take place in Dublin for the preceding month. It is enough to say +that about eleven o’clock Mr. O’Leary was in the seventh heaven of +conversational contentment, and in the ninth flagon of purl. + +“Open it--let me see it. Come, Hal, divulge at once,” said he, kicking +the carpet-bag that contained our manuscript. We undid the lock, and +emptied our papers before him. His eyes sparkled as the heavy folds fell +over each other on the table, his mouth twitched with a movement of +convulsive pleasure. “Ring the bell, my lad,” said he; “the string is +beside you. Send the master, Mary,” continued he, as the maiden entered. + +Peter Mahoon soon made his appearance, rather startled at being summoned +from his bed, and evidencing in his toilette somewhat more of zeal than +dandyism. + +“Is the house insured, Peter?” said Mr. O’Leary. + +“No, sir,” rejoined he, with a searching look around the room, and a +sniff of his nose, to discover if he could detect the smell of fire. + +“What’s the premises worth, Peter?” + +“Sorrow one of me knows right, sir. Maybe a hundred and fifty, or it +might bring two hundred pounds.” + +“All right,” said O’Leary briskly, as seizing my manuscript with both +hands he hurled it on the blazing turf fire; and then grasping the +poker, stood guard over it, exclaiming as he did so,--“Touch it, and by +the beard of the Prophet I’ll brain you. Now, there it goes, blazing up +the chimney. Look how it floats up there! I never expected to travel +like that anyhow. Eh, Hal? Your work is a brilliant affair, isn’t it?-- +and as well puffed as if you entertained every newspaper editor in the +kingdom? And see,” cried he, as he stamped his foot upon the blaze, “the +whole edition is exhausted already--not a copy to be had for any money.” + +We threw ourselves back in our chair, and covered our face with our +hands. The toil of many a long night, of many a bright hour of sun and +wind, was lost to us for ever, and we may be pardoned if our grief was +heavy. + +“Cheer up, old fellow,” said he, as the last flicker of the burning +paper expired. “You know the thing was bad: it couldn’t be other. That +d----d fly-away harum-scarum style of yours is no more adapted to a work +of real merit, than a Will-o’-the-wisp would be for a light-house. +Another jug, Peter--bring two. The truth is, Hal, I was not so averse to +the publication of my life as to the infernal mess you’d have made of +it. You have no pathos, no tenderness--damn the bit.” + +“Come, come,” said we: “it is enough to burn our manuscript, but, +really, as to playing the critic in this fashion----” + +“Then,” continued he, “all that confounded folly you deal in, laughing +at the priests--Lord bless you, man! they have more fun, those fellows, +than you, and a score like you. There’s one Father Dolan here would tell +two stories for your one; ay, better than ever you told.” + +“We really have no ambition to enter the lists with your friend.” + +“So much the better--you’d get the worst of it; and as to knowledge of +character, see now, Peter Mahoon there would teach you human nature; and +if I liked myself to appear in print--” + +“Well,” said we, bursting out into a fit of laughter, “that would +certainly be amusing.” + +“And so it would, whether you jest or no. There’s in that drawer there, +the materials of as fine a work as ever appeared since Sir John Carr’s +Travels; and the style is a happy union of Goldsmith and Jean Paul-- +simple yet aphoristic--profound and pleasing--sparkling like the can +before me, but pungent and racy in its bitterness. Hand me that oak box, +Hal. Which is the key? At this hour one’s sight becomes always +defective. Ah, here it is look there!” + +We obeyed the command, and truly our amazement was great, though +possibly not for the reason that Mr. O’Leary could have desired; for +instead of anything like a regular manuscript, we beheld a mass of small +scraps of paper, backs of letters, newspapers, magazines, fly-leaves of +books, old prints, &c., scrawled on, in the most uncouth fashion; and +purporting from the numbers appended to be a continued narration of one +kind or other. + +“What’s all this?” said we. + +“These,” said he, “are really ‘The Loiterings of Arthur O’Leary.’ Listen +to this. Here’s a bit of Goldsmith for you-- + +“‘I was born of poor but respectable parents in the county------.’ What +are you laughing at? Is it because I did’nt open with--‘The sun was +setting, on the 25th of June, in the year 1763, as two travellers were +seen,’ &c., &c,? Eh? That’s your way, not mine. A London fellow told me +that my papers were worth five hundred pounds. Come, that’s what I call +something. Now I’ll go over to the ‘Row.’” + +“Stop a bit. Here seems something strange about the King of Holland.” + +“You mustn’t read them, though. No, no. That’ll never do--no, Hal; no +plagiarism. But, after all, I have been a little hasty with you, Perhaps +I ought not to have burned that thing; you were not to know it was bad.” + +“Eh! how?” + +“Why, I say, you might not see how absurd it was; so here’s your health, +Hal: either that tankard has been drugged, or a strange change has come +over my feelings. Harry Lorrequer, I’ll make your fortune, or rather +your son’s, for you are a wasteful creature, and will spend the proceeds +as fast as you get them; but the everlastingly-called-for new editions +will keep him in cash all his life. I’ll give you that box and its +contents; yes, I repeat it, it is yours. I see you are overpowered; +there, taste the pewter and you’ll get better presently. In that you’ll +find--a little irregular and carelessly-written perhaps--the sum of my +experience and knowledge of life--all my correspondence, all my private +notes, my opinions on literature, fine arts, politics, and the drama.” + +But we will not follow our friend into the soaring realms of his +imaginative flight, for it was quite evident that the tankard and the +tobacco were alone responsible for the lofty promises of his production. +In plain English, Mr. O’Leary was fuddled, and the only intelligible +part of his discourse was, an assurance that his papers were entirely at +our service; and that, as in some three weeks time, he hoped to be in +Africa, having promised to spend the Christmas with Abd-el-Kader, we +were left his sole literary executor, with full power to edit him in any +shape it might please us, lopping, cutting, omitting--anything, even to +adding, or interpolating. + +Such were his last orders, and having given them, Mr. O’Leary refilled +his pipe, closed his eyes, stretched out his legs to their fullest +extent, and although he continued at long intervals to evolve a blue +curl of smoke from the corner of his mouth, it was evident he was lost +in the land of dreams. + +In two hours afterwards we were on our way back to Dublin, bearing with +us the oaken box, which, however, it is but justice to ourselves to say, +we felt as a sad exchange for our own carefully-written manuscript. On +reaching home, our first care was to examine these papers, and see if +anything could be made of them, which might prove readable; +unfortunately, however, the mass consisted of brief memoranda, setting +forth how many miles Mr. O’Leary had walked on a certain day in the +November of 1803, and how he had supped on camel’s milk with an amiable +family of Bedouins, who had just robbed a caravan in the desert. His +correspondence, was for the most part an angry one with washerwomen and +hotel-keepers, and some rather curious hieroglyphic replies to dinner +invitations from certain people of rank in the Sandwich Islands. +Occasionally, however, we chanced on little bits of narrative, fragments +of stories, some of which his fellow-travellers had contributed, and +brief sketches of places and people that were rather amusing; but so +disjointed, broken up, and unconnected were they all, it was almost +impossible to give them anything like an arrangement, much less anything +like consecutive interest. + +All that lay in our power was to select from the whole, certain +portions, which, from their length, promised more of care than the mere +fragments about them, and present them to our readers with this brief +notice of the mode in which we obtained them--our only excuse for a most +irregular and unprecedented liberty in the practice of literature. With +this apology for the incompleteness and abruptness of “the O’Leary +Papers”--which happily we are enabled to make freely, as our friend +Arthur has taken his departure--we offer them to our readers, only +adding, that in proof of their genuine origin, the manuscript can be +seen by any one so desiring it, on application to our publishers; while, +for all their follies, faults, and inaccuracies, we desire to plead our +irresponsibility, as freely, as we wish to attribute any favour the +world may show them, to their real author: and with this last assurance, +we beg to remain, your ever devoted and obedient servant, + + + +ARTHUR O’LEARY. + + + +CHAPTER I. THE “ATTWOOD.” + +Old Woodcock says, that if Providence had not made him a Justice of the +Peace, he’d have been a vagabond himself. No such kind interference +prevailed in my case. I was a vagabond from my cradle. I never could be +sent to school, alone, like other children--they always had to see me +there safe, and fetch me back again. The rambling bump monopolized my +whole head. I’m sure my god-father must have been the wandering Jew, or +a king’s messenger. Here I am again, _en route_, and sorely puzzled to +know whither? There’s the fellow for my trunk. + +“What packet, sir?” + +“Eh? What packet? The vessel at the Tower stairs?” + +“Yes, sir; there are two with the steam up, the Rotterdam and the +Hamburgh.” + +“Which goes first?” + +“Why, I think the Attwood, sir.” + +“Well, then, shove aboard the Attwood. Where is she for?” + +“She’s for Rotterdam.----He’s a queer cove too,” said the fellow under +his teeth, as he moved out of the room, “and don’t seem to care where he +goes.” + +A capital lesson in life may be learned from the few moments preceding +departure from an inn. The surly waiter that always said “coming” when +he was leaving the room, and never came, now grown smiling and smirking; +the landlord expressing a hope to see you again, while he watches your +upthrown eyebrows at the exorbitancy of his bill: the boots attentively +looking from your feet to your face, and back again; the housemaid +passing and repassing a dozen times, on her way, no where, with a look +half saucy, half shy; the landlord’s son, an abortion of two feet high, +a kind of family chief remembrancer, that sits on a high stool in the +bar, and always detects something you have had, that was not “put down +in the bill”--two shillings for a cab, or a “brandy and water;” a curse +upon them all; this poll-tax upon travellers is utter ruin; your bill, +compared to its dependencies, is but Falstaffs “pennyworth of bread,” to +all the score for sack. + +Well, here I am at last. “Take care I say! you’ll upset us. Shove off, +Bill; ship your oar,” splash, splash. “Bear a hand. What a noise, they +make,” bang, crash, buzz; what a crowd of men in pilot coats and caps; +women in plaid shawls and big reticules, band-boxes, bags, and babies, +and what higgling for sixpences with the wherrymen. + +All the places round the companion are taken by pale ladies in black +silk, with a thin man in spectacles beside them; the deck is littered +with luggage, and little groups seated thereon; some very strange young +gentlemen with many-coloured waistcoats are going to Greenwich, and one +as far as Margate; a widow and daughters, rather prettyish girls, for +Herne Bay; a thin, bilious-looking man of about fifty, with four outside +coats, and a bearskin round his legs, reading beside the wheel, +occasionally taking a sly look at the new arrivals.--I’ve seen him +before; he is the Secretary of Embassy at Constantinople; and here’s a +jolly-looking, rosy-cheeked fellow, with a fat florid face, and two +dashing-looking girls in black velvet. Eh! who’s this? Sir Peter, the +steward calls him; a London Alderman going up the Rhine for two months-- +he’s got his courier, and a strong carriage, with the springs well +corded for the _pavé_;--but they come too fast for counting: so now I’ll +have a look after my berth. + +Alas! the cabin has been crowded all the while by some fifty others, +wrangling, scolding, laughing, joking, complaining, and threatening, and +not a berth to be had. + +“You’ve put me next the tiller,” said one; “I’m over the boiler,” + screamed another. + +“I have the pleasure of speaking to Sir Willoughby Steward,” said the +captain, to a tall, gray-headed, soldier-like figure, with a closely- +buttoned blue, frock. “Sir Willoughby, your berth is No. 8.” + +“Eh! that’s the way they come it,” whispers a Cockney to his friend. +“That ere chap gets a berth before us all.” + +“I beg your pardon, sir,” says the baronet mildly, “I took mine three +days ago.” + +“Oh! I didn’t mean anything,” stammers out the other, and sneaks off. + +“Laura-Mariar--where’s Laurar?” calls out a shrill voice from the aft- +cabin. + +“Here, Ma,” replies a pretty girl, who is arranging her ringlets at a +glass, much to the satisfaction of a young fellow in a braided frock, +that stands gazing at her in the mirror with something very like a smile +on his lip. + +There’s no mistaking that pair of dark-eyed fellows with aquiline noses +and black ill-shaven beards--Hamburgh or Dutch Jews, dealers in smuggled +lace, cigars, and Geneva watches, and occasionally small money-lenders. +How they scan the company, as if calculating the profit they might turn +them to! The very smile they wear seems to say, ‘_Comment c’est doux de +tromper les Chrétiens_.’ But, holloa! there was a splash! we are moving, +and the river is now more amusing than the passengers. + +I should like to see the man that ever saw London from the Thames; or +any part of it, save the big dome of St. Paul’s, the top of the +Monument, or the gable of the great black wharf inscribed with “Hodson’s +Pale Ale.” What a devil of a row they do make. I thought we were into +that fellow. See, here’s a wherry actually under our bow; where is she +now? are they all lost already? No! there they go bobbing up and down, +and looking after us, as if asking, why we didn’t sail over them. Ay! +there comes an Indiaman, and that little black slug that ‘s towing her +up against the stream, is one of the Tug Company’s craft; and see how +all the others at anchor keep tossing and pitching about, as we pass by, +like an awkward room full of company, rising at each new arrival. + +There’s Greenwich! a fine thing Greenwich. I like the old fellows that +the first lord always makes stand in front, without legs or arms; a +cheery sight: and there’s a hulk, or an hospital ship, or something of +that kind. + +“That’s the Hexcellent,” saith a shrill voice behind me. + +“Ah! I know her, she’s a revenue cruizer.” + +Lord, what liars are the Cockneys! The plot thickens every moment; here +come little bright green and gold things, shooting past, like dragon- +flies skimming the water, steaming down to Gravesend. What a mob of +parasols cover the deck, and what kissing of hands and waving of +handkerchiefs to anonymous acquaintances nowhere. More steamers--here’s +the “Boulogne boat,” followed by the Ostender, and there, rounding the +reach, comes the Ramsgate; and a white funnel, they say, is the Cork +packet; and yonder, with her steam escaping, is the Edinburgh, her deck +crowded with soldiers. + +“Port--port it is--steady there--steady.” + +“Do you dine, sir!” quoth the steward to the pale gentleman. A faint +“Yes,” “And the ladies too?” A more audible “No.” + +“I say, steward,” cries Sir Peter, “what’s the hour for dinner?” + +“Four o’clock, sir, after we pass Gravesend.” + +“Bring me some brandy and water and a biscuit, then.” + +“Lud, Pa!” + +“To be sure, dear, we shall be sick in the pool. They say there’s a head +wind.” + +How crowded they are on the fore-part of the vessel! six carriages and +eight horses; the latter belong to a Dutch dealer, who, by-the-by, seems +a shrewd fellow, who, well knowing the extreme sympathy between horses +and asses, leaves the care of his, to some Cockneys, who come down every +half hour to look after the tarpaulins, inspect the coverings, see the +knee-caps safe, find ask if they want “‘ay;” and all this, that to some +others on board, they may appear as sporting characters, well versed in +turf affairs, and quite up to stable management. + +When the life and animation of the crowded river is passed, how +vexatious it is to hear for the thousandth time the dissertation’s on +English habits, customs, and constitution, delivered by some ill- +informed, underbred fellow or other, to some eager German--a Frenchman +happily is too self-sufficient ever to listen--who greedily swallows the +farrago of absurdity, which, according to the politics of his informant, +represents the nation in a plethora of prosperity, or the last stage of +inevitable ruin. I scarcely know which I detest the more: the insane +toryism of the one, is about as sickening as the rabid radicalism of the +other. The absurd misapprehensions foreigners entertain about us, are, +in nine cases out of ten, communicated by our own people; and in this +way, I have always remarked a far greater degree of ignorance about +England and the English, to prevail among those who have passed some +weeks in the country, than, among such, as had never visited our shores. +With the former the Thames Tunnel is our national boast; raw beef and +boxing our national predilections; the public sale of our wives a +national practice. + +“But what’s this? our paddles are backed. Anything wrong, steward?” + +“No, sir, only another passenger coming aboard.” “How they pull, and +there’s a stiff sea tunning too. A queer figure that is in the stern +sheets; what a beard he has!” + +I had just time for the observation, when a tall, athletic man, wrapped +in a wide blue cloak, sprang on the deck--his eyes were shaded by large +green spectacles and the broad brim of a very projecting hat; a black +beard, a rabbi might have envied, descended from his chin, and hung down +upon his bosom; he chucked a crown-piece to the boatman as he leaned +over the bulwark, and then turning to the steward, called out--“Eh, Jem! +all right?” + +“Yes, sir, all right,” said the man, touching his hat respectfully! The +tall figure immediately disappeared down the companion-ladder, leaving +me in the most puzzling state of doubt as to what manner of man he could +possibly be. Had the problem been more easy of solution I should +scarcely have resolved it when he again emerged--but how changed! The +broad beaver had given place to a blue cloth foraging cap with a gold +band around it; the beard had disappeared totally, and left no successor +save a well-rounded chin; the spectacles also had vanished, and a pair +of sharp, intelligent, grey eyes, with a most uncommon degree of +knowingness in their expression, shone forth; and a thin and most +accurately-curled moustache graced his upper lip and gave a character of +Vandykism to his features, which were really handsome. In person he was +some six feet two, gracefully but strongly built; his costume, without +anything approaching conceit, was the perfection of fashionable attire-- +even to his gloves there was nothing which D’Orsay could have +criticised; while his walk was the very type of that mode of progression +which is only learned thoroughly by a daily stroll down St. James +Street, and the frequent practice of passing to and from Crockford’s, at +all hours of the day and night. + +The expression of his features was something so striking, I cannot help +noting it: there was a jauntiness, an ease, no smirking, half-bred, +self-satisfied look, such as a London linendraper might wear on his trip +to Margate; but a consummate sense of his own personal attractions and +great natural advantages, had given a character to his features which +seemed to say--it’s quite clear there’s no coming up to _me_; don’t try +it--_nascitur non fit_. His very voice implied it. The veriest +commonplace fell from him with a look, a smile, a gesture, a something +or other that made it tell; and men repeated his sayings without +knowing, that his was a liquor, that was lost in decanting. The way he +scanned the passengers, and it was done in a second, was the practised +observance of one, who reads character at a glance. Over the Cockneys, +and they were numerous, his eyes merely passed without bestowing any +portion of attention; while to the lady part of the company his look was +one of triumphant satisfaction, such as Louis XIV. might have bestowed +when he gazed at the thousands in the garden of Versailles, and +exclaimed, “_Oui! ces sont mes sujets_.” Such was the Honourable Jack +Smallbranes, younger son of a peer, ex-captain in the Life Guards, +winner of the Derby, but now the cleared-out man of fashion flying to +the Continent to escape from the Fleet, and cautiously coming aboard in +disguise below Gravesend, to escape the bore of a bailiff, and what he +called the horror of bills “detested.” + +We read a great deal about Cincinnatus cultivating his cabbages, and we +hear of Washington’s retirement when the active period of his career had +passed over, and a hundred similar instances are quoted for our +admiration, of men, who could throw themselves at once from all the +whirlwind excitement of great events, and seek, in the humblest and +least obtrusive position, an occupation and an enjoyment. But I doubt +very much if your ex-man of fashion, your _ci-devant_ winner of the +Derby--the adored of Almack’s--the _enfant chéri_ of Crockford’s and the +Clarendon, whose equipage was a model, whose plate was perfection, for +whom life seemed too short for all the fascinations wealth spread around +him, and each day brought the one embarrassment how to enjoy enough. I +repeat it, I doubt much if he, when the hour of his abdication arrives-- +and that it will arrive sooner or later not even himself entertains a +doubt--when Holditch protests, and Bevan proceeds; when steeds are sold +at Tattersall’s, and pictures at Christie’s; when the hounds pass over +to the next new victim, and the favourite for the St. Léger, backed with +mighty odds, is now entered under another name; when in lieu of the +bright eyes and honied words that make life a fairy tale, his genii are +black-whiskered bailiffs and auctioneers’ appraisers--if he, when the +tide of fortune sets in so strong against him, can not only sustain +himself for a while against it, and when too powerful at last, can lie +upon the current and float as gaily down, as ever he did joyously, up, +the stream--then, say I, all your ancient and modern instances are far +below him: all your warriors and statesmen are but poor pretenders +compared to him, they have retired like rich shopkeepers, to live on the +interest of their fortune, which is fame; while he, deprived of all the +accessories which gave him rank, place, and power, must seek within his +own resources for all the future springs of his pleasure, and be +satisfied to stand spectator of the game, where he was once the +principal player. A most admirable specimen of this philosophy was +presented by our new passenger, who, as he lounged against the binnacle, +and took a deliberate survey of his fellow-travellers, seemed the very +ideal of unbroken ease and undisturbed enjoyment: he knew he was ruined; +he knew he had neither house in town, or country; neither a steed, nor a +yacht, nor a preserve; he was fully aware, that Storr and Mortimer, who +would have given him a mountain of silver but yesterday, would not trust +him with a mustard-pot today; that even the “legs” would laugh at him if +he offered the odds on the Derby; and yet if you were bound on oath to +select the happiest fellow on board, by the testimony of your eyes, the +choice would not have taken you five minutes. His attitude was ease +itself: his legs slightly crossed, perhaps the better to exhibit a very +well-rounded instep, which shone forth in all the splendour of French +varnish: his travelling cap jauntily thrown on one side, so as to +display to better advantage his perfumed locks, that floated in a +graceful manner somewhat lengthily on his neck; the shawl around his +neck had so much of negligence, as to show that the splendid enamel pin +that fastened it, was a thing of little moment to the wearer: all were +in keeping with the _nonchalant_ ease, and self-satisfaction of his +look, as with half-drooping lids he surveyed the deck, caressing with +his jewelled fingers the silky line of his moustache, and evidently +enjoying in his inmost soul the triumphant scene of conquest his very +appearance excited. Indeed, a less practised observer than himself could +not fail to remark the unequivocal evidences the lady portion of the +community bore to his success: the old ones looked boldly at him with +that fearless intrepidity that characterizes conscious security--their +property was insured, and they cared not how near the fire came to them; +the very young participated in the sentiment from an opposite reason-- +theirs was the unconsciousness of danger; but there was a middle term, +what Balzac calls, “_la femme de trente ans_,” and she either looked +over the bulwarks, or at the funnel, or on her book, any where in short +but at our friend, who appeared to watch this studied denial on her +part, with the same kind of enjoyment the captain of a frigate would +contemplate the destruction his broadsides were making on his enemy’s +rigging--and perhaps the latter never deemed his conquest more assured +by the hauling down of he enemy’s colours, than did the “Honourable +Jack,” when a letdown veil convinced him that the lady could bear no +more. + +I should like to have watched the proceedings on deck, where, although +no acquaintance had yet been formed, the indications of such were +clearly visible: the Alderman’s daughters evincing a decided preference +for walking on that side where Jack was standing, he studiously +performing some small act of courtesy from time to time as they passed, +removing a seat, kicking any small fragment of rope, &c.; but the motion +of the packet began to advertize me that note-taking was at an end, and +the best thing I could do would be to compose myself. + +“What’s the number, sir?” said the steward, as I staggered down the +companion. + +“I have got no berth,” said I mournfully. + +“A dark horse, not placed,” said the Honourable Jack, smiling pleasantly +as he looked after me, while I threw myself on a sofa, and cursed the +sea. + + + +CHAPTER II. THE BOAR’S HEAD AT ROTTERDAM. + +If the noise and bustle which attend a wedding, like trumpets in a +battle, are intended as provisions against reflection, so firmly do I +feel, the tortures of sea-sickness, are meant as antagonists to all the +terrors of drowning, and all the horrors of shipwreck. + +Let him who has felt the agonies of that internal earthquake which the +“pitch and toss” motion of a ship communicates--who knows what it is, to +have his diaphragm vibrating between his ribs and the back of his +throat, confess, how little to him was all the confusion which he +listened to, over head! how poor the interest he took in the welfare of +the craft wherein he was “only a lodger,” and how narrowed were all his +sympathies within the small circle of bottled porter, and brandy and +water, the steward’s infallibles in suffering. + +I lay in my narrow crib, moody pondering over these things, now +wondering within myself, what charms of travel could recompense such +agonies as these; now muttering a curse, “not loud, but deep,” on the +heavy gentleman, whose ponderous tread on the quarter-deck seemed to +promenade up and down the surface of my own pericranium: the greasy +steward, the jolly captain, the brown-faced, black-whiskered king’s +messenger, who snored away on the sofa, all came in for a share of my +maledictions, and took out my cares, in curses upon the whole party. +Meanwhile I could distinguish, amid the other sounds, the elastic tread +of certain light feet that pattered upon the quarter-deck; and I could +not mistake the assured footstep which accompanied them, nor did I need +the happy roar of laughter that mixed with the noise, to satisfy myself +that the “Honourable Jack” was then cultivating the Alderman’s +daughters, discoursing most eloquently upon the fascinations of those +exclusive circles wherein he was wont to move, and explaining, on the +clearest principles, what a frightful chasm his absence must create in +the London world--how deplorably flat would the season go off, where he +was no actor--and wondering, who, among the aspirants of high ambition, +would venture to assume his line of character, and supply his place, +either on the turf, or at the table. + +But at length the stage of semi-stupor came over me; the noises became +commixed in my head, and I lost all consciousness so completely, that, +whether from brandy or sickness, I fancied I saw the steward flirting +with the ladies, and the “Honourable Jack” skipping about with a white +apron, uncorking porter bottles, and changing sixpences. + +***** ***** + +The same effect which the announcement of dinner produces on the stiff +party in the drawing-room, is caused by the information of being +alongside the quay, to the passengers of a packet. It is true the +procession is not so formal in the latter as in the former case: the +turbaned dowagers that take the lead in one, would, more than probably, +be last in the other: but what is lost in decorum, is more than made up +in hilarity. What hunting for carpet-bags! what opening and shutting of +lockers! what researches into portmanteaus, to extricate certain +seizable commodities, and stow them away upon the person of the owner, +till at last he becomes an impersonation of smuggling, with lace in his +boots, silk stockings in his hat, brandy under his waistcoat, and +jewelry in the folds of his cravat. There is not an item in the tariff +that might not be demonstrated in his anatomy: from his shoes to his +night-cap, he is a living sarcasm upon the revenue. And, after all, what +is the searching scrutiny of your Quarterly Reviewer, to the all- +penetrating eye of an excise officer? He seems to look into the whole +contents, of your wardrobe before you have unlocked the trunk “warranted +solid leather,” and with a glance appears to distinguish the true man +from the knave, knowing, as if by intuition, the precise number of +cambric handkerchiefs that befits your condition in life, and whether +you have transgressed the bounds of your station, by a single bottle. + +What admirable training for a novelist would a year or two spent in such +duties afford; what singular views of life; what strange people must he +see; how much of narrative would even the narrow limits of a hat-box +present to him; and how naturally would a story spring from the rosy- +cheeked old gentleman, paying his duty upon a “_pâté de fois-gras_” to +his pretty daughter, endeavouring, by a smile, to diminish the tariff on +her French bonnet, and actually captivate a custom-house officer by the +charms of her “_robe a la Victorine_.” + +The French “_douaniers_,” are droll fellows, and are the only ones I +have ever met who descend from the important gravity of their +profession, and venture upon a joke. I shall never forget entering +Valenciennes late one night, with a large “Diligence” party, among which +was a corpulent countryman of my own, making his first continental tour. +It was in those days when a passport presented a written portrait of the +bearer; when the shape of your nose, the colour of your hair, the cut of +your beard, and the angle of incidence of your eyebrow, were all noted +down and commented on, and a general summing up of the expression of +your features, collectively, appended to the whole; and you went forth +to the-world with an air “mild,” or “military;” “feeble,” “fascinating,” + or “ferocious,” exactly as the foreign office deemed it. It was in those +days, I say, when, on entering the fortress of Valenciennes, the door of +the “Diligence” was rudely thrown open, and, by the dim nicker of a +lamp, we beheld a moustached, stern-looking fellow, who rudely demanded +our passports. My fat companion, suddenly awakened from his sleep, +searched his various pockets with all the trepidation of a new +traveller, and at length, produced his credentials, which he handed, +with a polite bow, to the official. Whatever the nature of the +description I cannot say, but it certainly produced the most striking +effect on the passport officers, who laughed loud and long as they read +it over. + +“_Descendez, Monsieur_” said the chief of the party, in a tone of stern +command. + +“What does he say?” said the traveller, in a very decided western +accent. + +“You must get out, sir” said he. + +“Tare-an-ages,” said Mr. Moriarty, “what’s wrong?” + +After considerable squeezing, for he weighed about twenty stone, he +disengaged himself from the body of the “Diligence,” and stood erect +upon the ground. A second lantern was now produced, and while one of the +officers stood on either side of him, with a light beside his face, a +third read out the clauses of the passport, and compared the description +with the original. Happily, Mr. Moriarty’s ignorance of French saved him +from the penalty of listening to the comments which were passed upon his +“_nez retroussé_” “_bouche ouverte_” &c.; but what was his surprise +when, producing some yards of tape, they proceeded to measure him round +the body, comparing the number of inches his circumference made, with +the passport. + + +“_Quatre-vingt-dix pouces_,” said the measurer, looking at the document, +“_Il en a plus_,” added he, rudely. + +“What is he saying, sir, if I might be so bowld?” said Mr. Moriarty to +me, imploringly. + +“You measure more than is set down in your passport,” said I, +endeavouring to suppress my laughter. + +“Oh, murther! that dish of boiled beef and beet-root will be the ruin of +me. Tell them, sir, I was like a greyhound before supper.” + +As he said this, he held in his breath, and endeavoured, with all his +might, to diminish his size; while the Frenchmen, as if anxious to +strain a point in his favour, tightened the cord round him, till he +almost became black in the face. + +“_C’est ça_” said one of the officers, smiling blandly as he took off +his hat; “_Monsieur peut continuer sa route_.” + +“All right,” said I, “you may come in, Mr. Moriarty.” + +“‘Tis civil people I always heard they wor,” said he; “but it’s a +sthrange country where it’s against the laws to grow fatter.” + +I like Holland;--it is the antipodes of France. No one is ever in a +hurry here. Life moves on in a slow majestic stream, a little muddy and +stagnant, perhaps, like one of their own canals, but you see no waves, +no breakers--not an eddy, nor even a froth-bubble breaks the surface. +Even a Dutch child, as he steals along to school, smoking his short +pipe, has a mock air of thought about him. The great fat horses, that +wag along, trailing behind them some petty, insignificant truck, loaded +with a little cask, not bigger than a life-guardsman’s helmet, look as +though Erasmus was performing duty as a quadruped, and walking about his +own native city in harness. It must be a glorious country to be born in. +No one is ever in a passion; and as to honesty, who has energy enough to +turn robber? The eloquence, which in other lands might wind a man from +his allegiance, would be tried in vain here. Ten minutes’ talking would +set any audience asleep, from Zetland to Antwerp. Smoking, beer- +drinking, stupifying, and domino-playing, go on, in summer, before, in +winter, within, the _cafés_, and every broad flat face that you look +upon, with its watery eyes and muddy complexion, seems like a coloured +chart of the country that gave it birth. + +How all the industry, that has enriched them, is ever performed--how all +the cleanliness, for which their houses are conspicuous, is ever +effected, no one can tell. Who ever saw a Dutchman labour? Every thing +in Holland seems typified by one of their own drawbridges, which rises +as a boat approaches, by invisible agency, and then remains patiently +aloft, till a sufficiency of passengers arrives to restore it to its +place, and Dutch gravity seems the grand centre of all prosperity. + +When, therefore, my fellow-passengers stormed and swore because they +were not permitted to land their luggage; when they heard that until +nine o’clock the following morning, no one would be astir to examine it; +and that the Rhine steamer sailed at eight, and would not sail again for +three days more, and cursed the louder thereat; I chuckled to myself +that I was going no where, that I cared not how long I waited, nor +where, and began to believe that something of very exalted philosophy +must have been infused into my nature without my ever being aware of it. + +For twenty minutes and more, Sir Peter abused the Dutch; he called them +hard names in English, and some very strong epithets in bad French. +Meanwhile, his courier busied himself in preparations for departure, and +the “Honourable Jack” undertook to shawl the young ladies, a performance +which, whether from the darkness of the night, or the intricacy of the +muffling, took a most unmerciful time to accomplish. + +“We shall never find the hotel at this hour,” said Sir Peter, angrily. + +“The house will certainly be closed,” chimed in the young ladies. + +“Take your five to two on the double event,” replied Jack, slapping the +Alderman on the shoulder, and preparing to book the wager. + +I did not wait to see it accepted, but stepped over the side, and +trudged along the “Boomjes,” that long quay, with its tall elm trees, +under whose shade many a burgomaster has strolled at eve, musing over +the profits which his last venture from Batavia was to realize; and +then, having crossed the narrow bridge at the end, I traversed the +Erasmus Plata, and rang boldly, as an old acquaintance has a right to +do, at the closed door of the “Schwein Kopf.” My summons was not long +unanswered, and following the many-petticoated handmaiden along the +well-sanded passage, I asked, “Is the Holbein chamber unoccupied?” while +I drew forth a florin from my purse. + +“Ah, Mynheer knows it then,” said she, smiling. “It is at your service. +We have had no travellers for some days past, and you are aware, that, +except greatly crowded, we never open it.” + +This I knew well, and having assured her that I was an _habitué_ of the +Schwein Kopf, in times long past, I persuaded her to fetch some dry wood +and make me a cheerful fire, which, with a “krug of schiedam” and some +“canastre,” made me as happy as a king. + +The “Holbeiner Kammer” owes its name, and any repute that it enjoys, to +a strange, quaint portrait, of that master seated at a fire, with a fair +headed, handsome child, sitting cross-legged on the hearth before him. A +certain half resemblance seems to run through both faces, although the +age and colouring are so different. But the same contemplative +expression, the deep-set eye, the massive forehead and pointed chin, are +to be seen in the child, as in the man. + +This was Holbein and his nephew, Franz von Holbein, who in after years +served with distinction in the army of Louis Quatorze. The background of +the picture represents a room exactly like the chamber--a few highly- +carved oak chairs, the Utrecht velvet-backs glowing with their scarlet +brilliancy, an old-fashioned Flemish bed, with groups of angels, +neptunes, bacchanals, and dolphins, all mixed up confusedly in quaint +carving; and a massive frame to a very small looking-glass, which hung +in a leaning attitude over the fire-place, and made me think, as I gazed +at it, that the plane of the room was on an angle of sixty-five, and +that the least shove would send me clean into the stove. + +“Mynheer wants nothing?” said the _Vrow_ with a courtsy. + +“Nothing,” said I, with my most polite bow. + +“Good night, then,” said she; “_schlaf wohl_, and don’t mind the ghost.” + +“Ah, I know him of old,” replied I, striking the table three times with +my cane. The woman, whose voice the moment before was in a tone of jest, +suddenly grew pale, and, as she crossed herself devoutly, muttered-- +“_Nein! Nein!_ don’t do that;” and shutting the door, hurried down +stairs with all the speed she could muster. + +I was in no hurry to bed, however. The “krug” was racy, the “canastre” + excellent: so, placing the light where it should fall with good effect +on the Holbein, I stretched out my legs to the blaze; and, as I looked +upon the canvas, began to muse over the story with which it was +associated, and which I may as well jot down here, for memory’s sake. + +Frank Holbein, having more ambition and less industry than the rest of +his family, resolved to seek his fortune; and early in the September of +the year 1681, he found himself wandering in the streets of Paris, +without a _liard_ in his pocket, or any prospects of earning one. He was +a fine-looking, handsome youth, of some eighteen or twenty years, with a +sharp, piercing look, and that Spanish cast of face for which so many +Dutch families are remarkable. He sat down, weary and hungry, on one of +the benches of the Pont de la Cité, and looked about him wistfully, to +see what piece of fortune might come to his succour. A loud shout, and +the noise of people flying in every direction, attracted him. He jumped +up, and saw persons running hither and thither to escape from a calèche, +which a pair of runaway horses were tearing along at a frightful rate. +Frank blessed himself, threw off his cloak, pressed his cap firmly upon +his brow, and dashed forward. The affrighted animals slackened their +speed as he stood before them, and endeavoured to pass by; but he sprang +to their heads, and with one vigorous plunge, grasped the bridle; but +though he held on manfully, they continued their way; and, +notwithstanding his every effort, their mad speed scarcely felt his +weight, as he was dragged along beside them. With one tremendous effort, +however, he wrested the near horse’s head from the pole, and, thus +compelling him to cross his fore-legs, the animal tripped, and came +headlong to the ground with a smash, that sent poor Frank spinning some +twenty yards before them. Frank soon got up again; and though his +forehead was bleeding, and his hand severely cut, his greatest grief +was, his torn doublet, which, threadbare before, now hung around him in +ribbons. + +“It was you who stopped them?--are you hurt?” said a tall, handsome man, +plainly but well dressed, and in whose face the trace of agitation was +clearly marked. + +“Yes, sir,” said Frank, bowing respectfully. “I did it; and see how my +poor doublet has suffered!” + +“Nothing worse than that?” said the other, smiling blandly. “Well, well, +that is not of so much moment. Take this,” said he, handing him his +purse; “buy yourself a new doublet, and wait on me to-morrow by eleven.” + +With these words the stranger disappeared in a calèche, which seemed to +arrive at the moment, leaving Frank in a state of wonderment at the +whole adventure. + +“How droll he should never have told me where he lives!” said he, aloud, +as the bystanders crowded about him, and showered questions upon him. + +“It is Monsieur le Ministre, man--M. de Louvois himself, whose life +you’ve saved. Your fortune is made for ever.” + +The speech was a true one. Before three months from that eventful day, +M. de Louvois, who had observed and noted down certain traits of +acuteness in Frank’s character, sent for him to his _bureau_. + +“Holbein,” said he, “I have seldom been deceived in my opinion of men-- +you can be secret, I think.” + +Frank placed his hand upon his breast, and bowed in silence. + +“Take the dress you will find on that chair: a carriage is now ready, +waiting in the court-yard--get into it, and set out for Bâle. On your +arrival there, which will be--mark me well--about eight o’clock on the +morning of Thursday, you’ll leave the carriage, and send it into the +town, while you must station yourself on the bridge over the Rhine, and +take an exact note of everything that occurs, and every one that passes, +till the cathedral clock strikes three. Then, the calèche will be in +readiness for your return; and lose not a moment in repairing to Paris.” + +It was an hour beyond midnight, in the early part of the following week, +that a calèche, travel-stained and dirty, drove into the court of the +minister’s hotel, and five minutes after, Frank, wearied and exhausted, +was ushered into M. de Louvois’ presence. + +“Well, Monsieur,” said he impatiently, “what have you seen?” + +“This, may it please your Excellency,” said Frank, trembling, “is a note +of it; but I am ashamed that so trivial an account----” + +“Let us see--let us see,” said the minister. + +“In good truth, I dare scarcely venture to read such a puerile detail.” + +“Read it at once, Monsieur,” was the stern command. + +Frank’s face became deep-red with shame, as he began thus:-- + +“Nine o’clock.--I see an ass coming along, with a child leading him. The +ass is blind of one eye.--A fat German sits on the balcony, and is +spitting into the Rhine----” + +“Ten.--A livery servant from Bâle rides by, with a basket. An old +peasant in a yellow doublet----” + +“Ah, what of him? + +“Nothing remarkable, save that he leans over the rails, and strikes +three blows with his stick upon them. + +“Enough, enough,” said M. de Louvois, gaily. “I must awake the king at +once.” + +The minister disappeared, leaving Frank in a state of bewilderment. In +less than a quarter of an hour he entered the chamber, his face covered +with smiles. + +“Monsieur,” said he, “you have rendered his majesty good service. Here +is your brevet of colonel.--The king has this instant signed it.” + +In eight days after, was the news known in Paris, that Strasburg, then +invested by the French army, had capitulated, and been reunited to the +kingdom. The three strokes of the cane being the signal, which announced +the success of the secret negotiation between the ministers of Louis +XIV., and the magistrates of Strasburg. + +This, was the Franz Holbein of the picture, and if the three _coups de +bâton_ are not attributable to his ghost, I can only say, I am totally +at a loss to say where they should be charged; for my own part, I ought +to add, I never heard them, conduct which I take it was the more +ungracious on the ghost’s part, as I finished the schiedam, and passed +my night on the hearth rug, leaving the feather-bed with its down +coverlet quite at master Frank’s disposal. + +Although the “Schwein Kopf” stands in one of the most prominent squares +of Rotterdam, and nearly opposite the statue of Erasmus, it is +comparatively little known to English travellers. The fashionable hotels +which are near the quay of landing, anticipate the claims of this more +primitive house; and yet, to any one desirous of observing the ordinary +routine of a Dutch family, it is well worth a visit. The buxsom Vrows +who trudge about with short but voluminous petticoats, their heads +ornamented by those gold or silver circlets, which no Dutch peasant +seems ever to want, are exactly the very types of what you see in an +Ostade or a Teniers. The very host himself, old Hoogendorp, is a study; +scarcely five feet in height, he might measure nearly nine, in +circumference, and in case of emergency could be used as a sluicegate, +should any thing happen to the dykes. He was never to be seen before one +o’clock in the day, but exactly as the clock tolled that hour, the +massive soup-tureen, announcing the commencement of the _table d’hôte_, +was borne in state before him, while with “solemn step and slow,” ladle +in hand, and napkin round his neck, he followed after. His conduct at +table was a fine specimen of Dutch independence of character--he never +thought of bestowing those petty attentions which might cultivate the +good-will of his guests; he spoke little, he smiled never; a short nod +of recognition bestowed upon a townsman, was about the extent of royal +favour he was ever known to confer; or occasionally, when any remark +made near him seemed to excite his approbation, a significant grunt of +approval ratified the wisdom of the speech, and made a Solon of the +speaker. His spoon descended into the soup, and emerged therefrom with +the ponderous regularity of a crane into the hold of a ship. Every +function of the table was performed with an unbroken monotony, and +never, in the course of his forty years’ sovereignty, was he known to +distribute an undue quantity of fat, or an unseemly proportion of beet- +root sauce, to any one guest in preference to another. + +The _table d’hôte_, which began at one, concluded a little before three, +during which time our host, when not helping others, was busily occupied +in helping himself, and it was truly amazing to witness the steady +perseverance with which he waded through every dish, making himself +master in all its details of every portion of the dinner, from the +greasy soup, to that _acmé_ of Dutch epicurism--Utrecht cheese. About a +quarter before three, the long dinner drew to its conclusion. Many of +the guests, indeed, had disappeared long before that time, and were deep +in all their wonted occupations of timber, tobacco, and train-oil. A +few, however, lingered on to the last. A burly major of infantry, who, +unbuttoning his undress frock, towards the close of the feast, would sit +smoking, and sipping his coffee, as if unwilling to desert the field; a +grave, long-haired professor; and, perhaps, an officer of the excise, +waiting for the re-opening of the custom-house, would be the extent of +the company. But even these dropped off at last, and, with a deep bow to +mine host, passed away to their homes, or their haunts. Meanwhile, the +waiters hurried hither and thither, the cloth was removed, in its place +a fresh one was spread, and all the preliminaries for a new dinner were +set about with the same activity as before. The napkins inclosed in +their little horn cases, the decanters of beer, the small dishes of +preserved fruit, without which no Dutchman dines, were all set forth, +and the host, without stirring from his seat, sat watching the +preparations with calm complacency. Were you to note him narrowly, you +could perceive that his eyes alternately opened and shut, as if +relieving guard, save which, he gave no other sign of life, nor even at +last, when the mighty stroke of three rang out from the cathedral, and +the hurrying sound of many feet proclaimed the arrival of the guests of +the second table, did he ever exhibit the slightest show or mark of +attention, but sat calm, and still, and motionless. + +For the next two hours, it was merely a repetition of the performance +which preceded it, in which the host’s part was played with untiring +energy, and all the items of soup, fish, _bouilli_, fowl, pork, and +vegetables, had not to complain of any inattention to their merits, or +any undue preference for their predecessors, of an hour before. If the +traveller was astonished at his appetite during the first table, what +would he say to his feats at the second? As for myself, I honestly +confess I thought that some harlequin trick was concerned, and that mine +host of the “Schwein Kopf” was not a real man, but some mechanical +contrivance by which, with a trapdoor below him, a certain portion of +the dinner was conveyed to the apartments beneath. I lived, however, to +discover my error; and after four visits to Rotterdam, was at length so +far distinguished as actually to receive an invitation to pass an +evening with “Mynheer” in his own private den, which, I need scarcely +say, I gladly accepted. + +I have a note of that evening some where--ay, here it is--“Mynheer is +waiting supper,” said a waiter to me, as I sat smoking my cigar, one +calm evening in autumn, in the porch of the “Schwein Kopf.” I followed +the man through a long passage, which, leading to the kitchen, emerged +on the opposite side, and conducted us through a little garden to a +small summer-house. The building, which was of wood, was painted in +gaudy stripes of red, blue, and yellow, and made in some sort to +resemble those Chinese pagodas, we see upon a saucer. Its situation was +conceived in the most perfect Dutch taste--one side, flanked by the +little garden of which I have spoken, displayed a rich bed of tulips and +ranunculuses, in all the gorgeous luxuriance of perfect culture--it was +a mass of blended beauty, and perfume, superior to any thing I have ever +witnessed. On the other flank, lay the sluggish, green-coated surface, +of a Dutch canal, from which rose the noxious vapours of a hot evening, +and the harsh croakings of ten thousand frogs, “fat, gorbellied knaves,” + the very burgomasters of their race, who squatted along the banks, and +who, except for the want of pipes, might have been mistaken for small +Dutchmen enjoying an evening’s promenade. This building was denominated +“Lust und Rust,” which, in letters of gold, was displayed on something +resembling a sign-board, above the door, and intimated to the traveller, +that the temple was dedicated to pleasure, and contentment. To a +Dutchman, however, the sight of the portly figure, who sat smoking at +the open window, was a far more intelligible illustration of the objects +of the building, than any lettered inscription. Mynheer Hoogendorp, with +his long Dutch pipe, and tall flagon, with its shining brass lid, looked +the concentrated essence of a Hollander, and might have been hung out, +as a sign of the country, from the steeple of Haarlem. + +The interior was in perfect keeping with the designation of the +building: every appliance that could suggest ease, if not sleep, was +there; the chairs were deep, plethoric-looking, Dutch chairs, that +seemed as if they had led a sedentary life, and throve upon it; the +table was a short, thick-legged one, of dark oak, whose polished surface +reflected the tall brass cups, and the ample features of Mynheer, and +seemed to hob-nob with him when he lifted the capacious vessel to his +lips; the walls were decorated with quaint pipes, whose large porcelain +bowls bespoke them of home origin; and here and there a sea-fight, with +a Dutch three-decker hurling destruction on the enemy. But the genius of +the place was its owner, who, in a low fur cap and slippers, whose shape +and size might have drawn tears of envy from the Ballast Board, sat +gazing upon the canal in a state of Dutch rapture, very like apoplexy. +He motioned me to a chair without speaking--he directed me to a pipe, by +a long whiff of smoke from his own--he grunted out a welcome, and then, +as if overcome by such unaccustomed exertion, he lay back in his chair, +and sighed deeply. + +We smoked till the sun went down, and a thicker haze, rising from the +stagnant ditch, joined with the tobacco vapour, made an atmosphere, like +mud reduced to gas. Through the mist, I saw a vision of soup tureens, +hot meat, and smoking vegetables. I beheld as though Mynheer moved among +the condiments, and I have a faint dreamy recollection of his performing +some feat before me; but whether it was carving, or the sword exercise, +I won’t be positive. + +Now, though the schiedam was strong, a spell was upon me, and I could +not speak; the great green eyes that glared on me through the haze, +seemed to chill my very soul; and I drank, out of desperation, the +deeper. + +As the evening wore on, I waxed bolder: I had looked upon the Dutchman +so long, that my awe of him began to subside, and I at last grew bold +enough to address him. + +I remember well, it was pretty much with that kind of energy, that semi- +desperation, with which a man nerves himself to accost a spectre, that I +ventured on addressing him: how or in what terms I did it, heaven knows! +Some trite every-day observation about his great knowledge of life--his +wonderful experience of the world, was all I could muster; and when I +had made it, the sound of my own voice terrified me so much, that I +finished the can at a draught, to reanimate my courage. + +“Ja! Ja!” said Van Hoogendorp, in a cadence as solemn as the bell of the +cathedral; “I have seen many strange things; I remember what few men +living can remember: I mind well the time when the ‘Hollandische Vrow’ +made her first voyage from Batavia, and brought back a paroquet for the +burgomaster’s wife; the great trees upon the Boomjes were but saplings +when I was a boy; they were not thicker than my waist;” here he looked +down upon himself with as much complacency as though he were a sylph. +“Ach Gott! they were brave times, schiedam cost only half a guilder the +krug.” + +I waited in hopes he would continue, but the glorious retrospect he had +evoked, seemed to occupy all his thoughts, and he smoked away without +ceasing. + +“You remember the Austrians, then?” said I, by way of drawing him on. + +“They were dogs!” said he, spitting out. + +“Ah!” said I, “the French were better then?” + +“Wolves!” ejaculated he, after glowing on me fearfully. + +There was a long pause after this; I perceived that I had taken a wrong +path to lead him into conversation, and he was too deeply overcome with +indignation to speak. During this time, however, his anger took a +thirsty form, and he swigged away at the schiedam most manfully. + +The effect of his libations became at last evident, his great green +stagnant eyes flashed and flared, his wide nostrils swelled and +contracted, and his breathing became short and thick, like the +convulsive sobs of a steam-engine when they open and shut the valves +alternately; I watched these indications for some time, wondering what +they might portend, when at length he withdrew his pipe from his mouth, +and with such a tone of voice as he might have used, if confessing a +bloody and atrocious murder, he said-- + +“I will tell you a story.” + +Had the great stone figure of Erasmus beckoned to me across the +marketplace, and asked me the news “on change,” I could not have been +more amazed; and not venturing on the slightest interruption, I refilled +my pipe, and nodded sententiously across the table, while he thus began. + + + +CHAPTER III. VAN HOOGENDORP’S TALE. + +It was in the winter of the year 1806, the first week of December, the +frost was setting in, and I resolved to pay a visit to my brother, whom +I hadn’t seen for forty years; he was burgomaster of Antwerp. It is a +long voyage and a perilous one, but with the protection of Providence, +our provisions held out, and on the fourth night after we sailed, a +violent shock shook the vessel from stem to stern, and we found +ourselves against the quay of Antwerp. + +When I reached my brother’s house I found him in bed, sick; the doctors +said it was a dropsy, I don’t know how that might be, for he drank more +gin than any man in Holland, and hated water all his life. We were +twins, but no one would have thought so, I looked so thin and meagre +beside him. + +Well, since I was there, I resolved to see the sights of the town; and +the next morning, after breakfast, I set out by myself, and wandered +about till evening. Now there were many things to be seen--very strange +things too; the noise, and the din, and the bustle, addled and confused +me; the people were running here and there, shouting as if they were +mad, and there were great flags hanging out of the windows, and drums +beating, and, stranger than all, I saw little soldiers with red breeches +and red shoulder-knots, running about like monkeys. + +“What is all this?” said I to a man near me. + +“Methinks,” said he, “the burgomaster himself might well know what it +is.” + +“I am not the burgomaster,” quoth I, “I am his brother, and only came +from Rotterdam yesterday.” + +“Ah! then,” said another, with a strange grin, “you didn’t know these +preparations were meant to welcome your arrival.” + +“No,” said I; “but they are very fine, and if there were not so much +noise, I would like them well.” + +And so, I sauntered on till I came to the great Platz, opposite the +cathedral--that was a fine place--and there was a large man carved in +cheese over one door, very wonderful to see; and there was a big fish, +all gilt, where they sold herrings; but, in the town-hall there seemed +something more than usual going on, for great crowds were there, and +dragoons were galloping in and galloping out, and all was confusion. + +“What’s this?” said I. “Are the dykes open?” + +But not one would mind me; and then suddenly I heard some one call out +my name. + +“Where is Van Hoogendorp?” said one; and then another cried, “Where is +Van Hoogendorp?” + +“Here am I,” said I; and the same moment two officers, covered with gold +lace, came through the crowd, and took me by the arms. + +“Come along with us, Monsieur de Hoogendorp,” said they, in French; +“there is not a moment to lose; we have been looking for you every +where.” + +Now, though I understand that tongue, I cannot speak it myself, so I +only said “Ja, Ja,” and followed them. + +They led me up an oak stair, and through three or four large rooms, +crowded with officers in fine uniforms, who all bowed as I passed, and +some one went before us, calling out in a loud voice, “Monsieur de +Hoogendorp!” + +“This is too much honour,” said I, “far too much;” but as I spoke in +Dutch, no one minded me. Suddenly, however, the wide folding-doors were +flung open, and we were ushered into a large hall, where, although above +a hundred people were assembled, you might have heard a pin drop; the +few who spoke at all, did so, only in whispers. + +“Monsieur de Hoogendorp!” shouted the man again. + +“For shame,” said I; “don’t disturb the company;” and I thought some of +them laughed, but he only bawled the louder, “Monsieur de Hoogendorp!” + +“Let him approach,” said a quick, sharp voice, from the fireplace. + +“Ah!” thought I, “they are going to read me an address. I trust it may +be in Dutch.” + +They led me along in silence to the fire, before which, with his back +turned towards it, stood a short man, with a sallow, stern countenance, +and a great, broad forehead, his hair combed straight over it. He wore a +green coat with white facings, and over that a grey surtout with fur. I +am particular about all this, because this little man was a person of +consequence. + +“You are late, Monsieur de Hoogendorp,” said he, in French; “it is half- +past four;” and so saying, he pulled out his watch, and held it up +before me. + +“Ja!” said I, taking out my own, “we are just the same time.” + +At this he stamped upon the ground, and said something I thought was a +curse. + +“Where are the _Echevins_, monsieur?” said he. + +“God knows,” said I; “most probably at dinner.” + +“_Ventrebleu!_----” + +“Don’t swear,” said I. “If I had you in Rotterdam, I’d fine you two +guilders.” + +“What does he say?” while his eyes flashed fire. “Tell _La grande +morue_, to speak French.” + +“Tell him I am not a cod fish,” said I. + +“Who speaks Dutch here?” said he. “General de Ritter, ask him where are +the _Echevins_, or, is the man a fool?” + +“I have heard,” said the General, bowing obsequiously--“I have heard, +your Majesty, that he is little better.” + +“_Tonnerre de Dieu!_” said he; “and this is their chief magistrate! +Maret, you must look to this to-morrow; and as it grows late now, let us +see the citadel at once; he can show us the way thither, I suppose”; and +with this he moved forward, followed by the rest, among whom I found +myself hurried along, no one any longer paying me the slightest respect, +or attention. + +“To the citadel,” said one. + +“To the citadel,” cried another. + +“Come, Hoogendorp, lead the way,” cried several together; and so they +pushed me to the front, and, notwithstanding all I said, that I did not +know the citadel, from the Dome Church, they would listen to nothing, +but only called the louder, “Step out, old ‘_Grande culotte_,’” and +hurried me down the street, at the pace of a boar-hunt. + +“Lead on,” cried one. “To the front,” said another. “Step out,” roared +three or four together; and I found myself at the head of the +procession, without the power to explain or confess my ignorance. + +“As sure as my name is Peter van Hoogendorp, I’ll give you all a devil’s +dance,” said I to myself; and with that, I grasped my staff, and set out +as fast as I was able. Down, one narrow street we went, and up, another; +sometimes we got into a _cul de sac_, where there was no exit, and had +to turn back again; another time, we would ascend a huge flight of +steps, and come plump into a tanner’s yard, or a place where they were +curing fish, and so, we blundered on, till there wasn’t a blind alley, +nor crooked lane, of Antwerp, that we didn’t wade through, and I was +becoming foot-sore, and tired myself, with the exertion. + +All this time the Emperor--for it was Napoleon--took no note of where we +were going; he was too busy conversing with old General de Ritter, to +mind anything else. At last, after traversing a long narrow street, we +came down upon an arm of the Scheldt, and so overcome was I then, that I +resolved I would go no further without a smoke, and I sat myself down on +a butter firkin, and took out my pipe, and proceeded to strike a light +with my flint. A titter of laughter from the officers now attracted the +Emperor’s attention, and he stopped short, and stared at me as if I had +been some wonderful beast. + +“What is this?” said he. “Why don’t you move forward?” + +“It ‘s impossible,” replied I, “I never walked so far, since I was +born.” + +“Where is the citadel?” cried he in a passion. + +“In the devil’s keeping,” said I, “or we should have seen it long ago.” + +“That must be it yonder,” said an aide-de-camp, pointing to a green, +grassy eminence, at the other side of the Scheldt. + +The Emperor took the telescope from his hand, and looked through it +steadily for a couple of minutes. + +“Yes,” said he, “that’s it: but why have we come all this round, the +road lay yonder.” + +“Ja!” said I, “so it did.” + +“_Ventre bleu!_” roared he, while he stamped his foot upon the ground, +“_ce gaillard se moque de nous_.” + +“Ja!” said I again, without well knowing why. + +“The citadel is there! It is yonder!” cried he, pointing with his +finger. + +“Ja!” said I once more. + +“_En avant!_ then,” shouted he, as he motioned me to descend the flight +of steps which led down to the Scheldt; “if this be the road you take, +_par Saint Denis _! you shall go first.” + +Now the frost, as I have said, had only set in a few days before, and +the ice on the Scheldt would scarcely have borne the weight of a +drummer-boy; so I remonstrated at once, at first in Dutch, and then in +French, as well as I was able, but nobody would mind me. I then +endeavoured’ to show the danger his Majesty himself would incur; but +they only laughed at this, and cried-- + +“_En avant, en avant toujours_,” and before I had time for another word, +there was a corporal’s guard behind me, with fixed bayonets; the word +“march” was given, and out I stepped. + +I tried to say a prayer, but I could think of nothing but curses upon +the fiends, whose shouts of laughter behind put all my piety to flight. +When I came to the bottom step I turned round, and, putting my hand to +my sides, endeavoured by signs to move their pity; but they only +screamed the louder at this, and at a signal from an officer, a fellow +touched me with a bayonet. + +“That was an awful moment,” said old Hoogendorp, stopping short in his +narrative, and seizing the can, which for half an hour he had not +tasted. “I think I see the river before me still, with its flakes of +ice, some thick and some thin, riding on each other; some whirling along +in the rapid current of the stream; some lying like islands where the +water was sluggish. I turned round, and I clenched my fist, and I shook +it in the Emperor’s face, and I swore by the bones of the Stadtholder, +that if I had but one grasp of his hand, I’d not perform that dance +without a partner. Here I stood,” quoth he, “and the Scheldt might be, +as it were, there. I lifted my foot thus, and came down upon a large +piece of floating ice, which, the moment I touched it, slipped away, and +shot out into the stream.” + + +At this moment Mynheer, who had been dramatizing this portion of his +adventure, came down upon the waxed floor, with a plump, that shook the +pagoda to its centre, while I, who had during the narrative been working +double tides at the schiedam, was so interested at the catastrophe, that +I thought he was really in the Scheldt, in the situation he was +describing. The instincts of humanity were, I am proud to say, stronger +in me than those of reason. I kicked off my shoes, threw away my coat, +and plunged boldly after him. I remember well, catching him by the +throat, and I remember too, feeling, what a dreadful thing was the grip +of a drowning man; for both his hands were on my neck, and he squeezed +me fearfully. Of what happened after, the waiters, or the Humane Society +may know something: I only can tell, that I kept my bed, for four days, +and when I next descended to the _table d’hôte_, I saw a large patch of +black sticking-plaster across the bridge of old Hoogendorp’s nose--and I +never was a guest in “Lust und Rust” afterwards. + +The loud clanking of the _table d’hôte_ bell aroused me, as I lay +dreaming of Frank Holbein and the yellow doublet. I dressed hastily and +descended to the _saal_; everything was exactly as I left it ten years +before; even to the cherry-wood pipe-stick that projected from Mynheer’s +breeches-pocket, nothing was changed. The clatter of post-horses, and +the heavy rattle of wheels drew me to the window, in time to see the +Alderman’s carriage with four posters, roll past; a kiss of the hand was +thrown me from the rumble. It was the “Honourable Jack” himself, who +somehow, had won their favour, and was already installed, their +travelling companion. + +“It is odd enough,” thought I, as I arranged my napkin across my knee, +“what success lies in a well-curled whisker--particularly if the wearer +be a fool.” + + + +CHAPTER IV. MEMS. AND MORALIZINGS. + +He who expects to find these “Loiterings” of mine of any service as a +“Guide Book” to the Continent, or a “Voyager’s Manual,” will be sorely +disappointed; as well might he endeavour to devise a suit of clothes +from the patches of cloth scattered about a tailor’s shop, there might +be, indeed, wherewithal to repair an old garment, or make a pen-wiper, +but no more. + +My fragments, too, of every shape and colour--sometimes showy and +flaunting, sometimes a piece of hodden-grey or linsey-wolsey--are all I +have to present to my friends; whatever they be in shade or texture, +whether fine or homespun, rich in Tyrian dye, or stained with russet +brown, I can only say for them, they are all my own--I have never +“cabbaged from any man’s cloth.” And now to abjure decimals, and talk +like a unit of humanity: if you would know the exact distance between +any two towns abroad--the best mode of reaching your destination--the +most comfortable hotel to stop at, when you have got there--who built +the cathedral--who painted the altar-piece--who demolished the town in +the year fifteen hundred and--fiddlestick--then take into your +confidence the immortal John Murray, he can tell you all these, and much +more; how many kreutzers make a groschen, how many groschen make a +gulden, reconciling you to all the difficulties of travel by historic +associations, memoirs of people who lived before the flood, and learned +dissertations on the etymology of the name of the town, which all your +ingenuity can’t teach you how to pronounce. + +Well, it’s a fine thing, to be sure, when your carriage breaks down in a +_chaussée_, with holes large enough to bury a dog--it’s a great +satisfaction to know, that some ten thousand years previous, this place, +that seems for all the world like a mountain torrent, was a Roman way. +If the inn you sleep in, be infested with every annoyance to which inns +are liable--all that long catalogue of evils, from boors to bugs--never +mind, there’s sure to be some delightful story of a bloody murder +connected with its annals, which will amply repay you for all your +suffering. + +And now, in sober seriousness, what literary fame equals John Murray’s? +What portmanteau, with two shirts and a night-cap, hasn’t got one “Hand- +book?” What Englishman issues forth at morn, without one beneath his +arm? How naturally, does he compare the voluble statement of his _valet- +de-place_, with the testimony of the book. Does he not carry it with him +to church, where, if the sermon be slow, he can read a description of +the building? Is it not his guide at _table-d’hôte_, teaching him, when +to eat, and where to abstain? Does he look upon a building, a statue, a +picture, an old cabinet, or a manuscript, with whose eyes does he see +it? With John Murray’s to be sure! Let John tell him, this town is +famous for its mushrooms, why he’ll eat them, till he becomes half a +fungus himself; let him hear that it is celebrated for its lace +manufactory, or its iron work--its painting on glass, or its wigs; +straightway he buys up all he can find, only to discover, on reaching +home, that a London shopkeeper can undersell him in the same articles, +by about fifty per cent. + +In all this, however, John Murray is not to blame; on the contrary, it +only shows his headlong popularity, and the implicit trust, with which +is received, every statement he makes. I cannot conceive anything more +frightful than the sudden appearance of a work which should contradict +everything in the “Hand-book,” and convince English people that John +Murray was wrong. National bankruptcy, a defeat at sea, the loss of the +colonies, might all be borne up against; but if we awoke one morning to +hear that the “Continent” was no longer the Continent we have been +accustomed to believe it, what a terrific shock it would prove. Like the +worthy alderman of London, who, hearing that Robinson Crusoe was only a +fiction, confessed he had lost one of the greatest pleasures of his +existence; so, should we discover that we have been robbed of an +innocent and delightful illusion, for which no reality of cheating +waiters and cursing Frenchmen, would ever repay us. + +Of the implicit faith with which John and his “Manual” are received, I +remember well, witnessing a pleasant instance a few years back on the +Rhine. + +On the deck of the steamer, amid that strange commingled mass of +Cockneys and Dutchmen, Flemish boors, German barons, bankers and +blacklegs, money-changers, cheese-mongers, quacks, and consuls, sat an +elderly couple, who, as far apart from the rest of the company as +circumstances would admit, were industriously occupied in comparing the +Continent with the “Hand-book,” or, in other words, were endeavouring to +see, if nature had dared to dissent from the true type, they held in +their hands. + +“‘Andernach, formerly. Andemachium,’” read the old lady aloud. “Do you +see it, my dear?” + +“Yes,” said the old gentleman, jumping up on the bench, and adjusting +his pocket telescope--“yes,” said he, “go on. I have it.” + +“‘Andernach,’” resumed she, “‘is an ancient Roman town, and has twelve +towers----’” + +“How many did you say?” + +“Twelve, my dear--” + +“Wait a bit, wait a bit,” said the old gentleman; while, with +outstretched finger, he began to count them, one, two, three, four, and +so on till he reached eleven, when he came to a dead stop, and then +dropping his voice to a tone of tremulous anxiety, he whispered, +“There’s one a-missing.” + +“You don’t say so!” said the lady, “dearee me, try it again.” + +The old gentleman shook his head, frowned ominously, and recommenced the +score. + +“You missed the little one near the lime-kiln,” interrupted the lady. + +“No!” said he abruptly, “that’s six, there’s seven--eight--nine--ten-- +eleven--and see, not another.” + +Upon this, the old lady mounted beside him, and the enumeration began in +duet fashion, but try it how they would, let them take them up hill, or +down hill, along the Rhine first, or commence inland, it was no use, +they could not make the dozen of them. + +“It is shameful!” said the gentleman. + +“Very disgraceful, indeed!” echoed the lady, as she closed the book, and +crossed her hands before her; while her partner’s indignation took a +warmer turn, and he paced the deck in a state of violent agitation. + +It was clear that no idea of questioning John Murray’s accuracy had ever +crossed their minds. Far from it--the “Handbook” had told them honestly +what they were to have at Ander-nach--“twelve towers built by the +Romans,” was part of the bill of fare; and some rascally Duke of Hesse +something, had evidently absconded with a stray castle; they were +cheated, “bamboozled, and bit,” inveigled out of their mother-country +under false pretences, and they “wouldn’t stand it for no one,” and so +they went about complaining to every passenger, and endeavouring, with +all their eloquence, to make a national thing of it, and, determined to +represent the case to the minister, the moment they reached Frankfort. +And now, as the _a propos_ reminds me, what a devil of a life an English +minister has, in any part of the Continent, frequented by his +countrymen. + +Let John Bull, from his ignorance of the country, or its language, +involve himself in a scrape with the authorities--let him lose his +passport or his purse--let him forget his penknife or his portmanteau; +straightway he repairs to the ambassador, who, in his eyes, is a cross +between Lord Aberdeen and a Bow-street officer. The minister’s functions +are indeed multifarious--now, investigating the advantages of an +international treaty; now, detecting the whereabouts of a missing cotton +umbrella; now, assigning the limits of a territory; now, giving +instructions on the ceremony of presentation to court; now, estimating +the fiscal relations of the navigation of a river; now, appraising the +price of the bridge of a waiter’s nose; as these pleasant and harmless +pursuits, so popular in London, of breaking lamps, wrenching off +knockers, and thrashing the police, when practised abroad, require +explanation at the hands of the minister, who hesitates not to account +for them as national predilections, like the taste for strong ale and +underdone beef. + +He is a proud man, indeed, who puts his foot upon the Continent with +that Aladdin’s lamp--a letter to the ambassador. The credit of his +banker is, in his eyes, very inferior to that all-powerful document, +which opens to his excited imagination the salons of royalty, the dinner +table of the embassy, a private box at the opera, and the attentions of +the whole fashionable world; and he revels in the expectation of +crosses, cordons, stars, and decorations--private interviews with +royalty, ministerial audiences, and all the thousand and one flatteries, +which are heaped upon the highest of the land. If he is single, he +doesn’t know but he may marry a princess; if he be married, he may have +a daughter for some German archduke, with three hussars for an army, and +three acres of barren mountain for a territory--whose subjects are not +so numerous as the hairs of his moustache, but whose quarterings go back +to Noah; and an ark on a “field azure” figures in his escutcheon. Well, +well! of all the expectations of mankind these are about the vainest. +These foreign-office documents are but Bellerophon letters,--born to +betray. Let not their possession dissuade you from making a weekly score +with your hotel-keeper, under the pleasant delusion that you are to dine +out, four days, out of the seven. Alas and alack! the ambassador doesn’t +keep open-house for his rapparee countrymen: his hôtel is no shelter for +females, destitute of any correct idea as to where they are going, and +why; and however strange it may seem, he actually seems to think his +dwelling as much his own, as though it stood in Belgrave-square, or +Piccadilly. + +Now, John Bull has no notion of this--he pays for these people--they +figure in the budget, and for a good round sum, too--and what do they do +for it? John knows little of the daily work of diplomacy. A treaty, a +tariff, a question of war, he can understand; but the red-tapery of +office, he can make nothing of. Court gossip, royal marriages--how his +Majesty smiled at the French envoy, and only grinned at the Austrian +_chargé d’affaires_--how the queen spoke three minutes to the Danish +minister’s wife, and only said “_Bon jour, madame_,” to the +Neapolitan’s--how plum-pudding figured at the royal table, thus showing +that English policy was in the ascendant;---all these signs of the +times, are a Chaldee MS. to him. But that the ambassador should invite +him and Mrs. Simpkins, and the three Misses and Master Gregory Simpkins, +to take a bit of dinner in the family-way--should bully the landlord at +the “Aigle,” and make a hard bargain with the “Lohn-Kutcher” for him at +the “Sechwan”--should take care that he saw the sights, and wasn’t more +laughed at than was absolutely necessary;--all that, is comprehensible, +and John expects it, as naturally as though it was set forth in his +passport, and sworn to by the foreign secretary, before he left London. + +Of all the strange anomalies of English character, I don’t know one so +thoroughly inexplicable as the mystery by which so really independent a +fellow as John Bull ought to be--and as he, in nineteen cases out of +twenty, is, should be a tuft hunter. The man who would scorn any +pecuniary obligation, who would travel a hundred miles back, on his +journey, to acquit a forgotten debt--who has not a thought that is not +high-souled, lofty, and honourable, will stoop to any thing, to be where +he has no pretension to be--to figure in a society, where he is any +thing but at his ease--unnoticed, save by ridicule. Any one who has much +experience of the Continent, must have been struck by this. There is no +trouble too great, no expense too lavish, no intrigue too difficult, to +obtain an invitation to court, or an embassy _soirée_. + +These embassy _soirées_, too, are good things in their way--a kind of +terrestrial _inferno_, where all ranks and conditions of men enter-- +stately Prussians, wily Frenchmen, roguish-looking Austrians, stupid +Danes, haughty English, swarthy, mean-looking Spaniards, and here and +there some “eternal swaggerer” from the States, with his hair “_en +Kentuck_,” and “a very pretty considerable damned loud smell” of tobacco +about him. Then there are the “_grandes dames_,” glittering in diamonds, +and sitting in divan, and the ministers’ ladies of every gradation, from +plenipos’ wives to _chargé d’àfaires_, with their _cordons_ of whiskered +_attachés_ about them--maids of honour, _aides-de-camp du roi_, Poles, +_savans_, newspaper editors, and a Turk. Every rank has its place in the +attention of the host: and he poises his civilities, as though a ray the +more, one shade the less, would upset the balance of nations, and +compromise the peace of Europe. In that respect, nothing ever surpassed +the old Dutch embassy, at Dresden, where the _maître d’hôtel_ had strict +orders to serve coffee, to the ministers, _eau sucrée_, to the +secretaries, and, nothing, to the _attachés_. No plea of heat, fatigue, +or exhaustion, was ever suffered to infringe a rule, founded on the +broadest views of diplomatic rank. A cup of coffee thus became, like a +cordon or a star, an honourable and a proud distinction; and the +enviable possessor sipped his Mocha, and coquetted with the spoon, with +a sense of dignity, ordinary men know nothing of in such circumstances; +while the secretary’s _eau sucrée_ became a goal to the young aspirant +in the career; which must have stirred his early ambition, and +stimulated his ardour for success. + +If, as some folk say, human intellect is never more conspicuous, than +where a high order of mind can descend to some paltry, insignificant +circumstance, and bring to its consideration all the force it possesses; +certes diplomatic people must be of a no mean order of capacity. + +From the question of a disputed frontier, to that of a place at dinner, +there is but one spring from the course of a river towards the sea, and +a procession to table, the practised mind bounds as naturally, as though +it were a hop, and a step. A case in point occurred some short time +since at Frankfort. + +The etiquette in this city gives the president of the diet precedence of +the different members of the _corps diplomatique_, who, however, all +take rank before the rest of the diet. + +The Austrian minister, who occupied the post of president, being absent, +the Prussian envoy held the office _ad interim_, and believed that, with +the duties, its privileges became his. + +M. Anstett, the Russian envoy, having invited his colleagues to dinner, +the grave question arose who was to go first? On one hand the dowager, +was the Minister of France, who always preceded the others; on the other +was the Prussian, a _pro tempore_ president, and who showed no +disposition to concede his pretensions. + +The important moment arrived--the door was flung wide; and an imposing +voice proclaimed--“_Madame la Baronne est servie_.” Scarce were the +words spoken, when the Prussian sprang forward, and, offering his arm +gallantly to Madame d’Anstett, led the way, before the Frenchman had +time to look around him. + +When the party were seated at table, M. d’Anstett looked about him in a +state of embarrassment and uneasiness: then, suddenly rallying, he +called out in a voice audible throughout the whole room--“Serve the soup +to the Minister of France first!” The order was obeyed, and the French +minister had lifted his third spoonful to his lips before the humbled +Prussian had tasted his. + +The next day saw couriers flying, extra post through all Europe, +conveying the important intelligence; that when all other precedence +failed, soup, might be resorted to, to test rank and supremacy. + +And now enough for the present of ministers ordinary and extraordinary, +envoys and plenipos; though I intend to come back to them at another +opportunity. + + + +CHAPTER V. ANTWERP--“THE FISCHER’S HAUS.” + +It was through no veneration for the memory of Van Hoogen-dorp’s +adventure, that I found myself one morning at Antwerp. I like the old +town: I like its quaint, irregular streets, its glorious cathedral, the +old “Place,” with its alleys of trees; I like the Flemish women, and +their long-eared caps; and I like the _table d’hôte_ at the “St. +Antoine”--among other reasons, because, being at one o’clock, it affords +a capital argument for a hot supper, at nine. + +I do not know how other people may feel, but to me, I must confess, much +of the pleasure the Continent affords me, is destroyed by the jargon of +the “_Commissionnaires_,” and the cant of guidebooks. Why is not a man +permitted to sit down before that great picture, “The Descent from the +Cross,” and “gaze his fill” on it? Why may he not look till the whole +scene becomes, as it were, acting before him, and all those faces of +grief, of care, of horror, and despair, are graven in his memory, never +to be erased again? Why, I say, may he not study this in tranquillity +and peace, without some coarse, tobacco-reeking fellow, at his elbow, in +a dirty blouse and wooden shoes, explaining, in _patois_ French, the +merits of a work, which he is as well fitted to paint, as to appreciate. + +But I must not myself commit the very error I am reprobating. I will not +attempt any description of a picture, which, to those who have seen it, +could realize not one of the impressions the work itself afforded, and +to those who have not, would convey nothing at all. I will not bore my +reader with the tiresome cant of “effect.” “expression,” “force,” + “depth,” and “relief,” but, instead of all this, will tell him a short +story about the painting, which, if it has no other merit, has at least +that of authenticity. + +Rubens--who, among his other tastes, was a great florist--was very +desirous to enlarge his garden, by adding to it a patch of ground +adjoining. It chanced unfortunately, that this piece of land did not +belong to an individual who could be tempted by a large price, but to a +society or club called the “Arquebussiers,” one of those old Flemish +guilds, which date their origin several centuries back. Insensible to +every temptation of money, they resisted all the painter’s offers, and +at length only consented to relinquish the land on condition that he +would paint a picture for them, representing their patron saint, St. +Christopher. To this, Rubens readily acceded, his only difficulty being +to find out some incident in the good saint’s life, which might serve as +a subject. What St. Christopher had to do with cross-bows or sharp- +shooters, no one could tell him; and for many a long day he puzzled his +mind, without ever being able to hit upon a solution of the difficulty. +At last, in despair, the etymology of the word suggested a plan; and +“christopheros,” or cross-bearer, afforded the hint on which he began +his great picture of “The Descent.” For months long, he worked +industriously at the painting, taking an interest in its details, such +as he confesses never to have felt in any of his previous works. He knew +it to be his _chef-d’oeuvre_, and looked forward, with a natural +eagerness, to the moment when he should display it before its future +possessors, and receive their congratulations on his success. + +The day came; the “Arquebuss” men assembled, and repaired in a body to +Rubens’ house; the large folding shutters which concealed the painting +were opened, and the triumph of the painter’s genius was displayed +before them: but not a word was spoken; no exclamation of admiration, or +wonder, broke from the assembled throng; not a murmur of pleasure, or +even surprise was there: on the contrary, the artist beheld nothing but +faces expressive of disappointment, and dissatisfaction; and at length, +after a considerable-pause, one question burst from every lip--“Where is +St. Christopher?” + +It was to no purpose he explained the object of his work: in vain he +assured them, that the picture was the greatest he had ever painted, and +far superior to what he had contracted to give them. They stood +obdurate, and motionless: it was St. Christopher they wished for; it was +for him they bargained, and him, they would have. + +The altercation continued long, and earnest. Some of them, more +moderate, hoping to conciliate both parties, suggested that, as there +was a small space unemployed in the left of the painting, St. +Christopher could be introduced, there, by making him somewhat +diminutive. Rubens rejected the proposal with disgust: his great work +was not to be destroyed by such an anomaly as this: and so, breaking off +the negotiation at once, he dismissed the “Arquebuss” men, and +relinquished all pretension to the “promised land.” + +Matters remained for some months thus, when the burgomaster, who was an +ardent admirer of Rubens’ genius, came to hear the entire transaction; +and, waiting on the painter, suggested an expedient by which every +difficulty might be avoided, and both parties rest content. “Why not,” + said he, “make a St. Christopher on the outside of the shutter? You have +surely space enough there, and can make him of any size you like.” The +artist caught at the proposal, seized his chalk, and in a few minutes +sketched out, a gigantic saint, which the burgomaster at once pronounced +suited to the occasion. + +The “Arquebuss” men were again introduced; and, immediately on beholding +their patron, professed themselves perfectly satisfied. The bargain was +concluded, the land ceded, and the picture hung up in the great +cathedral of Antwerp, where, with the exception of the short period that +French spoliation carried it to the Louvre, it has remained ever since, +a monument of the artist’s genius, the greatest and most finished of all +his works. And now that I have done my story, I’ll try and find out that +little quaint hotel they call the “Fischer’s Haus.” + +Fifteen years ago, I remember losing my way one night in the streets of +Antwerp. I couldn’t speak a word of Flemish: the few people I met +couldn’t understand a word of French. I wandered about, for full two +hours, and heard the old cathedral clock play a psalm tune, and the St. +Joseph tried its hand on another. A watchman cried the hour through a +cow’s horn, and set all the dogs a-barking; and then all was still +again, and I plodded along, without the faintest idea of the points of +the compass. + +In this moody frame of mind I was, when the heavy clank of a pair of +sabots, behind, apprised me that some one was following. I turned +sharply about, and accosted him in French. + +“English?” said he, in a thick, guttural tone. + +“Yes, thank heaven” said I, “do you speak English?” + +“Ja, Mynheer,” answered he. Though this reply didn’t promise very +favourably, I immediately asked him to guide me to my hotel, upon which +he shook his head gravely, and said nothing. + +“Don’t you speak English?” said I. + +“Ja!” said he once more. + +“I’ve lost my way,” cried I; “I am a stranger.” + +He looked at me doggedly for a minute or two, and then, with a stern +gravity of manner, and a phlegm, I cannot attempt to convey, he said-- + +“D----n _my_ eyes!” + +“What!” said I, “do you mean?” + +“Ja!” was the only reply. + +“If you know English, why won’t you speak it?” + +“D----n _his_ eyes!” said he with a deep solemn tone. + +“Is that all you know of the language?” cried I, stamping with +impatience. “Can you say no more than that?” + +“D----n _your_ eyes!” ejaculated he, with as much composure, as though +he were maintaining an earnest conversation. + +When I had sufficiently recovered from the hearty fit of laughter this +colloquy occasioned me, I began by signs, such as melodramatic people +make to express sleep, placing my head in the hollow of my hand, snoring +and yawning, to represent, that I stood in need of a bed. + +“Ja!” cried my companion with more energy than before, and led the way +down one narrow street and up another, traversing lanes, where two men +could scarcely go abreast, until at length we reached a branch of the +Scheldt, along which, we continued for above twenty minutes. Suddenly +the sound of voices shouting a species of Dutch tune---for so its +unspeakable words, and wooden turns, bespoke it--apprised me, that we +were near a house where the people were yet astir. + +“Ha!” said I, “this a hotel then.” + +Another “Ja!” + +“What do they call it?” + +A shake of the head. + +“That will do, good night,” said I, as I saw the bright lights gleaming +from the small diamond panes of an old Flemish window; “I am much +obliged to you.” + +“D----n _your_ eyes!” said my friend, taking off his hat politely, and +making me a low bow, while he added something in Flemish, which I +sincerely trust was of a more polite and complimentary import, than his +parting benediction in English. + +As I turned from the Fleming, I entered a narrow hall, which led by a +low-arched door into a large room, along which, a number of tables were +placed, each, crowded by its own party who clinked their cans and +vociferated a chorus, which, from constant repetition, rings still in my +memory-- + + +“Wenn die wein ist in die maun, Der weisdheid den iut in die kan.” + +or in the vernacular-- + + +“When the wine is in the man, Then is the wisdom in the can.” + +A sentiment, which a very brief observation of their faces, induced me +perfectly to concur in. Over the chimney-piece, an inscription was +painted in letters of about a foot long, “Hier verkoopt man Bier,” + implying, what a very cursory observation might have conveyed to any +one, even on the evidence of his nose,--that beer was a very attainable +fluid in the establishment. The floor was sanded, and the walls white- +washed, save where some pictorial illustrations of Flemish habits were +displayed in black chalk, or the smoke of a candle. + +As I stood, uncertain whether to advance or retreat, a large portly +Fleming, with a great waistcoat, made of the skin of some beast, eyed me +steadfastly from head to foot, and then, as if divining my +embarrassment, beckoned me to approach, and pointed to a seat on the +bench beside him. I was not long in availing myself of his politeness, +and before a half an hour elapsed, found myself with a brass can of +beer, about eighteen inches in height, before me; while I was smoking +away as though I had been born within the “dykes,” and never knew the +luxury of dry land. + +Around the table sat some seven or eight others, whose phlegmatic look +and sententious aspect, convinced me, they were Flemings. At the far +end, however, was one, whose dark eyes, flashing beneath heavy shaggy +eyebrows, huge whiskers, and bronzed complexion, distinguished him +sufficiently from the rest. He appeared, too, to have something of +respect paid him, inasmuch as the others invariably nodded to him, +whenever they lifted their cans to their mouths. He wore a low fur cap +on his head, and his dark blue frock was trimmed also with fur, and +slashed with a species of braiding, like an undress uniform. + +Unlike the rest, he spoke a great deal, not only to his own party, but +maintaining a conversation with various others through the room-- +sometimes speaking French, then Dutch, and occasionally changing to +German, or Italian, with all which tongues he appeared so familiar, that +I was fairly puzzled to what country to attribute him. + +I could mark at times that he stole a sly glance over, towards where I +was sitting, and, more than once, I thought I observed him watching what +effect his voluble powers as a linguist, was producing upon me. At last +our eyes met, he smiled politely, and taking up the can before him, he +bowed, saying, “A votre santé, monsieur.” + +I acknowledged the compliment at once, and seizing the opportunity, +begged to know, of what land so accomplished a linguist was a native. +His face brightened up at once, a certain smile of self-satisfied +triumph passed over his features, he smacked his lips, and then poured +out a torrent of strange sounds, which, from their accent, I guessed to +be Russian. + +“Do you speak Sclavonic?” said he in French; and as I nodded a negative, +he added--“Spanish,--Portuguese?” + +“Neither,” said I. + +“Where do you come from then?” asked he, retorting my question. + +“Ireland, if you may have heard of such a place.” + +“Hurroo!” cried he, with a yell that made the room start with amazement. +“By the powers! I thought so; come up my hearty, and give me a shake of +your hand.” + +If I were astonished before, need I say how I felt now. + +“And are you really a countryman of mine?” said I, as I took my seat +beside him. + +“Faith, I believe so. Con O’Kelly, does not sound very like Italian, and +that’s my name, any how; but wait a bit, they’re calling on me for a +Dutch song, and when I’ve done, we’ll have a chat together.” + +A very uproarious clattering of brass and pewter cans on the tables, +announced that the company was becoming impatient for Mynheer O’Kelly’s +performance, which he immediately began; but of either the words or air, +I can render no possible account, I only know, there was a kind of +_refrain_ or chorus, in which, all, round each table, took hands, and +danced a “grand round,” making the most diabolical clatter with wooden +shoes, I ever listened to. + +After which, the song seemed to subside into a low droning sound, +implying sleep. The singer nodded his head, the company followed the +example, and a long heavy note, like snoring, was heard through the +room, when suddenly, with a hiccup, he awoke, the others also, and then +the song broke out once more, in all its vigour, to end as before, in +another dance, an exercise in which I certainly fared worse than my +neighbours, who tramped on my corns without mercy, leaving it a very +questionable fact how far his “pious, glorious, and immortal memory” was +to be respected, who had despoiled my country of “wooden shoes” when +walking off with its brass money. + +The melody over, Mr. O’Kelly proceeded to question me somewhat minutely, +as to how I had chanced upon this house, which was not known to many, +even of the residents of Antwerp. + +I briefly explained to him the circumstances which led me to my present +asylum, at which he laughed heartily. + +“You don’t know, then, where you are?” said he, looking at me, with a +droll half-suspicious smile. + +“No; it’s a Schenk Haus, I suppose,” replied I. + +“Yes, to be sure, it is a Schenk Haus, but it’s the resort only of +smugglers, and those connected with their traffic. Every man about you, +and there are, as you see, some seventy or eighty, are all, either sea- +faring folks, or landsmen associated with them, in contraband trade.” + +“But how is this done so openly? the house is surely known to the +police.” + +“Of course, and they are well paid for taking no notice of it.” + +“And you?” + +“Me! Well, _I_ do a little that way too, though it’s only a branch of my +business. I’m only Dirk Hatteraik, when I come down to the coast: then +you know a man doesn’t like to be idle; so that when I’m here, or on the +Bretagny shore, I generally mount the red cap, and buckle on the +cutlass, just to keep moving; as when I go inland, I take an occasional +turn with the gypsy folk in Bohemia, or their brethren, in the Basque +provinces. There’s nothing like being up to every thing--that’s _my_ +way.” + +I confess I was a good deal surprised at my companion’s account of +himself, and not over impressed with the rigour of his principles; but +my curiosity to know more of him, became so much the stronger. + +“Well,” said I, “you seem to have a jolly life of it; and, certainly a +healthful one.” + +“Aye, that it is,” replied he quickly. “I’ve more than once thought of +going back to Kerry, and living quietly for the rest of my days, for I +could afford it well enough; but, somehow, the thought of staying in one +place, talking always to the same set of people, seeing every day the +same sights, and hearing the same eternal little gossip about little +things, and little folk, was too much for me, and so I stuck to the old +trade, which I suppose I’ll not give up now as long as I live.” + +“And what may that be?” asked I, curious to know how he filled up +moments snatched from the agreeable pursuits he had already mentioned. + +He eyed me with a shrewd, suspicious look, for above a minute, and then, +laying his hand on my arm, said-- + +“Where do you put up at, here in Antwerp?” + +“The St. Antoine.’” + +“Well, I’ll come over for you to-morrow evening about nine o’clock; +you’re not engaged, are you?” + +“No, I’ve no acquaintance here.” + +“At nine, then, be ready, and you’ll come and take a bit of supper with +me; and, in exchange for your news of the old country, I’ll tell you +something of my career.” + +I readily assented to a proposal which promised to make me better +acquainted with one evidently a character; and after half an hour’s +chatting, I arose. + +“You’re not going away, are you?” said he. “Well, I can’t leave this +yet; so I’ll just send a boy, to show you the way to the ‘St. Antoine.’” + +With that, he beckoned to a lad at one of the tables, and addressing a +few words in Flemish to him, he shook me warmly by the hand: the whole +room rose respectfully as I took my leave, and I could see, that “Mr. +O’Kelly’s friend,” stood in no small estimation with the company. + +The day was just breaking when I reached my hotel; but I knew I could +poach on the daylight for what the dark had robbed me; and, besides, my +new acquaintance promised to repay the loss of a night’s sleep, should +it even come to that. + +Punctual to his appointment, my newly-made friend knocked at my door +exactly as the cathedral was chiming for nine o’clock. + +His dress was considerably smarter than on the preceding evening, and +his whole air and bearing bespoke a degree of quiet decorum and reserve, +very different from his free-and-easy carriage in the “Fischer’s Haus.” + As I accompanied him through the _parte-cochère_, we passed the +landlord, who saluted us with much politeness, shaking my companion, by +the hand, like an old friend. + +“You are acquainted here, I see,” said I. + +“There are few landlords from Lubeck to Leghorn I don’t know by this +time,” was the reply, and he smiled as he spoke. + +A calèche with one horse, was waiting for us without, and into this we +stepped. The driver had got his directions, and plying his whip briskly, +we rattled over the paved streets, and passing through a considerable +part of the town, arrived at last at one of the gates. Slowly crossing +the draw-bridge at a walk, we set out again at a trot, and soon I could +perceive, through the half light, that we had traversed the suburbs, and +were entering the open country. + +“We’ve not far to go now,” said my companion, who seemed to suspect that +I was meditating over the length of the way; “where you see the lights +yonder--that’s our ground.” + +The noise of the wheels over the _pavé_ soon after ceased, and I found +we were passing across a grassy lawn in front of a large house, which, +even by the twilight, I could detect was built in the old Flemish taste. +A square tower flanked one extremity, and from the upper part of this, +the light gleamed, to which my companion pointed. + +We descended from the carriage, at the foot of a long terrace, which, +though dilapidated and neglected, bore still some token of its ancient +splendour. A stray statue here and there, remained, to mark its former +beauty, while, close by, the hissing splash of water told that a _jet +d’eau_ was playing away, unconscious that its river gods, dolphins, and +tritons, had long since departed. + +“A fine old place once,” said my new friend; “the old chateau of +Overghem--one of the richest seignories of Flanders in its day--sadly +changed now; but come, follow me.” + +So saying, he led the way into the hall, where detaching a rude lantern +that was hung against the wall, he ascended the broad oak stairs. + +I could trace, by the fitful gleam of the light, that the walls had been +painted in fresco, the architraves of the windows and doors being richly +carved, in all the grotesque extravagance of old Flemish art; a gallery, +which traversed the building, was hung with old pictures, apparently +family portraits, but they were all either destroyed by damp or rotting +with neglect; at the extremity of this, a narrow stair conducted us by a +winding ascent to the upper story of the tower, where, for the first +time, my companion had recourse to a key; with this, he opened a low, +pointed door, and ushered me into an apartment, at which, I could +scarcely help expressing my surprise, aloud, as I entered. + +The room was of small dimensions, but seemed actually, the boudoir of a +palace. Rich cabinets in buhl, graced the walls, brilliant in all the +splendid costliness of tortoise-shell and silver inlaying; bronzes of +the rarest kind; pictures; vases; curtains of gorgeous damask covered +the windows; and a chimney-piece of carved black oak, representing a +pilgrimage, presented a depth of perspective, and a beauty of design, +beyond any thing I had ever witnessed. The floor was covered with an old +tapestry of Ouden-arde, spread over a heavy Persian rug, into which the +feet sank at every step, while a silver lamp, of antique mould, threw a +soft, mellow light, around, revolving on an axis, whose machinery played +a slow but soothing melody, delightfully in harmony with all about. + +“You like this kind of thing,” said my companion, who watched, with +evident satisfaction, the astonishment and admiration, with which I +regarded every object around me. “That’s a pretty bit of carving there-- +that was done by Van Zoost, from a design of Schneider’s; see how the +lobsters are crawling over the tangled sea-weed there, and look how the +leaves seem to fall heavy and flaccid, as if wet with spray. This is +good, too; it was painted by Gherard Dow: it is a portrait of himself; +he is making a study of that little boy who stands there on the table; +see how he has disposed the light, so as to fall on the little fellow’s +side, tipping him from the yellow curls of his round bullet head, to the +angle of his white sabot. + +“Yes, you’re right, that is by Van Dyck; only a sketch to be sure, but +has all his manner. I like the Velasquez yonder better, but they both +possess the same excellence. _They_, could represent _birth_. Just see +that dark fellow there, he’s no beauty you’ll say, but regard him +closely, and tell me, if he’s one to take a liberty with; look at his +thin, clenched lip, and that long thin, pointed chin, with its straight +stiff beard--can there be a doubt he was a gentleman? Take care, gently, +your elbow grazed it. That, is a specimen of the old Japan china--a lost +art now, they cannot produce the blue colour, you see there, running +into green. See, the flowers are laid on after the cup is baked, and the +birds are a separate thing after all; but come, this is, perhaps, +tiresome work to you, follow me.” + +Notwithstanding my earnest entreaty to remain, he took me by the arm, +and opening a small door, covered by a mirror, led me into another room, +the walls and ceiling of which were in dark oak wainscot; a single +picture occupied the space above the chimney, to which, however, I gave +little attention, my eyes being fixed upon a most appetizing supper, +which figured on a small table in the middle of the room. Not even the +savoury odour of the good dishes, or my host’s entreaty to begin, could +turn me from the contemplation of the antique silver covers, carved in +the richest fashion. The handles of the knives were fashioned into +representations of saints and angels, and the costly ruby glasses, of +Venetian origin, were surrounded with cases of gold filagree, of the +most delicate and beautiful character. + +“We must be our own attendants,” said the host. “What have you there? +Here are some Ostende oysters, _en matelot;_ that is a small capon +_truffé_; and, here are some cutlets _aux points d’asperge_, But let us +begin, and explore as we proceed; a glass of Chablis, with your oysters; +what a pity these Burgundy wines are inaccessible to you in England! +Chablis, scarcely bears the sea, of half a dozen bottles, one, is +drinkable; the same of the red wines; and what is there so generous? not +that we are to despise our old friend, Champagne; and now that you’ve +helped yourself to _paté_, let’s us have a bumper. By-the-bye, have they +abandoned that absurd notion they used to have in England about +Champagne? when I was there, they never served it during the first +course. Now Champagne should come, immediately after your soup--your +glass of Sherry or Madeira, is a holocaust offered up to bad cookery; +for if the soup were safe, Chablis or Sauterne is your fluid. How is the +capon? good, I’m glad of it. These countries excel in their +_poulardes_.” + +In this fashion my companion ran on, accompanying each plate with some +commentary on its history, or concoction; a kind of dissertation, I must +confess, I have no manner of objection to, especially, when delivered by +a host who illustrates his theorem, not by “plates” but “dishes.” + +Supper over, we wheeled the table to the wall; and drawing forward +another, on which the wine and desert were already laid out, prepared to +pass a pleasant and happy evening, in all form. + +“Worse countries than Holland, Mr. O’Leary,” said my companion, as he +sipped his Burgundy, and looked with ecstasy at the rich colour of the +wine through the candle. + +“When seen thus,” said I, “I don’t know its equal.” + +“Why, perhaps this is rather a favourable specimen of a smuggler’s +cave,” replied he, laughing. “Better than old Dirk’s, eh? By-the-bye, do +you know, Scott?” + +“No; I am sorry to say that I am not acquainted with him.” + +“What the devil could have led him into such a blunder as to make +Hatteraik, a regular Dutchman, sing a German song? Why, ‘Ich Bin +liederlich’ is good Hoch-Deutsch, and Saxon to boot. A Hollander, might +just as well have chanted modern Greek, or Coptic. I’ll wager you that +Rubens there, over the chimney, against a crown-piece, you’ll not find a +Dutchman, from Dort to Nimegen, could repeat the lines, that he has made +a regular national song of; and again, in Quentin Durward, he has made +all the Liege folk speak German, That, was even, a worse mistake. Some +of them speak French; but the nation, the people, are Walloons, and have +as much idea of German as a Hottentot has, of the queen of hearts. Never +mind, he’s a glorious fellow for all that, and here’s his health. When +will Ireland have his equal, to chronicle her feats of field and flood, +and make her land as classic, as Scott has done his own!” + +While we rambled on, chatting of all that came uppermost, the wine +passed freely across the narrow table, and the evening wore on. My +curiosity to know more of one, who, on whatever he talked, seemed +thoroughly informed, grew gradually more and more; and at last I +ventured to remind him, that he had half promised me the previous +evening, to let me hear something of his own history. + +“No, no,” said he laughing; “story telling is poor work for the teller +and the listener too; and when a man’s tale has not even brought a moral +to himself, it’s scarcely likely, to be more generous towards his +neighbour.” + +“Of course,” said I, “I have no claim, as a stranger----” + +“Oh, as to that,” interrupted he, “somehow I feel as though we were +longer acquainted. I’ve seen much of the world, and know by this time +that some men begin to know each other from the starting post--others +never do, though they travel a life long together;--so that on that +score, no modesty. If you care for my story, fill your glass, and let’s +open another flask, and here it’s for you, though I warn you beforehand +the narrative is somewhat of the longest.” + + + +CHAPTER VI. MR. O’KELLY’S TALE + +“I can tell you but little about my family,” said my host, stretching +out his legs to the fire, and crossing his arms easily before him. “My +grandfather was in the Austrian service, and killed in some old battle +with the Turks. My father, Peter O’Kelly, was shot in a duel by an +attorney from Youghal. Something about nailing his ear to the pump, I’ve +heard tell was the cause of the row; for he came down to my father’s, +with a writ, or a process, or something of the kind. No matter--the +thief had pluck in him; and when Peter--my father that was--told him, +he’d make a gentleman of him, and fight him, if he’d give up the bill of +costs; why the temptation was too strong to resist; he pitched the +papers into the fire, went out the same morning, and faith he put in his +bullet, as fair, as if he was used to the performance. I was only a +child then, ten or eleven years old, and so I remember nothing of the +particulars; but I was packed off the next day to an old aunt’s, a +sister of my father’s, who resided in the town of Tralee. + +“Well, to be sure, it was a great change for me, young as I was, from +Castle O’Kelly to Aunt Judy’s. At home, there was a stable full of +horses, a big house, generally full of company, and the company as fall +of fun; we had a pack of harriers, went out twice or thrice a week, +plenty of snipe-shooting, and a beautiful race-course was made round the +lawn: and though I wasn’t quite of an age to join in these pleasures +myself, I had a lively taste for them all, and relished the free-and- +easy style of my father’s house, without any unhappy forebodings, that +the amusements there practised would end in leaving me a beggar. + +“Now, my Aunt Judy lived in what might be called, a state of painfully +elegant poverty. Her habitation was somewhat more capacious than a house +in a toy-shop; but then it had all the usual attributes of a house. +There was a hall-door, and two windows, and a chimney, and a brass +knocker, and, I believe, a scraper; and within, there were three little +rooms, about the dimensions of a mail-coach, each. I think I see the +little parlour before me, now this minute; there was a miniature of my +father in a red coat over the chimney, and two screens painted by my +aunt--landscapes, I am told, they were once; but time and damp had made +them look something like the moon seen through a bit of smoked glass; +and there were fire-irons as bright as day, for they never performed any +other duty than standing on guard beside the grate,--a kind of royal +beef-eaters, kept for show; and there was a little table covered with +shells and minerals, bits of coral, conchs, and cheap curiosities of +that nature, and over them, again, was a stuffed macaw. Oh, dear! I see +it all before me, and the little tea-service, that if the beverage had +been vitriol, a cup full couldn’t have harmed you. There were four +chairs;--human ingenuity couldn’t smuggle in a fifth. There was one for +Father Donnellan, another for Mrs. Brown, the post mistress, another for +the barrack-master, Captain Dwyer, the fourth for my aunt herself; but +then no more were wanted. Nothing but real gentility, the ‘ould Irish +blood,’ would be received by Miss Judy; and if the post-mistress wasn’t +fourteenth cousin to somebody, who was aunt to Phelim O’Brien, who was +hanged for some humane practice towards the English in former times, the +devil a cup of bohea she’d have tasted there! The priest was _ex +officio_, but Captain Dwyer was a gentleman, born and bred. His great- +grandfather had an estate; the last three generations had lived on the +very reputation of its once being in the family: ‘_they_ weren’t +upstarts, no, sorrow bit of it;’ when they had it they spent it,’ and so +on, were the current expressions concerning them. Faith I will say, that +in my time, in Ireland--I don’t know how it may be now--the aroma of a +good property stood to the descendants long after the substance had left +them; and if they only stuck fast to the place where the family had once +been great, it took at least a couple of generations before they need +think of looking out for a livelihood. + +“Aunt Judy’s revenue was something like eighty pounds a year; but in +Tralee she was not measured by the rule of the ‘income tax.’ ‘Wasn’t she +own sister to Peter O’Kelly of the Castle; didn’t Brien O’Kelly call at +the house when he was canvassing for the member, and leave his card;’ +and wasn’t the card displayed on the little mahogany table every +evening, and wiped and put by, every morning, for fifteen years; and +sure the O’Kellys had their own burial ground, the ‘O’Kelly’s pound,’ as +it was called, being a square spot inclosed within a wall and employed +for all ‘trespassers’ of the family, within death’s domain. Here was +gentility enough in all conscience, even had the reputation of her +evening parties not been the talk of the town. These were certainly +exclusive enough, and consisted as I have told you. + +“Aunt Judy loved her rubber, and so did her friends; and eight o’clock +every evening saw the little party assembled at a game of ‘longs,’ for +penny points. It was no small compliment to the eyesight of the players, +that they could distinguish the cards; for with long use they had become +dimmed and indistinct. The queens, had contracted a very tatterdemalion +look, and the knaves, had got a most vagabond expression for want of +their noses, not to speak of other difficulties in dealing, which +certainly required an expert hand, all the corners having long +disappeared, leaving the operation something like playing at quoits. + +“The discipline of such an establishment, I need scarcely say, was very +distasteful to me. I was seldom suffered to go beyond the door, more +rarely still, alone: my whole amusement consisted in hearing about the +ancient grandeur of the O’Kellys, and listening to a very prosy history, +of certain martyrs, not one of whom I didn’t envy in my heart; while in +the evening I slept beneath the whist-table, being too much afraid of +ghosts to venture up stairs to bed. + +“It was on one of those evenings, when the party were assembled as +usual; some freak of mine--I fear I was a rebellious subject--was being +discussed between the deals, it chanced that by some accident I was +awake, and heard the colloquy. + +“‘’Tis truth I’m telling you, ma’am,’ quoth my aunt, ‘you’d think he was +mild as milk, and there isn’t a name for the wickedness in him.’ + +“‘When I was in the Buffs there was a fellow of the name of Clancy----’ + +“‘Play a spade, captain,’ said the priest, who had no common horror of +the story, he had heard every evening for twenty years. + +“‘And did he really put the kitten into the oven?’ inquired Mrs. Brown. + +“‘Worse than that--he brought in Healy’s buck goat yesterday, and set +him opposite the looking-glass, and the beast, thinking he saw another, +opposite him, bolted straightforward, and, my dear, he stuck his horns +through the middle of it. There isn’t a piece as big as the ace of +diamonds.’” + +“‘When I was in the Buffs---- + +“‘’Tis at _say_ he ought to be--don’t you think so, captain?’ said the +priest----‘them’s trumps.’ + +“‘I beg your pardon, Father Donellan, let me look at the trick. Well I’m +sure I pity you, Miss O’Kelly.’ + +“‘And why wouldn’t you! his mother had a bad drop in her, ‘tis easy +seen. Sure Peter, that’s gone, rest his soul in peace, he never harmed +man nor beast; but that child there, has notions of wickedness, that +would surprise you. My elegant cornelian necklace he’s taken the stones +out of, till it nearly chokes me to put it on.’ + +“‘When I was in the Buffs, Miss O’Kelly, there was----’ + +“‘Pay fourpence,’ said the priest pettishly, and cut the cards. As I was +saying, I’d send him to say, and if the stories be thrue, I hear, he’s +not ill fitted for it; he does be the most of his time up there at the +caves of Ballybunnion, with the smugglers.’ + +“My aunt crimsoned a little at this, as I could see from my place on the +hearth rug: for it was only the day before, I had brought in a package +of green tea, obtained from the quarter alluded to. + +“‘I’d send him to Banagher to-morrow,’ said he, resolutely; ‘I’d send +him to school.’ + +“‘There was one Clancy, I was saying, a great devil he was--’ + +“‘And faix ould Martin will flog his tricks out of him, if birch will do +it,’ said the priest. + +“‘’Tis only a fortnight since he put hot cinders in the letterbox, and +burned half the Dublin bag,’ said Mrs. Brown. ‘The town will be well rid +of him.’ + +“This was exactly the notion I was coming to myself, though differing +widely as to the destination by which I was to manage my exchange out of +it. The kind wishes of the party towards me, too, had another effect--it +nerved me with a courage I never felt before--and when I took the first +opportunity of a squabble at the whist-table, to make my escape from the +room, I had so little fear of ghosts and goblins, that I opened the +street door, and, although the way led under the wall of the church- +yard, set out on my travels, in a direction which was to influence all +my after life. + +“I had not proceeded far, when I overtook some cars on their way to +Tarbert, on one of which I succeeded in obtaining a seat; and, by +daybreak, arrived at the Shannon, the object of my desires, and the goal +of all my wishes. + +“The worthy priest had not calumniated me, in saying, that my associates +were smugglers. Indeed, for weeks past, I never missed any opportunity +of my aunt leaving the house, without setting ont to meet a party who +frequented a small public-house, about three miles from Tralee, and with +whom I made more than one excursion to the caves of Ballybunnion. It was +owing to an accidental piece of information I afforded them--that the +revenue force was on their track--that I first learned to know these +fellows; and from that moment, I was a sworn friend of every man among +them. To be sure they were a motley crew. The craft belonged to +Flushing, and the skipper himself was a Fleming; the others were Kinsale +fishermen, Ostenders, men from the coast of Bretagny, a Norwegian pilot, +and a negro, who acted as cook. Their jovial style of life, the apparent +good humour and good fellowship that subsisted among them, a dash of +reckless devil-may-care spirit, resembling a school-boy’s love of fun-- +all captivated me; and when I found myself on board the ‘Dart,’ as she +lay at anchor under the shadow of the tall cliffs, and saw the crew +burnishing up pistols and cutlasses, and making ready for a cruise, I +had a proud heart when they told me, I might join, and be one among +them, I suppose every boy has something in his nature that inclines him +to adventure; it was strong enough in me, certainly. + +“The hardy, weather-beaten faces of my companions--their strong muscular +frames--their coarse uniform of striped Jersey wear, with black belts +crossing on the chest--all attracted my admiration: and from the red +bunting that floated at our gaff, to the brass swivels that peeped from +our bows, the whole craft delighted me. I was not long in acquiring the +rough habits and manners of my associates, and speedily became a +favourite with every one on board. All the eccentricities of my +venerable aunt, all the peculiarities of Father Donellan, were dished up +by me for their amusement, and they never got tired laughing at the +description of the whist-table. Besides, I was able to afford them much +valuable information about the neighbouring gentry, all of whom I knew, +either personally, or by name. I was at once, therefore, employed as a +kind of diplomatic envoy to ascertain if Mr. Blennerhassett wouldn’t +like a hogshead of brandy, or the Knight of Glynn a pipe of claret, in +addition to many minor embassies among the shebeen houses of the +country, concerning nigger-heads of tobacco, packages of tea, smuggled +lace, and silk handkerchiefs. + +“Thus was my education begun; and an apter scholar, in all the art and +mystery of smuggling, could scarcely have been found. I had a taste for +picking up languages; and, before my first cruise was over, had got a +very tolerable smattering of French, Dutch, and Norwegian, and some +intimacy with the fashionable dialect used on the banks of the Niger. +Other accomplishments followed these. I was a capital pistol-shot--no +bad hand with the small swords--could reef and steer, and had not my +equal on board in detecting a revenue officer, no matter how artfully +disguised. Such were my professional--my social qualifications far +exceeded these. I could play a little on the violin, and the guitar, and +was able to throw into rude verse any striking incident of our wild +career, and adapt an air to it, for the amusement of my companions. +These I usually noted down in a book, accompanying them with pen +illustrations and notes; and I assure you, however little literary +reputation this volume might have acquired, ‘O’Kelly’s Log,’ as it was +called, formed the great delight, of ‘Saturday night at sea.’ These +things were all too local and personal in their interest to amuse any +one who didn’t know the parties; but mayhap one day or other I’ll give +you a sight of the ‘log,’ and let you hear some of our songs. + +“I won’t stop to detail any of the adventures of my sea-faring life; +strange and wild enough they were in all conscience: one night, +staggering under close-reefed canvas beneath a lee-shore; another, +carousing with a jolly set in a ‘Schenk Hans’ at Rotterdam, or Ostende-- +now, hiding in the dark caves of Ballybunnion, while the craft stood out +to sea--now, disguised, taking a run up to Paris, and dining in the +‘Café de L’Empire,’ in all the voluptuous extravagance of the day. +Adventure fast succeeding on adventure, escape upon escape, had given my +life a character of wild excitement, which made me feel a single day’s +repose, a period of _ennui_ and monotony. + +“Smuggling, too, became only a part of my occupation. My knowledge of +French, and my power of disguising my appearance, enabled me to mix in +Parisian society, of a certain class, without any fear of detection. In +this way I obtained, from time to time, information of the greatest +consequence to our government; and once brought some documents from the +war department of Napoleon, which obtained for me the honour of an +interview with Mr. Pitt himself. This part of my career, however, would +take me too far away from my story, were I to detail any of the many +striking adventures which marked it; so I’ll pass on, at once, to one of +those eventful epochs of my life, two or three of which have changed, +for the time, the current of my destiny. + +“I was about eighteen: the war had just broke out with France, and the +assembled camp at Boulogne threatened the invasion of England. The +morning we left the French coast, the preparations for the embarkation +of the troops, were in great forwardness, and certain particulars had +reached us, which convinced me that Napoleon really intended an attempt, +which many were disposed to believe, was a mere menace. In fact, an +officer of the staff had given me such information as explained the mode +of the descent, and the entire plan of the expedition. Before I could +avail myself of this, however, we should land our cargo, an unusually +rich one, on the west coast of Ireland, for my companions knew nothing +all this time of the system of ‘spionage’ I had established, and little +suspected that one of their crew was in relation with the Prime Minister +of England. + +“I have said I was about eighteen. My wild life, if it had made me feel +older than my years, had given a hardihood and enterprise to my +character, which heightened for me the enjoyment of every bold +adventure, and made me feel a kind of ecstasy in every emergency, where +danger and difficulty were present. I longed to be the skipper of my own +craft, sweeping the seas at my own will; a bold buccaneer, caring less +for gain than glory, until my name should win for itself its own meed of +fame, and my feats be spoken of in awe and astonishment. + +“Van Brock, our captain, was a hardy Fleming, but all his energy of +character, all his daring, were directed to the one object--gain. For +this, there was nothing he wouldn’t attempt, nothing he wouldn’t risk. +Now, our present voyage was one in which he had embarked all his +capital; the outbreak of a war warned him that his trade must speedily +be abandoned--he could no longer hope to escape the cruisers of every +country, that already filled the channel. This one voyage, however, if +successful, would give him an ample competence for life, and he +determined to hazard everything upon it. + +“It was a dark and stormy night in November, when we made the first +light on the west coast of Ireland. Part of our cargo was destined for +Ballybunnion; the remainder, and most valuable portion, was to be landed +in the Bay of Galway. It blew a whole gale from the southward and +westward, and the sea ran mountains high, not the short jobble of a +land-locked channel, but the heavy roll of the great Atlantic,--dark and +frowning, swelling to an enormous height, and thundering away on the +iron-bound coast to leeward, with a crash, that made our hearts quiver. +The ‘Dart’ was a good sea-boat, but the waves swept her from stem to +stern, and though nothing but a close-reefed topsail was bent, we went +spinning through the water, at twelve knots. The hatchways were battened +down, and every preparation made for a rough night, for as the darkness +increased, so did the gale. + +“The smuggler’s fate is a dark and gloomy one. Let the breeze fall, let +the blue sky and fleecy clouds lie mirrored on the glassy deep, and +straight a boat is seen, sweeping along with sixteen oars, springing +with every jerk of the strong arms, to his capture. And when the white +waves rise like mountains, and the lowering storm descends, sending tons +of water across his decks, and wetting his highest rigging with the +fleecy drift he dares not cry for help; the signal that would speak of +his distress, would be the knell, to toll his ruin. We knew this well. +We felt that come what would, from others, there was nothing to be +hoped. It was then, with agonizing suspense we watched the little craft, +as she worked in the stormy sea; we saw that with every tack, we were +losing. The strong land current that set in shore, told upon us, at +every reach; and when we went about, the dark and beetling cliffs seemed +actually toppling over us, and the wild cries of the sea-fowl, rang, +like a dirge in our ears. The small storm-jib we were obliged to set, +sunk us by the head, and at every pitch the little vessel seemed +threatening to go down, bow foremost. + +“Our great endeavour was to round the headland, which forms the southern +shore of the Shannon’s mouth. There is a small sound there, between this +point and the rocks, they call the ‘Blasquets,’ and for this we were +making with all our might. Thus passed our night, and when day broke, a +cheer of joy burst from our little crew, as we beheld the Blasquets on +our weather bow, and saw that the sound lay straight before us. Scarce +had the shout died away, when a man in the rigging cried out-- + +“‘A sail to windward:’ and the instant after added--‘a man-of-war brig.’ + +“The skipper sprang on the bulwark, and setting his glass in the +shrouds, examined the object, which, to the naked eye, was barely a haze +in the horizon. + +“‘She carries eighteen guns,’ said he slowly, ‘and is steering our +course. I say, O’Kelly, there’s no use in running in shore, to be +pinioned,--what’s to be done?’ + +“The thought of the information I was in possession of, flashed across +me. Life was never so dear before, but I could not speak. I knew the old +man’s all, was on the venture, I knew, too, if we were attacked, his +resolve was to fight her to the last spar that floated. + +“‘Come,’ said he again, ‘there’s a point more south’ard in the wind; we +might haul her close, and make for Galway Bay. Two hours would land the +cargo, at least enough of it, and if the craft must go--’ + +“A heavy squall struck us as he spoke; the vessel reeled over, till she +laid her channels in the sea. A snap like the report of a shot was +heard, and the topmast came tumbling down upon the deck, the topsail +falling to leeward, and hanging by the bolt-ropes over our gunwale. The +little craft immediately fell off from the wind, and plunged deeper than +ever in the boiling surf; at the same instant a booming sound swept +across the water, and a shot striking the sea near, ricochetted over the +bowsprit, and passed on, dipping and bounding, towards the shore. + +“‘She’s one of their newly-built ones,’ said the second-mate, an +Irishman, who chewed his quid of tobacco as he gazed at her, as coolly, +as if he was in a dock-yard. ‘I know the ring of her brass guns.’ + +“A second and a third flash, followed by two reports, came almost +together, but this time they fell short of us, and passed away in our +wake. + +“We cut away the fallen rigging, and seeing nothing for it, now, but to +look to our own safety, we resolved to run the vessel up the bay, and +try if we could not manage to conceal some portions of the cargo, before +the man-o’-war could overtake us. The caves along the shore were all +well known to us, every one of them had served either as a store, or a +place of concealment. The wind, however, freshened every minute; the +storm jib was all we could carry, and this, instead of aiding, dipped us +heavily by the head, while the large ship gained momentarily on us, and +now, her tall masts and white sails lowered close in our wake. + +“‘Shall we stave these puncheons?’ said the mate in a whisper to the +skipper; ‘she’ll be aboard of us in no time.’ + +“The old man made no reply, but his eyes turned from the man-o’-war to +shore, and back again, and his mouth quivered slightly. + +“‘They’d better get the hatches open, and heave over that tobacco,’ said +the mate, endeavouring to obtain an answer. + +“‘She’s hauled down her signal for us to lie to,’ observed the skipper, +‘and see there, her bow ports are open--here it comes.’ + +“A bright flash burst out as he spoke, and one blended report was heard, +as the shots skimmed the sea beside us. + +“‘Run that long gun aft,’ cried the old fellow, as his eyes flashed and +his colour mounted. ‘I’ll rake their after-deek for them, or I’m +mistaken. + +“For the first time the command was not obeyed at once. The men looked +at each other in hesitation, and as if not determined what part to take. + +“‘What do you stare at there,’ cried he in a voice of passion, ‘O’Kelly, +up with the old bunting, and let them see who they’ve got to deal with.’ + +“A brown flag, with a Dutch lion in the centre, was run up the signal- +halliards, and the next minute floated out bravely from our gaff. + +“A cheer burst from the man-of-war’s crew, as they beheld the signal of +defiance. Its answer was a smashing discharge from our long swivel, that +tore along their decks, cutting the standing rigging, and wounding +several as it went. The triumph was short-lived for us. Shot after shot +poured in from the brig, which, already to windward, swept our entire +decks; while an incessant: roll of small arms, showed that our challenge +was accepted to the death. + +“‘Down, helm,’ said the old man in a whisper to the sailor at the wheel- +-’down, helm;’ while already the spitting waves that danced half a mile +ahead, betokened a reef of rocks, over which at low water a row boat +could not float. + +“‘I know it, I know it well,’ was the skippers reply to the muttered +answer of the helmsman. + +“By this, time the brig was slackening sail, and still his fire was +maintained as hotly as ever. The distance between us increased at each +moment, and, had we sea-room, it was possible for us yet to escape. + +“Our long gun was worked without ceasing, and we could see from time to +time, that a bustle on the deck, denoted the destruction it was dealing; +when suddenly a wild shout burst from one of our men--‘the man-of-war’s +aground, her topsails are aback,’ A mad cheer--the frantic cry of rage +and desperation--broke from us; when, at the instant, a reeling shock +shook us from stem to stern. The little vessel trembled like a living +thing; and then, with a crash like thunder, the hatchways sprang from +their fastenings, and the white sea leaped up, and swept along the deck. +One drowning cry, one last mad yell burst forth. + +“‘Three cheers, my boys!’ cried the skipper, raising his cap above his +head. + +“Already, she was settling in the sea--the death notes rang out high +over the storm; a wave swept me overboard at the minute, and my latest +consciousness was seeing the old skipper clinging to the bow-sprit, +while his long grey hair was floating wildly behind: but the swooping +sea rolled over and over me. A kind of despairing energy nerved me, and +after being above an hour in the water, I was taken up, still swimming, +by one of the shore boats, which, as the storm abated, had ventured out +to the assistance of the sloop; and thus was I shipwrecked, within a few +hundred yards of the spot, where first I had ventured on the sea--the +only one saved of all the crew. Of the ‘Dart,’ not a spar reached shore; +the breaking sea tore her to atoms. + +“The ‘Hornet’ scarcely fared better. She landed eight of her crew, badly +wounded; one man was killed, and she herself was floated only after +months of labour, and never, I believe, went to sea afterwards. + +“The sympathy which in Ireland is never refused to misfortune, no matter +how incurred, stood me in stead now; for although every effort was made +by the authorities to discover if any of the smuggler’s crew had reached +shore alive, and large rewards were offered, no one would betray me; and +I lay as safely concealed beneath the thatch of an humble cabin, as +though the proud walls of a baronial castle afforded me their +protection. + +“From day to day I used to hear of the hot and eager inquiry going +forward to trace out, by any means, something of the wrecked vessel; +and, at last, news reached me, that a celebrated thief-taker from Dublin +had arrived in the neighbourhood, to assist in the search. + +“There was no time to be lost now. Discovery would not only have +perilled my own life, but also have involved those of my kind +protectors. How to leave the village was, however, the difficulty, +Revenue and man-of-war boats, abounded on the Shannon, since the day of +the wreck; the Ennis road was beset by police, who scrutinized every +traveller that passed on the west coast. The alarm was sounded, and no +chance of escape presented itself in that quarter. In this dilemma, +fortune, which so often stood my friend, did not desert me. It chanced +that a strolling company of actors, who had been performing for some +weeks past in Kilrush, were about to set of to Ennistymon, where they +were to give several representations. Nothing could be easier than to +avoid detection in such company; and I soon managed to be included in +the corps, by accepting an engagement as a ‘walking gentleman,’ at a low +salary, and on the next morning found myself seated on the ‘van,’ among +a very motley crew of associates, in whose ways and habits I very soon +contrived to familiarize myself, becoming, before we had gone many +miles, somewhat of a favourite in the party. + +“I will not weary you with any account of my strolling life. Every one +knows something of the difficulties which beset the humble drama; and +ours was of the humblest. Joe Hume himself could not have questioned one +solitary item in our budget: and I defy the veriest quibbler on a grand +jury to ‘traverse,’ a spangle on a pair of our theatrical smallclothes. + +“Our scenes were two in number: one represented a cottage interior-- +pots, kettles, a dresser, and a large fire, being depicted in smoke- +coloured traits thereon--this, with two chairs and a table, was +convertible into a parlour in a private house; and again, by a red- +covered arm-chair, and an old banner, became a baronial hall, or the +saloon in a palace: the second, represented two houses on the flat, with +an open country between them, a mill, a mountain, a stream, and a rustic +bridge inclusive. This, then, was either a Street in a town, a wood, a +garden, or any other out-of-door place of resort, for light comedy +people, lovers, passionate fathers, waiting-maids, robbers, or chorus +singers. + +“The chiefs of our corps were Mr. and Mrs. M’Elwain, who, as their names +bespoke, came from the north of Ireland, somewhere near Coleraine, I +fancy, but cannot pretend to accuracy; but I know it was on the borders +of ‘Darry.’ + +“How, or what, had ever induced a pair of as common-place, matter-of- +fact folk, as ever lived, to take to the Thespian art, heaven can tell. +Had Mr. Mac been a bailiff, and madam a green-groceress, nature would +seem to have dealt fairly with them; he, being a stout, red-faced, +black-bearded tyke, with a thatch of straight black hair, cut in +semicircles over his ears, so as to permit character wigs without +inconvenience, heavy in step, and plodding in gait. She, a tall, raw- +boned woman, of some five-and-forty, with piercing grey eyes, and a +shrill harsh voice, that would have shamed the veriest whistle that ever +piped through a key-hole. Such were the Macbeth and the Lady Macbeth-- +the Romeo and Juliet--the Hamlet and Ophelia of the company; but their +appearance was a trifle to the manner and deportment of their style. +Imagine Juliet with a tattered Leghorn bonnet, a Scotch shawl, and a +pair of brown boots, declaiming somewhat in this guise-- + + +“’ Come, _gantle_ night, come loving black-browed night, _Gie_ me my +_Romo!_ and when he shall _dee_, _Tak_ him, and cut him into _leetle_ +stars, And he will _mak’_ the face of heaven _sae_ fine, That _a’_ the +_warld_ will be in _lo’e_ with him.’ + +“With these people I was not destined long to continue. The splendid +delusion of success was soon dispelled; and the golden harvest I was to +reap, settled down into something like four shillings a week, out of +which came stoppages of so many kinds and shapes, that my salary might +have been refused at any moment, under the plea, that there was no coin +of the realm, in which to pay it. + +“One by one, every article of my wardrobe went to supply the wants of my +stomach; and I remember well my great coat, preserved with the tenacity +with which a shipwrecked-mariner hoards up his last biscuit, was +converted into mutton, to regale Messrs. Iago, Mercutio, and Cassius, +with Mesdames Ophelia, Jessica, Desdemona, and Co. It would make the +fortune of an artist, could he only have witnessed the preparations for +our entertainment. + +“The festival was in honour, of what, the manager was pleased by a +singular figure of speech to call, my ‘benefit;’ the only profit +accruing to me from the aforesaid benefit, being, any satisfaction I +might feel in seeing my name in capitals, and the pleasure of waiting on +the enlightened inhabitants of Kilrush, to solicit their patronage. + +“There was something to me of indescribable melancholy in that morning’s +perambulation, for independent of the fact, that I was threatened by one +with the stocks, as a vagabond, another, set a policeman to dog me, as a +suspicious character, and a third, mistook me for, a rat-catcher; the +butcher, with whom I negotiated for the quarter of mutton, came gravely +up, and examined the texture of my raiment, calling in a jury of his +friends to decide, if he wasn’t making a bad bargain. + +“Night came, and I saw myself dressed for Petrucio, the character in +which I was to bring down thunders of applause, and fill the treasury to +overflowing. What a conflict of feelings was mine--now rating Catherine +in good round phrase, before the audience--now slipping behind the flats +to witness the progress of the ‘cuisine,’ for which I longed, with the +appetite of starvation,--how the potatoes split their jackets with +laughing, as they bubbled up and down, in the helmet of Coriolanus, for +such I grieve to say was the vessel used on the occasion; the roasting +mutton was presided over by ‘a gentleman of Padua,’ and Christopher Sly +was employed in concocting some punch, which, true to his name, he +tasted so frequently, it was impossible to awake him, towards the last +act. + +“It was in the first scene of the fourth act, in which, with the +feelings of a famished wolf, I was obliged to assist at a mock supper on +the stage, with wooden beef, parchment fowls, wax pomegranates, and gilt +goblets, in which only the air prevented a vacuum. Just as I came to the +passage-- + + +‘Come, Kate, sit down--I know you have a stomach, Will you give thanks, +sweet Kate, or else shall I? What is this--mutton? + +“At that very moment, as I flung the ‘pine-saddle,’ from one end of the +stage to the other, a savoury odour reached my nose; the clatter of +knives, the crash of plates, the sounds of laughter and merriment, fell +upon my ears--the wretches were at supper! Even the ‘first servant,’ who +should have responded to my wrath, bolted from the stage like a shot, +leaving his place without a moment’s warning; and ‘Catherine, the +sweetest Kate in Christendom, my dainty Kate,’ assured me with her mouth +full, ‘the meat was well, if I were so contented.’ Determined to satisfy +myself on the point--regardless of every thing but my hunger, I rushed +off the stage, and descended like a vulture, in the midst of the supper +party; threats, denunciations, entreaties, were of no use, I wouldn’t go +back; and let the house storm and rage, I had helped myself to a slice +of the joint, and cared for nobody. It was in vain they told me, that +the revenue officer and his family were outrageous with passion; and as +to the apothecary in the stage box, he had paid for six tickets in +‘senna mixture;’ but heaven knows, I wasn’t a case for such a regimen. + +“All persuasions failing, Mr. M’Elwain, armed all in proof, rushed at me +with a tin scimitar, while Madame, more violent still, capsized the +helmet and its scalding contents over my person, and nearly flayed me +alive. With frantic energy I seized the joint, and, fighting my way +through the whole company, rushed from the spot. + + +‘Romans,’ ‘countrymen,’ and ‘lovers,’ ‘Dukes,’ ‘duennas,’ ‘demigods,’ +and ‘dancers,’ with a loud yell, joined in the pursuit. Across the stage +we went, amid an uproar, that would have done credit to Pandemonium. I +was ‘nimblest of foot,’ however, and having forced my way through an +‘impracticable’ door, I jumped clean through the wood, and having +tripped up an ‘angel’ that was close on my heels, I seized a candle, +‘thirty-six to the pound,’ and applying it to the edge of the kitchen +aforementioned, bounded madly on, leaving the whole concern wrapped in +flames. Down the street I went, as if bloodhounds were behind me, and +never stopped my wild career until I reached a little eminence at the +end of the town; then I drew my breath, and turned one last look upon +the ‘Theatre Royal.’ It was a glorious spectacle to a revengeful spirit- +-amid the volumes of flame and smoke that rose to heaven, (for the +entire building was now enveloped,) might be seen the discordant mass of +actors and audience, mixed up madly together--Turks, tailors, tumblers, +and tidewaiters, grandees and grocers, imps and innkeepers; there they +were all screaming, in concert, while the light material of the +‘property-room’ was ascending in myriads of sparks. Castles and forests, +baronial halls and robbers’ caves, were mounting to mid-heaven, amid the +flash of blue lights, and the report of stage combustibles. + +“You may be sure, that however gratifying to my feelings this last scene +of the drama was, I did not permit myself much leisure to contemplate +its a very palpable conviction staring me full in the face, that such a +spectacle might not exactly redound to my ‘benefit,’ I, therefore, +addressed myself to the road, moralizing as I went, somewhat in this +fashion: I have lost a respectable, but homely suit of apparel; and +instead, I have acquired a green doublet, leathern hose, jack boots, a +douched hat and a feather. Had I played out my part, by this time I +should have been strewing the stage with a mock supper. Now, I was +consoling my feelings with real mutton, which, however, wanting its +ordinary accompaniments, was a delicacy of no common order to me. I had +not it is true, the vociferous applause of a delighted audience to aid +my digestion as Petrucio. But the pleasant whisper of a good conscience, +was a more flattering reward to Con O’Kelly. This balanced the account +in my favour; and I stepped out with that light heart, which is so +unequivocal an evidence of an innocent and happy disposition. + +“Towards day-break, I had advanced some miles on the road to Killaloe; +when before me I perceived a drove of horses, coupled together with all +manner of strange tackle, halters, and hay ropes. Two or three country +lads were mounted among them, endeavouring as well as they were able, to +keep them quiet; while a thick, short, red-faced fellow, in dirty +‘tops,’ and a faded green frock led the way, and seemed to preside over +the procession. As I drew near, my appearance caused no common +commotion; the drivers fixing their eyes on me, could mind nothing else; +the cattle, participating in the sentiments, started, capered, plunged, +and neighed fearfully. While the leader of the corps, furious at the +disorder he witnessed, swore like a trooper, as with a tremendous +cutting whip he dashed here and there through the crowd, slashing men +and horses, with a most praiseworthy impartiality. At last, his eyes +fell upon me, and for a moment, I was full sure my fate was sealed; as +he gripped his saddle closer, tightened his curb-rein, and grasped his +powerful whip with redoubled energy. + +“The instincts of an art are very powerful; for seeing the attitude of +the man, and beholding the savage expression of his features, I threw +myself into a stage position, slapped down my beaver with one hand, and +drawing my sword with the other, called out in a rich melodramatic howl- +-’Come on, Macduff!’ my look, my gesture, my costume, and above all my +voice, convinced my antagonist that I was insane; and, as quickly the +hard unfeeling character of his face relaxed, and an expression of rude +pity passed across it. + +“‘’Tis Billy Muldoon, sir, I’m sure,’ cried one of the boys, as with +difficulty he sat the plunging beast under him. + +“‘No, sir,’ shouted another, ‘he’s bigger nor Billy, but he has a look +of Hogan about the eyes.’ + +“‘Hould your prate,’ cried the master. ‘Sure Hogan was hanged at the +summer assizes.’ + +“‘I know he was, sir,’ was the answer, given as coolly, as though no +contradiction arose on that score. + +“‘Who are you,’ cried the leader? ‘where do you come from?’ + +“‘From Ephesus, my lord,’ said I, bowing with stage solemnity, and +replacing my sword within my scabbard. + +“‘Where?’ shouted he, with his hand to his ear. + +“‘From Kilrush, most potent,’ replied I, approaching near enough to +converse without being overheard by the others: while in a few words I +explained, that my costume and appearance were only professional +symbols, which a hasty departure from my friends prevented my changing. + +“‘And where are you going now?’ was the next query. + +“‘May I ask you the same,’ said I. + +“‘Me, why I’m for Killaloe--for the fair tomorrow.’ + +“‘That’s exactly my destination,’ said I. + +“‘And how do you mean to go?’ retorted he, ‘It’s forty miles from here.’ + +“‘I have a notion,’ replied I, ‘that the dark chesnut there, with the +white fetlock, will have the honour of conveying me.’ + +“A very peculiar grin, which I did not half admire, was the reply to +this speech. + +“‘There’s many a one I wouldn’t take under five shillings from, for the +day,’ said I; ‘but the times are bad, and somehow I like the look of +you. Is it a bargain?’ + +“‘Faix, I’m half inclined to let you try the same horse,’ said he. ‘It +would be teaching you something, any how. Did ye ever hear of the +Playboy?’ + +“‘To be sure I did. Is that he?’ + +“He nodded. + +“‘And you’re Dan Moone,’ said I. + +“‘The same,’ cried he, in astonishment. + +“‘Come, Dan, turn about is fair play. I’ll ride the horse for you to- +morrow--where you like, and over, what you like--and in reward, you’ll +let me mount one of the others as far as Killaloe: we’ll dine together +at the cross roads.’--Here I slipped the mutton from under the tail of +my coat.--‘Do you say done?’ + +“‘Get upon the gray pony,’ was the short rejoinder; and the next moment +I was seated on the back of as likely a cob as I ever bestrode. + +“My first care was to make myself master of my companion’s character, +which I did in a very short time, while affecting to disclose my own, +watching, with a sharp eye, how each portion of my history told upon +him. I saw that he appreciated, with a true horse-dealer’s ‘onction,’ +any thing that smacked of trick or stratagem; in fact, he looked upon +all mankind as so many ‘screws,’ he being the cleverest fellow who could +detect their imperfections, and unveil their unsoundness. In proportion +as I recounted to him the pranks and rogueries of my boyish life, his +esteem for me rose higher and higher; and, before the day was over, I +had won so much of his confidence, that he told me the peculiar vice and +iniquity of every horse he had, describing with great satisfaction the +class of purchasers, he had determined to meet with. + +“‘There is little Paul there,’ said he, ‘that brown cob, with the +cropped ears, there isn’t such a trotter in Ireland; but somehow, though +you can see his knees from the saddle when he’s moving, he’ll come slap +down with you, as if he was shot, the moment you touch his flank with +the spur, and then there’s no getting him up again, till you brush his +ear with the whip--the least thing does it--he’s on his legs in a +minute, and not a bit the worse of his performance.’ + +“Among all the narratives he told, this made the deepest impression on +me. That the animal had been taught the accomplishment, there could be +no doubt; and I began to puzzle my brain in what way it might best be +turned to advantage. It was of great consequence to me to impress my +friend at once with a high notion of my powers; and here was an +admirable occasion for their exercise, if I only could hit on a plan. + +“The conversation turned on various subjects, and at last, as we neared +Killaloe, my companion began to ponder over the most probable mode I +could be of service to him, on the following day. It was at last agreed +upon, that, on reaching town, I should exchange my Petrucio costume for +that of a ‘squireen,’ or half gentleman; and repair to the ordinary at +the ‘Green-man,’ where nearly all the buyers put up, and all the talk on +sporting matters went forward. This suited me perfectly, I was delighted +to perform a new part, particularly when the filling up was left to my +own discretion. Before an hour elapsed after our arrival, I saw myself +attired in a very imposing suit--blue coat, cords and tops, that would +have fitted me for a very high range of character in my late profession. +O’Kelly was a name, as Pistol says, ‘of good report,’ and there was no +need to change it; so I took my place at the supper-table, among some +forty others, comprising a very fair average of the raffs and raps, of +the county. The mysteries of horse-flesh, were, of course, the only +subject of conversation; and before the punch made its appearance, I +astonished the company by the extent of my information, and the +acuteness of my remarks. + +“I improvised steeple-chases over impossible countries, invented +pedigrees for horses yet unfoaled, and threw out such a fund of anecdote +about the ‘turf’ and the ‘chace,’ that I silenced the old established +authorities of the place, and a general buzz went round the table of, +‘Who can he be, at all--where did he come from?’ + +“As the evening wore apace, my eloquence grew warm--I described my stud +and my kennel, told some very curious instances of my hunting +experience, and when at last a member of the party, piqued at my +monopoly of the conversation, endeavoured to turn my flank by an +allusion to grouse-shooting, I stopped him at once, by asserting with +vehemence, that no man deserved the name of sportsman who shot over +dogs--a sudden silence pervaded the company, while the last speaker +turning towards me with a malicious grin, begged to know how I bagged my +game, for that, in _his_ county, they were ignorant enough to follow the +old method. + +“‘With a pony of course,’ said I, finishing my glass. + +“‘A pony!’ cried one after the other--how do you mean?’ + +“‘Why,’ resumed I, ‘that I have a pony sets every species of game, as +true as the best pointer that ever ‘stopped.’ + +“A hearty roar of laughing followed this declaration, and a less +courageous spirit than mine would have feared that all his acquired +popularity was in danger. + +“‘You have him with you, I suppose,’ said a sly old fellow from the end +of the table. + +“‘Yes,’ said I carelessly--‘I brought him over here to take a couple of +days’ shooting, if there is any to be had. + +“‘You would have no objection,’ said another insinuatingly, ‘to let us +look at the beast?’ + +“‘Not the least,’ said I. + +“‘Maybe you’d take a bet on it,’ said a third. + +“‘I fear I couldn’t,’ said I,--‘the thing is too sure--the wager would +be an unfair one.’ + +“‘Oh! as to that,’ cried three or four together, ‘we’ll take our chance, +for even if we were to lose, it’s well worth paying for.’ + +“The more I expressed my dislike to bet, the more warmly they pressed +me, and I could perceive that a general impression was spreading that my +pony was about as apocryphal as many of my previous stories. + +“‘Ten pounds with you, he doesn’t do it,’ said an old hard-featured +squire. + +“‘The same from me,’ cried another. + +“‘Two to one in fifties,’ shouted a third, until every man at table had +proffered his wager, and I gravely called for pen, ink, and paper, and +booked them, with all due form. + +“‘Now, when is it to come off?’ was the question of some half dozen. + +“‘Now, if you like it--the night seems fine.’ + +“‘No, no,’ said they, laughing, ‘there’s no such hurry as that; to- +morrow we are going to draw Westenra’s cover--what do you say if you +meet us there, by eight o’clock--and we’ll decide the bet.’ + +“‘Agreed,’ said I; and shaking hands with the whole party, I folded up +my paper, placed it in my pocket, and wished them good night. + +“Sleep was, however, the last thing in my thoughts; repairing to the +little public-house where I left my friend Dan, I asked him if he knew +any one well acquainted with the country, and who could tell, at a +moment, where a hare, or a covey was to be found. “‘To be sure,’ said he +at once; ‘there’s a boy below knows every puss and every bird in the +country. Tim Daly would bring you, dark as the night is, to the very +spot where you’d find one.’ + +“In a few minutes I had made Mr. Tim’s acquaintance, and arranged with +him to meet me at the cover on the following morning, a code of signals +being established between us, by which, he was to convey to me the +information of where a hare was lying, or a covey to be sprung. + +“A little before eight I was standing beside ‘Paul’ on the appointed +spot, the centre of an admiring circle, who, whatever their misgivings +as to his boasted skill, had only one opinion about his shapes and +qualities. + +“‘Splendid forehand’--‘what legs’--‘look at his quarters’--‘and so deep +in the heart’--were the exclamations heard on every side--till a rosy- +cheeked fat little fellow growing impatient at the delay, cried out-- + +“‘Come, Mr. O’Kelly, mount if you please, and come along.’ + +“I tightened my girth--sprang into the saddle--my only care being, to +keep my toes in as straight a line as I could, with my feet. Before we +proceeded half a mile, I saw Tim seated on a stile, scratching his head +in a very knowing manner; upon which, I rode out from the party, and +looking intently at the furze cover in front, called out-- + +“‘Keep back the dogs there--call them off--hush, not a word.’ + +“The hounds were called in, the party reined back their horses, and all +sat silent spectators of my movements. + +“When suddenly I touched ‘Paul’ in both flanks, down he dropped, like a +parish clerk, stiff and motionless as a statue. + +“‘What’s that?’ cried two or three behind. + +“‘He’s setting, said I, in a whisper. + +“‘What is it, though?’ said one. + +“‘A hare!’ said I, and at the same instant I shouted to lay on the dogs, +and tipping Paul’s ears, forward I went. Out bolted puss, and away we +started across the country, I leading, and taking all before me. + +“We killed in half an hour, and found ourselves not far from the first +cover; my friend Tim, being as before in advance, making the same signal +as at first. The same performance was now repeated. ‘Paul’ went through +his part to perfection; and notwithstanding the losses, a general cheer +saluted us as we sprung to our legs, and dashed after the dogs. + +“Of course I didn’t spare him: everything now depended on my sustaining +our united fame; and there was nothing too high or too wide for me, that +morning. + +“‘What will you take for him, Mr. O’Kelly?’ was the question of each +man, as he came up to the last field. + +“‘Would you like any further proof?’ said I. ‘Is any gentleman +dissatisfied?’ + +“A general ‘No’ was the answer; and again the offers were received from +every quarter, while they produced the bank-notes, and settled their +bets. It was no part of my game, however, to sell him; the trick might +be discovered before I left the country, and if so, there wouldn’t be a +whole bone remaining in my skin. + +“My refusal evidently heightened both _my_ value and _his_, and I +sincerely believe there was no story I could tell, on our ride back to +town, which would not have met credence that morning; and, indeed, to do +myself justice, I tried my popularity to its utmost. + +“By way of a short cut back, as the fair was to begin at noon, we took a +different route, which led across some grass fields, and a small river. +In traversing this, I unfortunately was in the middle of some miraculous +anecdote, and entirely forgot my pony and his acquirements; and as he +stopped to drink, without thinking of what I was doing, with the common +instinct of a rider, I touched him with the spur. Scarcely had the rowel +reached his side, when down he fell, sending me head foremost over his +neck into the water. For a second or two the strength of the current +carried me along, and it was only after a devil of a scramble I gained +my legs, and reached the bank wet through, and heartily ashamed of +myself. + +“‘Eh, O’Kelly, what the deuce was that?’ cried one of the party, as a +roar of laughter broke from amongst them. + +“‘Ah!’ said I, mournfully,’ I wasn’t quick enough/ + +“‘Quick enough!’ cried they. ‘Egad, I never saw anything like it. Why, +man, you were shot off like an arrow.’ + +“‘Leaped off, if you please,’ said I, with an air of an offended +dignity--‘leaped off--didn’t you see it?’ + +“‘See what?’ + +“‘The salmon, to be sure. A twelve-pounder, as sure as my name’s +O’Kelly. He “set” it.’ + +“‘Set a salmon!’ shouted twenty voices in a breath. ‘The thing’s +impossible.’ + +“‘Would you like a bet on it?’ asked I drily. + +“‘No, no--damn it; no more bets; but surely----’ + +“‘Too provoking, after all,’ muttered I, ‘to have lost so fine a fish, +and get such a ducking’; and with that I mounted my barb, and, waving my +hand, wished them a good-bye, and galloped into Killaloe. + +“This story I have only related, because, insignificant as it was, it +became in a manner the pivot of my then fate in life. The jockey at once +made me an offer of partnership in his traffic, displaying before me the +numerous advantages of such a proposal. I was a disengaged man--my +prospects not peculiarly brilliant--the state of my exchequer by no +means encouraging the favourite nostrum of a return to cash payments, +and so I acceded, and entered at once upon my new profession with all +the enthusiasm I was always able to command, no matter what line of life +solicited my adoption. + +“But it’s near one o’clock, and so now, Mr. O’Leary, if you’ve no +objection, we’ll have a grill and a glass of Madeira, and then, if you +can keep awake an hour or so longer, I’ll try and finish my adventures.” + + + +CHAPTER VII. O’KELLY’S TALE.--CONTINUED. + +“I left off at that flattering portion of my history where I became a +horse-dealer; in this capacity I travelled over a considerable portion +of Ireland, now larking it in the West--jollifying in the South--and +occasionally suffering a penance for both enjoyments, by a stray trip to +Ulster. In these rambles I contrived to make acquaintance with most of +the resident gentry, who, by the special freemasonry that attends my +calling, scrupled not to treat me on terms of half equality, and even +invite me to their houses--a piece of condescension on their part, which +they well knew was paid for, in more solid advantages. + +“In a word, Mr. O’Leary, I became a kind of moral amphibia, with powers +to sustain life in two distinct and opposite elements--now brushing my +way among frieze-coated farmers, trainers, dealers, sharpers, and +stablemen; now floating on the surface of a politer world, where the +topics of conversation took a different range, and were couched in a +very different vocabulary. + +“My knowledge of French, and my acquaintance with Parisian life, at +least as seen in that class in which I used to mix, added to a kind of +natural tact, made me, as far as manners and ‘usage’ were concerned, +fully the equal of those with whom I associated; and I managed matters +so well, that the circumstance of my being seen in the morning with +cords and tops of jockey cut, showing off a ‘screw,’ or extolling the +symmetry of a spavined hackney, never interfered with the pretensions I +put forward at night, when, arranged in suit of accurate black, I turned +over the last new opera, or delivered a very scientific criticism on the +new ‘ballet’ in London, or the latest fashion imported from the +Continent. + +“Were I to trace back this part of my career, I might perhaps amuse you +more by the incidents it contained, than by any other portion of my +life; nothing indeed is so suggestive of adventure, as that anomaly +which the French denominate so significantly--‘a false position,’ The +man who--come, come, don’t be afraid, though that sounds very like +Joseph Surface, I’m not going to moralize--the man, I say, who +endeavours to sustain two distinct lines in life, is very likely to fail +in both, and so I felt it, for while my advantages all inclined to one +side, my taste and predilections leaned to the other; I could never +adopt knavery as a profession--as an amateur I gloried in it: roguery, +without risk, was a poor pettifogging policy that I spurned; but a +practical joke that involved life or limb, a hearty laugh, or a heavy +reckoning, was a temptation I never could resist. The more I mixed in +society, the greater my intimacy with persons of education and +refinement, the stronger became my repugnance to my actual condition, +and the line of life I had adopted. While my position in society was +apparently more fixed, I became in reality more nervously anxious for +its stability. The fascinations which in the better walks of life are +thrown around the man of humble condition, but high aspirings, are +strong and sore temptations, while he measures and finds himself not +inferior to others, to whom the race is open, and the course is free, +and yet feels in his own heart, that there is a bar upon his escutcheon +which excludes him from the lists. I began now to experience this in all +its poignancy. Among the acquaintances I had formed, one of my most +intimate was a young baronet, who had just succeeded to a large estate +in the county Kilkenny. Sir Harvey Blundell was an Anglo-Irishman in +more than one sense: from his English father he had inherited certain +staid and quiet notions of propriety, certain conventional ideas +regarding the observance of etiquette, which are less valued in Ireland; +while, from his mother, he succeeded to an appreciation of native fun +and drollery, of all the whims and oddities of Irish life, which, +strange enough, are as well understood by the Anglo-Irishman, as by one +‘to the manner born.’ + +“I met Sir Harvey at a supper party in College. Some song I had sung of +my own composing, or some story of my inventing, I forget which, tickled +his fancy: he begged to be introduced to me, drew his chair over to my +side of the table, and ended by giving an invitation to his house for +the partridge-shooting, which was to begin in a few days; I readily +assented--it was a season in which I had nothing to do, my friend Dan +had gone over to the Highlands to make a purchase of some ponies; I was +rather flush of cash, and consequently in good spirits. It was arranged, +then, that I should drive him down in my drag, a turn-out with four +spanking greys, of whose match and colour, shape and action, I was not a +little vain. + +“We posted to Carlow, to which place I had sent on my horses, and +arrived the same evening at Sir Harvey’s house, in time for dinner. This +was the first acquaintance I had made, independent of my profession. Sir +Harvey knew me, as Mr. O’Kelly whom he met at an old friend’s chambers +in College; and he introduced me thus to his company, adding to his +intimates in a whisper I could overhear--‘devilish fast fellow, up to +every thing--knows life at home, and abroad, and has such a team!’ Here +were requisites enough, in all conscience, to win favour among any set +of young country-gentlemen, and I soon found myself surrounded by a +circle, who listened to my opinions on every subject, and recorded my +judgments, with the most implicit faith in their wisdom, no matter on +what I talked, women, wine, the drama, play, sporting, debts, duns, or +duels, my word was law. + +“Two circumstances considerably aided me in my present supremacy: first, +Sir Harvey’s friends were all young men from Oxford, who knew little of +the world, and less of that part of it called Ireland; and secondly, +they were all strangers to me, and consequently my liberty of speech was +untrammelled by any unpleasant reminiscences of dealing, in fairs or +auctions. + +“The establishment was presided over by Sir Harvey’s sister, at least, +nominally so--her presence being a reason for having ladies at his +parties; and although she was only nineteen, she gave a tone and +character to the habits of the house, which, without her, it never could +have possessed. Miss Blundell was a very charming person, combining in +herself two qualities which, added to beauty, made a very irresistible +_ensemble_: she had the greatest flow of spirits, with a retiring and +almost timidly bashful disposition: courage for any thing, and a +delicacy that shrunk abashed from all that bordered on display, or bore +the slightest semblance of effrontery. I shall say no more, than that +before I was a week in the house, I was over head and ears in love with +her; my whole thoughts centred in her; my whole endeavour, to show +myself in such a light as might win her favour. + +“Every accomplishment I possessed--every art and power of amusing, urged +to the utmost by the desire to succeed, I exerted in her service; and at +last perceived, that she was not indifferent to me. Then, and then for +the first time, came the thought--who was I, that dared to do this--what +had I of station, rank, or wealth, to entitle me to sue--perhaps to +gain, the affections, of one placed like her? The whole duplicity of my +conduct started up before me, and I saw for the first time, how the mere +ardour of pursuit had led me on and on--how the daring to surmount a +difficulty, had stirred my heart, at first to win, and then to worship +her: and the bitterness of my self-reproach at that moment became a +punishment, which, even now, I remember with a shudder. It is too true! +The great misfortunes of life form more endurable subjects for memory in +old age, than the instances, however trivial, where we have acted amiss, +and where conscience rebukes us. I have had my share of calamity, one +way or other--my life has been more than once in peril--and in such +peril as might well shake the nerve of the boldest: but I can think on +all these, and do think on them, often, without fear or heart-failing; +but never can I face the hours, when my own immediate self-love and +vanity brought their own penalty on me, without a sense of self- +abasement, as vivid as the moment I first experienced it. But I must +hasten over this. I had been now about six weeks in Sir Harvey’s house, +day after day determining on my departure, and invariably yielding when +the time came, to some new request to stay for something or other--now, +a day’s fishing on the Nore--now, another morning at the partridge-- +then, there was--a boat-race, or a music-party, or a pic-nic, in fact +each day led on to another, and I found myself lingering on, unable to +tear myself from where, I felt, my remaining was ruin. + +“At last I made up my mind, and determined, come what would, to take my +leave, never to return. I mentioned to Sir Harvey in the morning that +some matter of importance required my presence in town, and, by a half +promise to spend my Christmas with him, obtained his consent to my +departure. + +“We were returning from an evening walk--Miss Blundell was leaning on my +arm--we were the last of the party who, by some chance or other, had +gone forward, leaving us to follow alone. For some time neither of us +spoke: what were her thoughts, I cannot guess: mine were, I acknowledge, +entirely fixed upon the hour I was to see her for the last time, while I +balanced whether I should speak of my approaching departure, or leave +her without even a ‘good-bye.’ + +“I did not know at the time so well as I now do, how much of the +interest I had excited in her heart depended on the mystery of my life. +The stray hints I now and then dropped--the stories into which I was +occasionally led--the wild scenes and wilder adventures, in which I bore +my part--had done more than stimulate her curiosity concerning me. This, +I repeat, I knew not at the the time, and the secret of my career +weighed like a crime upon my conscience. I hesitated long whether I +should not disclose every circumstance of my life, and, by the avowal of +my utter un-worthiness, repair, as far as might be, the injury I had +done her. Then came that fatal ‘_amour-propre_’ that involved me +originally in the pursuit, and I was silent. We had not been many +minutes thus, when a servant came from the house to inform Miss Blundell +that her cousin, Captain Douglas, had arrived. As she nodded her head in +reply, I perceived the colour mounted to her cheek, and an expression of +agitation passed over her features. + +“‘Who is Captain Douglas?’ said I, without, however, venturing to look +more fully at her. + +“‘Oh! a cousin, a second or third cousin, I believe; but a great friend +of Harvey’s.’ + +“‘And of his sister’s too, if I might presume so far?’ + +“‘Quite wrong for once,’ said she, with an effort to seem at ease: ‘he’s +not the least a favourite of mine, although----’ + +“‘_You_ are of his!’ I added quickly. ‘Well, well, I really beg pardon +for this boldness of mine.’ How I was about to continue, I know not, +when her brother’s voice, calling her aloud, broke off all further +conversation. + +“‘Come, Fanny,’ said he, ‘here’s Harry Douglas, just come with all the +London gossip--he’s been to Windsor too, and has been dining with the +Prince. O’Kelly, you must know Douglas, you are just the men to suit +each other.--He’s got a heavy book on the Derby, and will be delighted +to have a chat with you about the turf. + +“As I followed Miss Blundell into the drawing-room, my heart was heavy +and depressed. + +“Few of the misfortunes in life come on us without foreboding. The +clouds that usher in the storm, cast their shadows on the earth before +they break; and so it is with our fate. A gloomy sense of coming evil, +presages the blow about to fall, and he who would not be stunned by the +stroke, must not neglect the warning. + +“The room was full of people--the ordinary buzz and chit-chat of an +evening-party was going forward, and an hundred pleasant projects were +forming for the next day’s amusement, among which, I heard my name +bandied about, on every side. + +“‘O’Kelly will arrange this,’ cried one--‘leave it all to O’Kelly--he +must decide it;’ and so on, when suddenly Blundell called out-- + +“‘O’Kelly, come up here,’ and then taking me by the arm, he led me to +the end of the room, where with his back turned towards us, a tall +fashionable-looking man was talking to his sister. + +“‘Harry,’ cried the host, as he touched his elbow, ‘let me introduce a +very particular friend of mine--Mr. O’Kelly.’ + +“Captain Douglas wheeled sharply round, and, fixing on me a pair of dark +eyes, overshadowed with heavy beetling brows, looked at me sternly +without speaking. A cold thrill ran through me from head to foot as I +met his gaze; the last time we had seen each other was in a square of +the Royal Barracks, where _he_, was purchasing a remount for his troop, +and _I_, was the horse-dealer. + +“‘_Your_ friend, Mr. O’Kelly!’ said he, as he fixed his glass in his +eye, and a most insulting curl, half smile, half sneer, played about his +mouth. + +“‘How very absurd you are, Harry,’ said Miss Blundell, endeavouring by +an allusion to something they were speaking of, to relieve the excessive +awkwardness of the moment. + +“‘Yes, to be sure, _my_ friend,’ chimed in Sir Harvey, ‘and a devilish +good fellow too, and the best judge of horse-flesh.’ + +“‘I havn’t a doubt of it,’ was the dry remark of the Captain; ‘but how +did he get here?’ + +“‘Sir,’ said I, in a voice scarce audible with passion, ‘whatever, or +whoever I am, by birth at least I am fully your equal.’ + +“‘D----n your pedigree,’ said he coolly. + +“‘Why, Harry, interrupted Blundell: ‘what are you thinking of? Mr. +O’Kelly is----’ + +“‘A jockey--a horse-dealer, if you will, and the best hand at passing +off a screw, I’ve met for some time. I say, sir,’ continued he in a +louder tone, ‘that roan charger hasn’t answered his warranty--he stands +at Dycer’s for you.’ + +“Had a thunderbolt fallen in the midst of us, the consternation could +not have been greater--as for me, everything around bore a look of +mockery and scorn: derision and contempt sat on every feature, and a +wild uncertainty of purpose, like coming insanity, flitted through my +brain: what I said, or how I quitted the spot, I am unable to say; my +last remembrance of that accursed moment was the burst of horrid +laughter that filled my ears, as I rushed out. I almost think that I +hear it still, like the yell of the furies; its very cadence was +torture. I ran from the house--I crossed the fields without a thought of +whither I was going--escape, concealment, my only object. I sought to +hide myself for ever from the eyes of those who had looked upon me with +such withering contempt; and I would have been thankful to him who would +have given me refuge, beneath the dank grass of the churchyard. + +“Never did a guilty man fly from the scene of his crime with more +precipitate haste, than did I from the spot which had witnessed my +shame, and degradation. At every step, I thought of the cruel speeches, +the harsh railings, and the bitter irony, of all, before whom, but one +hour ago, I stood chief and pre-eminent; and although I vowed to myself +never to meet any of them again, I could not pluck from my heart the +innate sense of my despicable condition, and how low I must now stand in +the estimation of the very lowest, I had so late looked down upon. And +here let me passingly remark, that while we often hold lightly the +praise of those, upon whose powers of judgment and reach of information +we place little value, by some strange contrariety we feel most bitterly +the censure of these very people, whenever any trivial circumstance, any +small or petty observance with which they are acquainted, gives them, +for the time, the power of an opinion. The mere fact of our contempt for +them adds a poignancy to their condemnation, and I question much if we +do not bear up better against the censure of the wise, than the scoff of +the ignorant. + +“On I went, and on, never even turning my head; for though I had left +all the little wealth I possessed in the world, I would gladly have +given it, ten times told, to have blotted out even a particle of the +shame that rested on my character. Scarcely had I reached the high road, +when I heard the quick tramp of horses, and the rattle of wheels behind +me; and, so strong were the instincts of my fear, that I scarcely dared +to look back; at length I did so, and beheld the mail-coach coming +towards me at a rapid pace. As it neared, I hailed the coachman, and +without an inquiry as to where it was going, I sprung up to a place on +the roof, thankful that ere long I should leave miles between me, and my +torturers. + +“The same evening we arrived in Cork; during the journey I made +acquaintance with a sergeant of a light dragoon regiment, who was +proceeding in charge of three recruits, to the depot at Cove. With the +quick eye of his calling, the fellow saw something in my dispirited +state that promised success to his wishes; and he immediately began the +thousand-times-told tale of the happiness of a soldier’s life. I stopped +him short at once, for my mind was already made up, and before the day +broke, I had enlisted in his Majesty’s Twelfth Light Dragoons, at that +time serving in America. + +“If I have spared you the recital of many passages in my life, whose +painful memory would hurt me to call up, I shall also pass over this +portion of my career, which, though not marked by any distinct feature +of calamity, was, perhaps, the most painful I ever knew. He who thinks +that in joining the ranks or an army, his only trials will be the +severity of an unaccustomed discipline, and the common hardship of a +soldier’s life, takes but a very shallow view of what is before him. +Coarse and vulgar associates--depraved tastes and brutal habits--the +ribald jest of the barrack-room--the comrade spirit of a class, the very +lowest and meanest--these are the trials, the almost insupportable +trials, of him who has known better days. + +“As hour by hour, he finds himself yielding to the gradual pressure of +his fate, and feels his mind assuming, one by one, the prejudices of +those about him, his self-esteem falls with his condition, and he sees +that the time is not distant, when all inequality between him and his +fellows shall cease, and every trait of his former self be washed away, +for ever. + +“After four months of such endurance as I dare not even now suffer +myself to dwell upon, orders arrived at Cove for the recruits of the +different regiments at once to proceed to Chatham, whence they were to +be forwarded to their respective corps. I believe in my heart, had this +order not come, I should have deserted; so unendurable had my life +become. The thought of active service, the prospect of advancement, +however remote, cheered my spirits, and, for the first time since I +joined, my heart was light on the morning when the old ‘Northumberland’ +transport anchored in the harbour, and the signal for embarking the +troops floated from the mast-head. A motley crew we were--frieze-coated, +red-coated, and no-coated; some, ruddy-cheeked farmer’s boys, sturdy +good-humoured fellows, with the bloom of country life upon their faces; +some, the pale, sickly, inhabitants of towns, whose sharpened features +and quick penetrating eyes, betokened how much their wits had +contributed to their maintenance. A few there were, like myself, drawn +from a better class, but already scarce distinguishable amid the herd. +We were nearly five hundred in number, one feature of equality pervading +all--none of us had any arms. Some instances of revolt and mutiny that +had occurred, a short time previous, on board troop-ships, had induced +the Horse Guards to adopt this resolution, and a general order was +issued, that the recruits should not receive arms before their arrival +at Chatham. At last we weighed anchor, and, with a light easy wind stood +out to sea; it was the first time I had been afloat for many a long day, +and as I leaned over the bulwark, and heard the light rustle of the +waves as they broke on the cut-water, and watched the white foam as it +rippled past, I thought on the old days of my smuggling life, when I +trod the plank of my little craft, with a step as light and a heart as +free, as ever did the proudest admiral on the poop-deck of his three- +decker; and as I remembered what I then had been, and thought of what I +now was, a growing melancholy settled on me, and I sat apart and spoke +to none. + +“On the third night after we sailed, the breeze, which had set in at +sunset, increased considerably, and a heavy sea rolled in from the +westward. Now, although the weather was not such as to endanger the +safety of a good ship with an able crew, yet was it by no means a matter +of indifference in an old rotten craft like the ‘Northumberland,’ +condemned half a dozen years before, and barely able to make her voyage +in light winds and fine weather. Our skipper knew this well, and I could +see by the agitation of his features, and the altered tones of his +voice, how little he liked the freshening gale, and the low moaning +sound that swept along the sea, and threatened a storm. The pumps had +been at work for some hours, and it was clear that the most we could do, +was to keep the water from gaining on us. A chance observation of mine +had attracted the skipper’s attention, and after a few minutes’ +conversation he saw that I was a seaman, not only better informed, but +more habituated to danger than himself; he was, therefore, glad to take +counsel from me, and at my suggestion a spare sail was bent, and passed +under the ship’s bottom, which soon succeeded in arresting the progress +of the leak, and, at the same time, assisted the vessel’s sailing. +Meanwhile the storm was increasing, and it now blew what the sailors +call ‘great guns.’ + +“We were staggering along under light canvas, when the lookout-a-head +announced a light on the weather-bow; it was evidently coming towards +us, and scarce half a mile distant; we had no more than time to hang out +a lantern in the tops and put up the helm, when a large ship, whose +sides rose several feet above our own, swept by us, and so close, that +her yard-arms actually touched our rigging as she yawed over in the sea. +A muttered thanksgiving for our escape, for such it was, broke from +every lip; and hardly was it uttered, when again a voice cried out, +‘here she comes to leeward,’ and sure enough the dark shadow of the +large mass moving at a speed far greater than ours, passed under our +lee, while a harsh summons was shouted out to know who we were, and +whither bound. ‘The Northumberland,’ with troops, was the answer; and +before the words were well out, a banging noise was heard--the ports of +the stranger ship were flung open, a bright flash, like a line of flame, +ran her entire length, and a raking broadside was poured into us. The +old transport reeled over and trembled like a thing of life,--her +shattered sides and torn bulwarks let in the water as she heeled to the +shock, and for an instant, as she bent beneath the storm, I thought she +was settling, to go down by the head. I had little time, however, for +thought: one wild cheer broke from the attacking ship--its answer was +the faint, sad cry, of the wounded and dying on our deck. The next +moment the grapples were thrown into us, and the vessel was boarded from +stem to stern. The noise of the cannonade, and the voices on deck, +brought all our men from below, who came tumbling up the hatches, +believing we had struck. + +“Then began a scene, such as all I have ever witnessed of carnage and +slaughter cannot equal. The Frenchmen, for such they were, rushed down +upon us as we stood defenceless, and unarmed; a deadly roll of musketry +swept our thick and trembling masses. The cutlass and the boarding-pike +made fearful havoc among us, and an unresisted slaughter tore along our +deck, till the heaps of dead and dying made the only barrier for the few +remaining. + +“A chance word in French, and a sign of masonry, rescued me from the +fate of my comrades, and my only injury was a slight sabre-wound in the +fore-arm, which I received in warding off a cut intended for my head. +The carnage lasted scarce fifteen minutes; but in that time, of all the +crew that manned our craft--what between those who leaped overboard in +wild despair, and those who fell beneath fire and steel--scarce twenty +remained, appalled and trembling, the only ones rescued from this +horrible slaughter. + +“A sudden cry of ‘she’s sinking!’ burst from the strange ship, and in a +moment the Frenchmen clambered up their bulwarks, the grapples were cast +off, the dark mass darted onwards on her course, and we, drifted away to +leeward--a moving sepulchre! + +“As the clouds flew past, the moon shone out and threw a pale sickly +light on the scene of slaughter, where the dead and dying lay in +indiscriminate heaps together--so frightful a spectacle never did eye +rest upon! The few who, like myself, survived, stood trembling, half +stunned by the shock, not daring to assist the wretched men at they +writhed in agony before us. I was the first to recover from this stupor, +and turning to the others, I made signs to clear the decks of the dead +bodies--speak I could not. It was some time before they could be made to +understand me; unhappily, not a single sailor had escaped the carnage; a +few raw recruits were the only survivors of that dreadful night. + +“After a little they rallied so far as to obey me, and I, taking the +wheel, assumed the command of the vessel, and endeavoured to steer a +course for any port on the west coast of England. + +“Day broke at length, but a wide waste of waters lay around us: the wind +had abated considerably, but still the sea ran high; and although our +foresail and trysail remained bent, as before the attack, we laboured +heavily, and made little way through the water. Our decks were quite +covered with the dying, whose heart-rending cries, mingled with the +wilder shouts of madness, were too horrible to bear. But I cannot dwell +on such a picture. Of the little party who survived, scarcely three were +serviceable: some sat cold and speechless from terror, and seemed +insensible to every threat or entreaty; some sternly refused to obey my +orders, and prowled about between decks in search of spirits; and one, +maddened by the horrors he beheld, sprang with a scream into the sea, +and never was seen more. + +“Towards evening we heard a hail, and on looking put saw a pilot-boat +making for us, and in a short time we were boarded by a pilot, who, with +some of his crew, took the vessel into their hands, and before sunset we +anchored in Milford. + +“Immediately on landing, I was sent up to London under a strong escort, +to give an account of the whole affair to the Admiralty. For eight days +my examination was continued during several hours every day, and at last +I was dismissed, with promotion to the rank of sergeant, for my conduct +in saving the ship, and appointed to the fortieth foot, then under +orders for Quebec. + +“Once more at sea and in good spirits, I sailed for Quebec on a fine +morning in April, on board the ‘Abercrombie.’ Nothing could be more +delightful than the voyage: the weather was clear, with a fair fresh +breeze and a smooth sea; and at the third week we dropped our lead on +the green bank of Newfoundland, and brought up again a cod fish, every +time we heaved it. We now entered the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and began +anxiously to look for land. + +“On the third morning after we made the ‘Gulf,’ a heavy snow-storm came +on, which prevented our seeing a cable’s length ahead of us. It was so +cold too, that few remained on deck; for although the first of May, it +was about as severe a day as I remember. Anxious to see something of the +country, I remained with the lookout-a-head, straining my eyes to catch +a glimpse of the land through the dense snow-drift. All I could +distinguish, however, was the dim outline of distant mountains, +apparently covered with snow; but, as the day wore on, we came in sight +of the long low island of Anticosti, which, though considerably more +than a hundred miles in length, is not, in any part, more than fifteen +feet above the level of the water. + +“Towards evening the land became much clearer to view; and now I could +perceive tall, peaked mountains some thousand feet in height, their +bases clad with stunted pine-trees--their white summits stretching away +into the clouds. As I looked, my astonishment was great, to find that +the vast gulf, which at day-break was some sixty miles in width, seemed +now diminished to about eight or ten, and continued to narrow rapidly, +as we proceeded on our course. + +“The skipper, who had only made the voyage once before, seemed himself +confused, and endeavoured to explain our apparent vicinity to the land, +as some mere optical delusion--now, attributing it to something in the +refraction of the light; now, the snow: but although he spoke with all +the assurance of knowledge, it was evident to me, that he was by no +means satisfied in his own mind, of the facts he presented to ours. + +“As the snow-storm abated, we could see that the mountains which lay on +either side of us, met each other in front, forming a vast amphitheatre +without any exit. + +“This surely is not the Gulf of St. Lawrence?’ said I to an old sailor +who sat leisurely chewing tobacco with his back to the capstern. + +“‘No, that it ain’t,’ said he coolly; ‘it’s Gaspé Bay, and I shouldn’t +wish to be in a worse place.’ + +“What could have brought us here then? the skipper surely doesn’t know +where we are?’ + +“I’ll tell you what has brought us here. There’s a current from the Gulf +stream sets in to this bay, at seven, or eight knots the hour, and +brings in all the floating ice along with it--There, am I right? do you +hear that?’ + +“As he spoke, a tremendous crash, almost as loud as thunder, was heard +at our bow; and as I rushed to the bulwark and looked over, I beheld +vast fragments of ice more than a foot thick, encrusted with frozen +snow, flying past us in circling eddies; while further on, the large +flakes were mounting, one above the other, clattering, and crashing, as +the waves broke among them. Heaven knows how much farther our mulish +Cumberland skipper would have pursued his voyage of discovery, had not +the soundings proclaimed but five fathom water. Our sails were now +backed; but as the current continued to bear us along, a boat was got +out, and an anchor put in readiness to warp us astern; but by an unhappy +accident the anchor slipped in lowering over the side, stove in the +boat, and of the four poor fellows who were under it, one was carried +under the ice, and never seen again. This was a sad beginning, and +matters now appeared each moment more threatening. As we still continued +to drift with the current, a bower-anchor was dropped where we were, and +the vessel afterwards swung round, head to wind, while the ice came +crashing upon the cut-water, and on the sides, with a noise that made +all else inaudible. It was found by this time that the water was +shoaling, and this gave new cause for fear; for if the ship were to +touch the ground; it was clear, all chance of saving her was at an end. + +“After a number of different opinions given and canvassed, it was +determined that four men should be sent ashore in the yawl, to find out +some one who knew the pilotage of the bay; for we could descry several +log-huts along the shore, at short distances from each other. With my +officer’s permission, I obtained leave to make one of this party, and I +soon found myself tugging away at the bow-oar through a heavy surf, +whose difficulty was tenfold increased by the fragments of ice that +floated past. After rowing about an hour, the twilight began to fall, +and we could but faintly perceive the outline of the ship, while the +log-huts on shore seemed scarcely nearer than at the moment when we +quitted the vessel. By this time, large fields of ice were about us on +every side; rowing was no longer possible, and we groped along with our +boat-hooks, finding a channel, where we could avoid the floating masses. + +“The peril of this proceeding grew with every moment; sometimes our +frail boat would be struck with such force as threatened to stave in +every plank; sometimes was she driven high upon a piece of ice, which +took all our efforts to extricate her from, while, as we advanced, no +passage presented itself before us, but flake upon flake of frozen +matter, among which were fragments of wrecks, and branches of trees, +mixed up together. The sailors, who had undertaken the enterprise +against their will, now resolved they would venture no further, but make +their way back to the ship while it was yet possible. I alone opposed +this plan--to return, without at least having reached the shore, I told +them, would be a disgrace, the safety of all on board was in a manner +committed to our efforts; and I endeavoured by every argument to induce +them to proceed. To no purpose did I tell them this; of no use was it +that I pointed out the lights on shore, which we could now see moving +from place to place, as though we had been perceived, and that some +preparations were making for our rescue. I was outvoted, however: back +they would go; and one of them as he pushed the boat’s head round, +jeeringly said to me-- + +“‘Why, with such jolly good foot-way, don’t you go yourself? you’ll have +all the honour, you know.’ + +“The taunt stung me to the quick, the more as it called forth a laugh +from the rest. I made no answer, but seizing a boat-hook, sprang over +the side upon a large mass of ice. The action drove the boat from me. I +heard them call to me to come back; but come what would, my mind was +made up. I never turned my head, but with my eyes fixed on the shore- +lights, I dashed on, glad to find that with every stroke of the sea the +ice was borne onwards towards the land. At length the sound of the +breakers ahead, made me fearful of venturing farther; for as the +darkness fell, I had to trust entirely to my hearing as my guide. I +stood then rooted to the spot, and as the wind whistled past, and the +snow-drift was borne in eddying currents by me, I drove my boat-hook +into the ice, and held on firmly by it. Suddenly, through the gloom a +bright flash flared out, and then I could see it flitting along, and at +last, I thought I could mark it, directing its course towards the ship; +I strained my eyes to their utmost, and in an ecstasy of joy I shouted +aloud, as I beheld a canoe manned by Indians, with a pine torch blazing +in the prow. The red light of the burning wood lit up their wild figures +as they came along--now carrying their light bark over the fields of +ice; now launching it into the boiling surf, and thus, alternately +walking, and sailing, they came at a speed almost inconceivable. They +soon heard my shouts, and directed their course to where I stood; but +the excitement of my danger, the dreadful alternations of hope and fear +thus suddenly ceasing, so stunned me that I could not speak, as they +took me in their arms and placed me in the bottom of the canoe. Of our +course back to shore I remember little: the intense cold, added to the +stupefaction of my mind, brought on a state resembling sleep; and even +when they lifted me on land, the drowsy lethargy clung to me; and only +when I found myself beside the blaze of a wood-fire, did my faculties +begin to revive, and, like a seal under the rays of the sun, did I warm +into life, once more. The first thing I did, when morning broke, was to +spring from my resting-place beside the fire, and rush out, to look for +the ship. The sun was shining brilliantly--the bay lay calm as a mirror +before me, reflecting the tall mountains and the taper pines: but the +ship was gone, not a sail appeared in sight; and I now learned, that +when the tide began to make, and she was enabled to float, a land breeze +sprung up which carried her gently out to sea, and that she was in all +likelihood, by that time, some thirty miles in her course up the St. +Lawrence. For a moment, my joy at the deliverance of my companions was +unchecked by any thought of my own desolate condition; the next minute, +I remembered myself, and sat down upon a stone, and gazed out upon the +wide waters with a sad and sinking heart.” + + + +CHAPTER VIII. MR. O’KELLY’S TALE.--CONCLUDED + +“Life had presented too many vicissitudes before me, to make much +difference in my temperament, whatever came uppermost. Like the gambler, +who if he lose to-day, goes off consoling himself, that he may be a +winner to-morrow, I had learned never to feel very acutely any +misfortune, provided only that I could see some prospect of its not +being permanent:--and how many are there who go through the world in +this fashion, getting the credit all the while of being such true +philosophers, so much elevated above the chances and changes of fortune, +and who, after all, only apply to the game of life the same rule of +action they practise at the ‘_rouge et noir_’ table. + +“The worthy folks among whom my lot was now cast, were a tribe of red +men, called the Gaspé Indians, who, among other pastimes peculiar to +themselves, followed the respectable and ancient trade, of wreckers, in +which occupation the months of October and November usually supplied +them with as much as they could do--after that, the ice closed in, on +the bay and no vessel could pass up or down the St. Lawrence, before the +following spring. + +“It was for some time to me a puzzle, how people so completely barbarous +as they were, possessed such comfortable and well-appointed dwellings, +for not only had they log-huts well jointed, and carefully put together, +but many of the comforts of civilized life were to be seen in the +internal decorations. The reason I at length learned, from the chief, in +whose house I dwelt, and with whom I had already succeeded in +establishing a sworn friendship. About fifteen years previous, this bay +was selected by a party of emigrants, as the _locale_ of a settlement. +They had been wrecked on the island of Anticosti themselves, and made +their escape to Gaspé, with such remnants of their effects as they could +rescue from the wreck. There, they built houses for themselves, made +clearings in the forest, and established a little colony, with rules and +regulations for its government. Happily for them, they possessed within +their number almost every description of artificer requisite for such an +undertaking, their original intention being to found a settlement in +Canada, and thus carpenters, shoe-makers, weavers, tailors, mill- +wrights, being all ready to contribute their aid and assistance to each +other, the colony made rapid progress, and soon assumed the appearance +of a thriving and prosperous place. The forest abounded in wild deer and +bears, the bay not less rich in fish, while the ground, which they sowed +with potatoes and Indian-corn, yielded most successful crops, and as the +creek was never visited by sickness, nothing could surpass the success +that waited on their labours. + +“Thus they lived, till in the fall of the year, a detachment of the +Gaspé Indians, who came down every autumn for the herring-fishery, +discovered that their territory was occupied, and that an invading force +were in possession of their hunting-grounds. The result could not be +doubted; the red men returned home to their friends with the news, and +speedily came back again with reinforcements of the whole tribe, and +made an attack on the settlement. The colonists, though not prepared, +soon assembled, and being better armed, for their fire-arms and +cutlasses had all been saved, repelled the assailants, and having killed +and wounded several of them, drove them back into the forest. The +victory, however complete, was the first day of their misfortunes; from +that hour they were never safe; sometimes a marauding party of red men +would dash into the village at nightfall, and carry away some of the +children before their cries could warn their parents. Instead of +venturing as before into the ‘bush’ whenever they pleased, and in small +numbers, they were now obliged to go with the greatest circumspection +and caution, stationing scouts here and there, and, above all, leaving a +strong garrison to protect the settlement against attack in their +absence. Fear and distrust prevailed everywhere, and instead of the +peace and prosperity that attended the first year of their labours, the +land now remained but half tilled; the hunting yielded scarcely any +benefit; and all their efforts were directed to their safety, and their +time consumed in erecting outworks and forts to protect the village. + +“While matters were in this state, a large timber ship, bound for +England, struck on a reef of rocks at the entrance of the bay. The sea +ran high, and a storm of wind from the north-west soon rent her in +fragments. The colonists, who knew every portion of the bay well, put +out, the first moment they could venture, to the wreck, not, however, to +save the lives and rescue the poor fellows who yet clung to the rigging, +but to pillage the ship ere she went to pieces. The expedition succeeded +far beyond their most ardent hopes, and a rich harvest of plunder +resulted from this venture, casks of powder, flour, pork, and rum, were +landed by every tide at their doors, and once more, the sounds of +merriment and rejoicing, were heard in the village. But how different +from before was it! Then, they were happy and contented settlers, living +like one united family in brotherly affection and kind good-will; now, +it was but the bond of crime that bound, and the wild madness of +intoxication, that excited them. Their hunting grounds were no longer +cared for; the fields, with so much labour rescued from the forest, were +neglected; the fishing was abandoned; and a life given up to the most +intemperate abandonment, succeeded to days of peaceful labour and +content. Not satisfied with mere defence, they now carried the war into +the Indian settlements, and cruelties the most frightful ensued in their +savage reprisals. + +“In this dangerous coast a winter never passed without several wrecks +occurring, and as they now practised every device, by false signals and +fires, to lure vessels to their ruin, their infamous traffic succeeded +perfectly, and wrecking became a mode of subsistence, far more plentiful +than their former habits of quiet industry. + +“One long reef of rocks that ran from the most southerly point of the +bay, and called by the Indians ‘the Teeth,’ was the most fatal spot of +the whole coast, for while these rocks stretched for above a mile, to +sea, and were only covered at high water, a strong land current drew +vessels towards them, which, with the wind on shore, it was impossible +to resist. + +“To this fatal spot, each eye was turned at day-break, to see if some +ill-starred vessel had not struck during the night. This, was the last +point each look was bent on, as the darkness was falling; and when the +wind howled, and the sea ran mountains high, and dashed its white foam +over their little huts, then, was every one astir in the village. Many +an anxious gaze pierced through the mist, hoping some white sail might +gleam through the storm, or some bending spar show where a perishing +crew yet cried for help. The little shore would then present a busy +scene, boats were got out, coils of rope, and oars strewed on every +side, lanterns flitted rapidly from place to place. With what energy and +earnestness they moved, how their eyes gleamed with excitement, and how +their voices rung out, in accents of hoarse command. Oh! how horrible to +think that the same features of a manly nature--the bold and daring +courage that fears not the rushing wave, nor the sweeping storm, the +heroic daring that can breast the wild breakers as they splash on the +dark rocks, can arise from impulses so opposite; and that humanity the +fairest, and crime the blackest, have but the same machinery to work +with. + +“It was on a dark November night--the heavy sough of a coming storm sent +large and sullen waves on shore, where they broke with that low hollow +cadence, that seamen recognise as boding ill. A dense, thick fog, +obscured all objects sea-ward, and though many scouts were out upon the +hills, they could detect nothing; still, as the night grew more and more +threatening, the wreckers felt assured a gale was coming, and already +their preparation was made for the approaching time. Hour after hour +passed by, but though the gale increased, and blew with violence on the +shore, nothing could be seen. Towards midnight, however, a scout came in +to say, that he thought he could detect at intervals, through the dense +mist, and spray, a gleaming light in the direction of ‘the Teeth.’ The +drift was too great to make it clearly perceptible, but still, he +persisted he had seen something. + +“A party was soon assembled on the beach, their eyes turned towards the +fatal rocks, which at low water rose some twelve or fifteen feet above +the surface. They gazed long and anxiously, but nothing could they make +out, till, as they were turning away, one cried out, ‘Ay, see there-- +there it is now;’ and as he spoke, a red-forked flame shot up through +the drifting spray, and threw a lurid flash upon the dark sea. It died +away almost as quickly, and though seen at intervals again, it seemed +ever to wax fainter, and fainter. ‘She’s on fire,’ cried one. ‘No, no; +it’s a distress signal,’ said another. ‘One thing is certain,’ cried a +third, ‘the craft that’s on the “Teeth” on such a night as this, won’t +get off very readily; and so, lads, be alive and run out the boats.’ + +“The little colony was soon astir. It was a race of avarice too; for, +latterly, the settlement had been broken up by feuds and jealousies, +into different factions; and each strove to overreach the other. In less +than half an hour, eight boats were out, and breasting the white +breakers, headed out to sea. All, save the old and decrepit, the women, +and children, were away, and even they, stood watching on the shore, +following with their eyes the boats in which they felt most interested. + +“At last they disappeared in the gloom--not a trace could be seen of +them, nor did the wind carry back their voices, over which the raging +storm was now howling. A few still remained straining their eye-balls +towards the spot where the light was seen, the others had returned +towards the village; when all of a sudden a frightful yell, a long +sustained and terrible cry arose from the huts, and the same instant a +blaze burst forth, and rose into a red column towards the sky. The +Indians were upon them. The war shout--that dreadful sound they knew too +well--resounded on every side. Then began a massacre, which nothing in +description can convey. The dreadful rage of the vengeful savage--long +pent up--long provoked--had now its time for vengeance. The tomahawk and +the scalping knife ran red with blood, as women and infants rushed madly +hither and thither in the flight. Old men lay weltering in their gore +beside their daughters, and grandchildren; while the wild red men, +unsated with slaughter, tore the mangled corpses as they lay, and bathed +themselves in blood. But not there did it end. The flame that gleamed +from the ‘Teeth’ rocks, was but an Indian device, to draw the wreckers +out to sea. A pine-wood fire had been lighted on the tallest cliff at +low water, to attract their attention, by some savages in canoes, and +left to burn away slowly during the night. + +“Deceived and baffled, the wreckers made towards shore, to which already +their eyes were turned in terror, for the red blaze of the burning huts +was seen, miles off, in the bay. Scarcely had the first boat neared the +shore, when a volley of fire-arms poured in upon her--while the war-cry +that rose above it, told them their hour was come. The Indians were +several hundred in number, armed to the teeth; the others few, and +without a single weapon. Contest, it was none. The slaughter scarce +lasted many minutes, for ere the flame from the distant rock subsided, +the last white man lay a corpse on the bloody strand. Such was the +terrible retribution that followed on crime, and at the very moment too, +when their cruel hearts were bent on its perpetration. + +“This tale, which was told me in a broken jargon, between Canadian- +French and English, concluded with words, which were not to me, at the +time, the least shocking part of the story; as the narrator, with +glistening eyes, and in a voice whose guttural tones seemed almost too +thick for utterance said, ‘It was I, that planned it!’ + +“You will ask me, by what chance did I escape with life among such a +tribe. An accident--the merest accident--saved me. When a smuggler, as I +have already told you I was, I once, when becalmed in the Bay of Biscay, +got one of the sailors to tattoo my arm with gunpowder, a very common +practice at sea. The operator had been in the North American trade, and +had passed ten years as a prisoner among the Indians, and brought away +with him innumerable recollections of their habits and customs. Among +others, their strange idols had made a great impression on his mind; +and, as I gave him a discretionary power as to the frescos he was to +adorn me with, he painted a most American-looking savage with two faces +on his head--his body all stuck over with arrows and spear-points, while +he, apparently unmoved by such visitors, was skipping about, in +something that might be a war-dance. + +“This, with all its appropriate colours--for as the heraldry folk say, +‘It was proper’--was a very conspicuous object on my arm, and no sooner +seen by the chief, than he immediately knelt down beside me, dressed my +wounds and tended me; while the rest of the tribe, recognising me as one +whose existence was charmed, showed me every manner of respect, and even +devotion. Indeed, I soon felt my popularity to be my greatest +difficulty; for whatever great event was going forward among the tribe, +it became the etiquette to consult me on it, as a species of soothsayer, +and never was a prophet more sorely tested. Sometimes, it was a question +of the whale-fishery--whether ‘bottle noses,’ or ‘sulphur bottoms,’ were +coming up the bay, and whether, in the then season, it was safe, or not, +to strike the ‘calf whales’ first. Now, it was a disputed point as to +the condition of bears; or worse than either, a little marauding party +would be undertaken into a neighbour’s premises, where I was expected to +perform a very leading part, which, not having the same strong +convictions of my invulnerable nature, as my worthy associates, I +undertook with as few feelings of satisfaction as you may imagine. But +these were not all; offers of marriage from many noble families pressed +me on every side; and though polygamy to any extent was permissible, I +never could persuade myself, to make my fortune in this manner. The +ladies too, I am bound to say, were not so seductive as to endanger my +principles: flattened heads, bent-down noses and lip stones, are very +strong antidotes to the tender passion. And I was obliged to declare, +that I was compelled, by a vow, not to marry for three moons. I dared +not venture on a longer period of amnesty, lest I should excite +suspicion of any insult to them, on a point where their vengeance never +forgives; and I hoped, ere that time elapsed, that I should be able to +make my escape--though how, or when, or where to, were points I could +not possibly guess at. + +“Before the half of my probation had expired, we were visited by an old +Indian of a distant tribe--a strange old fellow he was, clothed in +goats’ skins, and wearing strong leather boots and rackets (snow shoes), +a felt hat, and a kind of leather sack strapped on his back, and secured +by a lock. This singular-looking fellow was, ‘the post.’ He travelled +once a year from a small settlement near Miramichi, to Quebec, and back, +carrying the letters to and from these places, a distance of something +like seven hundred miles, which he accomplished entirely on foot, great +part of it through dense forests and over wild uninhabited prairies, +passing through the hunting-grounds of several hostile tribes, fording +rivers and climbing mountains, and all, for the moderate payment of ten +pounds a year, half of which he spent in rum before he left Quebec, and +while waiting for the return mail; and strangest of all, though for +forty years he had continued to perform this journey, not only no +accident had ever occurred to the letters, but he himself was never +known to be behind his appointed time at his destination. + +“‘Tahata,’ for such was his name, was, however, a character of great +interest; even to the barbarous tribes through whose territories he +passed. He was a species of savage newspaper, recounting various details +respecting the hunting and fishing seasons,--the price of skins at +Quebec or Montreal,--what was the peltry most in request, and how it +would bring its best price. Cautiously abstaining from the local +politics of these small states, his information only bore on such topics +as are generally useful and interesting, and never for a moment partook +of any partisan character; besides, he had ever some petty commission or +other, from the squaws, to discharge at Quebec. There was an amber bead, +or a tin ornament, a bit of red ribbon or a glass button, or some such +valuable, everywhere he went; and his coming was an event as much longed +and looked for, as any other that marked their monotonous existence. + +“He rested for a few days at our village, when I learned these few +particulars of his life, and at once resolved, come what might, to make +my escape with him, and, if possible, reach Quebec. An opportunity, +fortunately, soon offered for my doing so with facility. The day of the +courier’s departure was fixed for a great fishing excursion, on which +the tribe were to be absent for several days. Affecting illness, I +remained on shore, and never stirred from the wigwam till the last canoe +had disappeared from sight: then I slowly sauntered out, and telling the +squaws that I would stroll about, for an hour or so, to breathe the air, +I followed the track which was pointed out to me by the courier, who had +departed early on the same morning. Before sunset I came up with my +friend, and with a heart overflowing with delight, sat down to partake +of the little supper he had provided for our first day’s journey; after +that, each day was to take care of itself. + +“Then began a series of adventures, to which all I have hitherto told +you, are, as nothing. It was the wild life of the prairies in +companionship with one, who felt as much at home in the recesses of a +pine forest, as ever I did in the snug corner of mine inn. Now, it was a +night spent under the starry sky, beside some clear river’s bank, where +the fish lay motionless beneath the red glare of our watch-fire; now, we +bivouacked in a gloomy forest, planting stockades around to keep off the +wild beasts; then, we would chance upon some small Indian settlement, +where we were regaled with hospitality, and spent half the night +listening to the low chant of a red man’s song, as he deplored the +downfall of his nation, and the loss of their hunting-grounds. Through +all, my guide preserved the steady equability of one who was travelling +a well-worn path--some notched tree, some small stone heap, some +fissured rock, being his guide through wastes, where, it seemed to me, +no human foot had ever trod. He lightened the road with many a song and +many a story, the latter always displaying some curious trait of his +people, whose high sense of truth and unswerving fidelity to their word, +once pledged, appeared to be an invariable feature in every narrative; +and though he could well account for the feeling that makes a man more +attached to his own nation, he more than once half expressed his +surprise, how, having lived among the simple-minded children of the +forest, I could ever return to the haunts of the plotting, and designing +white men. + +“This story of mine,” continued Mr. O’Kelly, “has somehow spun itself +out far more than I intended. My desire was, to show you briefly, in +what strange and dissimilar situations I have been thrown in life--how, +I have lived among every rank, and class, at home and abroad, in +comparative affluence--in narrow poverty; how, I have looked on, at the +world, in all its gala dress of wealth, and rank, and beauty--of power, +of station, and command of intellect; and how I have seen it poor, and +mean, and naked--the companion of gloomy solitudes, and the denizen of +pathless forests; and yet found the same human passions, the same love, +and hate, the same jealousy, and fear, courage, and daring--the same +desire for power, and the same wish to govern, in the red Indian of the +prairie, as in the starred noble of Europe. The proudest rank of +civilized life has no higher boast, than in the practice of such virtues +as I have seen rife among the wild dwellers in the dark forest. Long +habit of moving thus among my fellow men, has worn off much of that +conventional reverence for class, which forms the standing point of all +our education at home. The tarred and weather-beaten sailor, if he be +but a pleasant fellow, and has seen life, is to me as agreeable a +companion as the greatest admiral that ever trod a quarter-deck. My +delight has been thus, for many a year back, to ramble through the +world, and look on its game, like one who sits before the curtain, and +has no concern with the actors, save, in so far as they amuse him. + +“There is no cynicism in this. No one enjoys life more than I do. Music +is a passion with me--in painting, I take the greatest delight, and +beauty, has still her charm for me. Society, never was a greater +pleasure. Scenery, can give me a sense of happiness, which none but +solitary men ever feel--yet, it is less as one identified with these, +than as a mere spectator. All this is selfish, and egotistical, you will +say--and so it is. But then, think what chance has one like me of any +other pleasure! To how many annoyances should I expose myself, if I +adopted a different career: think of the thousand inquiries, of,--who is +he? what is his family? where did he come from? what are his means? and +all such queries, which would beset me, were I the respectable denizen +of one of your cities. Without some position, some rank, some settled +place in society, you give a man nothing--he can neither have friend, +nor home. Now, I am a wanderer--my choice of life, happily took an +humble turn. I have placed myself in a good situation for seeing the +game--and I am not too fastidious, if I get somewhat crushed by the +company about me. But now, to finish this long story, for I see the day +is breaking, and I must leave Antwerp by ten o’clock. + +“At last, then, we reached Quebec. It was on a bright, clear, frosty day +in December, when all the world was astir--sledges flying here and +there--men slipping along in rackets--women, wrapped up in furs, sitting +snugly in chairs, and pushed along the ice some ten or twelve miles the +hour--all gay, all lively, and all merry-looking--while I and my Indian +friend bustled our way through the crowd towards the post-office. He was +a well-known character, and many a friendly nod, and a knowing shake of +the head welcomed him as he passed along. I, however, was an object of +no common astonishment, even in a town where every variety of costume, +from full dress to almost nakedness, was to be met with daily. Still, +something remained as a novelty, and it would seem I had hit on it. +Imagine, then, an old and ill-used foraging-cap, drawn down over a red +night-cap, from beneath which my hair descended straight, somewhere +about a foot in length--beard and moustaches to match--a red uniform +coat, patched with brown seal-skin, and surmounted by a kind of blanket +of buffalo hide--a pair of wampum shorts, decorated with tin and copper, +after the manner of a marquetrie table--gray stockings, gartered with +fish skin--and moccasins made after the fashion of high-lows, an +invention of my own, which I trust are still known as ‘O’Kellies,’ among +my friends the red men. + +“That I was not an Indian, was sufficiently apparent--if by nothing +else, the gingerly delicacy with which I trod the pavement, after a +promenade of seven hundred miles, would have shown it; and yet there was +an evident reluctance on all sides to acknowledge me as one of +themselves. The crowd that tracked our steps had by this time attracted +the attention of some officers, who stopped to see what was going +forward, when I recognised the major of my own regiment among the +number. I saw, however, that he did not remember me, and hesitated with +myself whether I should return to my old servitude. The thought that no +mode of subsistence was open to me--that I was not exactly prepossessing +enough to make my way in the world by artificial advantages, decided the +question, and I accosted him at once. + +“I will not stop to paint the astonishment of the officer, nor shall I +dwell on the few events which followed the recognition--suffice it to +say, that, the same evening I received my appointment, not as a +sergeant, but as regimental interpreter between our people and the +Indians, with whom we were then in alliance against the Yankees. The +regiment soon left Quebec for Trois Rivières, where my ambassadorial +functions were immediately called into play--not, I am bound to confess, +under such weighty and onerous reponsibilities as I had been led to +suspect would ensue between two powerful nations--but, on matters of +less moment, and fully as much difficulty, viz., the barter of old +regimental coats and caps for bows and arrows; the exchange of rum and +gunpowder for moccasins, and wampum ornaments--in a word, the regulation +of an Anglo-Indian tariff, which accurately defined the value of +everything, from a black fox skin to a pair of old gaiters--from an +Indian tomahawk to a tooth-pick. + +“In addition to these fiscal regulations, I drew up a criminal code-- +which, in simplicity at least, might vie with any known system of +legislation--by which it was clearly laid down, that any unknown +quantity of Indians were only equal to the slightest inconvenience +incurred, or discomfort endured by an English officer; that the +condescension of any intercourse with them, was a circumstance of the +greatest possible value--and its withdrawal the highest punishment. A +few other axioms of the like nature, greatly facilitated all bargains, +and promoted universal good feeling. Occasionally, a knotty point would +arise, which somewhat puzzled me to determine. Now and then, some Indian +prejudice, some superstition of the tribe would oppose a barrier to the +summary process of my cheap justice; but then, a little adroitness and +dexterity could soon reconcile matters--and as I had no fear that my +decisions were to be assumed as precedents, and still less dread of +their being rescinded by a higher court, I cut boldly, and generally +severed the difficulty at a blow. + +“My life was now a pleasant one enough--for our officers treated me on +terms of familiarity, which gradually grew into intimacy, as our +quarters were in remote stations, and as they perceived that I possessed +a certain amount of education--which, it is no flattery to say, exceeded +their own. My old qualities of convivialism, also, gave me considerable +aid; and as I had neither forgotten to compose a song, nor sing it +afterwards, I was rather a piece of good fortune in this solitary and +monotonous state of life. Etiquette prevented my being asked to the +mess, but, most generously, nothing interfered with their coming over to +my wigwam almost every evening, and taking share of a bowl of sangaree, +and a pipe--kindnesses I did my uttermost to repay, by putting in +requisition all the amusing talents I possessed: and certainly, never +did a man endeavour more for great success in life, nor give himself +greater toil, than did I, to make time pass over pleasantly to some +half-dozen silly subalterns, a bloated captain or two, and a plethoric, +old snuff-taking major, that dreamed of nothing but rappee, punch and +promotion. Still, like all men in an ambiguous, or a false position, I +felt flattered by the companionship of people, whom, in my heart, I +thoroughly despised and looked down upon; and felt myself honoured by +the society of the most thick-headed set of noodles ever a man sat down +with--Aye! and laughed at their flat witticisms, and their old stale +jokes--and often threw out hints for _bon mots_, which, if they caught, +I immediately applauded, and went about, saying, did you hear ‘Jones’s +last?’--‘do you know what the major said this morning?’ bless my heart! +what a time it was. Truth will out--the old tuft-hunting leaven was +strong in me, even yet--hardship and roughing had not effaced it from my +disposition--one more lesson was wanting, and I got it. + +“Among my visitors was an old captain of the rough school of military +habit, with all the dry jokes of the recruiting service, and all the +coarseness which a life spent for the most part in remote stations, and +small detachments, is sure to impart. This old fellow, Mat Hubbart, a +well known name in the Glengarries, had the greatest partiality for +practical jokes--and could calculate to a nicety, the precise amount of +a liberty which any man’s rank in the service permitted, without the +risk of being called to account: and the same scale of equivalents, by +which he established the nomenclature for female rank in the army, was +regarded by him as the test for those licences he permitted himself to +take with any man beneath him: and as he spoke of the colonel’s ‘lady,’ +the major’s ‘wife,’ the captain’s ‘woman,’ the lieutenant’s ‘thing’--so +did he graduate his conduct to the husbands--never transgressing for a +moment on the grade, by any undue familiarity, or any unwonted freedom. +With me, of course, his powers were discretionary--or rather, had no +discretion whatever. I was a kind of military outlaw, that any man might +shoot at--and certainly, he spared not his powder in my behalf. + +“Among the few reliques of my Indian life, was a bear-skin cap and hood, +which I prised highly. It was a present from my old guide--his parting +gift--when I put into his hands the last few pieces of silver I +possessed in the world. This was then to me a thing, which, as I had met +with not many kindnesses in the world, I valued at something far beyond +its mere price; and would rather have parted with any, or everything I +possessed, than lose it. Well, one day on my return from a fishing +excursion, as I was passing the door of the mess-room, what should I see +but a poor idiot that frequented the barrack, dressed in my bear-skin. + +“‘Holloa! Rokey,’ said I, ‘where did you get that?’ scarce able to +restrain my temper. + +“‘The captain gave it me,’ said the fellow, touching his cap, with a +grateful look towards the mess-room window, where I saw Captain Hubbart +standing, convulsed with laughter. + +“‘Impossible!’ said I--yet half-fearing the truth of his assertion. ‘The +Captain couldn’t give away what’s mine, and not his.’ + +“‘Yes, but he did though,’ said the fool, ‘and told me, too, he’d make +me the “talk man” with the Indians, if you didn’t behave better in +future.’ + +“I felt my blood boil up as I heard these words. I saw at once that the +joke was intended to insult and offend me; and he probably meant as, a +lesson, for my presumption, a few evenings before, since I had the +folly, in a moment of open-hearted gaiety, to speak of my family, and +perhaps to boast of my having been a gentleman: I hung my head in shame, +and all my presence of mind was too little to allow me to feign a look +of carelessness as I walked by the window: from whence the coarse +laughter of the captain was now heard peal after peal. I shall not tell +you how I suffered when I reached my hut, and what I felt at every +portion of this transaction. One thing forcibly impressed itself on my +mind, that the part I was playing must be an unworthy one, or I had +never incurred such a penalty; that if these men associated with me, it +was on terms which permitted all from them--nothing, in return; and for +a while, I deemed no vengeance enough to satisfy my wounded pride. +Happily for me, my thoughts took another turn, and I saw that the +position in which I had placed myself, invited the insolence it met +with; and that if any man stoop to be kicked in this world, he’ll always +find some kind friend ready to oblige him with the compliment. Had an +equal so treated me, my course had presented no difficulty whatever Now, +what could I do? + +“While I pondered over these things, a corporal came up to say, that a +party of the officers were about to pay me a visit after evening parade, +and hoped I’d have something for supper for them. Such was the general +tone of their invitations, and I had received in my time above a hundred +similar messages, without any other feeling than one of pride, at my +being in a position to have so many distinguished guests. Now, on the +contrary, the announcement was a downright insult: my long sleeping +pride suddenly awakened, I felt all the contumely of my condition; and: +my spirit, sunk for many a day in the slavish observance of a miserable +vanity, rebelled against farther outrage. I muttered a hasty ‘all +right,’ to the soldier, and turned away to meditate on some scheme of +vengeance. + +“Having given directions to my Indian follower, a half-breed fellow of +the most cunning description, to have all ready in the wigwam; I +wandered into the woods. To no use was it that I thought over my +grievance, nothing presented itself in any shape as a vindication of my +wounded feelings--nor could I see how anything short of ridicule could +ensue, from all mention of the transaction. The clanking sound of an +Indian drum broke on my musings, and told me that the party were +assembled; and on my entering the wigwam, I found them all waiting for +me. There were full a dozen; many who had never done me the honour of a +visit previously, came on this occasion to enjoy the laugh at my +expense, the captain’s joke was sure to excite. Husbanding their +resources, they talked only about indifferent matters--the gossip and +chit-chat of the day--but still with such a secret air of something to +come, that even an ignorant observer could notice, that there was in +reserve somewhat that must abide its time for development. By mere +accident, I overheard the captain whisper in reply to a question of one +of the subalterns--‘No! no!--not now--wait, till we have the punch up.’ +I guessed at once that such was the period they proposed to discuss the +joke played off at my cost, and I was right; for no sooner had the large +wooden bowl of sangaree made its appearance, than Hubbart filling his +glass; proposed a bumper to our new ally, Rokey; a cheer drowned half +his speech, which ended in a roar of laughter, as the individual, so +complimented, stood at the door of the wigwam, dressed out in full +costume with my bear-skin. + +“I had just time to whisper a command to my Indian imp, concluding with +an order for another bowl of sangaree, before the burst of merriment had +subsided--a hail-storm of jokes, many, poor enough, but still cause for +laughter, now pelted me on every side. My generosity was lauded, my good +taste extolled, and as many impertinences as could well be offered up to +a man at his own table, went the round of the party. No allusion was +spared either to my humble position as interpreter to the force, or my +former life among the Indians, to furnish food for joke; even my family- +-of whom, as I have mentioned, I foolishly spoke to them lately--they +introduced into their tirade of attack and ridicule, which nothing but a +sense of coming vengeance could hove enabled me to endure. + +“‘Come, come,’ said one, ‘the bowl is empty. I say, O’Kelly, if you wish +us to be agreeable, as I’m certain you find us, will you order a fresh +supply?’ + +“‘Most willingly,’ said I, ‘but there is just enough left in the old +bowl to drink the health of Captain Hubbart, to whom we are certainly +indebted for most of the amusement of the evening. Now, therefore, if +you please, with all the honours, gentlemen--for let me say, in no one +quality has he his superior in the regiment. His wit we can all +appreciate; his ingenuity I can speak to; his generosity--you have +lauded ‘mine’--but think of ‘his.’ As I spoke I pointed to the door, +where my ferocious-looking Indian stood, in all his war-paint, wearing +on his head the full-dress cocked-hat of the captain, while over his +shoulders was thrown his large blue military-cloak, over which, he had +skilfully contrived to make a hasty decoration of brass ornaments, and +wild-birds’ feathers. + +“‘Look there!’ said I, exultingly, as the fellow nodded his plumed-hat +and turned majestically round, to be fully admired. + +“‘Have you dared, sir?’--roared he, frothing with passion and clenching +his fist towards me--but a perfect cheer of laughter overpowered his +words. Many rolled off their seats and lay panting and puffing on the +ground; some, turned away half-suffocated with their struggles, while a +few, more timid than the rest, endeavoured to conceal their feelings, +and seemed half-alarmed at the consequences of my impertinence. When the +mirth had a little subsided, it was remarked, that Hubbart was gone--no +one had seen how or when--but he was no longer among us. + +“‘Come, gentlemen, said I, ‘the new bowl is ready for you, and your +toast is not yet drunk. All going so early? Why, it’s not eleven yet.’ + +“But so it was--the impulse of merriment over--the _esprit du corps_ +came back in all its force, and the man, whose feelings they had not +scrupled to outrage and insult, they turned on, the very moment he had +the courage to assert his honour. One by one passed out--some, with a +cool nod--others, a mere look--many, never even noticed me at all; and +one, the last, I believe, dropping a little behind, whispered as he +went, ‘Sorry for you, faith, but all your own doing, though.’ + +“‘My own doing,’ said I in bitterness, as I sat me down at the door of +the wigwam. ‘My own doing!’ and the words ate into my very heart’s core. +Heaven knows, had any one of them who left me, but turned his head, and +looked at me then, as I sat--my head buried in my hands, my frame +trembling with strong passion---he had formed a most false estimate of +my feelings. In all likelihood, he would have regarded me as a man +sorrowing over a lost position in society--grieved at the mistaken +vanity that made him presume upon those who associated with him by grace +especial, and never, on terms of equality. Nothing in the world was then +farther from my heart: no, my humiliation had another source--my +sorrowing penetrated into a deeper soil. I awoke to the conviction that +my position was such, that even the temporary countenance they gave me +by their society, was to be deemed my greatest honour, as its withdrawal +should be my deepest disgrace--that these poor heartless brainless fools +for whom I taxed my time, my intellect, and my means, were in the light +of patrons to me. Let any man who has felt what it is to live among +those on whose capacity he has looked down, while he has been obliged to +pay homage to their rank--whose society he has frequented, not for +pleasure nor enjoyment--not for the charm of social intercourse, or the +interchange of friendly feeling, but for the mere vulgar object that he +might seem to others to be in a position to which he had no claim--to be +intimate, when he was only endured--to be on terms of ease, when he was +barely admitted; let him sympathise with me. Now, I awoke to the full +knowledge of my state, and saw myself at last in a true light. ‘My own +doing!’ repeated I to myself. Would it had been so many a day since, ere +I lost self-respect--ere I had felt the humiliation I now feel.” + +“‘You are under arrest, sir,’ said the sergeant, as with a party of +soldiers he stood prepared to accompany me to the quarters. “‘Under +arrest! By whose orders?’ + +“‘The colonel’s orders,’ said the man briefly, and in a voice that +showed I was to expect little compassion from one of a class who had +long regarded me as an upstart, giving himself airs unbecoming his +condition. + +“My imprisonment, of which I dared not ask the reason, gave me time to +meditate on my fortunes, and think over the vicisicitudes of my life,-- +to reflect on the errors which had rendered abortive every chance of +success in whatever career I adopted; but, more than all, to consider +how poor were all my hopes of happiness in the road I had chosen, while +I dedicated to the amusement of others, the qualities which, if +cultivated for myself, might be made sources of contentment and +pleasure. If I seem prolix in all this--if I dwell on these memories, it +is, first, because few men may not reap a lesson from considering them; +and again, because on them hinged my whole future life. + +“There, do you see that little drawing yonder? it is a sketch, a mere +sketch I made from recollection, of the room I was confined in. That’s +the St. Lawrence flowing beneath the window, and there, far in the +distance, you see the tall cedars of the opposite bank. On that little +table I laid my head the whole night long; I slept too, and soundly, and +when I awoke the next day I was a changed man. + +“‘You are relieved from arrest,’ said the same sergeant who conducted me +to prison, ‘and the colonel desires to see you on parade.’ + +“As I entered the square, the regiment was formed in line, and the +officers, as usual, stood in a group chatting together in the centre. A +half smile, quickly subdued as I came near, ran along the party. + +“‘O’Kelly,’ said the colonel, ‘I have sent for you to hear a reprimand +which it is fitting you should receive at the head of the regiment, and +which, from my knowledge of you, I have supposed would be the most +effectual punishment I could inflict for your late disrespectful conduct +to Captain Hubbart.’ + +“‘May I ask, colonel, have you heard of the provocation which induced my +offence?’ + +“‘I hope, sir,’ replied he, with a look of stern dignity, ‘you are aware +of the difference of your relative rank and station, and that, in +condescending to associate with you, Captain Hubbart conferred an honour +which doubly compensated for any liberty he was pleased to take. Read +the general order, Lieutenant Wood.’ + +“A confused murmur of something, from which I could collect nothing, +reached me; a vague feeling of weight seemed to press my head, and a +giddiness that made me reel, was on me; and I only knew the ceremony was +over, as I heard the order to march given, and saw the troops begin to +move off the ground. + +“‘A moment, colonel,’ said, I, in a voice that made him start and drew +on me the look of all the others. ‘I have too much respect for you, and +I hope also for myself, to attempt any explanation of a mere jest, where +the consequences have taken a serious turn; besides, I feel conscious of +one fault, far too grave a one, to venture on an excuse for any other I +have been guilty of. I wish to resign my post. I here leave the badge of +the only servitude I ever did, or ever intend to submit to; and now, as +a free man once more, and a gentleman, too, if you’ll permit me, I beg +to wish you adieu: and as for you, captain, I have only to add, that +whenever you feel disposed for a practical joke, or any other +interchange of politeness, Con O’Kelly will be always delighted to meet +your views--the more so as he feels, though you may not believe it, +something still in your debt.’ + +“With that I turned on my heel, and left the barrack-yard, not a word +being spoken by any of the others, nor any evidence of their being so +much amused as they seemed to expect from my exposure. + +“Did it never strike you as a strange thing, that while none but the +very poorest and humblest people can bear to confess to present poverty, +very few men decline to speak of the narrow circumstances they have +struggled through--nay, rather take a kind of pleasure in relating what +difficulties once beset their path--what obstacles were opposed to their +success? The reason perhaps is, there is a reflective merit in thus +surmounting opposition. + +“The acknowledgment implies a sense of triumph. It seams to say--‘Here +am I, such as you see me now, and yet time was, when I was houseless and +friendless--when the clouds darkened around my path, and I saw not even +the faintest glimmer of hope to light up the future; yet with a stout +heart and strong courage, with the will came the way; and I conquered.’ +I do confess, I could dwell, and with great pleasure too, on those +portions of my life when I was poorest and most forsaken, in preference +to the days of my prosperity, and the hours of my greatest wealth: like +the traveller who, after a long journey through some dark winter’s day, +finds himself at the approach of night, seated by the corner of a cheery +fire in his inn; every rushing gust of wind that shakes the building, +every plash of the beating rain against the glass, but adds to this +sense of comfort, and makes him hug himself with satisfaction to think +how he is no longer exposed to such a storm--that his journey is +accomplished--his goal is reached--and as he draws his chair closer to +the blaze, it is the remembrance of the past, gives all the enjoyment to +the present. In the same way, the pleasantest memories of old age are of +those periods in youth when we have been successful over difficulty, and +have won our way through every opposing obstacle. ‘Joy’s memory is +indeed no longer joy.’ Few can look back on happy hours without thinking +of those with whom they spent them, and then comes the sad question, +Where are they now? What man reaches even the middle term of life with a +tithe of the friends he started with in youth; and as they drop off, one +by one around him, comes the sad reflection, that the period is passed +when such ties can be formed anew--The book of the heart once closed, +opens no more. But why these reflections? I must close them, and with +them my story at once. + +“The few pounds I possessed in the world enabled me to reach Quebec, and +take my passage in a timber vessel bound for Cork. Why I returned to +Ireland, and with what intentions, I should be sorely puzzled, were you +to ask of me. Some vague, indistinct feeling of home, connected with my +birthplace had, perhaps, its influence over me. So it was--I did so. + + +[Editor’s Note: Another edition of this book (Downey and Co., 1897) was +scannned for the middle part of this etext as large portions of the +original 1845 edition were defective. The reader will note that the two +editions initiate a quoted passages in different ways: the 1845 edition +with a double quote and the 1897 edition with a single quotation mark.] + +‘After a good voyage of some five weeks, we anchored in Cove, where I +landed, and proceeded on foot to Tralee. It was night when I arrived. A +few faint glimmering lights could be seen here and there from an upper +window; but all the rest was in darkness. Instinctively I wandered on, +till I came to the little street where my aunt had lived. I knew every +stone in it. There was not a house I passed but I was familiar with all +its history. There was Mark Cassidy’s provision store, as he proudly +called a long dark room, the ceiling thickly studded with hams and +bacon, coils of rope, candles, flakes of glue, and loaves of sugar; +while a narrow pathway was eked out below between a sugar-hogshead, some +sacks of flour and potatoes, hemp-seed, tar, and treacle, interspersed +with scythe-blades, reaping-hooks, and sweeping-brushes--a great coffee- +roaster adorning the wall, and forming a conspicuous object for the +wonderment of the country-people, who never could satisfy themselves +whether it was a new-fashioned clock or a weather-glass, or a little +thrashing-machine or a money-box. Next door was Maurice Fitzgerald’s, +the apothecary, a cosy little cell of eight feet by six, where there was +just space left for a long-practised individual to grind with a pestle +without putting his right elbow through a blue-glass bottle that figured +in the front window, or his left into active intercourse with a regiment +of tinctures that stood up, brown and muddy and fetid, on a shelf hard +by. Then came Joe M’Evoy’s, “licensed for spirits and enthertainment,” + where I had often stood as a boy to listen to the pleasant sounds of +Larry Branaghan’s pipes, or to the agreeable ditties of “Adieu, ye +shinin’ daisies, I loved you well and long,” as sung by him, with an +accompaniment. Then there was Misther Moriarty’s, the attorney, a great +man in the petty sessions, a bitter pill for all the country gentlemen; +he was always raking up knotty cases of their decisions, and reporting +them to the _Limerick Vindicator_ under the cognomen of “Brutus” or +“Coriolanus.” I could just see by the faint light that his house had +been raised a storey higher, and little iron balconies, like railings, +stuck to the drawing-room windows. + +‘Next came my aunt’s. There it was: my foot was on the door where I +stood as a child, my little heart wavering between fears of the unknown +world without and hopes of doing something--Heaven knows what!--which +would make me a name hereafter. And there I was now, after years of toil +and peril of every kind, enough to have won me distinction, success +enough to have made me rich, had either been but well directed; and yet +I was poor and humble, as the very hour I quitted that home. I sat down +on the steps, my heart heavy and sad, my limbs tired, and before many +minutes fell fast asleep, and never awoke till the bright sun was +shining gaily on one side of the little street, and already the +preparations for the coming day were going on about me. I started up, +afraid and ashamed of being seen, and turned into the little ale-house +close by, to get my breakfast. Joe himself was not forthcoming; but a +fat, pleasant-looking, yellow-haired fellow, his very image, only some +dozen years younger, was there, bustling about among some pewter quarts +and tin measures, arranging tobacco-pipes, and making up little +pennyworths of tobacco. + +‘“Is your name M’Evoy?” said I. + +‘“The same, at your service,” said he, scarce raising his eyes from his +occupation. + +‘“Not Joe M’Evoy?” + +‘“No, sir, Ned M’Evoy; the old man’s name was Joe.” + +‘“He ‘s dead, then, I suppose?” + +‘“Ay, sir; these eight years come Micklemass. Is it a pint or a naggin +of sperits?” + +‘“Neither; it’s some breakfast, a rasher and a few potatoes, I want +most. I’ll take it here, or in the little room.” + +‘“Faix, ye seem to know the ways of the place,” said he, smiling, as he +saw me deliberately push open a small door, and enter a little parlour +once reserved for favourite visitors. + +‘“It’s many years since I was here before,” said I to the host, as he +stood opposite to me, watching the progress I was making with my +breakfast--“so many that I can scarce remember more than the names of +the people I knew very-well. Is there a Miss O’Kelly living in the town? +It was somewhere near this, her house.” + +‘“Yes, above Mr. Moriarty’s, that’s where she lived; but sure she’s dead +and gone, many a day ago. I mind Father Donnellan, the priest that was +here before Mr. Nolan, saying Masses for her sowl, when I was a slip of +a boy.” + +‘“Dead and gone,” repeated I to myself sadly--for, though I scarcely +expected to meet my poor old relative again, I cherished a kind of half +hope that she might still be living. “And the priest, Father Donnellan, +is he dead too?” + +‘“Yes, sir; he died of the fever, that was so bad four years ago.” + +‘“And Mrs. Brown that kept the post-office?” + +‘“She went away to Ennis when her daughter was married there; I never +heard tell of her since.” + +‘“So that, in fact, there are none of the old inhabitants of the town +remaining. All have died off?” + +“Every one, except the ould captain; he’s the only one left” + +‘“Who is he?” + +‘“Captain Dwyer; maybe you knew him?” + +‘“Yes, I knew him well; and he’s alive? He must be very old by this +time.” + +‘“He ‘s something about eighty-six or seven; but he doesn’t let on to +more nor sixty, I believe; but, sure, talk of----- God preserve us, here +he is!” + +‘As he spoke, a thin, withered-looking old man, bent double with age, +and walking with great difficulty, came to the door, and, in a cracked +voice, called out-- + +‘“Ned M’Evoy; here’s the paper for you; plenty of news in it, too, about +Mister O’Connell and the meetings in Dublin. If Cavanagh takes any fish, +buy a sole or a whiting for me, and send me the paper back.” + +‘“There’s a gentleman, inside here, was just asking for you, sir,” said +the host. + +‘“Who is he? Is it Mr. Creagh? At your service, sir,” said the old man, +sitting down on a chair near me, and looking at me from under the shadow +of his hand spread over his brow. “You ‘re Mr. Studdart, I ‘m thinking?” + +‘“No, sir; I do not suspect you know me; and, indeed, I merely mentioned +your name as one I had heard of many years ago when I was here, but not +as being personally known to you.” + +‘“Oh, troth, and so you might, for I ‘m well known in these parts--eh, +Ned?” said he, with a chuckling cackle, that sounded very like hopeless +dotage. “I was in the army--in the ‘Buffs’; maybe you knew one Clancy +who was in them?” + +‘“No, sir; I have not many military acquaintances. I came here this +morning on my way to Dublin, and thought I would just ask a few +questions about some people I knew a little about. Miss O’Kelly----” + +‘“Ah, dear! Poor Miss Judy--she’s gone these two or three years.” + +‘“Ay, these fifteen,” interposed Ned. + +‘“No, it isn’t though,” said the captain crossly, “it isn’t more than +three at most--cut off in her prime too. She was the last of an old +stock--I knew them all well. There was Dick--blazing Dick O’Kelly, as +they called him--that threw the sheriff into the mill-race at Kilmacud, +and had to go to France afterwards; and there was Peter--Peter got the +property, but he was shot in a duel. Peter had a son--a nice devil he +was too; he was drowned at sea; and except the little girl that has the +school up there, Sally O’Kelly--she is one of them--there’s none to the +fore.” + +‘“And who was she, sir?” + +‘“Sally was--what’s this? Ay, Sally is daughter to a son Dick left in +France. He died in the war in Germany, and left this creature; and Miss +Judy heard of her, and got her over here, just the week she departed +herself. She’s the last of them now--the best family in Kerry--and +keeping a child’s school! Ay, ay, so it is; and there’s property too +coming to her, if they could only prove that chap’s death, Con O’Kelly. +But sure no one knows anything where it happened. Sam Fitzsimon +advertised him in all the papers, but to no use.” + +‘I did not wait for more of the old captain’s reminiscences, but +snatching up my hat I hurried down the street, and in less than an hour +was closeted with Mr. Samuel Fitzsimon, attorney-at-law, and gravely +discussing the steps necessary to be taken for the assumption of my +right to a small property, the remains of my Aunt Judy’s--a few hundred +pounds, renewal fines of lands, that had dropped since my father’s +death. My next visit was to the little school, which was held in the +parlour where poor Aunt Judy used to have her little card parties. The +old stuffed macaw--now from dirt and smoke he might have passed for a +raven--was still over the fireplace, and there was the old miniature of +my father, and on the other side was one which I had not seen before, of +Father Donnellan in full robes. All the little old conchologies were +there too; and except the black plethoric-looking cat that sat staring +fixedly at the fire as if she was grieving over the price of coals, I +missed nothing. Miss Sally was a nice modest-looking woman, with an air +of better class about her than her humble occupation would seem to +imply. I made known my relationship in a few words, and having told her +that I had made all arrangements for settling whatever property I +possessed upon her, and informed her that Mr. Fitzsimon would act as her +guardian, I wished her good-bye and departed. I saw that my life must be +passed in occupation of one kind or other--idleness would never do; and +with the only fifty I reserved to myself of my little fortune, I started +for Paris. What I was to do I had no idea whatever; but I well knew that +you have only to lay the bridle on Fortune’s neck, and you ‘ll seldom be +disappointed in adventures. + +‘For some weeks I strolled about Paris, enjoying myself as thoughtlessly +as though I had no need of any effort to replenish my failing exchequer. +The mere human tide that flowed along the Boulevards and through the gay +gardens of the Tuileries would have been amusement enough for me. Then +there were theatres and cafés and restaurants of every class--from the +costly style of the “Rocher” down to the dinner beside the fountain Des +Innocents, where you feast for four sous, and where the lowest and +poorest class of the capital resorted. Well, well, I might tell you some +strange scenes of those days, but I must hurry on. + +‘In my rambles through Paris, visiting strange and out-of-the-way +places, dining here and supping there, watching life under every aspect +I could behold it, I strolled one evening across the Pont Neuf into the +Ile St. Louis, that quaint old quarter, with its narrow straggling +streets, and its tall gloomy houses, barricaded like fortresses. The old +_portes cochères_ studded with nails and barred with iron, and having +each a small window to peer through at the stranger without, spoke of +days when outrage and attack were rife, and it behoved every man to +fortify his stronghold as best he could. There were now to be found the +most abandoned and desperate of the whole Parisian world; the assassin, +the murderer, the housebreaker, the coiner, found a refuge in this +confused wilderness of gloomy alleys and dark dismal passages. When +night falls, no lantern throws a friendly gleam along the streets; all +is left in perfect darkness, save when the red light of some cabaret +lamp streams across the pavement. In one of these dismal streets I found +myself when night set in, and although I walked on and on, somehow I +never could extricate myself, but continually kept moving in some narrow +circle--so I guessed at least, for I never wandered far from the deep- +toned bell of Notre Dame, that went on chanting its melancholy peal +through the stillness of the night air. I often stopped to listen. Now +it seemed before, now behind me; the rich solemn sound floating through +those cavernous streets had something awfully impressive. The voice that +called to prayer, heard in that gloomy haunt of crime, was indeed a +strange and appalling thing. At last it ceased, and all was still. For +some time I was uncertain how to act. I feared to knock at a door and +ask my way; the very confession of my loneliness would have been an +invitation to outrage, if not murder. No one passed me; the streets +seemed actually deserted. + +‘Fatigued with walking, I sat down on a door-sill and began to consider +what was best to be done, when I heard the sound of heavy feet moving +along towards me, the clattering of sabots on the rough pavement, and +shortly after a man came up, who, I could just distinguish, seemed to be +a labourer. I suffered him to pass me a few paces, and then called out-- + +‘“Halloa, friend! can you tell me the shortest way to the Pont Neuf?” + +‘He replied by some words in a patois so strange I could make nothing of +it. I repeated my question, and endeavoured by signs to express my wish. +By this time he was standing close beside me, and I could mark was +evidently paying full attention to all I said. He looked about him once +or twice, as if in search of some one, and then turning to me said, in a +thick guttural voice-- + +‘“Halte-là, I’ll come”; and with that he moved down in the direction he +originally came from, and I could hear the clatter of his heavy shoes +till the sounds were lost in the winding alleys. + +‘A sudden thought struck me that I had done wrong. The fellow had +evidently some dark intention by his going back, and I repented bitterly +having allowed him to leave me. But then, what were easier for him than +to lead me where he pleased, had I retained him! and so I reflected, +when the noise of many voices speaking in a half-subdued accent came up +the street. I heard the sound, too, of a great many feet. My heart +sickened as the idea of murder, so associated with the place, flashed +across me; and I had just time to squeeze myself within the shelter of +the doorway, when the party came up. + +‘“Somewhere hereabouts, you said, wasn’t it?” said one in a good accent +and a deep clear voice. + +‘“Oui-da!” said the man I had spoken to, while he felt with his hands +upon the walls and doorway of the opposite house. “Halloa there!” he +shouted. + +‘“Be still, you fool! don’t you think that he suspects something by this +time? Did the others go down the Rue des Loups?” + +‘“Yes, yes,” said a voice close to where I stood. + +‘“Then all’s safe; he can’t escape that way. Strike a light, Pierre.” + +‘A tall figure, wrapped up in a cloak, produced a tinder-box, and began +to clink deliberately with a steel and flint. Every flash showed me some +savage-looking face, where crime and famine struggled for mastery; while +I could mark that many had large clubs of wood, and one or two were +armed with swords. I drew my breath with short efforts, and was +preparing myself for the struggle, in which, though I saw death before +me, I resolved to sell life dearly, when a hand was passed across the +pillar of the door, and rested on my leg. For a second it never stirred; +then slowly moved up to my knee, where it stopped again. My heart seemed +to cease its beating; I felt like one around whose body some snake is +coiling, fold after fold, his slimy grasp. The hand was gently +withdrawn, and before I could recover from my surprise I was seized by +the throat and hurled out into the street. A savage laugh rang through +the crowd, and a lantern, just lighted, was held up to my face, while he +who spoke first called out-- + +‘“You didn’t dream of escaping us, _bête_, did you?” ‘At the same moment +hands were thrust into my various pockets; the few silver pieces I +possessed were taken, my watch torn off, my hat examined, and the lining +of my coat ripped open--and all so speedily, that I saw at once I had +fallen into experienced hands. + +‘“Where do you live in Paris?” said the first speaker, still holding the +light to my face, and staring fixedly at me. + +‘“I am a stranger and alone,” said I, for the thought struck me that in +such a circumstance frankness was as good policy as any other. “I came +here to-night to see the cathedral, and lost my way in returning.” + +‘“But where do you live--in what quarter of Paris?” ‘“The Rue d’Alger; +No. 12; the second storey.” ‘“What effects have you there in money?” + ‘“One English bank-note for five pounds; nothing more.” + +‘“Any jewels, or valuables of any kind?” + +‘“None; I am as poor as any man in Paris.” + +‘“Does the porter know your name, in the house?” + +‘“No; I am only known as the Englishman of No. 12.” + +‘“What are your hours--irregular, are they not?” + +‘“Yes, I often come home very late.” + +‘“That’s all right. You speak French well. Can you write it?” + +‘“Yes, sufficiently so for any common purpose.” + +‘“Here, then,” said he, opening a large pocket-book, “write an order, +which I’ll tell you, to the _concierge_ of the house. Take this pen.” + +‘With a trembling hand I took the pen, and waited for his direction. + +‘“Is it a woman keeps the door of your hotel?” + +‘“Yes,” said I. + +‘“Well, then, begin:--” + +‘“Madame La Concierge, let the bearer of this note have the key of my +apartment----” + +‘As I followed with my hand the words, I could mark that one of the +party was whispering in the ear of the speaker, and then moved slowly +round to my back. + +‘“Hush! what’s that?” cried the chief speaker. “Be still there!” and as +we listened, the chorus of a number of voices singing in parts was heard +at some little distance off. + +‘“That infernal nest of fellows must be rooted out of this, one day or +other,” said the chief; “and if I end my days on the Place de Grève, +I’ll try and do it. Hush there! be still! they’re passing on.” + +‘True enough, the sound began to wax fainter, and my heart sank heavily, +as I thought the last hope was leaving me. Suddenly a thought dashed +through my mind--“Death in one shape is as bad as another. I’ll do it!” + I stooped down as if to continue my writing, and then collecting my +strength for the effort, and taking a deep breath, I struck the man in +front a blow with all my might that felled him to the ground, and +clearing him with a spring, I bounded down the street. My old Indian +teaching had done me good service here; few white men could have caught +me in an open plain, with space and sight to guide me, and I gained at +every stride. But, alas! I dared not stop to listen whence the sounds +proceeded, and could only dash straight forward, not knowing where it +might lead me. Down a steep, rugged street, that grew narrower as I +went, I plunged, when--horror of horrors!--I heard the Seine plashing at +the end; the rapid current of the river surged against the heavy timbers +that defended the banks, with a sound like a death-wail. A solitary, +trembling light lay afar off in the river from some barge that was at +anchor there; I fixed my eye upon it, and was preparing for a plunge, +when, with a half-suppressed cry, my pursuers sprang up from a low wharf +I had not seen, below the quay, and stood in front of me. In an instant +they were upon me; a shower of blows fell upon my head and shoulders, +and one, armed with desperate resolution, struck me on the forehead and +felled me on the spot. + +‘“Be quick now, be quick!” said a voice I well knew; “into the river +with him--the filets de St. Cloud will catch him by daybreak--into the +river with him!” + +‘They tore off my coat and shoes, and dragged me along towards the +wharf. My senses were clear, though the blow had deprived me of all the +power to resist, and I could calculate the little chance still left me +when once I had reached the river, when a loud yell and a whistle was +heard afar off--another, louder, followed; the fellows around me sprang +to their legs, and with a muttered curse and a cry of terror darted off +in different directions. I could hear now several pistol-shots following +quickly on one another, and the noise of a scuffle with swords; in an +instant it was over, and a cheer burst forth like a cry of triumph. + +‘“Any one wounded there?” shouted a deep manly voice, from the end of +the street. I endeavoured to call out, but my voice failed me. “Halloa, +there! any one wounded?” said the voice again, when a window was opened +over my head, and a man held a candle out, and looked into the street. + +‘“This way, this way!” said he, as he caught sight of my shadow where I +lay. + +‘“Ay, I guessed they went down here,” said the same voice I heard first, +as he came along, followed by several others. “Well, friend, are you +much hurt? any blood lost?” + +‘“No, only stunned,” said I, “and almost well already.” + +‘“Have you any friends here? Were you quite alone?” + +‘“Yes; quite alone.” + +‘“Of course you were; why should I ask? That murderous gang never dared +to face two men yet. Come, are you able to walk? Oh, you’re a stout +fellow, I see; come along with us. Come, Ludwig, put a hand under him, +and we ‘ll soon bring him up.” + +‘When they lifted me up, the sudden motion caused a weakness so complete +that I fainted, and knew little more of their proceedings till I found +myself lying on a sofa in a large room, where some forty persons were +seated at a long table, most of them smoking from huge pipes of regular +German proportions. + +‘“Where am I?” was my question, as I looked about, and perceived that +the party wore a kind of blue uniform, with fur on the collar and cuffs, +and a greyhound worked in gold on the arm. + +‘“Why, you’re safe, my good friend,” said a friendly voice beside me; +“that’s quite enough to know at present, isn’t it?” + +‘“I begin to agree with you,” said I coolly; and so, turning round on my +side, I closed my eyes, and fell into as pleasant a sleep as ever I +remember in my life. + +‘They were, indeed, a very singular class of restoratives which my kind +friends thought proper to administer to me; nor am I quite sure that a +_bavaroise_ of chocolate dashed with rum, and friction over the face +with hot Eau de Cologne are sufficiently appreciated by the “faculty”; +but this I do know, that I felt very much revived by the application +without and within; and with a face somewhat the colour of a copper +preserving-pan, and far too hot to put anything on, I sat up and looked +about me. A merrier set of gentlemen not even my experience had ever +beheld. They were mostly middle-aged, grizzly-looking fellows, with very +profuse beards and moustaches; their conversation was partly French, +partly German, while here and there a stray Italian diminutive crept in; +and to season the whole, like cayenne in a ragoût, there was an odd +curse in English. Their strange dress, their free-and-easy manner, their +intimacy with one another, and, above all, the _locale_ they had chosen +for their festivities, made me, I own, a little suspicious about their +spotless morality, and I began conjecturing to what possible calling +they might belong--now guessing them smugglers, now police of some kind +or other, now highwaymen outright, but without ever being able to come +to any conclusion that even approached satisfaction. The more I +listened, the more did my puzzle grow on me. That they were either the +most distinguished and exalted individuals or the most confounded story- +tellers was certain. Here was a fat, greasy little fellow, with a beard +like an Armenian, who was talking of a trip he made to Greece with the +Duke of Saxe-Weimar; apparently they were on the best of terms together, +and had a most jolly time of it. There was a large handsome man, with a +short black moustache, describing a night attack made by wolves on the +caravan he was in, during a journey to Siberia. I listened with intense +interest to his narrative; the scenery, the danger, the preparation for +defence, had all those little traits that bespeak truth, when, confound +him! he destroyed the whole as he said, “At that moment the Archduke +Nicholas said to _me_----” The Archduke Nicholas, indeed! very good +that! he’s just as great a liar as the other. + +‘“Come,” thought I, “there’s a respectable-looking old fellow with a +bald head--let us hear him; there’s no boasting of the great people he +ever met with from that one, I’m sure.” + +‘“We were now coming near to Vienna,” continued he, “the night was dark +as pitch, when a vedette came up to say that a party of brigands, well +known thereabouts, were seen hovering about the post station the entire +evening. We were well armed, but still by no means numerous, and it +became a grave question what we were to do. I got down immediately, and +examined the loading and priming of the carbines; they were all right, +nothing had been stirred. ‘What’s the matter?’ said the duke.” (“Oh,” + thought I, “then there’s a duke here also!”) “‘What’s the matter?’ said +the Duke of Wellington.” + +‘“Oh, by Jove! that beats all!” cried I, jumping up on the sofa, and +opening both my hands with astonishment. “I ‘d have wagered a trifle on +that little fellow, and hang me if he isn’t the worst of the whole set!” + +‘“What ‘s the matter; what’s happened?” said they all, turning round in +amazement at my sudden exclamation. “Is the man mad?” + +‘“It’s hard to say,” replied I; “but if I ‘m not, you must be--unless I +have the honour, which is perfectly possible, to be at this moment in +company with the Holy Alliance; for, so help me, since I’ve sat here and +listened to you, there is not a crowned head in Europe, not a queen, not +an archduke, ambassador, and general-in-chief, whom some of you have not +been intimate with; and the small man with a red beard has just let slip +something about the Shah of Persia.” + +‘The torrent of laughter that shook the table never ceased for a full +quarter of an hour. Old and young, smooth and grizzly, they laughed till +their faces were seamed with rivulets like a mountain in winter; and +when they would endeavour to address me, they’d burst out again, as +fresh as ever. + +‘“Come over and join us, worthy friend,” said he who sat at the head of +the board--“you seem well equal to it; and perhaps our character as men +of truth may improve on acquaintance.” + +‘“What, in Heaven’s name, are you?” said I. + +‘Another burst of merriment was the only reply they made me. I never +found much difficulty in making my way in certain classes of society +where the tone was a familiar one. Where a _bon mot_ was good currency +and a joke passed well, there I was at home, and to assume the features +of the party was with me a kind of instinct which I could not avoid; it +cost me neither effort nor strain; I caught up the spirit as a child +catches up an accent, and went the pace as pleasantly as though I had +been bred among them. I was therefore but a short time at table when by +way of matriculation I deemed it necessary to relate a story; and +certainly if they had astounded me by the circumstances of their high +and mighty acquaintances, I did not spare them in my narrative--in which +the Emperor of Japan figured as a very commonplace individual, and the +King of Candia came in, just incidentally, as a rather dubious +acquaintance might do. For a time they listened, like people who are +well accustomed to give and take these kinds of miracle; but when I +mentioned something about a game of leap-frog on the wall of China with +the Celestial himself, a perfect shout of incredulous laughter +interrupted me. + +‘“Well,” said I, “don’t believe me, if you don’t like; but here have I +been the whole evening listening to you, and if I ‘ve not bolted as much +as that, my name’s not Con O’Kelly.” + +‘But it is not necessary to tell you how, step by step, they led me to +credit all they were saying, but actually to tell my own real story to +them--which I did from beginning to end, down to the very moment I sat +down there, with a large glass of hot claret before me, as happy as +might be. + +‘“And you really are so low in purse?” said one. ‘“And have no prospect +of any occupation, nor any idea of a livelihood?” cried another. + +‘“Just as much as I expect promotion from my friend the Emperor of +China,” said I. + +‘“You speak French and German well enough, though?” ‘“And a smattering +of Italian,” said I. ‘“Come, you ‘ll do admirably; be one of us.” + ‘“Might I make bold enough to ask what trade that is?” ‘“You don’t know- +-you can’t guess even?” ‘“Not even guess,” said I, “except you report +for the papers, and come here to make up the news.” + +‘“Something better than that, I hope,” said the man at the head of the +table. “What think you of a life that leads a man about the world from +Norway to Jerusalem; that shows him every land the sun shines on, and +every nation of the globe, travelling with every luxury that can make a +journey easy and a road pleasant; that enables him to visit whatever is +remarkable in every city of the universe--to hear Pasta at St. +Petersburg in the winter, and before the year’s end to see an Indian +war-dance among the red men of the Rocky Mountains; to sit beneath the +shadow of the Pyramids as it were to-day, and ere two months be over to +stand in the spray of Trolhattan, and join a wolf-chase through the +pine-forests of the north. And not only this, but to have opportunities +of seeing life on terms the most intimate, so that society should be +unveiled to an extent that few men of any station can pretend to; to +converse with the greatest and the wisest, the most distinguished in +rank--ay! and better than all, with the most beautiful women of every +land in Europe, who depend on your word, rely on your information, and +permit a degree of intimacy which in their own rank is unattainable; to +improve your mind by knowledge of languages, acquaintance with works of +art, scenery, and more still by habits of intelligence which travelling +bestows.” + +‘“And to do this,” said I, burning with impatience at a picture that +realised all I wished for, “to do this----” + +‘“Be a courier!” said thirty voices in a cheer. “Vive la Grande Route!” + and with the word each man drained his glass to the bottom. + +‘“Vive la Grande Route!” exclaimed I, louder than the rest; “and here I +join you.” + +‘From that hour I entered on a career that each day I follow is becoming +dearer to me. It is true that I sit in the rumble of the carriage, while +_monseigneur_, or my lord, reclines within; but would I exchange his +ennui and depression for my own light-heartedness and jollity? Would I +give up the happy independence of all the intrigue and plotting of the +world I enjoy, for all his rank and station? Does not Mont Blanc look as +grand in his hoary panoply to me as to him; are not the Danube and the +Rhine as fair? If I wander through the gallery of Dresden, have I not +the sweet smile of the great Raphael’s Madonna bent on me, as blandly as +it is on him? Is not mine host, with less of ceremony, far more cordial +to me than to him? Is not mine a rank known and acknowledged in every +town, in every village? Have I not a greeting wherever I pass? Should +sickness overtake me, where have I not a home? Where am I among +strangers? Then, what care I for the bill--mine is a royal route where I +never pay. And, lastly, how often is the _soubrette_ of the rumble as +agreeable a companion as the pale and care-worn lady within? + +‘Such is my life. Many would scoff, and call it menial. Let them, if +they will. I never _felt_ it so; and once more I say, “Vive la Grande +Route!”’ + +‘But your friends of the “Fischer’s Haus”?’ + +‘A jolly set of smugglers, with whom for a month or two in summer I take +a cruise, less for profit than pleasure. The blue water is a necessary +of life to the man that has been some years at sea. My little collection +has been made in my wanderings; and if ever you come to Naples, you must +visit a cottage I have at Castella Mare, where you ‘ll see something +better worth your looking at. And now, though it does not seem very +hospitable, I must say adieu.’ + +With these words Mr. O’Kelly opened a drawer, and drew forth a blue +jacket lined with rich dark fur and slashed with black braiding; a +greyhound was embroidered in gold twist on the arm, and a similar +decoration ornamented the front of his blue-cloth cap. I start for Genoa +in half an hour. We’ll meet again, and often, I hope.’ + +‘Good-bye,’ said I, ‘and a hundred thanks for a pleasant evening, and +one of the strangest stories I ever heard. I half wish I were a younger +man, and I think I ‘d mount the blue jacket too.’ + +‘It would show you some strange scenes,’ said Mr. O’Kelly, while he +continued to equip himself for the road. ‘All I have told is little +compared to what I might tell, were I only to give a few leaves of my +life _en courier_; but, as I said before, we ‘ll live to meet again. Do +you know who my party is this morning?’ + +‘I can’t guess.’ + +‘My old flame, Miss Blundell; she’s married now and has a daughter, so +like what I remember herself once. Well, well, it’s a strange world! +Good-bye.’ + +With that we shook hands for the last time, and parted; and I wandered +back to Antwerp when the sun was rising, to get into a bed and sleep for +the next eight hours. + + + +CHAPTER IX. TABLE-TRAITS + +Morgan O’Dogherty was wrong--and, sooth to say, he was not often so-- +when he pronounced a Mess to be ‘the perfection of dinner society.’ In +the first place, there can be no perfection anywhere or in anything, it +is evident, where ladies are not. Secondly, a number of persons so +purely professional, and therefore so very much alike in their habits, +tone of thinking, and expression, can scarcely be expected to make up +that complex amalgam so indispensable to pleasant society. Lastly, the +very fact of meeting the same people each day, looking the very same way +too, is a sad damper to that flow of spirits which for their free +current demand all the chances and vicissitudes of a fresh audience. In +a word, in the one case a man becomes like a Dutch canal, standing +stagnant and slow between its trim banks; in the other, he is a bounding +rivulet, careering pleasantly through grassy meadows and smiling fields- +-now basking in the gay sunshine, now lingering in the cool shade; at +one moment hurrying along between rocks and moss-grown pebbles, +brawling, breaking, and foaming; at the next, expanding into some little +lake, calm and deep and mirrorlike. + +It is the very chances and changes of conversation, its ups and downs, +its lights and shadows--so like those of life itself--that make its +great charm; and for this, generally, a mixed party gives the only +security. Now, a Mess has very little indeed of this requisite; on the +contrary, its great stronghold is the fact that it offers an easy +tableland for all capacities. It has its little, dry, stale jokes, as +flat and as dull as the orderly book--the regular quiz about Jones’s +whiskers, or Tobin’s horse; the hackneyed stories about Simpson of Ours, +or Nokes of Yours--of which the major is never tired, and the newly- +joined sub is enraptured. Bless their honest hearts! very little fun +goes far in the army; like the regimental allowance of wine, it will +never intoxicate, and no man is expected to call for a fresh supply. + +I have dined at more Messes than any red-coat of them all, at home and +abroad--cavalry, artillery, and infantry, ‘horse, foot, and dragoons,’ +as Grattan has it. In gala parties, with a general and his staff for +guests; after sweltering field-days, where all the claret could not +clear your throat of pipe-clay and contract-powder; in the colonies, +where flannel-jackets were substituted for regulation coats, and land- +crabs and pepper-pot for saddles and sirloins; in Connemara, Calcutta, +or Corfu--it was all the same: _caelum non animum_, etc. Not but that +they had all their little peculiarities among themselves-- so much so, +indeed, that I offer a fifty, that, if you set me down blindfolded at +any Mess in the service, I will tell you what corps they belong to +before the cheese appears; and before the bottle goes half around, I’ll +engage to distinguish the hussars from the heavies, the fusiliers from +the light-bobs; and when the president is ringing for more claret, it +will go hard with me if I don’t make a shrewd guess at the number of the +regiment. + +The great charm of the Mess is to those young, ardent spirits fresh from +Sandhurst or Eton, sick of mathematics and bored with false quantities. +To them the change is indeed a glorious one, and I’d ask nothing better +than to be sixteen, and enjoy it all; but for the old stagers, it is +slow work indeed. A man curls his whiskers at forty with far less +satisfaction than he surveys their growth and development at eighteen; +he tightens his waist, too, at that period, with a very different sense +of enjoyment. His first trip to Jamaica is little more than a ‘lark’; +his fourth or fifth, with a wife and four brats, is scarcely a party of +pleasure--and all these things react on the Mess. Besides, it is against +human nature itself to like the people who rival us; and who could enjoy +the jokes of a man who stands between him and a majority? + +Yet, taking them all in all, the military ‘cut up’ better than any other +professionals. The doctors might be agreeable; they know a vast deal of +life, and in a way too that other people never see it; but meet them _en +masse_, they are little better than body-snatchers. There is not a +malady too dreadful, nor an operation too bloody, to tell you over your +soup; every slice of the turkey suggests an amputation, and they sever a +wing with the anatomical precision they would extirpate a thigh bone. +Life to them has no interest except where it verges on death; and from +habit and hardening, they forget that human suffering has any other +phase than a source of wealth to the medical profession. + +The lawyers are even worse. To listen to them, you would suppose that +the highest order of intellect was a skill in chicanery; that trick and +stratagem were the foremost walks of talent; that to browbeat a poor man +and to confound a simple one were great triumphs of genius; and that the +fairest gift of the human mind was that which enabled a man to feign +every emotion of charity, benevolence, pity, anger, grief, and joy, for +the sum of twenty pounds sterling, wrung from abject poverty and briefed +by an ‘honest attorney.’ + +As to the parsons, I must acquit them honestly of any portion of this +charge. It has been my fortune to ‘assist’ at more than one visitation +dinner, and I can safely aver that never by any accident did the +conversation become professional, nor did I hear a word of piety during +the entertainment. + +Country gentlemen are scarcely professional, however the similarity of +their tastes and occupations might seem to warrant the classification-- +fox-hunting, grouse-shooting, game-preserving, road-jobbing, rent- +extracting, land-tilling, being propensities in common. They are the +slowest of all; and the odds are long against any one keeping awake +after the conversation has taken its steady turn into shorthorns, +Swedish turnips, subsoiling, and southdowns. + +Artists are occasionally well enough, if only for their vanity and self- +conceit. + +Authors are better still, for ditto and ditto. + +Actors are most amusing from the innocent delusion they labour under +that all that goes on in life is unreal, except what takes place in +Covent Garden or Drury Lane. + +In a word, professional cliques are usually detestable, the individuals +who compose them being frequently admirable ingredients, but intolerable +when unmixed; and society, like a _macédoine_, is never so good as when +its details are a little incongruous. + +For my own part, I knew few things better than a table d’hôte, that +pleasant reunion of all nations, from Stockholm to Stamboul; of every +rank, from the grand-duke to the bagman; men and women, or, if you like +the phrase better, ladies and gentlemen--some travelling for pleasure, +some for profit; some on wedding tours, some in the grief of widowhood; +some rattling along the road of life in all the freshness of youth, +health, and well-stored purses, others creeping by the wayside +cautiously and quietly; sedate and sententious English, lively Italians, +plodding Germans, witty Frenchmen, wily Russians, and stupid Belgians-- +all pell-mell, seated side by side, and actually shuffled into momentary +intimacy by soup, fish, fowl, and entremets. The very fact that you are +_en route_ gives a frankness and a freedom to all you say. Your passport +is signed, your carriage packed; to-morrow you will be a hundred miles +away. What matter, then, if the old baron with the white moustache has +smiled at your German, or if the thin-faced lady in the Dunstable bonnet +has frowned at your morality?--you ‘ll never, in all likelihood, meet +either again. You do your best to be agreeable--it is the only +distinction recognised; here are no places of honour, no favoured +guests--each starts fair in the race, and a pleasant course I have +always deemed it. + +Now, let no one, while condemning the vulgarity of this taste of mine-- +for such I anticipate as the ready objection, though the dissentient +should be a tailor from Bond Street or a schoolmistress from Brighton-- +for a moment suppose that I mean to include all tables d’hôte in this +sweeping laudation; far, very far from it. I, Arthur O’Leary, have +travelled some hundreds of thousands of miles in every quarter and +region of the globe, and yet would have considerable difficulty in +enumerating even six such as fairly to warrant the praise I have +pronounced. + +In the first place, the table d’hôte, to possess all the requisites I +desire, should not have its _locale_ in any first-rate city, like Paris, +London, or St. Petersburg; no, it should rather be in Brussels, Dresden, +Munich, Berne, or Florence. Again, it should not be in the great +overgrown mammoth-hotel of the town, with three hundred daily devourers, +and a steam-engine to slice the _bouilli_. It should, and will usually, +be found in some retired and quiet spot--frequently within a small +court, with orange-trees round the walls, and a tiny modest _jet d’eau_ +in the middle; a glass-door entering from a flight of low steps into a +neat ante-chamber, where an attentive but unobtrusive waiter is ready to +take your hat and cane, and, instinctively divining your dinner +intentions, ushers you respectfully into the salon, and leans down your +chair beside the place you select. + +The few guests already arrived have the air of _habitués_; they are +chatting together when you enter, but they conceive it necessary to do +the honours of the place to the stranger, and at once include you in the +conversation; a word or two suffices, and you see that they are not +chance folk, whom hunger has overtaken at the door, but daily visitors, +who know the house and appreciate it. The table itself is far from +large--at most sixteen persons could sit down at it; the usual number is +about twelve or fourteen. There is, if it be summer, a delicious bouquet +in the midst; and the snowy whiteness of the cloth and the clear lustre +of the water strike you instantly. The covers are as bright as when they +left the hands of the silversmith, and the temperature of the room at +once shows that nothing has been neglected that can contribute to the +comfort of the guests. The very plash of the fountain is a grateful +sound, and the long necks of the hock-bottles, reposing in the little +basin, have an air of luxury far from unpleasing. While the champagne +indulges its more southern character in the ice-pails in the shade, a +sweet, faint odour of pineapples and nectarines is diffused about; nor +am I disposed to quarrel with the chance view I catch, between the +orange-trees, of a window where asparagus, game, oranges, and melons are +grouped confusedly together, yet with a harmony of colour and effect +Schneider would have gloried in. There is a noiseless activity about, a +certain air of preparation--not such as by bustle can interfere with the +placid enjoyment you feel, but something which denotes care and skill. +You feel, in fact, that impatience on your part would only militate +against your own interest, and that when the moment arrives for serving, +the potage has then received the last finishing touch of the artist. By +this time the company are assembled; the majority are men, but there are +four or five ladies. They are _en chapeau_ too; but it is a toilette +that shows taste and elegance, and the freshness--that delightful +characteristic of foreign dress--of their light muslin dresses is in +keeping with all about. Then follows that little pleasant bustle of +meeting; the interchange of a number of small courtesies, which cost +little but are very delightful; the news of the theatre for the night; +some soiree, well known, or some promenade, forms the whole--and we are +at table. + +The destiny that made me a traveller has blessed me with either the +contentment of the most simple or the perfect enjoyment of the most +cultivated cuisine; and if I have eaten _tripe de rocher_ with Parry at +the Pole, I have never lost thereby the acme of my relish for truffles +at the ‘Frères.’ Therefore, trust me that in my mention of a table +d’hôte I have not forgotten the most essential of its features--for +this, the smallness and consequent selectness of the party is always a +guarantee. + +Thus, then, you are at table; your napkin is spread, but you see no +soup. The reason is at once evident, and you accept with gratefulness +the little plate of Ostend oysters, each somewhat smaller than a five- +franc piece, that are before you. Who would seek for pearls without when +such treasures are to be found within the shell--cool and juicy and +succulent; suggestive of delights to come, and so suited to the limpid +glass of Chablis. What preparatives for the potage, which already I +perceive to be a _printanière_. + +But why dwell on all this? These memoranda of mine were intended rather +to form a humble companion to some of John Murray’s inestimable +treatises on the road; some stray recollection of what in my rambles had +struck me as worth mention; something that might serve to lighten a +half-hour here or an evening there; some hint for the wanderer of a +hotel or a church or a view or an actor or a poet, a picture or a +_pâte_, for which his halting-place is remarkable, but of whose +existence he knew not. And to come back once more, such a picture as I +have presented is but a weak and imperfect sketch of the Hôtel de France +in Brussels--at least, of what I once remember it. + +Poor Biennais, he was an _artiste!_ He commenced his career under +Chicaud, and rose to the dignity of _rôtisseur_ under Napoleon. With +what enthusiasm he used to speak of his successes during the Empire, +when Bonaparte gave him carte-blanche to compose a dinner for a ‘party +of kings!’ Napoleon himself was but an inferior gastronome. With him, +the great requisite was to serve anywhere and at any moment; and though +the bill of fare was a modest one, it was sometimes a matter of +difficulty to prepare it in the depths of the Black Forest or on the +sandy plains of Prussia, amid the mud-covered fields of Poland or the +snows of Muscovy. A poulet, a cutlet, and a cup of coffee was the whole +affair; but it should be ready as if by magic. Among his followers were +several distinguished gourmets. Cambacérès was well known; Murat also, +and Decrès, the Minister of Marine, kept admirable tables. Of these, +Biennais spoke with ecstasy; he remembered their various tastes, and +would ever remark, when placing some masterpiece of skill before you, +how the King of Naples loved or the arch-chancellor praised it. To him +the overthrow of the empire was but the downfall of the cuisine; and he +saw nothing more affecting in the last days of Fontainebleau than that +the Emperor had left untouched a _fondue_ he had always eaten of with +delight. ‘After that,’ said Biennais, ‘I saw the game was up.’ With the +Hundred Days he was ‘restored,’ like his master; but, alas! the empire +of casseroles was departed; the thunder of the cannon foundries, and the +roar of the shot furnaces were more congenial sounds than the simmering +of sauces and the gentle murmur of a stew-pan. No wonder, thought he, +there should come a Waterloo, when the spirit of the nation had thus +degenerated. Napoleon spent his last days in exile; Biennais took his +departure for Belgium. The park was his Longwood; and, indeed, he +himself saw invariable points of resemblance in the two destinies. +Happily for those who frequented the Hôtel de France, he did not occupy +his remaining years in dictating his memoirs to some Las Casas of the +kitchen, but persevered to the last in the practice of his great art, +and died, so to speak, ladle in hand. + +To me the Hôtel de France has many charms. I remember it, I shall not +say how many years--its cool, delightful salon, looking out upon that +beautiful little park whose shady alleys are such a resource in the +evenings of summer; its lime-trees, beneath which you may sit and sip +your coffee, as you watch the groups that pass and repass before you, +weaving stories to yourself which become thicker and thicker as the +shade deepens, and the flitting shapes are barely seen as they glide +along the silent alleys, while a distant sound of music--some air of the +Fatherland--is all that breaks the stillness, and you forget in the +dreamy silence that you are in the midst of a great city. + +The Hôtel de France has other memories than these, too. I ‘m not sure +that I shall not make a confession, yet somehow I half shrink from it. +You might call it a love adventure, and I should not like that; besides, +there is scarcely a moral in it--though who knows? + + + +CHAPTER X. A DILEMMA + +It was in the month of May--I won’t confess to the year--that I found +myself, after trying various hotels in the Place Royale, at last +deposited at the door of the Hôtel de France. It seemed to me, in my +then ignorance, like a _pis aller_, when the postillion said, ‘Let us +try the “France,”’ and little prepared me for the handsome, but somewhat +small, hotel before me. It was nearly five o’clock when I arrived, and I +had only time to make some slight change in my dress when the bell +sounded for table d’hôte. + +The guests were already seated when I entered, but a place had been +reserved for me, which completed the table. I was a young--perhaps after +reading a little farther you’ll say a _very young_--traveller at the +time, but was soon struck by the quiet and decorous style in which the +dinner was conducted. The servants were prompt, silent, and observant; +the guests, easy and affable; the equipage of the table was even +elegant; and the cookery, Biennais! I was the only Englishman present, +the party being made up of Germans and French; but all spoke together +like acquaintances, and before the dinner had proceeded far were polite +enough to include me in the conversation. + +At the head of the table sat a large and strikingly handsome man, of +about eight-and-thirty or forty years of age--his dress a dark frock, +richly braided, and ornamented by the decorations of several foreign +orders; his forehead high and narrow, the temples strongly indented; his +nose arched and thin, and his upper lip covered by a short black +moustache raised at either extremity and slightly curled, as we see +occasionally in a Van Dyck picture; indeed, his dark-brown features, +somewhat sad in their expression, his rich hazel eyes and long waving +hair, gave him all the character that great artist loved to perpetuate +on his canvas. He spoke seldom, but when he did there was something +indescribably pleasing in the low, mellow tones of his voice; a slight +smile too lit up his features at these times, and his manner had in it-- +I know not what; some strange power it seemed, that made whoever he +addressed feel pleased and flattered by his notice of them, just as we +see a few words spoken by a sovereign caught up and dwelt upon by those +around. + +At his side sat a lady, of whom when I first came into the room I took +little notice; her features seemed pleasing, but no more. But gradually, +as I watched her I was struck by the singular delicacy of traits that +rarely make their impression at first sight. She was about twenty-five, +perhaps twenty-six, but of a character of looks that preserves something +almost childish in their beauty. She was pale, and with brown hair--that +light sunny brown that varies in its hue with every degree of light upon +it; her face was oval and inclined to plumpness; her eyes were large, +full, and lustrous, with an expression of softness and candour that won +on you wonderfully the longer you looked at them; her nose was short, +perhaps faultily so, but beautifully chiselled, and fine as a Greek +statue; her mouth, rather large, displayed, however, two rows of teeth +beautifully regular and of snowy whiteness; while her chin, rounded and +dimpled, glided by an easy transition into a throat large and most +gracefully formed. Her figure, as well as I could judge, was below the +middle size, and inclined to embonpoint; and her dress, denoting some +national peculiarity of which I was ignorant, was a velvet bodice laced +in front and ornamented with small silver buttons, which terminated in a +white muslin skirt; a small cap, something like what Mary Queen of Scots +is usually represented in, sat on the back of her head and fell in deep +lace folds on her shoulders. Lastly, her hands were small, white, and +dimpled, and displayed on her taper and rounded fingers several rings of +apparently great value. + +I have been somewhat lengthy in my description of these two persons, and +can scarcely ask my reader to accompany me round the circle; however, it +is with them principally I have to do. The others at table were +remarkable enough. There was a leading member of the Chamber of +Deputies--an ex-minister--a tall, dark-browed, ill-favoured man, with a +retiring forehead and coal-black eyes; he was a man of great cleverness, +spoke eloquently and well, and was singularly open and frank in giving +his opinion on the politics of the time. There was a German or two, from +the grand-duchy of something--somewhat proud, reserved personages, as +all the Germans of petty states are; they talked little, and were +evidently impressed with the power they possessed of tantalising the +company by not divulging the intention of the Gross Herzog of Hoch +Donnerstadt regarding the present prospects of Europe. There were three +Frenchmen and two French ladies, all pleasant, easy, and affable people; +there was a doctor from Louvain, a shrewd, intelligent man; a Prussian +major and his wife--well-bred, quiet people, and, like all Prussians, +polite without inviting acquaintance. An Austrian secretary of legation, +a wine-merchant from Bordeaux, and a celebrated pianist completed the +party. + +I have now put my readers in possession of information which I only +obtained after some days myself; for though one or other of these +personages was occasionally absent from table d’hôte, I soon perceived +that they were all frequenters of the house, and well known there. + +If the guests were seated at table wherever chance or accident might +place them, I could perceive that a tone of deference was always used to +the tall man, who invariably maintained his place at the head; and an +air of even greater courtesy was assumed towards the lady beside him, +who was his wife. He was always addressed as Monsieur le Comte, and her +title of Countess was never forgotten in speaking to her. During dinner, +whatever little chit-chat or gossip was the talk of the day was +specially offered up to her. The younger guests occasionally ventured to +present a bouquet, and even the rugged minister himself accomplished a +more polite bow in accosting her than he could have summoned up for his +presentation to royalty. To all these little attentions she returned a +smile or a look or a word, or a gesture with her white hand, never +exciting jealousy by any undue degree of favour, and distributing her +honours with the practised equanimity of one accustomed to it. + +Dinner over and coffee, a handsome britzka, drawn by two splendid dark- +bay horses, would drive up, and Madame la Comtesse, conducted to the +carriage by her husband, would receive the homage of the whole party, as +they stood to let her pass. The count would then linger some twenty +minutes or so, and take his leave to wander for an hour about the park, +and afterwards to the theatre, where I used to see him in a private box +with his wife. + +Such was the little party at the ‘France’ when I took up my residence +there in the month of May, and gradually one dropped off after another +as the summer wore on. The Germans went back to sauer kraut and kreutzer +whist; the secretary of legation was on leave; the wine-merchant was off +to St. Petersburg; the pianist was in the bureau he once directed--and +so on, leaving our party reduced to the count and madame, a stray +traveller, a deaf abbé, and myself. + +The dog-days in a Continental city are, every one knows, stupid and +tiresome enough. Every one has taken his departure either to his +château, if he has one, or to the watering-places; the theatre has no +attraction, even if the heat permitted one to visit it; the streets are +empty, parched, and grass-grown; and except the arrival and departure of +that incessant locomotive, John Bull, there is no bustle or stir +anywhere. Hapless, indeed, is the condition then of the man who is +condemned from any accident to toil through this dreary season; to +wander about in solitude the places he has seen filled by pleasant +company; to behold the park and promenades given up to Flemish _bonnes_ +or Norman nurses, where he was wont to glad his eye with the sight of +bright eyes and trim shapes, flitting past in all the tasty elegance of +Parisian toilette; to see the lazy _frotteur_ sleeping away his hours at +the _porte cochere_, which a month before thundered with the deep roll +of equipage coming and going. All this is very sad, and disposes one to +be dull and discontented too. + +For what reason I was detained at Brussels it is unnecessary to inquire. +Some delay in remittances, if I remember aright, had its share in the +cause. Who ever travelled without having cursed his banker or his agent +or his uncle or his guardian, or somebody, in short, who had a deal of +money belonging to him in his hands, and would not send it forward? In +all my long experience of travelling and travellers, I don’t remember +meeting with one person, who, if it were not for such mischances, would +not have been amply supplied with cash. Some with a knowing wink throw +the blame on the ‘Governor’; others, more openly indignant, confound +Coutts and Drummond; a stray Irishman will now and then damn the +‘tenantry that haven’t paid up the last November’; but none, no matter +how much their condition bespeaks that out-at-elbows habit which a ways- +and-means style of life contracts, will ever confess to the fact that +their expectations are as blank as their banker’s book, and that the +only land they are ever to pretend to is a post-obit right in some six- +feet-by-two in a churchyard. And yet the world is full of such people-- +well-informed, pleasant, good-looking folk, who inhabit first-rate +hotels; drink, dine, and dress well; frequent theatres and promenades; +spend their winters at Paris or Florence or Rome, their summers at Baden +or Ems or Interlachen; have a strange half-intimacy with men in the +higher circles, and occasionally dine with them; are never heard of in +any dubious or unsafe affair; are reputed safe fellows to talk to; know +every one, from the horse-dealer who will give credit to the Jew who +will advance cash; and notwithstanding that they neither gamble nor bet +nor speculate, yet contrive to live--ay, and well, too--without any +known resources whatever. If English (and they are for the most part +so), they usually are called by some well-known name of aristocratic +reputation in England: they are thus Villiers or Paget or Seymour or +Percy, which on the Continent is already a kind of half-nobility at +once; and the question which seemingly needs no reply, ‘Ah, vous êtes +parent de milord!’ is a receipt in full rank anywhere. + +These men--and who that knows anything of the Continent has not met such +everywhere--are the great riddles of our century; and I ‘d rather give a +reward for their secret than all the discoveries about perpetual motion, +or longitude, or North-west Passages, that ever were heard of. And +strange it is, too, no one has ever blabbed. Some have emerged from this +misty state to inherit large fortunes and live in the best style; yet I +have never heard of a single man having turned king’s evidence on his +fellows. And yet what a talent theirs must be, let any man confess who +has waited three posts for a remittance without any tidings of its +arrival! Think of the hundred-and-one petty annoyances and ironies to +which he is subject! He fancies that the very waiters know he is _à +sec_; that the landlord looks sour, and the landlady austere; the very +clerk in the post-office appears to say, ‘No letter for you, sir,’ with +a jibing and impertinent tone. From that moment, too, a dozen expensive +tastes that he never dreamed of before enter his head: he wants to +purchase a hack or give a dinner-party or bet at a racecourse, +principally because he has not got a sou in his pocket, and he is afraid +it may be guessed by others--such is the fatal tendency to strive or +pretend to something which has no other value in our eyes than the +effect it may have on our acquaintances, regardless of what sacrifices +it may demand. + +Forgive, I pray, this long digression, which although I hope not without +its advantages would scarcely have been entered into were it not _à +propos_ to myself. And to go back--I began to feel excessively +uncomfortable at the delay of my money. My first care every morning was +to repair to the post-office; sometimes I arrived before it was open, +and had to promenade up and down the gloomy Rue de l’Evecque till the +clock struck; sometimes the mail would be late (a foreign mail is +generally late when the weather is peculiarly fine and the roads good!); +but always the same answer came, ‘Rien pour vous, Monsieur O’Leary’; and +at last I imagined from the way the fellow spoke that he had set the +response to a tune, and sang it. + +Béranger has celebrated in one of his very prettiest lyrics ‘how happy +one is at twenty in a garret.’ I have no doubt, for my part, that the +vicinity of the slates and the poverty of the apartment would have much +contributed to my peace of mind at the time I speak of. The fact of a +magnificently furnished salon, a splendid dinner every day, champagne +and Seltzer promiscuously, cab fares and theatre tickets innumerable +being all scored against me were sad dampers to my happiness; and from +being one of the cheeriest and most light-hearted of fellows, I sank +into a state of fidgety and restless impatience, the nearest thing I +ever remember to low spirits. + +Such was I one day when the post, which I had been watching anxiously +from mid-day, had not arrived at five o’clock. Leaving word with the +commissionaire to wait and report to me at the hotel, I turned back to +the table d’hôte. By accident, the only guests were the count and +madame. There they were, as accurately dressed as ever; so handsome and +so happy-looking; so attached, too, in their manner towards each other-- +that nice balance between affection and courtesy which before the world +is so captivating. Disturbed as were my thoughts, I could not help +feeling struck by their bright and pleasant looks. + +‘Ah, a family party!’ said the count gaily, as I entered, while madame +bestowed on me one of her very sweetest smiles. + +The restraint of strangers removed, they spoke as if I had been an old +friend--chatting away about everything and everybody, in a tone of frank +and easy confidence perfectly delightful; occasionally deigning to ask +if I did not agree with them in their opinions, and seeming to enjoy the +little I ventured to say, with a pleasure I felt to be most flattering. +The count’s quiet and refined manner, the easy flow of his conversation, +replete as it was with information and amusement, formed a most happy +contrast with the brilliant sparkle of madame’s lively sallies; for she +seemed rather disposed to indulge a vein of slight satire, but so +tempered with good feeling and kindliness withal that you would not for +the world forego the pleasure it afforded. Long, long before the dessert +appeared I ceased to think of my letter or my money, and did not +remember that such things as bankers, agents, or stockbrokers were in +the universe. Apparently they had been great travellers: had seen every +city in Europe, and visited every court; knew all the most distinguished +people, and many of the sovereigns intimately; and little stories of +Metternich, _bons mots_ of Talleyrand, anecdotes of Goethe and +Chateaubriand, seasoned the conversation with an interest which to a +young man like myself was all-engrossing. + +Suddenly the door opened, and the commissionaire called out, ‘No letter +for Monsieur O’Leary!’ I immediately became pale and faint; and though +the count was too well bred to take any direct notice of what he saw was +caused by my disappointment, he contrived adroitly to direct some +observation to madame, which relieved me from any burden of the +conversation. + +‘What hour did you order the carriage, Duischka?’ said he. + +‘At half-past six. The forest is so cool that I like to go slowly +through it.’ + +‘That will give us ample time for a walk, too,’ said he; ‘and if +Monsieur O’Leary will join us, the pleasure will be all the greater.’ + +I hesitated, and stammered out an apology about a headache, or something +of the sort. + +‘The drive will be the best thing in the world for you,’ said madame; +‘and the strawberries and cream of Boitsfort will complete the cure.’ + +‘Yes, yes,’ said the count, as I shook my head half sadly, ‘La comtesse +is infallible as a doctor.’ + +‘And, like all the faculty, very angry when her skill is called in +question,’ said she. + +‘Go, then, and find your shawl, madame,’ said he, ‘and, meanwhile, +monsieur and I will discuss our liqueur, and be ready for you.’ + +Madame smiled gaily, as if having carried her point, and left the room. + +The door was scarcely closed when the count drew his chair closer to +mine, and, with a look of kindliness and good-nature I cannot convey, +said, ‘I am going, Monsieur O’Leary, to take a liberty--a very great +liberty indeed--with you, and perhaps you may not forgive it.’ He paused +for a minute or two, as if waiting some intimation on my part. I merely +muttered something intended to express my willingness to accept of what +he hinted, and he resumed: ‘You are a very young man; I not a very old, +but a very experienced one. There are occasions in life in which such +knowledge as I possess of the world and its ways may be of great +service. Now, without for an instant obtruding myself on your +confidence, or inquiring into affairs which are strictly your own, I +wish to say that my advice and counsel, if you need either, are +completely at your service. A few minutes ago I perceived that you were +distressed at hearing there was no letter for you----’ + +‘I know not how to thank you,’ said I, ‘for such kindness as this; and +the best proof of my sincerity is to tell you the position in which I am +placed.’ + +‘One word, first,’ added he, laying his hand gently on my arm--‘one +word. Do you promise to accept of my advice and assistance when you have +revealed the circumstances you allude to? If not, I beg I may not hear +it.’ + +‘Your advice I am most anxious for,’ said I hastily. + +‘The other was an awkward word, and I see that your delicacy has taken +the alarm. But come, it is spoken now, and can’t be recalled. I must +have my way; so go on.’ + +I seized his hand with enthusiasm, and shook it heartily. ‘Yes,’ said I, +‘you shall have your way. I have neither shame nor concealment before +you.’ And then, in as few words as I could explain such tangled and +knotted webs as envelop all matters where legacies and lawyers and +settlements and securities and mortgages enter, I put him in possession +of the fact that I had come abroad with the assurance from my man of +business of a handsome yearly income, to be increased after a time to +something very considerable; that I was now two months in expectation of +remittances, which certain forms in Chancery had delayed and deferred; +and that I watched the post each day with an anxious heart for means to +relieve me from certain trifling debts I had incurred, and enable me to +proceed on my journey. + +The count listened with the most patient attention to my story, only +interfering once or twice when some difficulty demanded explanation, and +then suffering me to proceed to the end. Then leisurely withdrawing a +pocket-book from the breast of his frock, he opened it slowly. + +‘My dear young friend,’ said he, in a measured and almost solemn tone, +‘every hour that a man is in debt is a year spent in slavery. Your +creditor is your master; it matters not whether a kind or a severe one, +the sense of obligation you incur saps the feeling of manly independence +which is the first charm of youth--and, believe me, it is always through +the rents in moral feeling that our happiness oozes out quickest. Here +are five thousand francs; take as much as you want. With a friend, and I +insist upon you believing me to be such, these things have no character +of obligation: I accommodate you to-day; you do the same for me to- +morrow. And now put these notes in your pocket; I see madame is waiting +for us.’ + +For a second or two I felt so overpowered I could not speak. The +generous confidence and friendly interest of one so thoroughly a +stranger were too much for my astonished and gratified mind. At last I +recovered myself enough to reply, and assuring my worthy friend that +when I spoke of my debts they were in reality merely trifling ones; that +I had still ample funds in my banker’s hands for all necessary outlay, +and that by the next post, perhaps, my long-wished-for letter might +arrive. + +‘And if it should not?’ interposed he, smiling. + +‘Why then the next day----’ + +‘And if not then?’ continued he, with a half-quizzing look at my +embarrassment. + +‘Then your five thousand francs shall tremble for it.’ + +‘That’s a hearty fellow!’ cried he, grasping my hand in both of his; +‘and now I feel I was not deceived in you. My first meeting with +Metternich was very like this. I was at Presburg in the year 1804, just +before the campaign of Austerlitz opened--’ + +‘You are indeed most gallant, messieurs,’ said the countess, opening the +door, and peeping in. ‘Am I to suppose that cigars and maraschino are +better company than mine?’ + +We rose at once to make our excuses; and thus I lost the story of Prince +Metternich, in which I already felt an uncommon interest from the +similarity of the adventure to my own, though whether I was to represent +the prince or the count I could not even guess. + +I was soon seated beside the countess in the luxurious britzka; the +count took his place on the box, and away we rattled over the stones +through the Porte de Namur, and along the pretty suburbs of Etterbech, +where we left the highroad, and entered the Bois de Cambre by that long +and beautiful _allée_ which runs on for miles, like some vast aisle in a +Gothic cathedral--the branches above bending into an arched roof, and +the tall beech-stems standing like the pillars. + +The pleasant odour of the forest, the tempered light, the noiseless roll +of the carriage, gave a sense of luxury to the drive I can remember +vividly to this hour. Not that my enjoyment of these things was my only +one; far from it. The pretty countess talked away about everything that +came uppermost, in that strain of spirited and lively chit-chat which +needs not the sweetest voice and the most fascinating look to make it +most captivating. I felt like one in a dream; the whole thing was fairy- +land; and whether I looked into the depths of the leafy wood, where some +horsemen might now and then be seen to pass at a gallop, or my eyes fell +upon that small and faultless foot that rested on the velvet cushion in +the carriage, I could not trust the reality of the scene, and could only +mutter to myself, ‘What hast thou ever done, Arthur O’Leary, or thy +father before thee, to deserve happiness like this?’ + +Dear and kind reader, it may be your fortune to visit Brussels; and +although not exactly under such circumstances as I have mentioned here, +let me advise you, even without a beautiful Polonaise for your +companion, to make a trip to Boitsfort, a small village in the wood of +Soignies. Of course your nationality will lead you to Waterloo; and +equally of course, if you have any tact (which far be it from me not to +suppose you gifted with), you’ll not dine there, the little miserable +cabarets that are called restaurants being wretched beyond description; +you may have a glass of wine--and if so, take champagne, for they cannot +adulterate it--but don’t venture on a dinner, if you hope to enjoy one +again for a week after. Well, then, ‘having done your Waterloo,’ as the +Cockneys say, seen Sergeant Cotton and the church, La Haye Sainte, +Hougomont, and Lord Anglesey’s boot--take your road back, not by that +eternal and noisy _chaussée_ you have come by, but turn off to the +right, as if going to Wavre, and enter the forest by an earth road, +where you’ll neither meet waggons nor postillions nor even a ‘’pike.’ +Your coachman will say, ‘Where to?’ Reply, ‘Boitsfort’--which, for +safety, pronounce ‘Boshfort’--and lie back and enjoy yourself. About six +miles of a delightful drive, all through forest, will bring you to a +small village beside a little lake surrounded by hills, not mountains, +but still waving and broken in outline, and shaded with wood. The red- +tiled roofs, the pointed gables, the green jalousies, and the background +of dark foliage will all remind you of one of Berghem’s pictures; and if +a lazy Fleming or so are seen lounging over the little parapet next the +water, they ‘ll not injure the effect. Passing over the little bridge, +you arrive in front of a long, low, two-storeyed house, perforated by an +arched doorway leading into the court; over the door is an inscription, +which at once denotes the object of the establishment, and you read, +‘Monsieur Dubos fait noces et festins.’ Not that the worthy individual +officiates in any capacity resembling the famed Vulcan of the North: as +far be it from him to invade the prerogative of others as for any to +rival him in his own peculiar walk. No; Monsieur D.’s functions are +limited to those delicate devices which are deemed the suitable diet of +newly-married couples--those _petits plats_ which are, like the orange- +flower, only to be employed on great occasions. And as such he is +unrivalled; for notwithstanding the simple and unpretending exterior, +this little rural tavern can boast the most perfect cook and the best- +stored cellar. Here may be found the earliest turkey of the year, with a +dowry of truffles; here, the first peas of spring, the newest +strawberries and the richest cream, iced champagne and grapy Hermitage, +Steinberger and Johannisberg, are all at your orders. You may dine in +the long salon, _en cabinet_; in the garden, or in the summer-house over +the lake, where the carp is flapping his tail in the clear water, the +twin-brother of him at table. The garden beneath sends up its delicious +odours from beds of every brilliant hue; the sheep are moving homeward +along the distant hills to the tinkle of the faint bell; the plash of an +oar disturbs the calm water as the fisherman skims along the lake, and +the subdued murmurs of the little village all come floating in the air-- +pleasant sounds, and full of home thoughts. Well, well! to be sure I am +a bachelor, and know nothing of such matters; but it strikes me I should +like to be married now and then, and go eat my wedding-dinners at +Boitsfort! And now once more let me come back to my narrative--for +leaving which I should ask your pardon, were it not that the digression +is the best part of the whole, and I should never forgive myself if I +had not told you not to stop at Brussels without dining at Boitsfort. + +When we reached Boitsfort, a waiter conducted us at once to a little +table in the garden where the strawberries and the iced champagne were +in waiting. Here and there, at some distance, were parties of the +Brussels bourgeoisie enjoying themselves at their coffee, or with ice; +while a large salon that occupied one wing of the building was given up +to some English travellers, whose loud speech and boisterous merriment +bespoke them of that class one is always ashamed to meet with out of +England. + +‘Your countrymen are very merry yonder,’ said the countess, as a more +uproarious burst than ever broke from the party. + +‘Yes,’ said the count, perceiving that I felt uncomfortable at the +allusion, ‘Englishmen always carry London about with them wherever they +go. Meet them in the Caucasus, and you’ll find that they’ll have some +imitation of a Blackwall dinner or a Greenwich party.’ + +‘How comes it,’ said I, amazed at the observation, ‘that you know these +places you mention?’ + +‘Oh, my dear sir, I have been very much about the world in my time, and +have always made it my business to see each people in their own peculiar +haunts. If at Vienna, I dine not at the “Wilde Man,” but at the “Puchs” + in the Leopoldstadt. If in Dresden, I spend my evening in the Grün- +Garten, beyond the Elbe. The bourgeoisie alone of any nation preserve +traits marked enough for a stranger’s appreciation; the higher classes +are pretty much alike everywhere, and the nationality of the peasant +takes a narrow range, and offers little to amuse.’ + +‘The count is a quick observer,’ remarked madame, with a look of +pleasure sparkling in her eyes. + +‘I flatter myself,’ rejoined he, ‘I seldom err in my guesses. I knew my +friend here tolerably accurately without an introduction.’ + +There was something so kind in the tone he spoke in that I could have no +doubt of his desire to compliment me. + +‘Independently, too, of speaking most of the languages of Europe, I +possess a kind of knack for learning a patois,’ continued he. ‘At this +instant, I’ll wager a cigar with you that I ‘ll join that little knot of +sober Belgians yonder, and by the magic of a few words of genuine +Brussels French, I’ll pass muster as a Boss.’ + +The countess laughed heartily at the thought, and I joined in her mirth +most readily. + +‘I take the wager,’ cried I--‘and hope sincerely to lose it.’ + +‘Done!’ said he, springing up and putting on his hat, while he made a +short circuit in the garden, and soon afterwards appeared at the table +with the Flemings, asking permission, as it seemed, to light a cigar +from a lantern attached to the tree under which they sat. + +If we were to judge from the merriment of the little group, his success +was perfect, and we soon saw him seated amongst them, busily occupied in +concocting a bowl of flaming _ponche_, of which it was clear by his +manner he had invited the party to partake. + +‘Now Gustav is in his delight,’ said the countess, in a tone of almost +pique; ‘he is a strange creature, and never satisfied if not doing +something other people never think of. In half an hour he’ll be back +here, with the whole history of Mynheer van Houdendrochen and his wife +and their fourteen “mannikins”; all their little absurdities and +prejudices he ‘ll catch up, and for a week to come we shall hear nothing +but Flemish French, and the habitudes of the Montagne de la Cour.’ + +For a few seconds I was vastly uncomfortable; a thought glanced across +me, what if it were for some absurd feature in me, in my manner or my +conversation, that he had deigned to make my acquaintance. Then came the +recollection of his generous proposal, and I saw at once that I was +putting a somewhat high price on my originality, if I valued it at five +thousand francs. + +‘What ails you?’ said the countess, in a low, soft voice, as she lifted +her eyes and let them fall upon me with a most bewitching expression of +interest. ‘I fear you are ill, or in low spirits.’ I endeavoured to +rally and reply, when she went on-- + +‘We must see you oftener. Gustav is so pleasant and so gay, he will be +of great use to you. When he really takes a liking, he is delightful; +and he has in your case, I assure you.’ + +I knew not what to say, nor how to look my gratitude for such a speech, +and could only accomplish some few and broken words of thanks. + +‘Besides, you are about to be a traveller,’ continued she; ‘and who can +give you such valuable information of every country and people as the +count? Do you intend to make a long absence from England?’ + +‘Yes, at least some years. I wish to visit the East.’ ‘You ‘ll go into +Poland?’ said she quickly, without noticing my reply. + +‘Yes, I trust so; Hungary and Poland have both great interest for me.’ + +‘You know that we are Poles, don’t you?’ + +‘Yes.’ + +‘We are both from beyond Varsovie. Gustav was there ten years ago. I +have never seen my native country since I was a child. + +At the last words her voice dropped to a whisper, and she leaned her +head upon her hand, and seemed lost in thought. I did not dare to break +in upon the current of recollections I saw were crowding upon her, and +was silent. She looked up at length, and by the faint light of the moon, +just risen, I saw that her eyes were tearful and her cheeks still wet. + +‘What,’ said I to myself, ‘and has sorrow come even here--here, where I +imagined if ever the sunny path of life existed, it was to be found?’ + +‘Would you like to hear a sad story?’ said she, smiling faintly, with a +look of indefinable sweetness. + +‘If it were yours, it would make my heart ache,’ said I, carried away by +my feelings at the instant. + +‘I ‘ll tell it to you one of these days, then: not now! not now, +though!--I could not here; and there comes Gustav. How he laughs!’ + +And true enough, the merry sounds of his voice were heard through the +garden as he approached; and strangely, too, they seemed to grate and +jar upon my ear, with a very different impression from what before they +brought to me. + +Our way back to Brussels led again through the forest, which now was +wrapped in the shade, save where the moon came peeping down through the +leafy branches, and fell in bright patches on the road beneath. The +countess spoke a little at first, but gradually relapsed into perfect +silence. The stillness and calm about seemed only the more striking from +the hollow tramp of the horses, as they moved along the even turf; the +air was mild and sweet, and loaded with that peculiar fragrance which a +wood exhales after nightfall; and all the influences of the time and +place were of that soothing, lulling kind that wraps the mind in a state +of dreamy reverie. But one thought dwelt within me: it was of her who +sat beside me, her head cast down, and her arms folded. She was unhappy; +some secret sorrow was preying upon that fair bosom, some eating care +corroding her very heart. A vague, shadowy suspicion shot through me +that her husband might have treated her cruelly and ill. But why suspect +this? Was not everything I witnessed the very reverse of such a fact? +What could surpass the mutual kindliness and good feeling that I saw +between them! And yet their dispositions were not at all alike: she +seemed to hint as much. The very waywardness of his temperament; the +incessant demand of his spirit for change, excitement, and occupation-- +how could it harmonise with her gentle and more constant nature? From +such thoughts I was awakened by her saying, in a low faint voice-- + +‘You must forget what I said to-night. There are moments when some +strong impulse will force the heart to declare the long-buried thoughts +of years. Perhaps some secret instinct tells us that we are near to +those who can sympathise and feel for us; perhaps these are the +overflowings of grief, without which the heart would grow full to +bursting. Whatever they be, they seem to calm and soothe us, though +afterwards we may sorrow for having indulged in them. You will forget it +all, won’t you?’ + +‘I will do my best,’ said I timidly, ‘to do all you wish; but I cannot +promise you what may be out of my power. The few words you spoke have +never left my mind since; nor can I say when I shall cease to remember +them.’ + +‘What do you think, Duischka?’ said the count, as he flung away the +fragment of his cigar, and turned round on the box--’ what do you think +of an invitation to dinner I have accepted for Tuesday next?’ + +‘Where, pray?’ said she, with an effort to seem interested. + +‘I am to dine with my worthy friend Van Houdicamp, Rue de Lacken, No. +28. A very high mark, let me tell you; his father was burgomaster at +Alost, and he himself has a great sugar bakery, or salt _raffinerie_, or +something equivalent, at Scharbeck.’ + +‘How can you find any pleasure in such society, Gustav?’ + +‘Pleasure you call it!--delight is the word. I shall hear all the gossip +of the Basse Ville--quite as amusing, I ‘m certain, as of the Place and +the Boulevards. Besides, there are to be some half-dozen _échevins_, +with wives and daughters, and we shall have a round game for the most +patriarchal stakes. I have also obtained permission to bring a friend; +so you see, Monsieur O’Leary----’ + +‘I ‘m certain,’ interposed madame, ‘he has much better taste than to +avail himself of your offer.’ + +‘I ‘ll bet my life on it he ‘ll not refuse.’ + +‘I say he will,’ said the lady. + +‘I ‘ll wager that pearl ring at Mertan’s that if you leave him to +himself he says “Yes.”’ + +‘Agreed,’ said madame; ‘I accept the bet. We Poles are as great gamblers +as yourselves, you see,’ added she, turning to me. ‘Now, monsieur, +decide the question. Will you dine with Van Hottentot on Tuesday next-- +or with me?’ + +The last three words were spoken in so low a tone as made me actually +suspect that my imagination alone had conceived them. + +‘Well,’ cried the count, ‘what say you?’ + +‘I pronounce for the--Hôtel de. France,’ said I, fearing in what words +to accept the invitation of the lady. + +‘Then I have lost my bet,’ said the count, laughing; ‘and, worse still, +have found myself mistaken in my opinion.’ + +‘And I,’ said madame, in a faint whisper, ‘have won mine, and found my +impressions more correct.’ + +Nothing more occurred worth mentioning on our way back; when we reached +the hotel in safety, we separated with many promises to meet early next +day. + +From that hour my intimacy took a form of almost friendship. I visited +the count, or the countess if he was out, every morning; chatted over +the news of the day; made our plans for the evening, either for +Boitsfort or Lacken, or occasionally the _allée verte_ or the theatre, +and sometimes arranged little excursions to Antwerp, Louvain, or Ghent. + +It is indeed a strange thing to think of what slight materials happiness +is made up. The nest that incloses our greatest pleasure is a thing of +straws and feathers, gathered at random or carried towards us by the +winds of fortune. If you were to ask me now what I deemed the most +delightful period of my whole life, I don’t hesitate to say I should +name this. In the first place, I possessed the great requisite of +happiness--every moment of my whole day was occupied; each hour was +chained to its fellow by some slight but invisible link; and whether I +was hammering away at my Polish grammar, or sitting beside the +pianoforte while the countess sang some of her country’s ballads, or +listening to legends of Poland in its times of greatness, or galloping +along at her side through the forest of Soignies, my mind was ever full; +no sense of weariness or ennui ever invaded me, while a consciousness of +a change in myself--I knew not what it was--suggested a feeling of +pleasure and delight I cannot account for or convey. And this, I take +it--though speaking in ignorance and merely from surmise--this, I +suspect, is something like what people in love experience, and what +gives them the ecstasy of the passion. There is sufficient concentration +in the admiration of the loved object to give the mind a decided and +firm purpose, and enough of change in the various devices to win her +praise to impart the charm of novelty. + +Now, for all this, my reader, fair or false as she or he may be, must +not suspect that anything bordering on love was concerned in the present +case. To begin--the countess was married, and I was brought up at an +excellent school at Bangor, where the catechism, Welsh and English, was +flogged into me until every commandment had a separate welt of its own +on my back. No; I had taken the royal road to happiness. I was delighted +without stopping to know why, and enjoyed myself without ever thinking +to inquire wherefore. New sources of information and knowledge were +opened to me by those who possessed vast stores of acquirement; and I +learned how the conversation of gifted and accomplished persons may be +made a great agent in training and forming the mind, if not to the +higher walks of knowledge, at least to those paths in which the greater +part of life is spent, and where it imports each to make the road +agreeable to his fellows. I have said to you I was not in love--how +could I be, under the circumstances?--but still I own that the regular +verbs of the Polish grammar had been but dry work, if it had not been +for certain irregular glances at my pretty mistress; nor could I ever +have seen my way through the difficulties of the declensions if the +light of her eyes had not lit up the page, and her taper finger pointed +out the place. + +And thus two months flew past, during which she never even alluded most +distantly to our conversation in the garden at Boitsfort, nor did I +learn any one particular more of my friends than on the first day of our +meeting. Meanwhile, all ideas of travelling had completely left me; and +although I had now abundant resources in my banker’s hands for all the +purposes of the road, I never once dreamed of leaving a place where I +felt so thoroughly happy. + +Such, then, was our life, when I began to remark a slight change in the +count’s manner--an appearance of gloom and preoccupation, which seemed +to increase each day, and against which he strove, but in vain. It was +clear something had gone wrong with him; but I did not dare to allude +to, much less ask him on the subject. At last, one evening, just as I +was preparing for bed, he entered my dressing-room, and closing the door +cautiously behind him, sat down. I saw that he was dressed as if for the +road, and looking paler and more agitated than usual. + +‘O’Leary,’ said he, in a tremulous voice, ‘I am come to place in your +hands the highest trust a man can repose in another. Am I certain of +your friendship?’ I shook his hand in silence, and he went on. ‘I must +leave Brussels to-night, secretly. A political affair, in which the +peace of Europe is involved, has just come to my knowledge; the +Government here will do their best to detain me; orders are already +given to delay me at the frontier, perhaps send me back to the capital; +in consequence, I must cross the boundary on horseback, and reach Aix- +la-Chapelle by to-morrow evening. Of course, the countess cannot +accompany me.’ He paused for a second. ‘You must be her protector. A +hundred rumours will be afloat the moment they find I have escaped, and +as many reasons for my departure announced in the papers. However, I’m +content if they amuse the public and occupy the police; and meanwhile I +shall obtain time to pass through Prussia unmolested. Before I reach St. +Petersburg, the countess will receive letters from me, and know where to +proceed to; and I count on your friendship to remain here until that +time--a fortnight, three weeks at farthest. If money is any object to +you----’ + +‘Not in the least; I have far more than I want.’ ‘Well, then, may I +conclude that you consent?’ ‘Of course you may,’ said I, overpowered by +a rush of sensations I must leave to my reader to feel, if it has ever +been his lot to be placed in such circumstances, or to imagine if he has +not. + +‘The countess,’ I said, ‘is of course aware----’ + +‘Of everything,’ interrupted he, ‘and bears it all admirably. Much, +however, is attributable to the arrangement with you, which I promised +her was completed even before I asked your consent--such was my +confidence in your friendship.’ + +‘You have not deceived yourself,’ was my reply, while I puzzled my brain +to think how I could repay such proofs of his trust. ‘Is there, then, +anything more,’ said I--‘can you think of nothing else in which I may be +of service?’ + +‘Nothing, dear friend, nothing,’ said he. ‘Probably we shall meet at St. +Petersburg.’ + +‘Yes, yes,’ said I; ‘that is my firm intention.’ + +‘That’s all I could wish for,’ rejoined he. ‘The grand-duke will be +delighted to acknowledge the assistance your friendship has rendered us, +and Potoski’s house will be your own.’ So saying, he embraced me most +affectionately, and departed; while I sat to muse over the singularity +of my position, and to wonder if any other man was ever similarly +situated. + +When I proceeded to pay my respects to the countess the next morning, I +prepared myself to witness a state of great sorrow and depression. How +pleasantly was I disappointed at finding her gay--perhaps gayer than +ever--and evidently enjoying the success of the count’s scheme! + +‘Gustav is at St. Tron by this,’ said she, looking at the map; ‘he ‘ll +reach Liege two hours before the post; fresh horses will then bring him +rapidly to Battiste. Oh, here are the papers; let us see the way his +departure is announced.’ She turned over one journal after another +without finding the wished-for paragraph, until at last, in the corner +of the _Handelsblad_, she came upon the following:-- + +‘Yesterday morning an express reached the minister for the home affairs +that the celebrated _escroc_, the Chevalier Duguet, whose famous forgery +on the Neapolitan bank may be in the memory of our readers, was actually +practising his art under a feigned name in Brussels, where, having +obtained his _entrée_ among some respectable families of the lower town, +he has succeeded in obtaining large sums of money under various +pretences. His skill at play is, they say, the least of his many +accomplishments.’ + +She threw down the paper in a fit of laughter at these words, and called +out, ‘Is it not too absurd? That’s Gustav’s doing; anything for a quiz, +no matter what. He once got himself and Prince Carl of Prussia brought +up before the police for hooting the king.’ + +‘But Duguet,’ said I--‘what has he to do with Duguet?’ + +‘Don’t you see that’s a feigned name,’ replied she--‘assumed by him as +if he had half-a-dozen such? Read on, and you’ll learn it all.’ + +I took the paper, and continued where she ceased reading-- + +‘This Duguet is then, it would appear, identical with a very well-known +Polish Count Czaroviski, who with his lady had been passing some weeks +at the Hôtel de France. The police have, however, received his +_signalement_, and are on his track.’ + +‘But why, in Heaven’s name, should he spread such an odious calumny on +himself?’ said I. + +‘Dear me, how very simple you are! I thought he had told you all. As a +mere _escroc_, money will always bribe the authorities to let him pass; +as a political offender, and as such the importance of his mission would +proclaim him, nothing would induce the officials to further his escape-- +their own heads would pay for it. Once over the frontier, the ruse will +be discovered, the editors obliged to eat their words and be laughed at, +and Gustav receive the Black Eagle for his services. But see, here’s +another.’ + +‘Among the victims at play of the well-known Chevalier Duguet--or, as he +is better known here, the Count Czaroviski--is a simple Englishman, +resident at the Hôtel de France, and from whom it seems he has won every +louis-d’or he possessed in the world. This miserable dupe, whose name is +O’Learie, or O’Leary----’ + +At these words the countess leaned back on the sofa and laughed +immoderately. + +‘Have you, then, suffered so deeply?’ said she, wiping her eyes; ‘has +Gustav really won all your louis-d’ors?’ + +‘This is too bad, far too bad,’ said I; ‘and I really cannot comprehend +how any intrigue could induce him so far to asperse his character in +this manner. I, for my part, can be no party to it.’ + +As I said this, my eyes fell on the latter part of the paragraph, which +ran thus:-- + +‘This poor boy--for we understand he is no more--has been lured to his +ruin by the beauty and attraction of Madame Czaroviski.’ + +I crushed the odious paper without venturing to see more, and tore it in +a thousand pieces; and, not waiting an instant, hurried to my room and +seized a pen. Burning with indignation and rage, I wrote a short note to +the editor, in which I not only contradicted the assertions of his +correspondent, but offered a reward of a hundred louis for the name of +the person who had invented the infamous calumny. + +It was some time before I recovered my composure sufficiently to return +to the countess, whom I now found greatly excited and alarmed at my +sudden departure. She insisted with such eagerness on knowing what I had +done that I was obliged to confess everything, and show her a copy of +the letter I had already despatched to the editor. She grew pale as +death as she read it, flushed deeply, and then became pale again, while +she sank faint and sick into a chair. + +‘This is very noble conduct of yours,’ said she, in a low, hollow voice; +‘but I see where it will lead to. Czaroviski has great and powerful +enemies; they will become yours also.’ + +‘Be it so,’ said I, interrupting her. ‘They have little power to injure +me; let them do their worst.’ + +‘You forget, apparently,’ said she, with a most bewitching smile, ‘that +you are no longer free to dispose of your liberty: that as _my_ +protector you cannot brave dangers and difficulties which may terminate +in a prison.’ ‘What, then, would you have me do?’ ‘Hasten to the editor +at once; erase so much of your letter as refers to the proposed reward. +The information could be of no service to you if obtained--some +_misérable_, perhaps some spy of the police, the slanderer. What could +you gain by his punishment, save publicity? A mere denial of the facts +alleged is quite sufficient; and even that,’ continued she, smiling, +‘how superfluous is it after all! A week--ten days at farthest--and the +whole mystery is unveiled. Not that I would dissuade you from a course I +see your heart is bent upon, and which, after all, is a purely personal +consideration.’ + +‘Yes,’ said I, after a pause, ‘I’ll take your advice; the letter shall +be inserted without the concluding paragraph.’ The calumnious reports on +the count prevented madame dining that day at the table d’hôte; and I +remarked, as I took my place at table, a certain air of constraint and +reserve among the guests, as though my presence had interdicted the +discussion of a topic which occupied all Brussels. Dinner over, I walked +into the park to meditate on the course I should pursue under present +circumstances, and deliberate with myself how far the habits of my +former intimacy with the countess might or might not be admissible +during her husband’s absence. The question was solved for me sooner than +I anticipated, for a waiter overtook me with a short note, written with +a pencil; it ran thus:-- + +‘They play the _Zauberflotte_ to-night at the Opera. I shall go at +eight: perhaps you would like a seat in the carriage? Duischka.’ + +‘Whatever doubts I might have conceived about my conduct, the manner of +the countess at once dispelled them. A tone of perfect ease, and almost +sisterly confidence marked her whole bearing; and while I felt delighted +and fascinated by the freedom of our intercourse, I could not help +thinking how impossible such a line of acting would have been in my own +more rigid country, and to what cruel calumnies and aspersions it would +have subjected her. ‘Truly,’ thought I, ‘if they manage these things--as +Sterne says they do--“better in France,” they also far excel in them in +Poland.’ And so my Polish grammar and the canzonettes and the drives to +Boitsfort all went on as usual, and my dream of happiness, interrupted +for a moment, flowed on again in its former channel with increased +force. + +A fortnight had now elapsed without any letter from the count, save a +few hurried lines written from Magdeburg; and I remarked that the +countess betrayed at times a degree of anxiety and agitation I had not +observed in her before. At last the secret cause came out. We were +sitting together in the park, eating ice after dinner, when she suddenly +rose and prepared to leave the place. + +‘Has anything happened to annoy you?’ said I hurriedly. ‘Why are you +going?’ + +‘I can bear it no longer!’ cried she, as she drew her veil down and +hastened forward, and without speaking another word, continued her way +towards the hotel. On reaching her apartments, she burst into a torrent +of tears, and sobbed most violently. + +‘What is it?’ said I, having followed her, maddened by the sight of such +sorrow. ‘For heaven’s sake tell me! Has any one dared----’ + +‘No, no,’ replied she, wiping the tears away with her handkerchief, +‘nothing of the kind. It is the state of doubt, of trying, harassing +uncertainty I am reduced to here, which is breaking my heart. Don’t you +see that whenever I appear in public, by the air of insufferable +impudence of the men, and the still more insulting looks of the women, +how they dare to think of me? I have borne it as well as I was able +hitherto; I can do so no longer.’ + +‘What!’ cried I impetuously, ‘and shall one dare to----’ + +‘The world will always dare what may be dared in safety,’ interrupted +she, laying her hand on my arm. ‘They know that you could not make a +quarrel on my account without compromising my honour; and such an +occasion to trample on a poor weak woman could not be lost. Well, well; +Gustav may write to-morrow or next day. A little more patience; and it +is the only cure for these evils.’ + +There was a tone of angelic sweetness in her voice as she spoke these +words of resignation, and never did she seem more lovely in my eyes. + +‘Now, then, as I shall not go to the opera, what shall we do to pass the +time? You are tired--I know you are--of Polish melodies and German +ballads. Well, well; then I am. I have told you that we Poles are as +great gamblers as yourselves. What say you to a game at piquet?’ + +‘By all means,’ said I, delighted at the prospect of anything to while +away the hours of her sorrowing. + +‘Then you must teach me,’ rejoined she, laughing, ‘for I don’t know it. +I’m wretchedly stupid about all these things, and never could learn any +game but _écarté_.’ + +‘Then écarté be it,’ said I; and in a few minutes more I had arranged +the little table, and down we sat to our party. + +‘There,’ said she, laughing, and throwing her purse on the table, ‘I can +only afford to lose so much; but you may win all that if you’re +fortunate.’ A rouleau of louis escaped at the instant, and fell about +the table. + +‘Agreed,’ said I, indulging the quiz. ‘I am an inveterate gambler, and +always play high. What shall be our stakes?’ + +‘Fifty, I suppose,’ said she, still laughing: ‘we can increase our bets +afterwards.’ + +After some little badinage, we each placed a double louis-d’or on the +board, and began. For a while the game employed our attention; but +gradually we fell into conversation, the cards gradually dropped +listlessly from our hands, the tricks remained unclaimed, and we could +never decide whose turn it was to deal. + +‘This wearies you, I see,’ said she; ‘perhaps you’d like to stop?’ + +‘By no means,’ said I. ‘I like the game, of all things.’ This I said +rather because I was a considerable winner at the time than from any +other motive; and so we played on till eleven o’clock, at which hour I +usually took my leave, and by which time my gains had increased to some +seventy louis. + +‘Is it not fortunate,’ said she, laughing, ‘that eleven has struck? You +‘d certainly have won all my gold; and now you must leave off in the +midst of your good fortune--and so, _bonsoir, et à revanche_.’ + +Each evening now saw our little party at écarté usurp the place of the +drive and the opera; and though our successes ran occasionally high at +either side, yet on the whole neither was a winner; and we jested about +the impartiality with which fortune treated us both. At last, one +evening, eleven struck when I was a greater winner than ever, and I +thought I saw a little pique in her manner at the enormous run of luck I +had experienced throughout. + +‘Come,’ said she, laughing, ‘you have really wounded a national feeling +in a Polish heart--you have asserted a superiority at a game of skill. I +must beat you;’ and with that she placed five louis on the table. She +lost. Again the same stake followed, and again the same fortune, +notwithstanding that I did all in my power to avoid winning--of course +without exciting her suspicions. + +‘And so,’ said she, as she dealt the cards, ‘Ireland is really so +picturesque as you say?’ + +‘Beautifully so,’ replied I, as, warmed up by a favourite topic, I +launched forth into a description of the mountain scenery of the south +and west. The rich emerald green of the valleys, the wild fantastic +character of the mountains, the changeful skies, were all brought up to +make a picture for her admiration; and she did indeed seem to enjoy it +with the highest zest, only interrupting me in my harangue by the words, +‘Je marque le Roi,’ to which circumstance she directed my attention by a +sweet smile, and a gesture of her taper finger. And thus hour followed +hour; and already the grey dawn was breaking, while I was just beginning +an eloquent description of the Killeries, and the countess suddenly +looking at her watch, cried out-- + +‘How very dreadful! only think of three o’clock!’ + +True enough, it was that hour; and I started up to say good-night, +shocked at myself for so far transgressing, and yet secretly flattered +that my conversational powers had made time slip by uncounted. + +‘And the Irish are really so clever, so gifted as you say?’ said she, as +she held out her hand to wish me good-night. + +‘The most astonishing quickness is theirs,’ replied I, half reluctant to +depart; ‘nothing can equal their intelligence and shrewdness.’ + +‘How charming! Bonsoir,’ said she, and I closed the door. + +What dreams were mine that night! What delightful visions of lake +scenery and Polish countesses, of mountain gorges and blue eyes, of deep +ravines and lovely forms! I thought we were sailing up Lough Corrib; the +moon was up, spangling and flecking the rippling lake; the night was +still and calm, not a sound save the cuckoo being heard to break the +silence. As I listened I started, for I thought, instead of her wonted +note, her cry was ever, ‘Je marque le Roi.’ + +Morning came at last; but I could not awake, and endeavoured to sink +back into the pleasant realm of dreams, from which daylight disturbed +me. It was noon when at length I succeeded in awaking perfectly. + +‘A note for monsieur,’ said a waiter, as he stood beside the bed. + +I took it eagerly. It was from the countess; its contents were these:-- + + +‘My dear Sir,--A hasty summons from Count Czaroviski has compelled me to +leave Brussels without wishing you good-bye, and thanking you for all +your polite attentions. Pray accept these hurried acknowledgments, and +my regret that circumstances do not enable me to visit Ireland, in +which, from your description, I must ever feel the deepest interest. + +‘The count sends his most affectionate greetings.--Yours ever sincerely, + +‘Duischka Czaroviski née Gutzaff.’ + +‘And is she gone?’ said I, starting up in a state of frenzy. + +‘Yes, sir; she started at ten o’clock.’ + +‘By what road?’ cried I, determined to follow her on the instant. + +‘Louvain was the first stage.’ + +In an instant I was up, and dressed; in ten minutes more I was rattling +over the stones to my banker’s. + +‘I want three hundred napoleons at once,’ said I to the clerk. + +‘Examine Mr. O’Leary’s account,’ was the dry reply of the functionary. + +‘Overdrawn by fifteen hundred francs,’ said the other. + +‘Overdrawn? Impossible!’ cried I, thunderstruck. ‘I had a credit for six +hundred pounds.’ + +‘Which you drew out by cheque this morning,’ said the clerk. ‘Is not +that your handwriting?’ + +‘It is,’ said I faintly, as I recognised my own scrawl, dated the +evening before. + +I had lost above seven hundred, and had not a sou left to pay post- +horses. + +I sauntered back sadly to the ‘France,’ a sadder man than ever in my +life before. A thousand tormenting thoughts were in my brain; and a +feeling of contempt for myself, somehow, occupied a very prominent +place. Well, well; it’s all past and gone now, and I must not awaken +buried griefs. + +I never saw the count and countess again; and though I have since that +been in St. Petersburg, the grand-duke seems to have forgotten my +services, and a very pompous-looking porter in a bear-skin did not look +exactly the kind of person to whom I should wish to communicate my +impression about ‘Count Potoski’s house being my own.’ + + + +CHAPTER XI, A FRAGMENT OF FOREST LIFE + +I am half sorry already that I have told that little story of myself. +Somehow the recollection is painful. And now I would rather hasten away +from Brussels, and wander on to other scenes; and yet there are many +things I fain would speak of, and some people, too, worth a mention in +passing. I should like to have taken you a moonlight walk through the +Grande Place, and after tracing against the clear sky the delicate +outline of the beautiful spire, whose gilded point seemed stretching +away towards the bright star above it, to have shown you the interior of +a Flemish club in the old Salle de Loyauté. Primitive, quaint fellows +they are, these Flemings; consequential, sedate, self-satisfied, simple +creatures; credulous to any extent of their own importance, but kindly +withal; not hospitable themselves, but admirers of the virtue in others; +easily pleased, when the amusement costs little; and, in a word, a +people admirably adapted by nature to become a kind of territorial +coinage alternately paid over by one great State to another, as the +balance of Europe inclines to this side or that; with industry enough +always to be worth robbing, and with a territory perfectly suitable to +pitched battles--two admirable reasons for Belgium being a species of +Houns-low Heath or Wormwood Scrubs, as the nations of the Continent feel +disposed for theft or fighting. It was a cruel joke, however, to make +them into a nation. One gets tired of laughing at them at last; and even +Sancho’s Island of Barataria had become a nuisance, were it long-lived. + +Well, I must hasten away now. I can’t go back to the ‘France’ yet +awhile, so I’ll even take to the road. But what road? that’s the +question. What a luxury it would be, to be sure, to have some person of +exquisite taste, who could order dinner every day in the year, arranging +the carte by a physiognomical study of your countenance, and plan out +your route by some innate sense of your desires. Arthur O’Leary has none +such, however, his whole philosophy in life being to throw the reins on +the hack Fortune’s neck, and let the jade take her own way. Not that he +has had any reason to regret his mode of travel. No: his nag has carried +him pleasantly on through life, now cantering softly over the even turf, +now picking her way more cautiously among bad ground and broken pebbles; +and if here and there an occasional side leap or a start has put him out +of saddle, it has scarcely put him out of temper; for one great secret +has he at least learned--and, after all, it’s one worth remembering-- +very few of the happiest events and pleasantest circumstances in our +lives have not their origin in some incident, which, had we been able, +we had prevented happening. So then, while taking your mare Chance over +a stiff country, be advised by me: give her plenty of head, sit close, +and when you come to a ‘rasper,’ let her take her own way over it. So +convinced am I of the truth of this axiom, that I should not die easy if +I had not told it. And now, if anything should prevent these Fragments +being printed, I leave a clause in my will to provide for three O’Leary +treatises, to establish this fact being written, for which my executors +are empowered to pay five pounds sterling for each. Why, were it not for +this, I had been married, say at the least some fourteen times, in +various quarters of the globe, and might have had a family of children, +black and white, sufficient to make a set of chessmen among then. +There’s no saying what might have happened to me. It would seem like +boasting, if I said that the Emperor of Austria had some notions of +getting rid of Metternich to give me the ‘Foreign Affairs,’ and that I +narrowly escaped once commanding the Russian fleet in the Baltic. But of +these at another time. I only wish to keep the principle at present in +view, that Fortune will always do better for us than we could do for +ourselves; but to this end there must be no tampering or meddling on our +part. The goddess is not a West-End physician, who, provided you are +ever prepared with your fee, blandly permits you all the little excesses +you are bent on. No: she is of the Abernethy school, somewhat rough +occasionally, but always honest; never suffering any interference from +the patient, but exacting implicit faith and perfect obedience. As for +me, I follow the regimen prescribed for me, without a thought of +opposition; and wherever I find myself in this world, be it China or the +Caucasus, Ghuznee, Genoa, or Glasnevin, I feel for the time that’s my +fitting place, and endeavour to make the best of it. + +The pedestrian alone, of all travellers, is thus taken by the hand by +Fortune. Your extra post, with a courier on the box, interferes sadly +with the current of all those little incidents of the road which are +ever happening to him who takes to the ‘byways’ of the world. The odds +are about one hundred to one against you that, when seated in your +carriage, the postillion in his saddle and the fat courier outside, the +words _en route_ being given, you arrive at your destination that +evening, without any accident or adventure whatever of more consequence +than a lost shoe from the near leader, a snapped spring, or a heartburn +from the glass of bad brandy you took at the third stage. A blue post +with white stripes on it tells you that you are in Prussia; or a yellow- +and-brown pole, that the Grand-Duke of Nassau is giving you the +hospitality of his territory--save which you have no other evidence of +change. The village inn, and its little circle of celebrities, opens not +to _you_ those peeps at humble life so indicative of national character: +_you_ stop not at the wayside chapel in the sultry heat of noon to charm +away your peaceful hour of reflection, now turning from the lovely +Madonna above the altar to the peasant girl who kneels in supplication +beneath, now contrasting the stern features of some painted martyr with +the wrinkled front and weather-beaten traits of some white-haired +beggar, now musing over the quiet existence of the humble figure whose +heavy sabots wake the echoes of the vaulted aisle, or watching, perhaps, +that venerable priest who glides about before the altar in his white +robes, and disappears by some unseen door, seeming like a phantom of the +place. The little relics of village devotion, so touching in their +poverty, awake no thought within _you_ of the pious souls in yonder +hamlet. The old curé himself, as he jogs along on his ambling pony, +suggests nothing save the figure of age and decrepitude. _You_ have not +seen the sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks of his humble flock, who +salute him as he passes, nor gazed upon that broad high forehead, where +benevolence and charity have fixed their dwelling. The foot-sore veteran +or the young conscript have not been your fellow-travellers; mayhap you +would despise them. Their joys and sorrows, their hopes, their fears, +their wishes, all move in a humble sphere, and little suit the ears of +those whose fortune is a higher one. + +Not that the staff and the knapsack are the passports to only such as +these. My experience would tell very differently. With some of the most +remarkable men I ever met, my acquaintance grew on the road; some of the +very pleasantest moments of my life had their origin in the chances of +the wayside; the little glimpses I have ever enjoyed of national +character have been owing to these same accidents; and I have often +hailed some casual interruption to my route, some passing obstacle to my +journey, as the source of an adventure which might afford me the +greatest pleasure. I date this feeling to a good number of years back, +and in a great measure to an incident that occurred to me when first +wandering in this country. It is scarcely a story, but as illustrating +my position I will tell it. + +Soon after my Polish adventure--I scarcely like to be more particular in +my designation of it--I received a small remittance from England, and +started for Namur. My Uncle Toby’s recollections had been an inducement +for the journey, had I not the more pleasant one in my wish to see the +Meuse, of whose scenery I had already heard so much. + +The season was a delightful one--the beginning of autumn; and truly the +country far surpassed all my anticipations. The road to Dinant led along +by the river, the clear stream rippling at one side; at the other, the +massive granite rocks, rising to several hundred feet, frowned above +you; some gnarled oak or hardy ash, clung to the steep cliffs, and hung +their drooping leaves above your head. On the opposite bank of the +river, meadows of emerald green, intersected with ash rows and tall +poplars, stretched away to the background of dense forest that bounded +the view to the very horizon. Here and there a little farmhouse, framed +in wood and painted in many a gaudy colour, would peep from the little +inclosure of vines and plum-trees; more rarely still, the pointed roof +and turreted gable of a venerable chateau would rise above the trees. + +How often did I stop to gaze on these quaint old edifices, with their +balustrades and terraces, on which a solitary peacock walked proudly to +and fro--the only sound that stirred being the hissing plash of the _jet +d’ eau_, whose sparkling drops came pattering on the broad water-lilies. +And as I looked, I wondered within myself what kind of life they led who +dwelt there. The windows were open to the ground, bouquets of rich +flowers stood on the little tables. These were all signs of habitation, +yet no one moved about, no stir or bustle denoted that there were +dwellers within. How different from the country life of our great houses +in England, with trains of servants and equipages hurrying hither and +thither--all the wealth and magnificence of the great capital +transported to some far-off county, that ennui and fastidiousness, +fatigue, and lassitude, should lose none of their habitual aids! Well, +for _my_ part, the life among green trees and flowers, where the thrush +sings, and the bee goes humming by, can scarcely be too homely for _my_ +taste. It is in the peaceful aspect of all Nature, the sense of calm +that breathes from every leafy grove and rippling stream, that I feel +the soothing influence of the country. I could sit beside the trickling +stream of water, clear but brown, that comes drop by drop from some +fissure in the rocky cliff and falls into the little well below, and +dream away for hours. These slight and simple sounds that break the +silence of the calm air are all fraught with pleasant thoughts; the +unbroken stillness of a prairie is the most awful thing in all Nature. + +Unoppressed in heart, I took my way along the river’s bank, my mind +revolving the quiet, pleasant thoughts that silence and lovely scenery +are so sure to suggest. Towards noon I sat myself down on a large flat +rock beside the stream, and proceeded to make my humble breakfast--some +bread and a few cresses, washed down with a little water scarce +flavoured with brandy, followed by my pipe; and I lay watching the white +bubbles that flowed by me, until I began to fancy I could read a moral +lesson in their course. Here was a great swollen fellow, rotund and +full, elbowing out of his way all his lesser brethren, jostling and +pushing aside each he met with; but at last bursting from very plethora, +and disappearing as though he had never been. There were a myriad of +little bead-like specks, floating past noiselessly, and yet having their +own goal and destination; some uniting with others, grew stronger and +hardier, and braved the current with bolder fortune, while others +vanished ere you could see them well. A low murmuring plash against the +reeds beneath the rock drew my attention to the place, and I perceived +that a little boat, like a canoe, was fastened by a hay-rope to the +bank, and surged with each motion of the stream against the weeds. I +looked about to see the owner, but no one could I detect; not a living +thing seemed near, nor even a habitation of any kind. The sun at that +moment shone strongly out, lighting up all the rich landscape on the +opposite side of the river, and throwing long gleams into a dense beech- +wood, where a dark, grass-grown alley entered. Suddenly the desire +seized me to enter the forest by that shady path. I strapped on my +knapsack at once, and stepped into the little boat. There was neither +oar nor paddle, but as the river was shallow, my long staff served as a +pole to drive her across, and I reached the shore safely. Fastening the +craft securely to a branch, I set forward towards the wood. As I +approached, a little board nailed to a tree drew my eye towards it, and +I read the nearly-effaced inscription, ‘Route des Ardennes.’ What a +thrill did not these words send through my heart! And was this, indeed, +the forest of which Shakespeare told us? Was I really ‘under the +greenwood tree,’ where fair Rosalind had rested, and where melancholy +Jaques had mused and mourned? And as I walked along, how instinct with +his spirit did each spot appear! There was the oak-- + + +‘Whose antique root peeps out Upon the brook that brawls along the +wood.’ A little farther on I came upon-- + +‘The bank of osiers by the murmuring stream.’ + +What a bright prerogative has genius, that thus can people space with +images which time and years erase not, making to the solitary traveller +a world of bright thoughts even in the darkness of a lonely wood! And so +to me appeared, as though before me, the scenes he pictured. Each +rustling breeze that shook the leafy shade seemed like the impetuous +passion of the devoted lover; the chirping notes of the wood-pigeon, +like the flippant raillery of beauteous Rosalind; and in the low ripple +of the brook I heard the complaining sounds of Jaques himself. + +Sunk in such pleasant fancies I lay beneath a spreading sycamore, and +with half-closed lids invoked the shades of that delightful vision +before me, when the tramp of feet, moving across the low brushwood, +suddenly aroused me. I started up on one knee, and listened. The next +moment three men emerged from the wood into the path. The two foremost, +dressed in blouses, were armed with carbines and a sabre; the last +carried a huge sack on his shoulders, and seemed to move with +considerable difficulty. + +‘_Ventre du diable!_’ cried he passionately, as he placed his burden on +the ground; ‘don’t hasten on this way; they’ll never follow us so far, +and I am half dead with fatigue.’ + +‘Come, come, Gros Jean,’ said one of the others, in a voice of command, +‘we must not halt before we reach the three elms.’ + +‘Why not bury it here?’ replied the first speaker, ‘or else take your +share of the labour?’ + +‘So I would,’ retorted the other violently, ‘if you could take my place +when we are attacked; but, _parbleu!_ you are more given to running away +than fighting.’ + +During this brief colloquy my heart rose to my mouth. The ruffianly +looks of the party, their arms, their savage demeanour, and their secret +purpose, whatever it was, to which I was now to a certain extent privy, +filled me with terror, and I made an effort to draw myself back on my +hands into the brushwood beneath the tree. The motion unfortunately +discovered me; and with a spring, the two armed fellows bounded towards +me, and levelled their pistols at my head. + +‘Who are you? What brings you here?’ shouted they both in a breath. + +‘For heaven’s sake, messieurs,’ said I, ‘down with your pistols! I am +only a traveller, a poor inoffensive wanderer, an Englishman--an +Irishman, rather, a good Catholic’--Heaven forgive me if I meant an +equivocation here!--‘lower the pistols, I beseech you.’ + +‘Shoot him through the skull; he’s a spy!’ roared the fellow with the +sack. + +‘Not a bit of it,’ said I; ‘I’m a mere traveller, admiring the country, +and an----’ + +‘And why have you tracked us out here?’ said one of the first speakers. + +‘I did not; I was here before you came. Do put down the pistols, for the +love of Mary! there’s no guarding against accidents, even with the most +cautious.’ + +‘Blow his brains out!’ reiterated he of the bag, louder than before. + +‘Don’t, messieurs, don’t mind _him_; he’s a coward! You are brave men, +and have nothing to fear from a poor devil like me.’ + +The two armed fellows laughed heartily at this speech, while the other, +throwing the sack from him, rushed at me with clenched hands. + +‘Hold off, Gros Jean,’ said one of his companions; ‘if he never tells a +heavier lie than that, he may make an easy confession on Sunday’; and +with that he pushed him rudely back, and stood between us. ‘Come, then,’ +cried he, ‘take up that sack and follow us.’ + +My blood curdled at the order; there was something fearful in the very +look of the long bag as it lay on the ground. I thought I could actually +trace the outline of a human figure. Heaven preserve me, I believed I +saw it move! + +‘Take it up,’ cried he sternly; ‘there’s no fear of its biting you.’ + +‘Ah,’ said I to myself, ‘the poor fellow is dead, then.’ Without more +ado they placed the bag on my shoulders, and ordered me to move forward. + +I grew pale and sick, and tottered at each step. + +‘Is it the smell affects you?’ said one, with a demoniac sneer. + +‘Pardon, messieurs,’ said I, endeavouring to pluck up courage, and seem +at ease; ‘I never carried a--a thing like this before.’ + +‘Step out briskly,’ cried he; ‘you ‘ve a long way before you’; and with +that he moved to the front, while the others brought up the rear. + +As we proceeded on our way, they informed me that if by any accident +they should be overtaken by any of my friends or associates, meaning +thereby any of the human race that should chance to walk that way, the +first thing they would do would be to shoot me dead--a circumstance that +considerably damped all my ardour for a rescue, and made me tremble lest +at any turn of the way some faggot-gatherer might appear in sight. +Meanwhile, never did a man labour more strenuously to win the favour of +his company. + +I began by protesting my extreme innocence; vowed that a man of more +estimable and amiable qualities than myself never did nor never would +exist. To this declaration they listened with manifest impatience, if +not with actual displeasure. I then tried another tack. I abused the +rich and commended the poor; I harangued in round terms on the grabbing +monopoly of the great, who enjoyed all the good things of this life, and +would share none with their neighbours; I even hinted a sly encomium on +those public-spirited individuals whose gallantry and sense of justice +led them to risk their lives in endeavours to equalise somewhat more +fairly this world’s wealth, and who were so ungenerously styled robbers +and highwaymen, though they were in reality benefactors and heroes. But +they only laughed at this; nor did they show any real sympathy with my +opinions till in my general attack on all constituted authorities-- +kings, priests, statesmen, judges, and gendarmes--by chance I included +revenue-officers. The phrase seemed like a spark on gunpowder. + +‘Curses be on the wretches! they are the plague-spots of the world,’ +cried I, seeing how they caught at the bait; ‘and thrice honoured the +brave fellows who would relieve suffering humanity from the burden of +such odious oppression.’ + +A low whispering now took place among my escort, and at length he who +seemed the leader stopped me short, and placing his hand on my shoulder, +cried out-- + +‘Are you sincere in all this? Are these your notions?’ + +‘Can you doubt me?’ said I. ‘What reasons have I for speaking them? How +do I know but you are revenue-officers that listen to me?’ + +‘Enough, you shall join us. We are going to pass this sack of cigars.’ + +‘Ho! these are cigars, then,’ said I, brightening up. ‘It is not a--a-- +eh?’ + +‘They are Dutch cigars, and the best that can be made,’ said he, not +minding my interruption. ‘We shall pass them over the frontier by Sedan +to-morrow night, and then we return to Dinant, where you shall come with +us.’ + +‘Agreed!’ said I, while a faint chill ran through my limbs, and I could +scarcely stand--images of galley life, irons with cannon-shot, and a +yellow uniform all flitting before me. From this moment they became +extremely communicative, detailing for my amusement many pleasing +incidents of their blameless life--how they burned a custom-house here, +and shot an inspector there--and in fact displaying the advantages of my +new profession, with all its attractions, before me. How I grinned with +mock delight at atrocities that made my blood curdle, and chuckled over +the roasting of a revenue-officer as though he had been a chestnut! I +affected to see drollery in cruelties that deserved the gallows, and +laughed till the tears came at horrors that nearly made me faint. My +concurrence and sympathy absolutely delighted the devils, and we shook +hands a dozen times over. + +It was evening, when, tired and ready to drop with fatigue, my +companions called a halt. + +‘Come, my friend,’ said the chief, ‘we’ll relieve you now of your +burden. You would be of little service to us at the frontier, and must +wait for us here till our return.’ + +It was impossible to make any proposal more agreeable to my feelings. +The very thought of being quit of my friends was ecstasy. I did not +dare, however, to vent my raptures openly, but satisfied myself with a +simple acquiescence. + +‘And when,’ said I, ‘am I to have the pleasure of seeing you again, +gentlemen?’ + +‘By to-morrow forenoon at farthest.’ + +By that time, thought I, I shall have made good use of my legs, please +Heaven! + +‘Meanwhile,’ said Gros Jean, with a grin that showed he had neither +forgotten nor forgiven my insults to his courage--‘meanwhile we’ll just +beg leave to fasten you to this tree’; and with the words, he pulled +from a great canvas pocket he wore at his belt a hank of strong cord, +and proceeded to make a slip noose on it. + +‘It’s not your intention, surely, to tie me here for the whole night?’ +said I, in horror. + +‘And why not?’ interposed the chief. ‘Do you think there are bears or +wolves in the Ardennes forest in September?’ + +‘But I shall die of cold or hunger! I never endured such usage before!’ + +‘You’ll have plenty worse when you’ve joined us, I promise you,’ was the +short reply, as without further loss of time they passed the cord round +my waist, and began, with a dexterity that bespoke long practice, to +fasten me to the tree. I protested vigorously against the proceeding; I +declaimed loudly about the liberty of the subject; vowed that England +would take a frightful measure of retribution on the whole country, if a +hair of my head were injured, and even went so far in the fervour of my +indignation as to threaten the party with future consequences from the +police. + +The word was enough. The leader drew his pistol from his belt, and +slapping down the pan, shook the priming with his hand. + +‘So,’ cried he, in a harsh and savage voice, unlike his former tone, +‘you ‘d play the informer would you? Well, it’s honest at least to say +as much. Now then, my man, a quick shrift and a short prayer, for I’ll +send you where you’ll meet neither gendarmes nor revenue-officers, or if +you do, they’ll have enough of business on their hands not to care for +yours.’ + +‘Spare my life, most amiable monsieur,’ said I, with uplifted hands. +‘Never shall I utter one word about you, come what will. I’ll keep all +I’ve seen a secret. Don’t kill the father of eight children. Let me live +this time, and I’ll never wander off a turnpike road three yards as long +as I breathe.’ + +They actually screamed with laughter at the terror of my looks; and the +chief, seemingly satisfied with my protestation, replaced his pistol in +his belt, and kneeling down on the ground began leisurely to examine my +knapsack, which he coolly unstrapped and emptied on the grass. + +‘What are these papers?’ said he, as he drew forth a most voluminous +roll of manuscript from a pocket. + +‘They are notes of my travels,’ said I obsequiously--little pen sketches +of men and manners in the countries I’ve travelled in. I call them +“Adventures of Arthur O’Leary.” That’s my name, gentlemen, at your +service.’ + +‘Ah, indeed. Well, then, we’ve given you a very pretty little incident +for your journal this evening,’ said he, laughing, ‘in return for which +I’ll ask leave to borrow these memoranda for wadding for my gun. Believe +me, Monsieur O’Leary, they’ll make a greater noise in the world under my +auspices than under yours’; and with that he opened a rude clasp-knife +and proceeded to cut my valued manuscript into pieces about an inch +square. This done, he presented two of my shirts to each of his +followers, reserving three for himself; and having made a most impartial +division of my other effects, he pocketed the purse I carried, with its +few gold pieces, and then, rising to his feet said-- + +‘Antoine, let us be stirring now; the moon will be up soon. Gros Jean, +throw that sack on your shoulder and move forward. And now, monsieur, I +must wish you a good-night; and as in this changeful life we can never +answer for the future, let me commend myself to your recollection +hereafter, if, as may be, we should not meet again. Adieu, adieu,’ said +he, waving his hand. + +‘Adieu,’ said I, with a great effort to seem at ease; ‘a pleasant +journey, and every success to your honest endeavours.’ + +‘You are a fine fellow,’ said he, stopping and turning about suddenly-- +‘a superb fellow; and I can’t part from you without a _gage d’amitié_ +between us’; and with the word he took my handsome travelling-cap from +my head and placed it on his own, while he crowned me with a villainous +straw thing that nothing save my bondage prevented me from hurling at +his feet. + +He now hurried forward after the others, and in a few minutes I was in +perfect solitude. + +‘Well,’ thought I (it was my first thought), ‘it might all have been +worse; the wretches might have murdered me, for such reckless devils as +practise their trade care little for human life. Murder, too, would only +meet the same punishment as smuggling, or nearly so--a year more or a +year less at the galleys; and, after all, the night is fine, and if I +mistake not he said something about the moon.’ I wondered where was the +pretty countess--travelling away, probably, as hard as extra post could +bring her. Ah, she little thought of my miserable plight now! Then came +a little interval of softness; and then a little turn of indignation at +my treatment--that I, an Englishman, should be so barbarously molested; +a native of the land where freedom was the great birthright of every +one! I called to mind all the fine things Burke used to say about +liberty, and if I had not begun to feel so cold I’d have tried to sing +‘Rule, Britannia,’ just to keep up my spirits; and then I fell asleep, +if sleep it could be called--that frightful nightmare of famished wolves +howling about me, tearing and mangling revenue-officers; and grisly +bears running backward and forward with smuggled tobacco on their backs. +The forest seemed peopled by every species of horrible shapes--half men, +half beast--but all with straw hats on their heads and leather gaiters +on their legs. + +However, the night passed over, and the day began to break; the purple +tint, pale and streaky, that announces the rising sun, was replacing the +cold grey of the darker hours. What a different thing it is, to be sure, +to get out of your bed deliberately, and rubbing your eyes for two or +three minutes with your fingers, as you stand at the half-closed +curtain, and then through the mist of your sleep look out upon the east, +and think you see the sun rising, and totter back to the comfortable +nest again, the whole incident not breaking your sleep, but merely being +interwoven with your dreams, a thing to dwell on among other pleasant +fancies, and to be boasted of the whole day afterwards--what a different +thing it is, I say, from the sensations of him who has been up all night +in the mail; shaken, bruised, and cramped; sat on by the fat man, and +kicked by the lean one--still worse of him who spends his night _dos à +dos_ to an oak in a forest, cold, chill, and comfortless; no property in +his limbs beneath the knees, where all sensation terminates, and his +hands as benumbed as the heart of a poor-law guardian! + +If I have never, in all my after-life, seen the sun rise from the Rigi, +from Snowdon, or the Pic du Midi, or any other place which seems +especially made for this sole purpose, I owe it to the experience of +this night, and am grateful therefore. Not that I have the most remote +notion of throwing disrespect on the glorious luminary, far from it--I +cut one of my oldest friends for speaking lightly of the equator; but I +hold it that the sun looks best, as every one else does, when he’s up +and dressed for the day. It’s a piece of prying, impertinent curiosity +to peep at him when he ‘s rising and at his toilette; he has not rubbed +the clouds out of his eyes, or you dared not look at him--and you feel +it too. The very way you steal out to catch a glimpse shows the +sneaking, contemptible sense you have of your own act. Peeping Tom was a +gentleman compared to your early riser. + +The whole of which digression simply seems to say that I by no means +enjoyed the rosy-fingered morning’s blushes the more for having spent +the preceding night in the open air. I need not worry myself, still less +my reader, by recapitulating the various frames of mind which succeeded +each other every hour of my captivity. At one time my escape with life +served to console me for all I endured; at another, my bondage excited +my whole wrath. I vowed vengeance on my persecutors too, and meditated +various schemes for their punishment--my anger rising as their absence +was prolonged, till I thought I could calculate my indignation by an +algebraical formula, and make it exactly equal to the ‘squares of the +distance’ of my persecutors. Then I thought of the delight I should +experience in regaining my freedom, and actually made a bold effort to +see something ludicrous in the entire adventure: but no--it would not +do; I could not summon up a laugh. + +At last--it might have been towards noon--I heard a merry voice chanting +a song, and a quick step coming up the _allée_ of the wood. Never did my +heart beat with such delight! The very mode of progression had something +joyous in it; it seemed a hop and a step and a spring, suiting each +motion to the tune of the air--when suddenly the singer, with a long +bound, stood before me. It would, indeed, have been a puzzling question +which of us more surprised the other; however, as I can render no +accurate account of _his_ sensations on seeing me, I must content myself +with recording mine on beholding him, and the best way to do so is to +describe him. He was a man, or a boy--Heaven knows which--of something +under the middle size, dressed in rags of every colour and shape; his +old white hat was crushed and bent into some faint resemblance of a +chapeau, and decorated with a cockade of dirty ribbons and a cock’s +feather; a little white jacket, such as men-cooks wear in the kitchen, +and a pair of flaming crimson-plush shorts, cut above the knee, and +displaying his naked legs, with sabots, formed his costume. A wooden +sword was attached to an old belt round his waist--an ornament of which +he seemed vastly proud, and which from time to time he regarded with no +small satisfaction. + +‘Holloa!’ cried he, starting back, as he stood some six paces off, and +gazed at me with most unequivocal astonishment; then recovering his +self-possession long before I could summon mine, he said, ‘Bonjour, +bonjour, camarade! a fine day for the vintage.’ + +‘No better,’ said I; ‘but come a little nearer, and do me the favour to +untie these cords.’ + +‘Ah, are you long fastened up there?’ + +‘The whole night,’ said I, in a lamentable accent, hoping to move his +compassion the more speedily. + +‘What fun!’ said he, chuckling. ‘Were there many squirrels about?’ + +‘Thousands of them. But, come, be quick and undo this, and I ‘ll tell +you all about it.’ + +‘Gently, gently,’ said he, approaching with great caution about six +inches nearer me. ‘When did the rabbits come out? Was it before day?’ + +‘Yes, yes, an hour before. But I’ll tell you everything when I ‘m loose. +Be alive now, do!’ + +‘Why did you tie yourself so fast?’ said he eagerly, but not venturing +to come closer. + +‘Confound the fellow!’ said I passionately. ‘I didn’t tie myself; it was +the--the---- + +‘Ah, I know; it was the mayor, old Pierre Bogout. Well, well, he knows +best when you ought to be set free. Bonjour,’ and with that he began +once more his infernal tune, and set out on his way as if nothing had +happened; and though I called, prayed, swore, promised, and threatened +with all my might, he never turned his head, but went on capering as +before, and soon disappeared in the dark wood. + +For a full hour, passion so completely mastered me that I could do +nothing but revile fools and idiots of every shade and degree-- +inveighing against mental imbecility as the height of human wickedness, +and wondering why no one had ever suggested the propriety of having +‘naturals’ publicly whipped. I am shocked at myself now, as I call to +mind the extravagance of my anger; and I grieve to say that had I been +for that short interval the proprietor of a private madhouse, I fear I +should have been betrayed into the most unwarrantable cruelties towards +the patients; indeed, what is technically called ‘moral government’ +would have formed no part of my system. + +Meanwhile time was moving on, if not pleasantly, at least steadily; and +already the sun began to decline somewhat--his rays, that before came +vertically, being now slanting as they fell upon the wood. For a while +my attention was drawn off from my miseries by watching the weasels as +they played and sported about me, in the confident belief that I was at +best only a kind of fungus--an excrescence on an oak-tree. One of them +came actually to my feet, and even ran across my instep in his play. +Suddenly the thought ran through me--and with terror--how soon may it +come to pass that I shall only be a miserable skeleton, pecked at by +crows, and nibbled by squirrels! The idea was too dreadful; and as if +the hour had actually come, I screamed out to frighten off the little +creatures, and sent them back scampering into their dens. + +‘Holloa there! what’s the matter?’ shouted a deep mellow voice from the +middle of the wood; and before I could reply, a fat, rosy-cheeked man of +about fifty, with a pleasant countenance terminating in a row of double +chins, approached me, but still with evident caution, and halting when +about five paces distant, stood still. + +‘Who are you?’ said I hastily, resolving this time at least to adopt a +different method of effecting my liberation. + +‘What’s all this?’ quoth the fat man, shading his eyes with his palm, +and addressing some one behind him, whom I now recognised as my friend +the fool who visited me in the morning. + +‘I say, sir,’ repeated I, in a tone of command somewhat absurd from a +man in my situation, ‘who are you, may I ask?’ + +‘The Maire de Givet,’ said he pompously, as he drew himself up, and took +a large pinch of snuff with an imposing gravity, while his companion +took off his hat in the most reverent fashion, and bowed down to the +ground. + +‘Well, Monsieur le Maire, the better fortune mine to fall into such +hands. I have been robbed, and fastened here, as you see, by a gang of +scoundrels’--I took good care to say nothing of smugglers--‘who have +carried away everything I possessed. Have the goodness to loosen these +confounded cords, and set me at liberty.’ + +‘Were there many of them?’ quoth the mayor, without budging a step +forward. + +‘Yes, a dozen at least. But untie me at once. I’m heartily sick of being +chained up here.’ + +‘A dozen at least!’ repeated he, in an accent of wonderment. ‘_Ma foi_, +a very formidable gang. Do you remember any of their names?’ + +‘Devil take their names! how should I know them? Come, cut these cords, +will you? We can talk just as well when I ‘m free.’ + +‘Not so fast, not so fast,’ said he, admonishing me with a bland motion +of his hand. ‘Everything must be done in order. Now, since you don’t +know their names, we must put them down as “parties unknown.”’ + +‘Put them down whatever you like; but let me loose!’ + +‘All in good time. Let us proceed regularly. Who are your witnesses?’ + +‘Witnesses!’ screamed I, overcome with passion; ‘you’ll drive me +distracted! I tell you I was waylaid in the wood by a party of +scoundrels, and you ask me for their names, and then for my witnesses! +Cut these cords, and don’t be so infernally stupid! Come, old fellow, +look alive, will you?’ + +‘Softly, softly; don’t interrupt public justice,’ said he, with a most +provoking composure. ‘We must draw up the _procès-verbal_.’ + +‘To be sure,’ said I, endeavouring to see what might be done by +concurrence with him, ‘nothing more natural But let me loose first; and +then we ‘ll arrange the _procès_.’ + +‘Not at all; you’re all wrong,’ interposed he. ‘I must have two +witnesses first, to establish the fact of your present position; ay, and +they must be of sound mind, and able to sign their names.’ + +‘May Heaven grant me patience, or I’ll burst!’ said I to myself, while +he continued in a regular sing-song tone-- + + +‘Then we’ll take the depositions in form. Where do you come from?’ + +‘Ireland,’ said I, with a deep sigh, wishing I were up to the neck in a +bog-hole there, in preference to my actual misfortune. + +‘What language do you usually speak?’ + +‘English.’ + +‘There, now,’ said he, brightening up, ‘there’s an important fact +already in the class No. 1--identity--which speaks of “all traits, +marks, and characteristic signs by which the plaintiff may be known.” + Now, we’ll set you forth as “an Irishman that speaks English.”’ + +‘If you go on this way a little longer, you may put me down as “insane,” + for I vow to heaven I’m becoming so!’ + +‘Come, Bobeche,’ said he, turning towards the natural, who stood in mute +admiration at his side, ‘go over to Claude Gueirans, at the mill, and +see if the _notaire_ be up there--there was a marriage of his niece this +morning, and I think you ‘ll find him; then cross the bridge, and make +for Papalot’s, and ask him to come up here, and bring some stamped paper +to take informations with him. You may tell the curé as you go by that +there’s been a dreadful crime committed in the forest, and that “la +justice s’informe.’” These last words were pronounced with an accent of +the most magniloquent solemnity. + +Scarcely had the fool set out on his errand when my temper, so long +restrained, burst all bounds, and I abused the mayor in the most +outrageous manner. There was no insult I could think of that I did not +heap on his absurdity, his ignorance, his folly, his stupidity; and I +never ceased till actually want of breath completely exhausted me. To +all this the worthy man made no reply, nor paid even the least +attention. Seated on the stump of a beech-tree, he looked steadily at +vacancy, till at length I began to doubt whether the whole scene were +real, and if he were not a mere creature of my imagination. I verily +believe I’d have given five louis d’ors to have been free one moment, if +only to pelt a stone at him. + +Meanwhile, the shadow of coming night was falling on the forest; the +crows came cawing home to their dwelling in the tree-tops; the sounds of +insect life were stilled in the grass; and the odours of the forest, +stronger as night closed in, filled the air. Gradually the darkness grew +thicker and thicker, and at last all I could distinguish was the stems +of the trees near me, and a massive black object I judged to be the +mayor. I called out to him in accents intended to be most apologetic. I +begged forgiveness for my warmth of temper; protested my regrets, and +only asked for the pleasure of his entertaining society till the hour of +my liberation should arrive. But no answer came; not a word, not a +syllable in reply--I could not even hear him breathing. Provoked at this +uncomplying obstinacy, I renewed my attacks on all constituted +authorities; expressed the most lively hopes that the gang of robbers +would some day or other burn down Givet and all it contained, not +forgetting the mayor and the notary; and, finally, to fill up the +measure of insult, tried to sing the _ça ira_, which in good monarchical +Holland was, I knew, a dire offence, but I broke down in the melody, and +had to come back to prose. However, it came just to the same--all was +silent. When I ceased speaking, not even an echo returned me a reply. At +last I grew wearied; the thought that all my anathemas had only an +audience of weasels and woodpeckers damped the ardour of my eloquence, +and I fell into a musing fit on Dutch justice, which seemed admirably +adapted to those good old times when people lived to the age of eight or +nine hundred years, and when a few months were as the twinkling of an +eye. Then I began a little plan of a tour from the time of my +liberation, cautiously resolving never to move out of the most beaten +tracks, and to avoid all districts where the mayor was a Dutchman. +Hunger and thirst and cold by this time began to tell upon my spirits +too, and I grew sleepy from sheer exhaustion. + +Scarcely had I nodded my head twice in slumber, when a loud shout awoke +me. I opened my eyes, and saw a vast mob of men, women, and children +carrying torches, and coming through the wood at full speed, the +procession being led by a venerable-looking old man on a white pony, +whom I at once guessed to be the curé, while the fool, with a very +imposing branch of burning pine, walked beside him. ‘Good-evening to +you, monsieur,’ said the old man, as he took off his hat, with an air of +courtesy. + +‘You must excuse the miserable plight I ‘m in, Monsieur le Curé,’ said +I, ‘if I can’t return your politeness; but I ‘m tied.’ + +‘Cut the cords at once,’ said the good man to the crowd that now pressed +forward. + +‘Your pardon, Father Jacques,’ said the mayor, as he sat up in the grass +and rubbed his eyes, which sleep seemed to have almost obliterated; ‘but +the _proces verbal_ is----’ + +‘Quite unnecessary here,’ replied the old man. ‘Cut the rope, my +friends.’ + +‘Not so fast,’ said the mayor, pushing towards me. ‘I ‘ll untie it. +That’s a good cord and worth eight sous.’ + +And so, notwithstanding all my assurances that I ‘d give him a crown- +piece to use more despatch, he proceeded leisurely to unfasten every +knot, and took at least ten minutes before he set me at liberty. + +‘Hurrah!’ said I, as the last coil was withdrawn, and I attempted to +spring into the air; but my cramped and chilled limbs were unequal to +the effort, and I rolled headlong on the grass. + +The worthy curé, however, was at once beside me, and after a few +directions to the party to make a litter for me, he knelt down to offer +up a short prayer for my deliverance; the rest followed the act with +implicit devotion, while I took off my hat in respect, and sat still +where I was. + +‘I see,’ whispered he, when the _Ave_ was over--’ I see you are a +Protestant. This is a fast day with us; but we ‘ll get you a poulet at +my cottage, and a glass of wine will soon refresh you.’ + +With many a thankful speech, I soon suffered myself to be lifted into a +large sheet, such as they use in the vineyards; and with a strong +cortege of the villagers carrying their torches, we took our way back to +Givet. + +The circumstances of my adventure, considerably exaggerated of course, +were bruited over the country; and before I was out of bed next morning, +a chasseur, in a very showy livery, arrived with a letter from the lord +of the manor, entreating me to take my abode for some days at the +Château de Rochepied, where I should be received with a perfect welcome, +and every endeavour made to recover my lost effects. Having consulted +with the worthy curé, who counselled me by all means to accept this +flattering invitation--a course I was myself disposed to--I wrote a few +lines of answer, and despatched a messenger by post to Dinant to bring +up my heavy baggage, which I had left there. + +Towards noon the count’s carriage drove up to convey me to the château; +and having taken an affectionate farewell of my kind host, I set out for +Rochepied. The wicker conveniency in which I travelled, all alone, +albeit not the thing for Hyde Park, was easy and pleasant in its motion; +the fat Flemish mares, with their long tails tastefully festooned over a +huge cushion of plaited straw on their backs, went at a fair, steady +pace; the road led through a part of the forest abounding in pretty +vistas of woodland scenery; and everything conspired to make me feel +that even an affair with a gang of smugglers might not be the worst +thing in life, if it were to lead to such pleasant results afterwards. + +As we jogged along, I learned from the fat Walloon coachman that the +château was full of company; that the count had invited numerous guests +for the opening of the _chasse_, and that there were French and Germans +and English, and for aught he knew Chinese expected to ‘assist’ at the +ceremony. I confess the information considerably damped the pleasure I +at first experienced. I was in hopes to see real country life, the +regular course of château existence, in a family quietly domesticated on +their own property. I looked forward to a peep at that _vie intime_ of +Flemish household, of which all I knew was gathered from a Wenix +picture, and I wanted to see the thing in reality. The good vrow, with +her high cap and her long waist, her pale features lit up with eyes of +such brown as only Van Dyck ever caught the colour of; the daughters, +prim and stately, with their stiff, quaint courtesy, moving about the +terraced walks, like figures stepping from an ancient canvas, with +bouquets in their white and dimpled fingers, or mayhap a jess-hawk +perched upon their wrist; the Mynheer Baron, a large and portly Fleming, +with a slouched beaver and a short trim moustache, deep of voice, heavy +of step, seated on a grey Cuyp-like horse, with a flowing mane and a +huge tassel of a tail, flapping lazily his brawny flanks, or slapping +with heavy stroke the massive jack-boots of his rider--such were my +notions of a Dutch household. The unchanged looks of the dwellings, +which for centuries were the same, in part suggested these thoughts. The +quaint old turrets, the stiff and stately terraces, the fosse, stagnant +and sluggish, the carved tracery of the massive doorway, were all as we +see them in the oldest pictures of the land; and when the rind looks so +like, it is hard to imagine the fruit with a different flavour. + +It was then with considerable regret I learned that I should see the +family _en gala_; that I had fallen upon a time of feasting and +entertainment. Had it not been too late, I should have beaten my +retreat, and taken up my abode for another day with the curé of Givet; +as it was, I resolved to make my visit as brief as possible, and take to +the road with all convenient despatch. + +As we neared the château, the Walloon remembered a number of apologies +with which the count charged him to account for his not having gone +himself to fetch me, alleging the claims of his other guests, and the +unavoidable details which the forthcoming _ouverture de la chasse_ +demanded at his hands. I paid little attention to the mumbled and broken +narrative, interrupted by imprecations on the road and exhortations to +the horses; for already we had entered the precincts of the demesne, and +I was busy in noting down the appearance of the place. There was, +however, little to remark. The transition from the wide forest to the +park was only marked by a little improvement in the road; there was +neither lodge nor gate--no wall, no fence, no inclosure of any kind. The +trim culture, which in our country is so observable around the approach +of a house of some consequence, was here totally wanting; the avenue was +partly of gravel, partly of smooth turf; the brushwood of prickly holly +was let grow wild, and straggled in many places across the road; the +occasional views that opened seemed to have been made by accident, not +design; and all was rank vegetation and rich verdure, uncared for-- +uncultivated, but like the children of the poor, seeming only the +healthier and more robust, because left to their own unchecked, +untutored impulses. The rabbits played about within a few paces of the +carriage tracks; the birds sat motionless on the trees as we passed, +while here and there through the foliage I could detect the gorgeous +colouring of some bright peacock’s tail, as he rested on a bough and +held converse with his wilder brethren of the air, just as if the +remoteness of the spot and its seclusions led to intimacies which in the +ordinary routine of life had been impossible. At length the trees +receded farther and farther from the road, and a beautiful expanse of +waving lawn, dotted with sheep, stretched before the eye. In the +distance, too, I could perceive the château itself--a massive pile in +the shape of a letter L, bristling with chimneys, and pierced with +windows of every size and shape; clumps of flowering shrubs and fruit- +trees were planted about, and little beds of flowers spangled the even +turf like stars in the expanse of heaven. The Meuse wound round the +château on three sides, and perhaps thus saved it from being inflicted +by a ditch, for without water a Dutchman can no more exist than a +mackerel. + +‘Fine! isn’t it?’ said the Walloon, as he pointed with his finger to the +scene before me, and seemed to revel with delight in my look of +astonishment, while he plied his whip with renewed vigour, and soon drew +up at a wide flight of stone steps, where a row of orange-trees mounted +guard on each side, and filled the place with their fragrance. + +A servant in the strange _mélange_ of a livery, where the colours seemed +chosen from a bed of ranunculuses just near, came out to let down the +steps and usher me into the house. He informed me that the count had +given orders for my reception, but that he and all his friends were out +on horseback, and would not be back before dinner-time. Not sorry to +have a little time to myself, I retired to my room, and threw myself +down on a most comfortable sofa, excessively well satisfied with the +locality and well disposed to take advantage of my good fortune. The +little bed, with its snow-white curtains and gilded canopy; the brass +dogs upon the hearth, that shone like gold; the cherry-wood table, that +might have served as a mirror; the modest book-shelf, with its pleasant +row of volumes; but, better than all, the open window, from which I +could see for miles over the top of a dark forest, and watch the Meuse +as it came and went, now shining, now lost in the recesses of the wood-- +all charmed me; and I fully confessed what I have had very frequently to +repeat in life, that ‘Arthur O’Leary was born under a lucky planet.’ + + + +CHAPTER XII. CHATEAU LIFE + +Stretched upon a large old-fashioned sofa, where a burgomaster might +have reclined with ‘ample room and verge enough,’ in all the easy +abandonment of dressing-gown and slippers; the cool breeze gently +wafting the window-blind to and fro, and tempering the lulling sounds +from wood and water; the buzzing of the summer insects and the far-off +carol of a peasant’s song--I fell into one of those delicious sleeps in +which dreams are so faintly marked as to leave us no disappointment on +waking: flitting shadowlike before the mind, they live only in a +pleasant memory of something vague and undefined, and impart no touch of +sorrow for expectations unfulfilled, for hopes that are not to be +realised. I would that my dreams might always take this shape. It is a +sad thing when they become tangible; when features and looks, eyes, +hands, words, and signs, live too strongly in our sleeping minds, and we +awake to the cold reality of our daily cares and crosses, tenfold less +endurable from very contrast. No! give me rather the faint and waving +outline, the shadowy perception of pleasure, than the vivid picture, to +end only in the conviction that I am but Christopher Sly after all; or +what comes pretty much to the same, nothing but--Arthur O’Leary. + +Still, I would not have you deem me discontented with my lot; far from +it. I chose my path early in life, and never saw reason to regret the +choice. How many of you can say as much? I felt that while the tender +ties of home and family, the charities that grow up around the charmed +circle of a wife and children, are the great prizes of life, there are +also a thousand lesser ones in the wheel, in the kindly sympathies with +which the world abounds; that to him who bears no ill-will at his heart- +-nay, rather loving all things that are lovable, with warm attachments +to all who have been kind to him, with strong sources of happiness in +his own tranquil thoughts--the wandering life would offer many +pleasures. + +Most men live, as it were, with one story of their lives, the traits of +childhood maturing into manly features; their history consists of the +development of early character in circumstances of good or evil fortune. +They fall in love, they marry, they grow old, and they die--each +incident of their existence bearing on that before and that after, like +link upon link of some great chain. He, however, who throws himself like +a plank upon the waters, to be washed hither and thither as wind or tide +may drive him, has a very different experience. To him life is a +succession of episodes, each perfect in itself; the world is but a +number of tableaux, changing with climate and country--his sorrows in +France having no connection with his joys in Italy; his delights in +Spain living apart from his griefs on the Rhine. The past throws no +shadow on the future; his philosophy is to make the most of the present; +and he never forgets La Bruyère’s maxim--‘Il faut rire avant d’être +heureux, _de peur de mourir sans avoir ri_.’ + +Now, if you don’t like my philosophy, set it down as a dream, and here I +am awake once more. + +And certainly I claim no great merit on the score of my vigilance; for +the tantararara that awoke me would have aroused the Seven Sleepers +themselves. Words are weak to convey the most distant conception of the +noise; it seemed as though ten thousand peacocks had congregated beneath +my window, and with brazen throats were bent on giving me a hideous +concert; the fiend-chorus in _Robert le Diable_ was a psalm-tune +compared to it. I started up and rushed to the casement; and there, in +the lawn beneath, beheld some twenty persons costumed in hunting +fashion, their horses foaming and splashed, their coats stained with +marks of the forest. But the uproar was soon comprehensible, owing to +some half-dozen of the party who performed on that most diabolical of +all human inventions, the _cor de chasse_. + +Imagine, if you can, and thank your stars that it is only a work of +imagination, some twenty feet of brass pipe, worn belt-fashion over one +shoulder and under the opposite arm, one end of the aforesaid tube being +a mouth-piece, and the other expanding itself into a huge trumpet-mouth; +then conceive a Fleming--one of Rubens’s cherubs, immensely magnified, +and decorated with a beard and moustaches--blowing into this with all +the force of his lungs, perfectly unmindful of the five other +performers, who at five several and distinct parts of the melody are +blasting away also--treble and bass, contralto and soprano, shake and +sostenuto, all blending into one crash of hideous discord, to which the +Scotch bagpipe in a pibroch is a soothing, melting melody. A deaf-and- +dumb institution ‘would capitulate in half an hour. Truly, the results +of a hunting expedition ought to be of the most satisfactory kind, to +make the ‘Retour de la Chasse’ (it was this they were blowing) at all +sufferable to those who were not engaged in the concert. As for the +performers, I can readily believe they never heard a note of the whole. + +Even Dutch lungs grow tired at last. Having blown the establishment into +ecstasies, and myself into a furious headache, they gave in; and now an +awful bell announced the time to dress for dinner. While I made my +toilette, I endeavoured, as well as my throbbing temples would permit +me, to fancy the host’s personal appearance, and to conjecture the style +of the rest of the party. My preparations over, I took a parting look in +the glass, as if to guess the probable impression I should make below- +stairs, and sallied forth. + +Cautiously stealing along over the well-waxed floors, slippery as ice +itself, I descended the broad oak stairs into a great hall, wainscoted +with dark walnut and decorated with antlers’ and stags’ heads, cross- +bows and arquebuses, and, to my shuddering horror, with various _cors de +chasse_, now happily, however, silent on the walls. I entered the +drawing-room, conning over to myself a little speech in French, and +preparing myself to bow for the next fifteen minutes; but, to my +surprise, no one had yet appeared. All were still occupied in dressing, +and probably taking some well-merited repose after their exertions on +the wind-instruments. I had now time for a survey of the apartment; and, +generally speaking, a drawing-room is no bad indication of the tastes +and temperament of the owners of the establishment. + +The practised eye speedily detects in the character and arrangement of a +chamber something of its occupant. In some houses, the absence of all +decoration, the simple puritanism of the furniture, bespeaks the life of +quiet souls whose days are as devoid of luxury as their dwellings. You +read in the cold grey tints the formal stiffness and unrelieved +regularity around the Quaker-like flatness of their existence. In +others, there is an air of ill-done display, a straining after effect, +which shows itself in costly but ill-assorted details, a mingling of all +styles and eras without repose or keeping. The bad pretentious pictures, +the faulty bronzes, meagre casts of poor originals, the gaudy china, are +safe warranty for the vulgarity of their owners; while the humble +parlour of a village inn can be, as I have seen it, made to evidence the +cultivated tastes and polished habits of those who have made it the +halting-place of a day. We might go back and trace how much of our +knowledge of the earliest ages is derived from the study of the interior +of their dwellings; what a rich volume of information is conveyed in a +mosaic; what a treatise does not lie in a frescoed wall! + +The room in which I now found myself was a long, and for its length a +narrow, apartment; a range of tall windows, deeply sunk in the thick +wall, occupied one side, opposite to which was a plain wall covered with +pictures from floor to cornice, save where, at a considerable distance +from one another, were two splendidly carved chimney-pieces of black +oak, one representing ‘The Adoration of the Shepherds,’ and the other +‘The Miraculous Draught of Fishes’--the latter done with a relief, a +vigour, and a movement I have never seen equalled. Above these were some +armorial trophies of an early date, in which, among the maces and +battle-axes, I could recognise some weapons of Eastern origin, which by +the family, I learned, were ascribed to the periods of the Crusades. + +Between the windows were placed a succession of carved oak cabinets of +the seventeenth century--beautiful specimens of art, and for all their +quaintness far handsomer objects of furniture than our modern luxury has +introduced among us. Japan vases of dark blue-and-green were filled with +rare flowers; here and there small tables of costly buhl invited you to +the window recesses, where the downy ottomans, pillowed with Flemish +luxury, suggested rest if not sleep. The pictures, over which I could +but throw a passing glance, were all by Flemish painters, and of that +character which so essentially displays their chief merits of richness +of colour and tone--Gerard Dow and Ostade, Cuyp, Van der Meer, and +Terburg--those admirable groupings of domestic life, where the nation +is, as it were, miniatured before you; that perfection of domestic +quiet, which bespeaks an heirloom of tranquillity derived whole +centuries back. You see at once, in those dark-brown eyes and placid +features, the traits that have taken ages to bring to such perfection; +and you recognise the origin of those sturdy burgomasters and bold +burghers, who were at the same time the thriftiest merchants and the +haughtiest princes of Europe. + +Suddenly, and when I was almost on my knees to examine a picture by +Memling, the door opened, and a small, sharp-looking man, dressed in the +last extravagance of Paris mode, resplendent in waistcoat and glistening +in jewellery, tripped lightly forward. ‘Ah, mi Lor O’Leary!’ said he, +advancing towards me with a bow and a slide. + +It was no time to discuss pedigree; so gulping the promotion, I made my +acknowledgments as best I could; and by the time that we met, which on a +moderate calculation might have been two minutes after he entered, we +shook hands very cordially, and looked delighted to see each other. This +ceremony, I repeat, was only accomplished after his having bowed round +two tables, an ottoman, and an oak _armoire_, I having performed the +like ceremony behind a Chinese screen, and very nearly over a vase of +the original ‘green dragon,’ which actually seemed disposed to spring at +me for my awkwardness. + +Before my astonishment--shall I add, disappointment?--had subsided, at +finding that the diminutive, overdressed figure before me was the +representative of those bold barons I had been musing over (for such he +was), the room began to fill. Portly ladies of undefined dates sailed in +and took their places, stiff, stately, and silent as their grandmothers +on the walls; heavy-looking gentlemen, with unpronounceable names, bowed +and wheeled and bowed again; while a buzz of _votre serviteur_, madame, +or monsieur, swelled and sank amid the murmur of the room, with the +scraping of feet on the glazed _parquet_, and the rustle of silk, whose +plenitude bespoke a day when silkworms were honest. + +The host paraded me around the austere circle, where the very names +sounded like an incantation; and the old ladies shook their bugles and +agitated their fans in recognition of my acquaintance. The circumstances +of my adventure were the conversation of every group; and although, I +confess, I could not help feeling that even a small spice of malice +might have found food for laughter in the absurdity of my durance, yet +not one there could see anything in the whole affair save a grave case +of smuggled tobacco, and a most unwarrantable exercise of authority on +the part of the curé who liberated me. Indeed, this latter seemed to +gain ground so rapidly, that once or twice I began to fear they might +remand me and sentence me to another night in the air, ‘till justice +should be satisfied.’ I did the worthy Maire de Givet foul wrong, said I +to myself; these people here are not a whit better. + +The company continued to arrive at every moment; and now I remarked that +it was the veteran battalion who led the march, the younger members of +the household only dropping in as the hour grew later. Among these was a +pleasant sprinkling of Frenchmen, as easily recognisable among Flemings +as is an officer of the Blues from one of the new police; a German +baron, a very portrait of his class, fat, heavy-browed, sulky-looking, +but in reality a good-hearted, fine-tempered fellow; two Americans; an +English colonel, with his daughters twain; and a Danish _chargé d’ +affaires_--the minor characters being what, in dramatic phrase, are +called _premiers_ and _premieres_, meaning thereby young people of +either sex, dressed in the latest mode, and performing the part of +lovers; the ladies, with a moderate share of good looks, being perfect +in the freshness of their toilette and in a certain air of ease and +gracefulness almost universal abroad; the men, a strange mixture of +silliness and savagery (a bad cross), half hairdresser, half hero. + +Before the dinner was announced, I had time to perceive that the company +was divided into two different and very opposite currents--one party +consisting of the old Dutch or Flemish race, quiet, plodding, peaceable +souls, pretending to nothing new, enjoying everything old, their +souvenirs referring to some event in the time of their grandfathers; the +other section being the younger portion, who, strongly imbued with +French notions on dress and English on sporting matters, attempted to +bring Newmarket and the Boulevards des Italiens into the heart of the +Ardennes. + +Between the two, and connecting them with each other, was a species of +_pont du diable_, in the person of a little, dapper, olive-complexioned +man of about forty. His eyes were black as jet, but with an expression +soft and subdued, save at moments of excitement, when they flashed like +glow-worms; his plain suit of black with deep cambric ruffles, his silk +shorts and buckled shoes, had in them something of the ecclesiastic; and +so it was. He was the Abbé van Praet, the cadet of an ancient Belgian +family, a man of considerable ability, highly informed on most subjects; +a linguist, a musician, a painter of no small pretensions, who spent his +life in the _far niente_ of château existence--now devising a party of +pleasure, now inventing a madrigal, now giving directions to the chef +how to make an _omelette à la curé_, now stealing noiselessly along some +sheltered walk to hear some fair lady’s secret confidence; for he was +privy counsellor in all affairs of the heart, and, if the world did not +wrong him, occasionally pleaded his own cause when no other petitioner +offered. I was soon struck by this man, and by the tact with which, +while he preserved his ascendency over the minds of all, he never +admitted any undue familiarity, yet affected all the ease and +_insouciance_ of the veriest idler. I was flattered, also, by his notice +of me, and by the politeness of his invitation to sit next him at table. + +The distinctions I have hinted at already, made the dinner conversation +a strange medley of Flemish history and sporting anecdotes; of +reminiscences of the times of Maria Theresa, and dissertations on +weights and ages; of the genealogies of Flemish families, and the +pedigrees of English racehorses. The young English ladies, both pretty +and delicate-looking girls, with an air of good-breeding and tone in +their manner, shocked me not a little by the intimate knowledge they +displayed on all matters of the turf and the stable--their acquaintance +with the details of hunting, racing, and steeplechasing, seeming to form +the most wonderful attraction to the moustached counts and whiskered +barons who listened to them. The colonel was a fine, mellow-looking old +gentleman, with a white head and a red nose, and with that species of +placid expression one sees in the people who perform those parts in +Vaudeville theatres called _pères nobles_. He seemed, indeed, as if he +had been daily in the habit of bestowing a lovely daughter on some +happy, enraptured lover, and invoking a blessing on their heads; there +was a rich unction in his voice, an almost imperceptible quaver, that +made it seem kind and affectionate; he finished his shake of the hand +with a little parting squeeze, a kind of ‘one cheer more,’ as they say +nowadays, when some misguided admirer calls upon a meeting for +enthusiasm they don’t feel. The Americans were (and one description will +serve for both, so like were they) sallow, high-boned, silent men, with +a species of quiet caution in their manner, as if they were learning, +but had not yet completed, a European education as to habits and +customs, and were studiously careful not to commit any solecisms which +might betray their country. + +As dinner proceeded, the sporting characters carried the day. The +_ouverture de la chasse_, which was to take place the following morning, +was an all-engrossing topic, and I found myself established as judge on +a hundred points of English jockey etiquette, of which as my ignorance +was complete I suffered grievously in the estimation of the company, +and, when referred to, could neither apportion the weight to age, nor +even tell the number of yards in a ‘distance.’ It was, however, decreed +that I should ride the next day--the host had the ‘very horse to suit +me’; and, as the abbé whispered me to consent, I acceded at once to the +arrangement. + +When we adjourned to the drawing-room, Colonel Muddleton came towards me +with an easy smile and an outstretched snuff-box, both in such perfect +keeping: the action was a finished thing. + +‘Any relation, may I ask, of a very old friend and brother officer of +mine, General Mark O’Leary, who was killed in Canada?’ said he. + +‘A very distant one only,’ replied I. + +‘A capital fellow, brave as a lion, and pleasant. By Jove, I never met +the like of him! What became of his Irish property?--he was never +married, I think?’ + +‘No, he died a bachelor, and left his estates to my uncle; they had met +once by accident, and took a liking to each other.’ + +‘And so your uncle has them now?’ + +‘No; my uncle died since. They came into my possession some two or three +years ago.’ + +‘Eh--ah--upon my life!’ said he, with something of surprise in his +manner; and then, as if ashamed of his exclamation, and with a much more +cordial vein than at first, he resumed: ‘What a piece of unlooked-for +good fortune to be sure! Only think of my finding my old friend Mark’s +nephew!’ + +‘Not his nephew. I was only----’ + +‘Never mind, never mind; he was kind of an uncle, you know--any man +might be proud of him. What a glorious fellow!--full of fun, full of +spirit and animation. Ah, just like all your countrymen! I’ve a little +Irish blood in my veins myself; my mother was an O’Flaherty or an +O’Neil, or something of that sort; and there’s Laura--you don’t know my +daughter?’ ‘I have not the honour.’ + +‘Come along, and I’ll introduce you to her; a little reserved or so,’ +said he, in a whisper, as if to give me the _carte du pays_--’ rather +cold, you know, to strangers; but when she hears you are the nephew of +my old friend Mark--Mark and I were like brothers.--Laura, my love,’ +said he, tapping the young lady on her white shoulder as she stood with +her back towards us; ‘Laura, dear---the son of my oldest friend in the +world, General O’Leary.’ + +The young lady turned quickly round, and, as she drew herself up +somewhat haughtily, dropped me a low curtsy, and then resumed her +conversation with a very much whiskered gentleman near. The colonel +seemed, despite all his endeavours to overcome it, rather put out by his +daughter’s hauteur to the _son_ of his old friend; and what he would +have said or done I know not, but the abbé came suddenly up, and with a +card invited me to join a party at whist. The moment was so awkward for +all, that I would have accepted an invitation even to écarté to escape +from the difficulty, and I followed him into a small boudoir where two +ladies were awaiting us. I had just time to see that they were both +pleasing-looking, and of that time of life when women, without +forfeiting any of the attractions of youth, are much more disposed to +please by the attractions of manner and _esprit_ than by mere beauty, +when we sat down to our game. La Baronne de Meer, my partner, was the +younger and the prettier of the two; she was one of those Flemings into +whose families the race of Spain poured the warm current of southern +blood, and gave them the dark eye and the olive skin, the graceful +figure and the elastic step, so characteristic of their nation. + +‘A la bonne heure,’ said she, smiling; ‘have we rescued one from the +enchantress?’ + +‘Yes,’ replied the abbé, with an affected gravity; ‘in another moment he +was lost.’ + +‘If you mean me,’ said I, laughing, ‘I assure you I ran no danger at +all; for whatever the young lady’s glances may portend, she seemed very +much indisposed to bestow a second on me.’ + +The game proceeded with its running fire of chitchat, from which I could +gather that Mademoiselle Laura was a most established man-killer, no one +ever escaping her fascinations save when by some strange fatality they +preferred her sister Julia, whose style was, to use the abbé’s phrase, +her sister’s ‘diluted.’ There was a tone of pique in the way the ladies +criticised the colonel’s daughters, which I have often remarked in those +who, accustomed to the attentions of men themselves, without any unusual +effort to please on their part, are doubly annoyed when they perceive a +rival making more than ordinary endeavours to attract admirers. They +feel as a capitalist would, when another millionaire offers money at a +lower rate of interest. It is, as it were, a breach of conventional +etiquette, and never escapes being severely criticised. + +As for me, I had no personal feeling at stake, and looked on at the game +of all parties with much amusement. + +‘Where is the Comte d’Espagne to-night?’ said the baronne to the abbé. +‘Has he been false?’ + +‘Not at all; he was singing with mademoiselle when I was in the salon.’ + +‘You’ll have a dreadful rival there, Monsieur O’Leary,’ said she +laughingly; ‘he is the most celebrated swordsman and the best shot in +Flanders.’ + +‘It is likely he may rust his weapons if he have no opportunity for +their exercise till I give it,’ said I. + +‘Don’t you admire her, then?’ said she. + +‘The lady is very pretty, indeed,’ said I. + +‘The heart led,’ interrupted the abbé suddenly, as he touched my foot +beneath the table--‘play a heart.’ + +Close beside my chair, and leaning over my cards, stood Mademoiselle +Laura herself at the moment. + +‘You have no heart,’ said she, in English, and with a singular +expression on the words, while her downcast eye shot a glance--one +glance--through me. + +‘Yes, but I have though,’ said I, discovering a card that lay concealed +behind another; ‘it only requires a little looking for.’ + +‘Not worth the trouble, perhaps,’ said she, with a toss of her head, as +I threw the deuce upon the table; and before I could reply she was gone. + +‘I think her much prettier when she looks saucy,’ said the baronne, as +if to imply that the air of pique assumed was a mere piece of acting got +up for effect. + +I see it all, said I to myself. Foreign women can never forgive English +for being so much their superior in beauty and loveliness. Meanwhile our +game came to a close, and we gathered around the buffet. + +There we found the old colonel, with a large silver tankard of mulled +wine, holding forth over some campaigning exploit, to which no one +listened for more than a second or two--and thus the whole room became +joint-stock hearers of his story. Laura stood eating her ice with the +Comte d’Espagne, the black-whiskered cavalier already mentioned, beside +her. The Americans were prosing away about Jefferson and Adams; the +Belgians talked agriculture and genealogy; and the French collecting +into a group of their own, in which nearly all the pretty women joined, +discoursed the ballet, the Chambre, the court, the coulisses, the last +mode, and the last murder, and all in the same mirthful and lively tone. +And truly, let people condemn as they will this superficial style of +conversation, there is none equal to it; it avoids the prosaic flatness +of German, and the monotonous pertinacity of English, which seems more +to partake of the nature of discussion than dialogue. French chit-chat +takes a wider range--anecdotic, illustrative, and discursive by turns; +it deems nothing too light, nothing too weighty for its subject; it is a +gay butterfly, now floating with gilded wings above you, now tremulously +perched upon a leaf below, now sparkling in the sunbeam, now loitering +in the shade; embodying not only thought, but expression, it charms by +its style as well as by its matter. The language, too, suggests shades +and nuances of colouring that exist not in other tongues; you can give +to your canvas the precise tint you wish, for when mystery would prove a +merit, the equivoque is there ready to your hand--meaning so much, yet +asserting so little. For my part I should make my will in English; but +I’d rather make love in French. + +While thus digressing, I have forgotten to mention that people are +running back and forward with bedroom candles; there is a confused hum +of _bonsoir_ on every side; and, with many a hope of a fine day for the +morrow, we separate for the night. + +I lay awake some hours thinking of Laura, and then of the baronne--they +were both arch ones; the abbé too crossed my thoughts, and once or twice +the old colonel’s roguish leer; but I slept soundly for all that, and +did not wake till eight o’clock the next morning. The silence of the +house struck me forcibly as I rubbed my eyes and looked about. Hang it, +thought I, have they gone off to the _chasse_ without me? I surely could +never have slept through the uproar of their trumpets. I drew aside the +window-curtains, and the mystery was solved: such rain never fell +before; the clouds, actually touching the tops of the beech-trees, +seemed to ooze and squash like squeezed sponges. The torrent came down +in that splashing stroke as if some force behind momentarily propelled +it stronger; and the long-parched ground seethed and smoked like a +heated caldron. + +Pleasant this, was reflection number one, as I endeavoured to peer +through the mist, and beheld a haze of weeping foliage--pleasant to be +immured here during Heaven knows how many days, without the power to +escape. Lucky fellow, Arthur, was my second thought; capital quarters +you have fallen into. Better far the snug comforts of a Flemish chateau +than the chances of a wayside inn. Besides, here is a goodly company met +together; there will needs be pleasant people among them. I wish it may +rain these three weeks; château life is the very thing I ‘m curious +about. How do they get through the day? There’s no _Times_ in Flanders; +no one cares a farthing about who’s in and who’s out. There’s no Derby, +no trials for murder. What can they do? was the question I put to myself +a dozen times over. No matter; I have abundant occupation; my journal +has never been posted up since--since--alas, I can scarcely tell! + +It might be from reflections like these, or perhaps because I was less +of a sportsman than my companions, but certainly, whatever the cause, I +bore up against the disappointment of the weather with far more +philosophy than they, and dispersed a sack of proverbs about patience, +hope, equanimity, and contentment which Sancho Panza himself might have +envied, until at length no one ventured a malediction on the day in my +presence, for fear of eliciting a hailstorm of moral reflections. The +company dropped down to breakfast by detachments, the elated looks and +flashing eyes of the night before saddened and overcast at the +unexpected change. Even the elders of the party seemed discontented; and +except myself and an old gentleman with the gout, who took an airing +about the hall and the drawing-room in a wheel-chair, all seemed +miserable. + +Each window had its occupant posted against the glass, vainly +endeavouring to catch one bit of blue amid the dreary waste of cloud. A +little group, sulky and silent, were gathered around the weather-glass; +a literary inquirer sat down to con over the predictions of the almanac. +You might as well have looked for sociability among the inhabitants of a +private madhouse as here. The weather was cursed in every language from +Cherokee to Sanskrit; all agreed that no country had such an abominable +climate. The Yankee praised the summers of America, the Dane upheld his +own, and I took a patriotic turn, and vowed I had never seen such rain +in Ireland. The master of the house could scarcely show himself amid +this torrent of abusive criticism; and when he did by chance appear, he +looked as much ashamed as though he himself had pulled out the spigot, +and deluged the whole land with water. + +Meanwhile, none of those I looked for appeared. Neither the colonel’s +daughter nor the baronne came down; the abbé too, did not descend to the +breakfast room, and I was considerably puzzled and put out by the +disappointment. + +After then enduring a good hour’s boredom from the old colonel on the +subject of my late lamented parent, Mark O’Leary; after submitting to a +severe cross-examination from the Yankee gentleman as to the reason of +my coming abroad, what property and expectations I had, my age and +birthplace, what my mother died of, and whether I did not feel very +miserable from the abject slavery of submitting to an English +Government--I escaped into the library, a fine, comfortable old room, +which I rightly conjectured I should find unoccupied. + +Selecting a quaint-looking quarto with some curious illuminated pages +for my companion, I drew a great deep leather chair into a recess of one +window, and hugged myself in my solitude. While I listlessly turned over +the leaves of my book, or sat lost in reflection, time crept along, and +I heard the great clock of the château strike three; at the same moment +a hand fell lightly on my shoulder; I turned about--it was the abbé. + +‘I half suspected I should find you here,’ said he. ‘Do I disturb you, +or may I keep you company?’ + +‘But too happy,’ I replied, ‘if you ‘ll do me the favour.’ + +‘I thought,’ said he, as he drew a chair opposite to me,--‘I thought +you’d scarcely play dominoes all day, or discuss waistcoats.’ + +‘In truth I was scarcely better employed; this old volume here which I +took down for its plates----’ + +‘_Ma foi_, a most interesting one; it is Guchardi’s _History of Mary of +Burgundy_. Those quaint old processions, those venerable councils, are +admirably depicted. What rich stores for a romance writer lie in the +details of these old books! Their accuracy as to costume, the little +traits of everyday life, are so naïvely told; every little domestic +incident is so full of its characteristic era. I wonder, when the +springs are so accessible, men do not draw more frequently from them, +and more purely also.’ + +‘You forget Scott.’ + +‘No; far from it. He is the great exception; and from his intimate +acquaintance with this class of reading is he so immeasurably superior +to all other writers of his style. Not merely tinctured, but deeply +imbued with the habits of the feudal period, the traits by which others +attempt to paint the time with him were mere accessories in the picture; +costume and architecture he used to heighten, not to convey his +impressions; and while no one knew better every minute particular of +dress or arms that betokened a period or a class, none more sparingly +used such aid. He felt the same delicacy certain ancient artists did as +to the introduction of pure white into their pictures, deeming such an +unfair exercise of skill. But why venture to speak of your countryman to +you, save that genius is above nationality, and Scott’s novels at least +are European.’ + +After chatting for some time longer, and feeling struck with, the extent +and variety of the abbé’s attainments, I half dropped a hint expressive +of my surprise that one so cultivated as he was could apparently so +readily comply with the monotonous routine of a château life, and the +little prospect it afforded of his meeting congenial associates. Far +from feeling offended at the liberty of my remark, he replied at once +with a smile-- + +‘You are wrong there, and the error is a common one; but when you have +seen more of life, you will learn that a man’s own resources are the +only real gratifications he can count upon. Society, like a field-day, +may offer the occasion to display your troops and put them through their +manoeuvres; but, believe me, it is a rare and a lucky day when you go +back richer by one recruit, and the chance is that even he is a cripple, +and must be sent about his business. People, too, will tell you much of +the advantage to be derived from associating with men of distinguished +and gifted minds. I have seen something of such in my time, and give +little credit to the theory. You might as well hope to obtain credit for +a thousand pounds because you took off your hat to a banker.’ + +The abbé paused after this, and seemed to be occupied with his own +thoughts; then raising his head suddenly, he said-- + +‘As to happiness, believe me, it lives only in the extremes of perfect +vacuity or true genius. Your clever fellow, with a vivid fancy and +glowing imagination, strong feeling and strong power of expression, has +no chance of it. The excitement he lives in is alone a bar to the +tranquil character of thought necessary to happiness; and however cold a +man may feel, he should never warm himself through a burning-glass.’ + +There seemed through all he said something like a retrospective tone, as +though he were rather giving the fruit of past personal experiences than +merely speculating on the future; and I could not help throwing out a +hint to this purport. + +‘Perhaps you are right,’ said he; then, after a long silence, he added: +‘It is a fortunate thing after all when the faults of a man’s +temperament are the source of some disappointment in early life, because +then they rarely endanger his subsequent career. Let him only escape the +just punishment, whatever it be, and the chances are that they embitter +every hour of his after-life. His whole care and study being not +correction, but concealment, he lives a life of daily duplicity; the +fear of detection is over him at every step he takes; and he plays a +part so constantly that he loses all real character at last in the +frequency of dissimulation. Shall I tell you a little incident with +which I became acquainted in early life. If you have nothing better to +do, it may while away the hours before dinner.’ + + + +CHAPTER XIII. THE ABBE’S STORY + +‘Without tiring you with any irrelevant details of the family and +relatives of my hero, if I dare call him such, I may mention that he was +the second son of an old Belgian family of some rank and wealth, and +that in accordance with the habits of his house he was educated for the +career of diplomacy. For this purpose, a life of travel was deemed the +best preparation--foreign languages being the chief requisite, with such +insight into history, national law, and national usages as any young man +with moderate capacity and assiduity can master in three or four years. + +‘The chief of the Dutch mission at Frankfort was an old diplomat of some +distinction, but who, had it not been from causes purely personal +towards the king, would not have quitted The Hague for any embassy +whatever. He was a widower, with an only daughter--one of those true +types of Dutch beauty which Terburg was so fond of painting. There are +people who can see nothing but vulgarity in the class of features I +speak of, and yet nothing in reality is farther from it. Hers was a +mild, placid face, a wide, candid-looking forehead, down either side of +which two braids of sunny brown hair fell; her skin, fair as alabaster, +had the least tinge of colour, but her lips were full, and of a carmine +hue, that gave a character of brilliancy to the whole countenance; her +figure inclined to embonpoint, was exquisitely moulded, and in her walk +there appeared the composed and resolute carriage of one whose +temperament, however mild and unruffled, was still based on principles +too strong to be shaken. She was indeed a perfect specimen of her +nation, embodying in her character the thrift, the propriety, the high +sense of honour, the rigid habits of order, so eminently Dutch; but +withal there ran through her nature the golden thread of romance, and +beneath that mild eyebrow there were the thoughts and hopes of a highly +imaginative mind. + +‘The mission consisted of an old secretary of embassy, Van Dohein, a +veteran diplomat of some sixty years, and Edward Norvins, the youth I +speak of. Such was the family party, for you are aware that they all +lived in the same house, and dined together every day--the _attachés_ of +the mission being specially intrusted to the care and attention of the +head of the mission, as if they were his own children. Norvins soon fell +in love with the pretty Marguerite. How could it be otherwise? They were +constantly together; he was her companion at home, her attendant at +every ball; they rode out together, walked, read, drew, and sang +together, and in fact very soon became inseparable. In all this there +was nothing which gave rise to remark. The intimate habits of a mission +permitted such; and as her father, deeply immersed in affairs of +diplomacy, had no time to busy himself about them, no one else did. The +secretary had followed the same course at every mission for the first +ten years of his career, and only deemed it the ordinary routine of an +_attachés_ life. + +‘Such, then, was the pleasant current of their lives, when an event +occurred which was to disturb its even flow--ay, and alter the channel +for ever. A despatch arrived one morning at the mission, informing them +that a certain Monsieur von Halsdt, a son of one of the ministers, who +had lately committed some breach of discipline in a cavalry regiment, +was about to be attached to the mission. Never was such a shock as +Marguerite and her lover sustained. To her the idea of associating with +a wild, and unruly character like this was insupportable. To him it was +misery; he saw at once all his daily intimacy with her interrupted; he +perceived how their former habits could no longer be followed--that with +this arrival must cease the companionship that made him the happiest of +men. Even the baron himself was indignant at the arrangement to saddle +him with a _vaurien_ to be reclaimed; but then he was the minister’s +son. The king himself had signed the appointment, and there was no help +for it. + +‘It was indeed with anything but feelings of welcome that they awaited +the coming of the new guest. Even in the short interval between his +appointment and his coming, a hundred rumours reached them of his +numerous scrapes and adventures, his duels, his debts, his gambling, and +his love exploits. All of course were duly magnified. Poor Marguerite +felt as though an imp of Satan was about to pay them a visit, and +Norvins dreaded him with a fear that partook of a presentiment. + +‘The day came, and the dinner-hour, in respect for the son of the great +man, was delayed twenty minutes in expectation of his coming; and they +went to table at last without him, silent and sad--the baron, annoyed at +the loss of dignity he should sustain by a piece of politeness exercised +without result; the secretary, fretting over the _entrées_ that were +burned; Marguerite and Edward, mourning over happiness never to return. +Suddenly a _calèche_ drove into the court at full gallop, the steps +rattled, and a figure wrapped in a cloak sprang out. Before the first +surprise permitted them to speak, the door of the _salle_ opened, and he +appeared. + +‘It would, I confess, have been a difficult matter to fix on that +precise character of looks and appearances which might have pleased all +the party. Whatever were the sentiments of others I know not, but +Norvins’ wishes would have inclined to see him short and ill-looking, +rude in speech and gesture--in a word, as repulsive as possible. It is +indeed a strange thing--you must have remarked it, I’m certain--that the +disappointment we feel at finding people we desire to like inferior to +our own conceptions of them, is not one-half so great as is our chagrin +at discovering those we are determined to dislike very different from +our preconceived notions, with few or none of the features we were +prepared to find fault with, and, in fact, altogether unlike the bugbear +we had created for ourselves. One would suppose that such a revulsion in +feeling would be pleasurable rather than otherwise. Not so, however; a +sense of our own injustice adds poignancy to our previous prejudice, and +we dislike the object only the more for lowering us in our own esteem. + +‘Van Halsdt was well calculated to illustrate my theory. He was tall and +well made; his face, dark as a Spaniard’s (his mother was descended from +a Catalonian family), was manly-looking and frank, at once indicating +openness of temperament, and a dash of heroic daring that would like +danger for itself alone; his carriage had the easy freedom of a soldier, +without anything bordering on coarseness or effrontery. Advancing with a +quiet bow, he tendered his apologies for being late, rather as a matter +he owed to himself, to excuse his want of punctuality, than from any +sense of inconvenience to others, and ascribed the delay to the +difficulty of finding post-horses. “While waiting, therefore,” said he, +“I resolved to economise time, and so dressed for dinner at the last +stage.” + +‘This apology at least showed a desire on his part to be in time, and at +once disposed the secretary in his favour. The baron himself spoke +little; and as for Marguerite, she never opened her lips to him the +whole time of dinner; and Norvins could barely get out the few +commonplaces of table, and sat eyeing him from time to time with an +increasing dislike. + +‘Van Halsdt could not help feeling that his reception was of the +coldest; yet either perfectly indifferent to the fact, or resolved to +overcome their impressions against him, he talked away unceasingly of +everything he could think of--the dinners at court, the theatres, the +diplomatic soirées, the news from foreign countries, all of which he +spoke of with knowledge and intimacy. Yet nothing could he extract in +return. The old baron retired, as was his wont, immediately after +dinner; the secretary dropped off soon after; Marguerite went to take +her evening drive on the boulevards; and Norvins was left alone with his +new comrade. At first he was going to pretend an engagement. Then the +awkwardness of the moment came forcibly before him, and he sat still, +silent and confused. + +‘“Any wine in that decanter?” said Van Halsdt, with a short abrupt tone, +as he pointed to the bottle beside him. “Pray pass it over here. I have +only drunk three glasses. I shall be better aware to-morrow how soon +your party breaks up here.” + +‘“Yes,” said Edward timidly, and not well knowing what to say. “The +baron retires to his study every evening at seven.” + +‘“With all my heart,” said he gaily; “at six, if he prefer it, and he +may even take the old secretary with him. But the mademoiselle, shall we +see any more of her during the evening? Is there no salon? Eh, what do +you do after dinner?” + +‘“Why, sometimes we drive, or we walk out on the boulevards; the other +ministers receive once or twice a week, and then there’s the opera.” + +‘“Devilishly slow you must find all this,” said Van Halsdt, filling a +bumper, and taking it off at a draught. “Are you long here?” + +‘“Only three months.” + +‘“And well sick of it, I ‘ll be sworn.” + +‘“No, I feel very happy; I like the quiet.” + +‘“Oh dear! oh dear!” said he, with a long groan, “what is to become of +me?” + +‘Norvins heartily wished he could have replied to the question in the +way he would have liked; but he said nothing. + +‘“It’s past eight.” said Van Halsdt, as he perceived him stealing a look +at his watch. “Never mind me, if you’ve any appointment; I ‘ll soon +learn to make myself at home here. Perhaps you’d better ring for some +more claret, however, before you go; they don’t know me yet.” + +‘Edward almost started from his chair at this speech. Such a liberty had +never before been heard of as to call for more wine; indeed, it was not +their ordinary habit to consume half what was placed on the table; but +so taken by surprise was he, that he actually rose and rang the bell, as +he was desired. + +‘“Some claret, Johann,” said he with a gulp, as the old butler entered. + +‘The man started back, and fixed his eyes on the empty decanter. + +‘“And I say, ancient,” said Van Halsdt, “don’t decant it; you shook the +last bottle confoundedly. It’s old wine, and won’t bear that kind of +usage.” + +‘The old man moved away with a deep sigh, and returned in about ten +minutes with a bottle from the cellar. + +‘“Didn’t Providence bless you with two hands, friend?” said Van Halsdt. +“Go down for another.” + +‘“Go, Johann,” said Norvins, as he saw him hesitate, and not knowing +what his refusal might call forth; and then, without waiting for further +parley, he arose and withdrew. + +‘“Well,” thought he, when he was once more alone, “if he is a good- +looking fellow, and there’s no denying _that_, one comfort is, he is a +confirmed drunkard. Marguerite will never be able to endure him”; for +such, in his secret heart, was the reason of his premature dislike and +dread of his new companion; and as he strolled along he meditated on the +many ways he should be able to contrast his own acquirements with the +other’s deficiencies, for such he set them down at once, and gradually +reasoned himself into the conviction that the fear of all rivalry from +him was mere folly; and that whatever success his handsome face and +figure might have elsewhere, Marguerite was not the girl to be caught by +such attractions, when coupled with an unruly temper and an uneducated +mind. + +‘And he was right. Great as his own repugnance was towards Van Halsdt, +hers was far greater. She not only avoided him on every occasion, but +took pleasure, as it seemed, in marking the cold distance of her manner +to him, and contrasting it with her behaviour to others. It is true he +appeared to care little for this; and only replied to it by a half- +impertinent style of familiarity--a kind of jocular intimacy most +insulting to a woman, and horribly tantalising for those to witness who +are attached to her. + +‘I don’t wish to make my story a long one; nor could I without entering +into the details of everyday life, which now became so completely +altered. Marguerite and Norvins met only at rare intervals, and then +less to cultivate each other’s esteem than expatiate on the many +demerits of him who had estranged them so utterly. All the reports to +his discredit that circulated in Frankfort were duly conned over; and +though they could lay little to his charge of their own actual +knowledge, they only imagined the more, and condemned him accordingly. + +‘To Norvins he became hourly more insupportable. There was in all his +bearing towards him the quiet, measured tone of a superior to an +inferior, the patronising protection of an elder to one younger and less +able to defend himself--and which, with the other’s consciousness of his +many intellectual advantages over him, added double bitterness to the +insult. As he never appeared in the bureau of the mission, nor in any +way concerned himself with official duties, they rarely met save at +table; there, his appearance was the signal for constraint and reserve - +-an awkwardness that made itself felt the more, as the author of it +seemed to exult in the dismay he created. + +‘Such, then, was the state of events when Norvins received his +nomination as secretary of legation at Stuttgart. The appointment was a +surprise to him; he had not even heard of the vacancy. The position, +however, and the emoluments were such as to admit of his marrying; and +he resolved to ask the baron for his daughter’s hand, to which the rank +and influence of his own family permitted him to aspire without +presumption. + +‘The baron gave his willing consent; Marguerite accepted; and the only +delay was now caused by the respect for an old Dutch custom--the bride +should be at least eighteen, and Marguerite yet wanted three months of +that age. This interval Norvins obtained leave to pass at Frankfort; and +now they went about to all public places together as betrothed; paid +visits in company, and were recognised by all their acquaintances as +engaged to each other. + +‘Just at this time a French cuirassier regiment marched into garrison in +the town; they were on their way to the south of Germany, and only +detained in Frankfort to make up their full complement of horses. In +this regiment was a young Dutch officer, who once belonged to the same +regiment as Van Halsdt, and who was broke by the court-martial for the +same quarrel. They had fought twice with swords, and only parted with +the dire resolve to finish the affair at the next opportunity. This +officer was a man of an inferior class, his family being an obscure one +of North Holland; and thus, when dismissed the service, he had no other +resource than to enter the French army, at that time at war with +Austria. He was said to be a man of overbearing temper and passion, and +it was not likely that the circumstance of his expatriation and disgrace +had improved him. However, some pledge Van Halsdt had made to his father +decided him in keeping out of the way. The report ran that he had given +a solemn promise never to challenge nor accept any challenge from the +other on any pretext whatsoever. Whatever the promise, certain it was he +left Frankfort the same day the regiment marched into town, and retired +to Wiesbaden. + +‘The circumstance soon became the subject of town gossip, and plenty +there were most willing to attribute Van Halsdt’s departure to +prudential motives, rather than to give so wild a character any credit +for filial ones. Several who felt offended at his haughty, supercilious +manner now exulted in this, as it seemed, fall to his pride; and +Norvins, unfortunately, fell into the same track, and by many a sly +innuendo and half allusion to his absence gave greater currency to the +report that his absence was dictated by other considerations than those +of parental respect. + +‘Through all the chit-chat of the time, Marguerite showed herself highly +indignant at Van Halsdt’s conduct. The quiet timid girl, who detested +violence and hated crime in any shape, felt disgusted at the thought of +his poltroonery, and could not hear his name mentioned without an +expression of contempt. All this delighted Edward; it seemed to be the +just retribution on the former insolence of the other, and he longed for +his return to Frankfort to witness the thousand slights that awaited +him. + +‘Such a strange and unaccountable thing is our triumph over others for +the want of those qualities in which we see ourselves deficient. No one +is so loud in decrying dishonesty and fraud as the man who feels the +knave in his own heart. Who can censure female frailty like her who has +felt its sting in her own conscience? You remember the great traveller, +Mungo Park, used to calculate the depths of rivers in Africa by rolling +heavy stones over their banks and watching the air-bubbles that mounted +to the surface; so, oftentimes, may you measure the innate sense of a +vice by the execration some censor of morals bestows upon it. Believe +me, these heavy chastisements of crime are many times but the cries of +awakened conscience. I speak strongly, but I feel deeply on this +subject. + +‘But to my story. It was the custom for Marguerite and her lover each +evening to visit the theatre, where the minister had a box; and as they +were stepping into the carriage one night as usual, Van Halsdt drove up +to the door and asked if he might accompany them. Of course, a refusal +was out of the question; he was a member of the mission; he had done +nothing to forfeit his position there, however much he had lost in the +estimation of society generally; and they acceded to his request, still +with a species of cold courtesy that would, by any other man, have been +construed into a refusal. + +‘As they drove along in silence, the constraint increased at every +moment, and had it not been for the long-suppressed feeling of hated +rivalry, Norvins could have pitied Van Halsdt as he sat, no longer with +his easy smile of self-satisfied indifference, but with a clouded, heavy +brow, mute and pale. As for Marguerite, her features expressed a species +of quiet, cold disdain whenever she looked towards him, far more +terrible to bear than anything like an open reproach. Twice or thrice he +made an effort to start some topic of conversation, but in vain; his +observations were either unreplied to, or met a cold, distant assent +more chilling still. At length, as if resolved to break through their +icy reserve towards him, he asked in a tone of affected indifference-- + +‘“Any changes in Frankfort, mademoiselle, since I had the pleasure of +seeing you last?” + +‘“None, sir, that I know of, save that the French cuirassier regiment +marched this morning for Baden, _of which, however, it is more than +probable you are aware already_.” + +‘On each of these latter words she laid an undue stress, fixing her eyes +steadfastly on him, and speaking in a slow, measured tone. He grew +deeply red, almost black for a moment or two; his moustache seemed +almost to bristle with the tremulous convulsion that shook his upper +lip; then as suddenly he became lividly pale, while the great drops of +perspiration stood on his brow, and fell upon his cheek. Not another +word was spoken. They soon reached the theatre, when Norvins offered +Marguerite his arm, Van Halsdt slowly following them upstairs. + +‘The play was one of Lessing’s and well acted; but somehow Norvins could +pay no attention to the performance, his whole soul being occupied by +other thoughts. Marguerite appeared to him in a different light from +what he had ever seen her--not less to be loved, but altogether +different. The staid, placid girl, whose quiet thoughts seemed never to +rest on topics of violent passion or excitement, who fled from the very +approach of anything bordering on overwrought feeling, now appeared +carried away by her abhorrence of a man to the very extreme of hatred +for conduct which Norvins scarcely thought she should have considered +even faulty. If, then, his triumph over Van Halsdt brought any pleasure +to his heart, a secret sense of his own deficiency in the very quality +for which she condemned him made him shudder. + +‘While he reflected thus, his ear was struck with a conversation in the +box next his, in which were seated a large party of young men, with two +or three ladies, whose air, dress, and manners were at least somewhat +equivocal. ‘“And so, Alphonse, you succeeded after all?” said a youth to +a large, powerful, dark-moustached man, whose plain blue frock could not +conceal the soldier. + +‘“Yes,” replied he, in a deep sonorous voice; “our doctor managed the +matter for me. He pronounced me unable to march before to-morrow; he +said that my old wound in the arm gave symptoms of uneasiness, and +required a little more rest. But, by Saint Denis, I see little benefit +in the plan, after all. This ‘white feather’ has not ventured back, and +I must leave in the morning without meeting him.” + +‘These words, which were spoken somewhat loudly, could be easily heard +in any part of the adjoining box; and scarcely were they uttered when +Van Halsdt, who sat the entire evening far back, and entirely concealed +from view, covered his face with both hands, and remained in that +posture for several minutes. When he withdrew them, the alteration in +his countenance was actually fearful. Though his cheeks were pale as +death, his eyes were bloodshot, and the lids swelled and congested; his +lips, too, were protruded, and trembled like one in an ague, and his +clasped hands shook against the chair. + +‘Norvins would have asked him if he were ill, but was afraid even to +speak to him, while again his attention was drawn off by the voices near +him. + +‘“Not got a bouquet?” said the large man to a lady beside him; “_pardi_, +that’s too bad. Let me assist you. I perceive that this pretty damsel, +who turns her shoulder so disdainfully towards us, makes little use of +hers, and so _avec permission_, mademoiselle!” With that he stood up, +and leaning across the division into their box, stretched over his hand +and took the bouquet that lay before Marguerite, and handed it to the +lady at his side. + +‘Marguerite started back, as her eyes flashed with offended pride, and +then turned them on her lover. He stood up, not to resent the insult, +but to offer her his arm to leave the box. She gave him a look: never in +a glance was there read such an expression of withering contempt; and +drawing her shawl around her, she said in a low voice, “The carriage.” + Before Edward could open the box door to permit her to pass out, Van +Halsdt sprang to the front of the box, and stretched over. Then came a +crash, a cry, a confused shout of many voices together, and the word +_polisson_ above all; but hurrying Marguerite along, Norvins hastened +down the stairs and assisted her into the carriage. As she took her +place, he made a gesture as if to follow, but she drew the door towards +her, and with a shuddering expression, “No!” leaned back, and closed the +door. The _calèche_ moved on, and Norvins was alone in the street. + +‘I shall not attempt to describe the terrific rush of sensations that +came crowding on his brain. Coward as he was, he would have braved a +hundred deaths rather than endure such agony. He turned towards the +theatre, but his craven spirit seemed to paralyse his very limbs; he +felt as if were his antagonist before him, he would not have had energy +to speak to him. Marguerite’s look was ever before him; it sank into his +inmost soul; it was burning there like a fire, that no memory nor after +sorrow should ever quench. + +‘As he stood thus, an arm was passed hastily through his, and he was led +along. It was Van Halsdt, his hat drawn over his brows, and a slight +mark of blood upon his cheek. He seemed so overwhelmed with his own +sensations as not to be cognisant of his companion’s. + +‘“I struck him,” said he, in a thick guttural voice, the very breathings +of vengeance--“I struck him to my feet. It is now _à la mort_ between +us, and better it should be _so_ at once.” As he spoke thus he turned +towards the boulevard, instead of the usual way towards the embassy. +‘“We are going wrong,” said Norvins--“this leads to the Breiten gasse.” + +‘“I know it,” was the brief reply; “we must make for the country; the +thing was too public not to excite measures of precaution. We are to +rendezvous at Katznach.” ‘“With swords?” + +‘“No; pistols, _this time_.” said he, with a fiendish emphasis on the +last words. + +‘They walked on for above an hour, passing through the gate of the town, +and reaching the open country, each silent and lost in his own thoughts. + +‘At a small cabaret they procured horses and a guide to Katznach, which +was about eleven miles up the mountain. The way was so steep that they +were obliged to walk their horses, and frequently to get down and lead +them; yet not a word was spoken on either side. Once, only, Norvins +asked how he was to get his pistols from Frankfort; to which the other +answered merely, “They provide the weapons!” and they were again silent. + +‘Norvins was somewhat surprised, and offended also, that his companion +should have given him so little of his confidence at such a moment; +gladly, indeed, would he have exchanged his own thoughts for those of +any one else, but he left him to ruminate in silence on his unhappy +position, and to brood over miseries that every minute seemed to +aggravate. + +‘“They’re coming up the road yonder; I see them now,” said Van Halsdt +suddenly, as he aroused the other from a deep train of melancholy +thoughts. “Ha! how lame he walks!” cried he, with savage exultation. + +‘In a few minutes the party, consisting of four persons, dismounted from +their horses, and entered the little burial-ground beside the chapel. +One of them advancing hastily towards Van Halsdt, shook him warmly by +the hand, and whispered something in his ear. The other replied; when +the first speaker turned towards Norvins with a look of ineffable scorn +and then passed over to the opposite group. Edward soon perceived that +this man was to act as Halsdt’s friend; and though really glad that such +an office fell not to his share, he was deeply offended on being thus, +as it were, passed over. In this state of dogged anger he sat down on a +tombstone, and, as if having no interest whatever in the whole +proceedings, never once looked towards them. + +‘Norvins did not notice that the party now took the path towards the +wood, nor was he conscious of the flight of time, when suddenly the loud +report of two pistols, so close together as to be almost blended, rang +through his ears. Then he sprang up, a dreadful pang piercing his bosom, +some terrible sense of guilt he could neither fathom nor explain +flashing across him. At the same instant the brushwood crashed behind +him, and Van Halsdt and his companion came out; the former with his eyes +glistening and his cheek flushed, the other pale and dreadfully +agitated. He nodded towards Edward significantly, and Van Halsdt said, +“Yes.” + +‘Before Norvins could conjecture what this meant, the stranger +approached him, and said-- + +‘“I am sorry, sir, the sad work of this morning cannot end here; but of +course you are prepared to afford my friend the only reparation in your +power.” + +‘“Me! reparation! what do you mean? Afford whom?” + +‘“Monsieur van Halsdt,” said he coolly, and with a slight emphasis of +contempt as he spoke. + +‘“Monsieur van Halsdt! he never offended _me_; I never insulted, never +injured _him_,” said Edward, trembling at every word. + +‘“Never injured me!” cried Van Halsdt. “Is it nothing that you have +ruined me for ever; that your cowardice to resent an affront offered to +one who should have been dearer than your life, a hundred times told, +should have involved me in a duel with a man I swore never to meet, +never to cross swords nor exchange a shot with? Is it nothing that I am +to be disgraced by my king, disinherited by my father--a beggar and an +exile at once? Is it nothing, sir, that the oldest name of Friesland is +to be blotted from the nobles of his nation? Is it nothing that for you +I should be _what I now am?_” + +‘The last words were uttered in a voice that made Norvins, very blood +run cold; but he could not speak, he could not mutter a word in answer. + +‘“What!” said Van Halsdt, in an accent of cutting sarcasm, “I thought +that perhaps in the suddenness of the moment your courage, unprepared +for an unexpected call, might not have stood your part; but can it be +true that you are a coward? Is this the case?” + +‘Norvins hung down his head; the sickness of death was on him. The +dreadful pause was broken at last; it was Van Halsdt who spoke-- + +‘“Adieu, sir; I grieve for you. I hope we may never meet again; yet let +me give you a counsel ere we part. There is but one coat men can wear +with impunity when they carry a malevolent and a craven spirit; you can +be a------“’ + +‘Monsieur l’Abbé, the dinner is on the table,’ said a servant, entering +at this moment of the story. + +‘_Ma foi_, and so it is,’ said he, looking gaily at his watch, as he +rose from his chair. + +‘But mademoiselle,’ said I, ‘what became of her?’ + +‘Ah, Marguerite: she was married to Van Halsdt in less than three +months. The cuirassier fortunately recovered from his wounds; the duel +was shown to be a thing forced by the stress of consequences. As for Van +Halsdt, the king forgave him, and he is now ambassador at Naples.’ + +‘And the other, Norvins?--though I scarcely feel any interest in him.’ + +‘I’m sorry for it,’ said he, laughing; ‘but won’t you move forward?’ + +With that he made me a polite bow to precede him towards the dinner- +room, and followed me with the jaunty step and the light gesture of an +easy and contented nature. + +I need scarcely say that I did not sit next the abbé that day at dinner; +on the contrary, I selected the most stupid-looking old man I could find +for my neighbour, hugging myself in the thought, that, where there is +little agreeability, Nature may kindly have given in recompense some +traits of honesty and some vestiges of honour. Indeed, such a disgust +did I feel for the amusing features of the pleasantest part of the +company, and so inextricably did I connect repartee with rascality, that +I trembled at every good thing I heard, and stole away early to bed, +resolving never to take sudden fancies to agreeable people as long as I +lived--an oath which a long residence in a certain country that shall be +nameless happily permits me to keep, with little temptation to +transgress. + +The next morning was indeed a brilliant one--the earth refreshed by +rain, the verdure more brilliant, the mountain streams grown fuller; all +the landscape seemed to shine forth in its gladdest features. I was up +and stirring soon after sunrise; and with all my prejudices against such +a means of ‘lengthening one’s days,’ I sat at my window, actually +entranced with the beauty of the scene. Beyond the river there rose a +heath-clad mountain, along which misty masses of vapour swept hurriedly, +disclosing as they passed some tiny patch of cultivation struggling for +life amid granite rocks and abrupt precipices. As the sun grew stronger, +the grey tints became brown and the brown grew purple, while certain +dark lines that tracked their way from summit to base began to shine +like silver, and showed the course of many a mountain torrent tumbling +and splashing towards that little lake that lay calm as a mirror below. +Immediately beneath my window was the garden of the château-- a +succession of terraces descending to the very river. The quaint yew +hedges carved into many a strange device, the balustrades half hidden by +flowering shrubs and creepers, the marble statues peeping out here and +there, trim and orderly as they looked, were a pleasant feature of the +picture, and heightened the effect of the desolate grandeur of the +distant view. The very swans that sailed about on the oval pond told of +habitation and life, just as the broad expanded wing that soared above +the mountain peak spoke of the wild region where the eagle was king. + +My musings were suddenly brought to a close by a voice on the terrace +beneath. It was that of a man who was evidently, from his pace, enjoying +his morning’s promenade under the piazza of the château, while he hummed +a tune to pass away the time:-- + + +‘“Why, soldiers, why Should we be melancholy, boys? Why, soldiers, why? +Whose business----” + +Holloa, there, François, ain’t they stirring yet? Why, it’s past six +o’clock!’ + +The person addressed was a serving-man, who in the formidable attire of +an English groom--in which he was about as much at home as a coronation +champion feels in plate armour--was crossing the garden towards the +stables. + +‘No, sir; the count won’t start before eight.’ + +‘And when do we breakfast?’ + +‘At seven, sir.’ + +‘The devil! another hour-- + + +“Why, soldiers, why Should we be-----” + +I say, François, what horse do they mean for Mademoiselle Laura to-day?’ + +‘The mare she rode on Wednesday, sir. Mademoiselle liked her very much.’ + +‘And what have they ordered for the stranger that came the night before +last--the gentleman who was robbed----’ + +‘I know, I know, sir; the roan, with the cut on her knee.’ + +‘Why, she’s a mad one! she’s a runaway!’ + +‘So she is, sir; but then monsieur is an Englishman, and the count says +he ‘ll soon tame the roan filly.’ + + +‘“Why, soldiers, why-----“’ + +hummed the old colonel, for it was Muddleton himself; and the groom +pursued his way without further questioning. Whereupon two thoughts took +possession of my brain: one of which was, what peculiar organisation it +is which makes certain old people who have nothing to do early risers; +the other, what offence had I committed to induce the master of the +château to plot my sudden death. + +The former has been a puzzle to me all my life. What a blessing should +sleep be to that class of beings who do nothing when awake; how they +should covet those drowsy hours that give, as it were, a sanction to +indolence; with what anxiety they ought to await the fall of day, as +announcing the period when they become the equals of their fellow-men; +and with what terror they should look forward to the time when the busy +world is up and stirring, and their incapacity and slothfulness only +become more glaring from contrast! Would not any one say that such +people would naturally cultivate sleep as their comforter? Should they +not hug their pillow as the friend of their bosom? On the contrary, +these are invariably your early risers. Every house where I have ever +been on a visit has had at least one of these troubled and troublesome +spirits--the torment of Boots, the horror of housemaids. Their chronic +cough forms a duet with the inharmonious crowing of the young cock, who +for lack of better knowledge proclaims day a full hour before his time. +Their creaking shoes are the accompaniment to the scrubbing of brass +fenders and the twigging of carpets, the jarring sounds of opening +shutters and the cranking discord of a hall door chain; their heavy step +sounds like a nightmare’s tread through the whole sleeping house. And +what is the object of all this? What new fact have they acquired; what +difficult question have they solved; whom have they made happier or +wiser or better? Not Betty the cook, certainly, whose morning levée of +beggars they have most unceremoniously scattered and scared; not Mary +the housemaid, who, unaccustomed to be caught _en déshabillé_, is cross +the whole day after, though he was ‘only an elderly gentleman, and wore +spectacles’; not Richard, who cleaned their shoes by candle-light; nor +the venerable butler, who from shame’s sake is up and dressed, but who, +still asleep, stands with his corkscrew in his hand, under the vague +impression that it is a late supper-party. + +These people, too, have always a consequential, self-satisfied look +about them; they seem to say they know a ‘thing or two’ others have no +wot of--as though the day, more confidential when few were by, told them +some capital secrets the sleepers never heard of, and they made this +pestilential habit a reason for eating the breakfast of a Cossack, as if +the consumption of victuals was a cardinal virtue. Civilised differs +from savage life as much by the regulation of time as by any other +feature. I see no objection to your red man, who probably can’t go to +breakfast till he has caught a bear, being up betimes; but for the +gentleman who goes to bed with the conviction that hot rolls and coffee, +tea and marmalade, bloaters and honey, ham, muffins, and eggs await him +at ten o’clock--for him, I say, these absurd vagabondisms are an +insufferable affectation, and a most unwarrantable liberty with the +peace and privacy of a household. + +Meanwhile, old Colonel Muddleton is parading below; and here we must +leave him for another chapter. + + + +CHAPTER XIV. THE CHASE + +I wish any one would explain to me why it is that the tastes and +pursuits of nations are far more difficult of imitation than their +languages or institutions. Nothing is more common than to find Poles and +Russians speaking half the tongues of Europe like natives. Germans +frequently attain to similar excellence; and some Englishmen have the +gift also. In the same way it would not be difficult to produce many +foreigners well acquainted with all the governmental details of the +countries they have visited--the policy, foreign and domestic; the +statistics of debt and taxation; the religious influences; the +resources, and so forth. Indeed, in our days of universal travel, this +kind of information has more or less become general, while the tastes +and habits, which appear so much more easily acquired, are the subjects +of the most absurd mistakes, or the most blundering imitation. To +instance what I mean, who ever saw any but a Hungarian dance the mazurka +with even tolerable grace? Who ever saw waltzing except among the +Austrians? Who ever beheld ‘toilette’ out of France? So it is, however. +Some artificial boundary drawn with a red line on a map by the hand of +Nesselrode or Talleyrand, some pin stuck down in the chart by the +fingers of Metternich, decides the whole question, and says, ‘Thus far +shalt thou dance and no farther. Beyond this there are no _pâtés de +Perigord_. Here begin pipes and tobacco; there end macaroni and music.’ + +Whatever their previous tastes, men soon conform to the habits of a +nation, and these arbitrary boundaries of the gentlemen of the red tape +become like Nature’s own frontiers of flood or mountain. Not but it must +have been somewhat puzzling in the good days of the Consulate and the +Empire to trim one’s sails quick enough for the changes of the political +hurricane. You were an Italian yesterday, you are a Frenchman to-day; +you went to bed a Prussian, and you awoke a Dutchman. These were sore +trials, and had they been pushed much further, must have led to the most +strange misconceptions and mistakes. + +Now, with a word of apology for the digression, let me come back to the +cause of it--and yet why should I make my excuses on this head? These +‘Loiterings’ of mine are as much in the wide field of dreamy thought as +over the plains and valleys of the material world. I never promised to +follow a regular track, nor did I set out on my journey bound, like a +king’s messenger, to be at my destination in a given time. Not a bit of +it. I ‘ll take ‘mine ease in mine inn.’ I’ll stay a week, a fortnight-- +ay, a month, here, if I please it. You may not like the accommodation, +nor wish to put up with a ‘settle and stewed parsnips.’ Be it so. Here +we part company then. If you don’t like my way of travel, there’s the +diligence, or, if you prefer it, take the extra post, and calculate, if +you can, how to pay your postillion in kreutzers--invented by the devil, +I believe, to make men swear--and for miles, that change with every +little grand-duchy of three acres in extent. I wish you joy of your +travelling companions--the German who smokes, and the Frenchman who +frowns at you; the old _vrau_ who falls asleep on your shoulder, and the +_bonne_ who gives you a baby to hold in your lap. But why have I put +myself into this towering passion? Heaven knows it’s not my wont. And +once more to go back, and find, if I can, what I was thinking of. I have +it. This same digression of mine was _apropos_ to the scene I witnessed, +as our breakfast concluded at the château. + +All the world was to figure on horseback--the horses themselves no bad +evidence of the exertions used to mount the party. Here was a rugged +pony from the Ardennes, with short neck and low shoulder, his head broad +as a bull’s, and his counter like the bow of a Dutch galliot; there, a +great Flemish beast, seventeen hands high, with a tail festooned over a +straw ‘bustle,’ and even still hanging some inches on the ground-- +straight in the shoulder, and straighter in the pasterns, giving the +rider a shock at every motion that to any other than a Fleming would +lead to concussion of the brain. Here stood an English thoroughbred, +sadly ‘shook’ before, and with that tremulous quivering of the forelegs +that betokens a life of hard work; still, with all his imperfections, +and the mark of a spavin behind, he looked like a gentleman among a +crowd of low fellows--a reduced gentleman it is true, but a gentleman +still; his mane was long and silky, his coat was short and glossy, his +head finely formed, and well put on his long, taper, and well-balanced +neck. Beside him was a huge Holsteiner, flapping his broad flanks with a +tail like a weeping ash--a great massive animal, that seemed from his +action as if he were in the habit of ascending stairs, and now and then +got the shock one feels when they come to a step too few. Among the mass +there were some ‘Limousins’--pretty, neatly formed little animals, with +great strength for their appearance, and showing a deal of Arab +breeding--and an odd Schimmel or two from Hungary, snorting and pawing +like a war-horse; but the staple was a collection of such screws as +every week are to be seen at Tattersall’s auction, announced as ‘first- +rate weight-carriers with any foxhounds, fast in double and single +harness, and “believed” sound by the owner.’ + +Well, what credulous people are the proprietors of horses! These are the +great exports to the Low Countries, repaid in mock Van Dycks, apocryphal +Rembrandts, and fabulous Hobbimas, for the exhibition of which in our +dining-rooms and libraries we are as heartily laughed at as they are for +their taste in manners equine. And in the same way exactly as we insist +upon a great name with our landscape or our battle, so your Fleming must +have a pedigree with his hunter. There must be ‘dam to Louisa,’ and ‘own +brother to Ratcatcher’ and Titus Oates, that won the ‘Levanter Handicap’ +in--no matter where. Oh dear, oh dear! when shall we have sense enough +to go without Snyders and Ostade? And when will Flemings be satisfied to +ride on beasts which befit them--strong of limb, slow of gait, dull of +temper, and not over-fastidious in feeding; whose parentage has had no +registry, and whose blood relations never were chronicled? + +Truly, England is the land of ‘turn-out.’ All the foreign imitations of +it are most ludicrous--from Prince Max of Bavaria, who brought back with +him to Munich a lord-mayor’s coach, gilding, emblazonry, wigs, and all, +as the true type of a London equipage, down to those strange merry- +andrew figures in orange-plush breeches and sky-blue frocks, that one +sees galloping after their masters along the Champs Élysées, like insane +comets taking an airing on horseback. The whole thing is absurd. They +cannot accomplish it, do what they will; there’s no success in the +endeavour. It is like our miserable failures to get up a _petit dîner_ +or a _soirée_. If, then, French, Italians, and Germans fail so +lamentably, only think, I beseech you, of Flemings--imagine Belgium _à +cheval_! The author of _Hudibras_ discovered years ago that these people +were fish; that their land-life was a little bit of distraction they +permitted themselves to take from time to time, but that their real +element was a dyke or a canal. What would he have said had he seen them +on horseback? + +Now, I am free to confess that few men have less hope to win the world +by deeds of horsemanship than Arthur O’Leary. I have ever looked upon it +as a kind of presumption in me to get into the saddle. I have regarded +my taking the reins as a species of duplicity on my part--a tacit +assumption that I had any sort of control oyer the beast. I have +appeared to myself guilty of a moral misdemeanour--the ‘obtaining a ride +under false pretences.’ Yet when I saw myself astride of the ‘roan with +the cut on her knee,’ and looked around me at the others, I fancied that +I must have taken lessons from Franconi without knowing it; and even +among the moustached heroes of the evening before, I bore myself like a +gallant cavalier. + +‘You sit your horse devilish like your father; he had just the same easy +_dégagé_ way in his saddle,’ said the old colonel, tapping his snuff- +box, and looking at me with a smile of marked approval; while he +continued in a lower tone, ‘I ‘ve told Laura to get near you if the mare +becomes troublesome. The Flemings, you know, are not much to boast of as +riders.’ + +I acknowledged the favour as well as I could, for already my horse was +becoming fidgety--every one about me thinking it essential to spur and +whip his beast into the nearest approach to mettle, and caper about like +so many devils, while they cried out to one another-- + +‘Regardez, Charles, comment il est vif ce “Tear away.” C’est une bête du +diable. Ah, tiens, tiens, vois donc “Albert.” Le voilà, c’est, “All-in- +my-eye,” fils de “Charles Fox,” frère de “Sevins-de-main.”’ + +‘Ah, marquis, how goes it? Il est beau votre cheval.’ + +‘Oui, parbleu; he is frère aîné of “Kiss-mi-ladi,” qui a gagné le +handicap à l’Ile du Dogs.’ + +And thus did these miserable imitators of Ascot and Doncaster, of +Leamington and the Quorn, talk the most insane nonsense, which had been +told to them by some London horse-dealer as the pedigree of their +hackneys. + +It was really delightful amid all this to look at the two English girls, +who sat their horses so easily and so gracefully. Bending slightly with +each curvet, they only yielded to the impulse of the animal as much as +served to keep their own balance; the light but steady finger on the +bridle, the air of quiet composure, uniting elegance with command. What +a contrast to the distorted gesture, the desperate earnestness, and the +fearful tenacity of their much-whiskered companions! And yet it was to +please and fascinate these same pinchbeck sportsmen that these girls +were then there. If they rode over everything that day--fence or rail, +brook or bank--it was because the _chasse_ to them was less _au cerf_ +than _au mari_. + +Such was the case. The old colonel had left England because he preferred +the Channel to the fleet; the glorious liberty which Englishmen are so +proud of would have been violated in his person had he remained. His +failing, like many others, was that he had lived ‘not wisely, but too +well’; and, in short, however cold the climate, London would have proved +too hot for him had he stayed another day in it. + +What a deluge of such people float over the Continent, living well and +what is called ‘most respectably’; dining at embassies and dancing at +courts; holding their heads very high, too--most scrupulous about +acquaintances, and exclusive in all their intimacies! They usually +prefer foreign society to that of their countrymen, for obvious reasons. +Few Frenchmen read the _Gazette_. I never heard of a German who knew +anything about the list of outlaws. Of course they have no more to say +to English preserves, and so they take out a license to shoot over the +foreign manors; and though a marquis or a count are but ‘small deer,’ +it’s the only game left, and they make the best of it. + +At last the host appeared, attired in a scarlet frock, and wearing a +badge at his button-hole something about the shape and colour of a new +penny-piece. He was followed by above a dozen others, similarly habited, +minus the badge; and then came about twenty more, dressed in green +frocks, with red collars and cuffs--a species of smaller deities, who I +learned were called ‘Aspirants,’ though to what they aspired, where it +was, or when they hoped for it, nobody could inform me. Then there were +_piqueurs_ and grooms and whippers-in without number, all noisy and all +boisterous--about twenty couple of fox-hounds giving tongue, and a due +proportion of the scarlet folk blowing away at that melodious pipe, the +_cor de chasse_. + +With this goodly company I moved forward, ‘alone, but in a crowd’; for, +unhappily, my want of tact as a sporting character the previous evening +had damaged me seriously with the hunting youths, and Mademoiselle Laura +showed no desire to accept the companionship her worthy father had +selected for her. ‘No matter,’ thought I, ‘there’s a great deal to see +here, and I can do without chatting in so stirring a scene as this.’ + +Her companion was the Comte d’Espagne, an admirable specimen of what the +French call ‘Tigre’; for be it known that the country which once +obtained a reputation little short of ludicrous for its excess of +courtesy and the surplusage of its ceremony, has now, in the true spirit +of reaction, adopted a degree of abruptness we should call rudeness, and +a species of cold effrontery we might mistake for insolence. The +disciples of this new school are significantly called ‘Young France,’ +and are distinguished for length of hair and beard, a look of frowning +solemnity and mock preoccupation, very well-fitting garments and yellow +gloves. These gentlemen are sparing of speech, and more so of gesture. +They give one to understand that some onerous deed of regeneration is +expected at their hands, some revival of the old spirit of the nation; +though in what way it is to originate in curled moustaches and lacquered +boots is still a mystery to the many. But enough of them now; only of +these was the Comte d’Espagne. + +I had almost forgotten to speak of one part of our cortége, which should +certainly not be omitted. This was a wooden edifice on wheels, drawn by +a pair of horses at a brisk rate at the tail of the procession. At first +it occurred to me that it might be an ambulant dog-kennel, to receive +the hounds on their return. Then I suspected it to be a walking hospital +for wounded sportsmen; and certainly I could not but approve of the +idea, as I called to mind the position of any unlucky _chasseur_, in the +event of a fall, with his fifteen feet of ‘metal main’ around him, and I +only hoped that a plumber accompanied the expedition. My humanity, +however, led me astray; the pagoda was destined for the accommodation of +a stag, who always assisted at the _chasse_, whenever no other game +could be started. This venerable beast, some five-and-twenty years in +the service, was like a stock piece in the theatres, which, always +ready, could be produced without a moment’s notice. Here was no +rehearsal requisite if a prima donna was sulky or a tenor was drunk; if +the fox wouldn’t show or the deer were shy, there was the stag, +perfectly prepared for a pleasant canter of a few miles, and ready, if +no one was intemperately precipitate, to give a very agreeable morning’s +sport. His perfections, however, went further than this; for he was +trained to cross the highroad at all convenient thoroughfares, +occasionally taking the main streets of a village or the market-place of +a bourg, swimming whenever the water was shallow enough to follow him on +horseback, and giving up the ghost at the blast of a _grand maître’s_ +bugle with an accuracy as unerring as though he had performed at +Franconi’s. + +Unhappily for me, I was not fated to witness an exhibition of his +powers; for scarcely had we emerged from the wood when the dogs were +laid on, and soon after found a fox. + +For some time the scene was an animated one, as every Fleming seemed to +pin his faith on some favourite dog; and it was rather amusing to +witness the eagerness with which each followed the movements of his +adopted animal, cheering him on, and encouraging him to the top of his +bent. At last the word ‘Away’ was given, and suddenly the dogs broke +cover, and made across the plain in the direction of a great wood, or +rather forest, above a mile off. The country, happily for most of us (I +know it was so for me), was an open surface of gentle undulation, +stubble and turnips the only impediments, and clay soft enough to make a +fall easy. + +The sight was so far exhilarating that red coats in a gallop have always +a pleasant effect; besides which, the very concourse of riders looks +well. However, even as unsportsmanlike an eye as mine could detect the +flaws in jockeyship about me--the fierce rushings of the gentlemen who +pushed through the deepest ground with a loose rein, flogging manfully +the while; the pendulous motions of others between the mane and the +haunches, with every stride of the beast. + +But I had little time for such speculations; the hour of my own trial +was approaching. The roan was getting troublesome, the pace was +gradually working up her mettle; and she had given three or four +preparatory bounds, as though to see whether she’d part company with me +before she ran away or not. My own calculations at the moment were not +very dissimilar; I was meditating a rupture of the partnership too. The +matrix of a full-length figure of Arthur O’Leary in red clay was the +extent of any damage I could receive, and I only looked for a convenient +spot where I might fall unseen. As I turned my head on every side, +hoping for some secluded nook, some devil of a hunter, by way of +directing the dogs, gave a blast of his brass instrument about a hundred +yards before me. The thing was now settled; the roan gave a whirl of her +long vicious tail, plunged fearfully, and throwing down her head and +twisting it to one side, as if to have a peep at my confusion, away she +went. From having formed one of the rear-guard, I now closed up with the +main body--‘aspirants’ all--through whom I dashed like a catapult, and +notwithstanding repeated shouts of ‘Pull in, sir!’ ‘Hold back!’ etc, I +continued my onward course; a few seconds more and I was in the thick of +the scarlet coats, my beast at the stretch of her speed, and caring +nothing for the bridle. Amid a shower of _sacrés_ that fell upon me like +hail, I sprang through them, making the ‘red ones’ black with every +stroke of my gallop. Leaving them far behind, I flew past the _grand +maître_ himself, who rode in the van, almost upsetting him by a side +spring, as I passed--a malediction reaching me as I went; but the forest +soon received me in its dark embrace, and I saw no more. + +It was at first a source of consolation to me to think that every stride +removed me from the reach of those whose denunciations I had so +unfortunately incurred; _grand maître, chasseurs_, and ‘aspirants’--they +were all behind me. Ay, for that matter, so were the dogs and the +_piqueurs_, and, for aught I knew, the fox with them. When I discovered, +however, that the roan continued her speed still unabated, I began to be +somewhat disconcerted. It was true the ground was perfectly smooth and +safe--a long _allée_ of the wood, with turf shorn close as a pleasure- +ground. I pulled and sawed the bit, I jerked the bridle, and performed +all the manual exercise I could remember as advised in such extremities, +but to no use. It seemed to me that some confounded echo started the +beast, and incited her to increased speed. Just as this notion struck +me, I heard a voice behind cry out-- + +‘Do hold in! Try and hold in, Mr. O’Leary!’ I turned my head, and there +was Laura, scarce a length behind, her thoroughbred straining every +sinew to come up. No one else was in sight, and there we were, galloping +like mad, with the wood all to ourselves. + +I can very well conceive why the second horse in a race does his best to +get foremost, if it were only the indulgence of a very natural piece of +curiosity to see what the other has been running for; but why the first +one only goes the faster because there are others behind him, that is a +dead puzzle to me. But so it was; my ill-starred beast never seemed to +have put forth her full powers till she was followed. _Ventre à terre_, +as the French say, was now the pace; and though from time to time Laura +would cry out to me to hold back, I could almost swear I heard her +laughing at my efforts. Meanwhile the wood was becoming thicker and +closer, and the _allée_ narrower and evidently less travelled. Still it +seemed to have no end or exit; scarcely had we rounded one turn when a +vista of miles would seem to stretch away before us, passing over which, +another, as long again, would appear. + +After about an hour’s hard galloping, if I dare form any conjecture as +to the flight of time, I perceived with a feeling of triumph that the +roan was relaxing somewhat in her stride; and that she was beginning to +evince, by an up-and-down kind of gait, what sailors call a ‘fore-and +aft’ motion, that she was getting enough of it. I turned and saw Laura +about twenty yards behind--her thoroughbred dead beat, and only able to +sling along at that species of lobbing canter blood-cattle can +accomplish under any exigency. With a bold effort I pulled up short, and +she came alongside of me; and before I could summon courage to meet the +reproaches I expected for having been the cause of her runaway, she +relieved my mind by a burst of as merry and good-tempered laughter as +ever I listened to. The emotion was contagious, and so I laughed too, +and it was full five minutes before either of us could speak. + +‘Well, Mr. O’Leary, I hope you know where we are,’ said she, drying her +eyes, where the sparkling drops of mirth were standing, ‘for I assure +you I don’t.’ + +‘Oh, perfectly,’ replied I, as my eye caught a board nailed against a +tree, on which some very ill-painted letters announced ‘La route de +Bouvigne’--‘we are on the highroad to Bouvigne, wherever that may be.’ + +‘Bouvigne!’ exclaimed she, in an accent of some alarm; ‘why, it’s five +leagues from the château! I travelled there once by the highroad. How +are we ever to get back?’ + +That was the very question I was then canvassing in my own mind, without +a thought of how it was to be solved. However, I answered with an easy +indifference, ‘Oh, nothing easier; we ‘ll take a _calèche_ at Bouvigne.’ + +‘But they ‘ve none.’ + +‘Well, then, fresh horses.’ + +‘There’s not a horse in the place; it’s a little village near the Meuse, +surrounded with tall granite rocks, and only remarkable for its ruined +castle, the ancient schloss of Philip de Bouvigne.’ + +‘How interesting!’ said I, delighted to catch at anything which should +give the conversation a turn; ‘and who was Philip de Bouvigne?’ + +‘Philip,’ said the lady, ‘was the second or third count, I forget which, +of the name. The chronicles say that he was the handsomest and most +accomplished youth of the time. Nowhere could he meet his equal at joust +or tournament; while his skill in arms was the least of his gifts--he +was a poet and a musician. In fact, if you were only to believe his +historians, he was the most dangerous person for the young ladies of +those days to meet with. Not that he ran away with them, _sur la grande +route_.’ As she said this, a burst of laughing stopped her; and it was +one I could really forgive, though myself the object of it. ‘However,’ +resumed she, ‘I believe he was just as bad. Well, to pursue my story, +when Philip was but eighteen, it chanced that a party of warriors bound +for the Holy Land came past the Castle of Bouvigne, and of course passed +the night there. From them, many of whom had already been in Palestine, +Philip heard the wondrous stories the crusaders ever brought back of +combats and encounters, of the fearful engagements with the infidels and +the glorious victories of the Cross. And at length, so excited did his +mind become by the narrations, that he resolved on the spot to set out +for the Holy Land, and see with his own eyes the wonderful things they +had been telling him. + +‘This resolution could not fail of being applauded by the rest, and by +none was it met with such decided approval as by Henri de Bethune, a +young Liégeois, then setting out on his first crusade, who could not +help extolling Philip’s bravery, and above all his devotion in the great +cause, in quitting his home and his young and beautiful wife; for I must +tell you, as indeed I ought to have told you before, he had been but a +few weeks married to the lovely Alice de Franchemont, the only daughter +of the old Graf de Franchemont, of whose castle you may see the ruins +near Chaude Fontaine.’ + +I nodded assent, and she went on. + +‘Of course you can imagine the dreadful grief of the young countess when +her husband broke to her his determination. If I were a novelist I’d +tell you of tears and entreaties and sighs and faintings, of promises +and pledges and vows, and so forth; for, indeed, it was a very sorrowful +piece of business, as she didn’t at all fancy passing some three or four +years alone in the old keep at Bouvigne, with no society, not one single +friend to speak to. At first, indeed, she would not hear of it; and it +was only at length when Henri de Bethune undertook to plead for him--for +he kindly remained several days at the château, to assist his friend at +this conjuncture--that she gave way, and consented. Still, her consent +was wrung from her against her convictions, and she was by no means +satisfied that the arguments she yielded to were a whit too sound. And +this, let me remark, _en passant_, is a most dangerous species of +assent, when given by a lady; and one she always believes to be +something of the nature of certain Catholic vows, which are only binding +while you believe them reasonable and just.’ + +‘Is that really so?’ interrupted I. ‘Do you, indeed, give me so low a +standard of female fidelity as this?’ + +‘If women are sometimes false,’ replied she, ‘it is because men are +never true; but I must go on with my tale.--Away went Count Philip, and +with him his friend De Bethune--the former, if the fact were known, just +as low-spirited, when the time came, as the countess herself. But, then, +he had the double advantage that he had a friend to talk with and make +participator of his sorrows, besides being the one leaving, not left.’ + +‘I don’t know,’ interrupted I at this moment, ‘that you are right there; +I think that the associations which cling to the places where we have +been happy are a good requital for the sorrowful memories they may call +up. I ‘d rather linger around the spot consecrated by the spirit of past +pleasure, and dream over again, hour by hour, day by day, the bliss I +knew there, than break up the charm of such memories by the vulgar +incidents of travel and the commonplace adventures of a journey.’ + +‘There I differ from you completely,’ replied she. ‘All your reflections +and reminiscences, give them as fine names as you will, are nothing but +sighings and repinings for what cannot come back again; and such things +only injure the temper, and spoil the complexion, whereas---- But what +are you laughing at?’ + +‘I was smiling at your remark, which has only a feminine application.’ + +‘How teasing you are! I declare I ‘ll argue no more with you. Do you +want to hear my story?’ + +‘Of all things; I ‘m greatly interested in it.’ + +‘Well, then, you must not interrupt me any more. Now, where was I? You +actually made me forget where I stopped.’ + +‘You were just at the point where they set out, Philip and his friend, +for the Holy Land.’ + +‘You must not expect from me any spirit-stirring narrative of the events +in Palestine. Indeed, I’m not aware if the _Chronique de Flandre_, from +which I take my tale, says anything very particular about Philip de +Bouvigne’s performances. Of course they were in accordance with his +former reputation: he killed his Saracens, like a true knight--that +there can be no doubt of. As for Henri de Bethune, before the year was +over he was badly wounded, and left on the field of battle, where some +said he expired soon after, others averring that he was carried away to +slavery. Be that as it might, Philip continued his career with all the +enthusiasm of a warrior and a devotee, a worthy son of the Church, and a +brave soldier--unfortunately, however, forgetting the poor countess he +had left behind him, pining away her youth at the barred casements of +the old château; straining her eyes from day to day along the narrow +causeway that led to the castle, and where no charger’s hoof re-echoed, +as of old, to tell of the coming of her lord. Very bad treatment, you +‘ll confess; and so, with your permission, we’ll keep her company for a +little while. Madame la Comtesse de Bouvigne, as some widows will do, +only become the prettier from desertion. Her traits of beauty mellowed +by a tender melancholy, without being marked too deeply by grief, +assumed an imaginative character, or what men mistake for it.’ + +‘Indeed!’ said I, catching at the confession. + +‘Well, I’m sure it is so,’ replied she. ‘In the great majority of cases +you are totally ignorant of what is passing in a woman’s mind. The girl +that seemed all animation to-day may have an air of deep depression to- +morrow, and of downright wildness the next, simply by changing her +coiffure from ringlets to braids, and from a bandeau to a state of +dishevelled disorder. A little flattery of yourselves, artfully and well +done, and you are quite prepared to believe anything. In any case, the +countess was very pretty and very lonely. + +‘In those good days when gentlemen left home, there were neither +theatres nor concerts to amuse their poor neglected wives; they had no +operas nor balls nor soirées nor promenades. No; their only resource was +to work away at some huge piece of landscape embroidery, which, begun in +childhood, occupied a whole life, and transmitted a considerable labour +of background and foliage to the next generation. The only pleasant +people in those times, it seems to me, were the _jongleurs_ and the +pilgrims; they went about the world fulfilling the destinies of +newspapers; they chronicled the little events of the day--births, +marriages, deaths, etc.--and must have been a great comfort on a +winter’s evening. + +‘Well, it so chanced that as the countess sat at her window one evening, +as usual, watching the sun go down, she beheld a palmer coming slowly +along up the causeway, leaning on his staff, and seeming sorely tired +and weary---- + +‘But see,’ cried Laura, at this moment, as we gained the crest of a +gentle acclivity, ‘yonder is Bouvigne; it is a fine thing even yet.’ + +We both reined in our horses, the better to enjoy the prospect; and +certainly it was a grand one. Behind us, and stretching for miles in +either direction, was the great forest we had been traversing; the old +Ardennes had been a forest in the times of Caesar, its narrow pathways +echoing to the tread of Roman legions. In front was a richly cultivated +plain, undulating gently towards the Meuse, whose silver current wound +round it like a garter--the opposite bank being formed by an abrupt wall +of naked rocks of grey granite, sparkling with its brilliant hues, and +shining doubly in the calm stream at its foot. On one of the highest +cliffs, above an angle of the river, and commanding both reaches of the +stream for a considerable way, stood Bouvigne. Two great square towers +rising above a battlemented wall, pierced with long loopholes, stood out +against the clear sky; one of them, taller than the other, was +surmounted by a turret at the angle, from the top of which something +projected laterally, like a beam. + +‘Do you see that piece of timber yonder?’ said Laura. ‘Yes,’ said I; +‘it’s the very thing I’ve been looking at, and wondering what it could +mean.’ + +‘Carry your eye downward,’ said she, ‘and try if you can’t make out a +low wall connecting two masses of rock together, far, far down: do you +see it?’ + +‘I see a large archway, with some ivy over it.’ ‘That’s it; that was the +great entrance to the schloss; before it is the fosse--a huge ditch cut +in the solid rock, so deep as to permit the water of the Meuse, when +flooded, to flow into it. Well, now, if you look again, you ‘ll see that +the great beam above hangs exactly over that spot. It was one of the +rude defences of the time, and intended, by means of an iron basket +which hung from its extremity, to hurl great rocks and stones upon any +assailant. The mechanism can still be traced by which it was moved back +and loaded; the piece of rope which opened the basket at each discharge +of its contents was there not many years ago. There’s a queer, uncouth +representation of the _panier de la mort_, as it is called, in the +_Chronique_, which you can see in the old library at Rochepied. But here +we are already at the ferry.’ + +As she spoke we had just reached the bank of the Meuse, and in front was +a beautifully situated little village, which, escarped in the mountain, +presented a succession of houses at different elevations, all looking +towards the stream. They were mostly covered with vines and +honeysuckles, and with the picturesque outlines of gable and roof, +diamond windows and rustic porches, had a very pleasing effect. + +As I looked, I had little difficulty in believing that they were not a +very equestrian people--the little pathways that traversed their village +being inaccessible save to foot-passengers, frequently ascending by +steps cut in the rock, or by rude staircases of wood which hung here and +there over the edge of the cliff in anything but a tempting way, the +more so, as they trembled and shook with every foot that passed over +them. Little mindful of this, the peasants might now be seen leaning +over their frail barriers, and staring at the unwonted apparition of two +figures on horseback, while I was endeavouring, by signs and gestures, +to indicate our wish to cross over. + +At last a huge raft appeared to move from beneath the willows of the +opposite bank, and by the aid of a rope fastened across the stream two +men proceeded slowly to ferry the great platform over. Leading our +horses cautiously forward, we embarked in this frail craft, and landed +safely in Bouvigne. + + + +CHAPTER XV. A NARROW ESCAPE + +‘Will you please to tell me, Mr. O’Leary,’ said Laura, in the easy tone +of one who asked for information’s sake, ‘what are your plans here; for +up to this moment I only perceive that we have been increasing the +distance between us and Rochepied.’ + +‘Quite true,’ said I; ‘but you know we agreed it was impossible to hope +to find our way back through the forest. Every _allée_ here has not only +its brother, but a large family, so absolutely alike no one could +distinguish between them; we might wander for weeks without extricating +ourselves.’ + +‘I know all that,’ said she somewhat pettishly; ‘still my question +remains unanswered. What do you mean to do here?’ + +‘In the first place,’ said I, with the affected precision of one who had +long since resolved on his mode of proceeding, ‘we ‘ll dine.’ + +I stopped here to ascertain her sentiments on this part of my +arrangement. She gave a short nod, and I proceeded. ‘Having dined,’ said +I, ‘we’ll obtain horses and a calèche, if such can be found, for +Rochepied.’ + +‘I ‘ve told you already there are no such things here. They never see a +carriage of any kind from year’s end to year’s end; and there is not a +horse in the whole village.’ + +‘Perhaps, then, there may be a château near, where, on making known our +mishap, we might be able----’ + +‘Oh, that’s very simple, as far as you ‘re concerned,’ said she, with a +saucy smile; ‘but I’d just as soon not have this adventure published +over the whole country.’ + +Ha! by Jove, thought I, there’s a consideration completely overlooked by +me; and so I became silent and thoughtful, and spoke not another word as +we led our horses up the little rocky causeway towards the ‘Toison +d’Or.’ + +If we did not admire the little _auberge_ of the ‘Golden Fleece,’ truly +the fault was rather our own than from any want of merit in the little +hostelry itself. Situated on a rocky promontory on the river, it was +built actually over the stream--the door fronting it, and approachable +by a little wooden gallery, along which a range of orange-trees and +arbutus was tastefully disposed, scenting the whole air with their +fragrance. As we walked along we caught glimpses of several rooms +within, neatly and even handsomely furnished--and of one salon in +particular, where books and music lay scattered on the tables, with that +air of habitation so pleasant to look on. + +So far from our appearance in a neighbourhood thus remote and secluded +creating any surprise, both host and hostess received us with the most +perfect ease, blended with a mixture of cordial civility very acceptable +at the moment. + +‘We wish to dine at once,’ said I, as I handed Laura to a chair. + +‘And to know in what way we can reach Rochepied,’ said she; ‘our horses +are weary and not able for the road.’ + +‘For the dinner, mademoiselle, nothing is easier; but as to getting +forward to-night----’ + +‘Oh, of course I mean to-night--at once.’ + +‘Ah, voilà,’ said he, scratching his forehead in bewilderment; ‘we’re +not accustomed to that, never. People generally stop a day or two; some +spend a week here, and have horses from Dinant to meet them.’ + +‘A week here!’ exclaimed she; ‘and what in Heaven’s name can they do +here for a week?’ + +‘Why, there’s the château, mademoiselle--the château of Philip de +Bouvigne, and the gardens terraced in the rock; and there’s the well of +St. Sèvres, and the Ile de Notre Dame aux bois; and then there’s such +capital fishing in the stream, with abundance of trout.’ + +‘Oh, delightful, I’m sure,’ said she impatiently; ‘but we wish to get +on. So just set your mind to that, like a worthy man.’ + +‘Well, we’ll see what can be done,’ replied he; ‘and before dinner’s +over, perhaps I may find some means to forward you.’ + +With this he left the room, leaving mademoiselle and myself _tête-à- +tête_. And here let me confess, never did any man feel his situation +more awkwardly than I did mine at that moment; and before any of my +younger and more ardent brethren censure me, let me at least ‘show +cause’ in my defence. First, I myself, however unintentionally, had +brought Mademoiselle Laura into her present embarrassment; but for me +and the confounded roan she had been at that moment cantering away +pleasantly with the Comte d’Espagne beside her, listening to his +_fleurettes_ and receiving his attentions. Secondly, I was, partly from +bashfulness, partly from fear, little able to play the part my present +emergency demanded, which should either have been one of downright +indifference and ease, or something of a more tender nature, which +indeed the very pretty companion of my travels might have perfectly +justified. + +‘Well,’ said she, after a considerable pause, ‘this is about the most +ridiculous scrape I’ve ever been involved in. What _will_ they think at +the château?’ + +‘If they saw your horse when he bolted----’ + +‘Of course they did,’ said she; ‘but what could they do? The Comte +d’Espagne is always mounted on a slow horse: _he_ couldn’t overtake me; +then the _maîtres_ couldn’t pass the grand maître.’ + +‘What!’ cried I, in amazement; ‘I don’t comprehend you perfectly.’ + +‘It’s quite clear, nevertheless,’ replied she; ‘but I see you don’t know +the rules of the _chasse_ in Flanders.’ + +With this she entered into a detail of the laws of the hunting-field, +which more than once threw me into fits of laughter. It seemed, then, +that the code decided that each horseman who followed the hounds should +not be left to the wilfulness of his horse or the aspirings of his +ambition, as to the place he occupied in the chase. It was no momentary +superiority of skill or steed, no display of jockeyship, no blood that +decided this momentous question. No; that was arranged on principles far +less vacillating and more permanent at the commencement of the hunting +season, by which it was laid down as a rule that the _grand maître_ was +always to ride first. His pace might be fast or it might be slow, but +his place was there. After him came the _maîtres_, the people in +scarlet, who in right of paying double subscription were thus costumed +and thus privileged; while the ‘aspirants’ in green followed last, their +smaller contribution only permitting them to see so much of the sport as +their respectful distance opened to them--and thus that indiscriminate +rush, so observable in our hunting-fields, was admirably avoided and +provided against. It was no headlong piece of reckless daring, no +impetuous dash of bold horsemanship; on the contrary, it was a decorous +and stately canter--not after hounds, but after an elderly gentleman in +a red coat and a brass tube, who was taking a quiet airing in the +pleasing delusion that he was hunting an animal unknown. Woe unto the +man who forgot his place in the procession! You might as well walk into +dinner before your host, under the pretence that you were a more nimble +pedestrian. + +Besides this, there were subordinate rules to no end. Certain notes on +the _cor de chasse_ were royalties of the _grand maître_; the _maîtres_ +possessed others as their privileges which no ‘aspirant’ dare venture +on. There were quavers for one, and semiquavers for the other; and, in +fact, a most complicated system of legislation comprehended every +incident, and I believe every accident, of the sport, so much that I +can’t trust my memory as to whether the wretched ‘aspirants’ were not +limited to tumbling in one particular direction--which, if so, must have +been somewhat of a tyranny, seeing they were but men, and Belgians. + +‘This might seem all very absurd and very fabulous if I referred to a +number of years back; but when I say that the code still exists, in the +year of grace, 1856, what will they say at Melton or Grantham? So you +may imagine,’ said Laura, on concluding her description, which she gave +with much humour, ‘how manifold your transgressions have been this day. +You have offended the _grand maître, maîtres_, and aspirants, in one +_coup_; you have broken up the whole “order of their going.”’ + +‘And run away with the belle of the château,’ added I, _pour comble de +hardiesse_. She did not seem half to relish my jest, however; and gave a +little shake of the head, as though to say, ‘You’re not out of _that_ +scrape yet.’ + +Thus did we chat over our dinner, which was really excellent, the host’s +eulogy on the Meuse trout being admirably sustained by their merits; nor +did his flask of Haut-Brion lower the character of his cellar. Still no +note of preparation seemed to indicate any arrangements for our +departure; and although, sooth to say, I could have reconciled myself +wonderfully to the inconvenience of the Toison d’Or for the whole week +if necessary, Laura was becoming momentarily more impatient, as she +said-- + +‘_Do_ see if they are getting anything like a carriage ready, or even +horses; we can ride, if they’ll only get us animals.’ + +As I entered the little kitchen of the inn, I found my host stretched at +ease in a wicker chair, surrounded by a little atmosphere of smoke, +through which his great round face loomed like the moon in the grotesque +engravings one sees in old spelling-books. So far from giving himself +any unnecessary trouble about our departure, he had never ventured +beyond the precincts of the stove, contenting himself with a wholesome +monologue on the impossibility of our desires, and that great Flemish +consolation, that however we might chafe at first, time would calm us in +the end. + +After a fruitless interrogation about the means of proceeding, I asked +if there were no château in the vicinity where horses could be borrowed. + +He replied,’ No, not one for miles round.’ + +‘Is there no mayor in the village--where is he?’ + +‘I am the mayor,’ replied he, with a conscious dignity. + +‘Alas!’ thought I, as the functionary of Givet crossed my mind, ‘why did +I not remember that the mayor is always the most stupid of the whole +community?’ + +‘Then I think,’ said I, after a brief silence, ‘we had better see the +curé at once.’ + +‘I thought so,’ was the sententious reply. + +Without troubling my head why he ‘thought so,’ I begged that the curé +might be informed that a gentleman at the inn begged to speak with him +for a few minutes. + +‘The Père José, I suppose?’ said the host significantly. + +‘With all my heart,’ said I; ‘José or Pierre, it’s all alike to me.’ + +‘He is there in waiting this half-hour,’ said the host, pointing with +his thumb to a small salon off the kitchen. + +‘Indeed!’ said I; ‘how very polite the attention! I ‘m really most +grateful.’ + +With which, without delaying another moment, I pushed open the door, and +entered. + +The Père José was a short, ruddy, astute-looking man of about fifty, +dressed in the canonical habit of a Flemish priest, which from time and +wear had lost much of its original freshness. He had barely time to +unfasten a huge napkin, which he had tied around his neck during his +devotion to a great mess of vegetable soup, when I made my bow to him. + +‘The Père José, I believe?’ said I, as I took my seat opposite to him. + +‘That unworthy priest!’ said he, wiping his lips, and throwing up his +eyes with an expression not wholly devotional. + +‘Père José,’ resumed I, ‘a young lady and myself, who have just arrived +here with weary horses, stand in need of your kind assistance.’ Here he +pressed my hand gently, as if to assure me I was not mistaken in my man, +and I went on: ‘We must reach Rochepied to-night; now, will you try and +assist us at this conjuncture? We are complete strangers.’ + +‘Enough, enough!’ said he. ‘I’m sorry you are constrained for time. This +is a sweet little place for a few days’ sojourn. But if,’ said he, ‘it +can’t be, you shall have every aid in my power. I ‘ll send off to Poil +de Vache for his mule and car. You don’t mind a little shaking?’ said +he, smiling. + +‘It’s no time to be fastidious, _père_, and the lady is an excellent +traveller.’ + +‘The mule is a good beast, and will bring you in three hours, or even +less.’ So saying, he sat down and wrote a few lines on a scrap of paper, +with which he despatched a boy from the inn, telling him to make every +haste. ‘And now monsieur, may I be permitted to pay my respects to +mademoiselle?’ + +‘Most certainly, Père José; she will be but too happy to add her thanks +to mine for what you have done for us.’ + +‘Say rather, for what I am about to do,’ said he, smiling. + +‘The will is half the deed, father.’ + +‘A good adage, and an old,’ replied he, while he proceeded to arrange +his drapery, and make himself as presentable as the nature of his +costume would admit. + +‘This was a rapid business of yours,’ said he, as he smoothed down his +few locks at the back of his head. + +‘That it was, _père_--a regular runaway.’ + +‘I guessed as much,’ said he. ‘I said so, the moment I saw you at the +ferry.’ + +The _père_ is no bad judge of horse-flesh, thought I, to detect the +condition of our beasts at that distance. + +‘“There’s something for me,” said I to Madame Guyon. “Look yonder! See +how their cattle are blowing! They’ve lost no time, and neither will I.” + And with that I put on my gown and came up here.’ + +‘How considerate of you, _père_; you saw we should need your help.’ + +‘Of course I did,’ said he, chuckling. ‘Of course I did. Old Grégoire, +here, is so stupid and so indolent that I have to keep a sharp lookout +myself. But he’s the _maire_, and one can’t quarrel with him.’ + +‘Very true,’ said I. ‘A functionary has a hundred opportunities of doing +civil things, or the reverse.’ + +‘That’s exactly the case,’ said the _père_. ‘Without him we should have +no law on our side. It would be all _sous la cheminée_, as they say.’ + +The expression was new to me, and I imagined the good priest to mean, +that without the magistrature, respect for the laws might as well be ‘up +the chimney.’ + +‘And now, if you will allow me, we ‘ll pay our duty to the lady,’ said +the Père José, when he had completed his toilette to his satisfaction. + +When the ceremonial of presenting the _père_ was over I informed Laura +of his great kindness in our behalf, and the trouble he had taken to +provide us with an equipage. + +‘A sorry one, I fear, mademoiselle,’ interposed he, with a bow. ‘But I +believe there are few circumstances in life where people are more +willing to endure sacrifices.’ + +‘Then monsieur has explained to you our position?’ said Laura, half +blushing at the absurdity of the adventure. + +‘Everything, my dear young lady--everything. Don’t let the thought give +you any uneasiness, however. I listen to stranger stories every day. + +‘Taste that Haut-Brion, _père_,’ said I, wishing to give the +conversation a turn, as I saw Laura felt uncomfortable, ‘and give me +your opinion of it. To my judgment it seems excellent.’ + +‘And your judgment is unimpeachable in more respects than that,’ said +the _père_, with a significant look, which fortunately was not seen by +mademoiselle. + +Confound him, said I to myself; I must try another tack. ‘We were +remarking, Père José, as we came along that very picturesque river, the +Château de Bouvigne; a fine thing in its time, it must have been.’ + +‘You know the story, I suppose?’ said the père. + +‘Mademoiselle was relating it to me on the way, and indeed I am most +anxious to hear the dénouement.’ + +‘It was a sad one,’ said he slowly. ‘I’ll show you the spot where Henri +fell--the stone that marks the place.’ + +‘Oh, Père José,’ said Laura, ‘I must stop you--indeed I must--or the +whole interest of my narrative will be ruined. You forget that monsieur +has not heard the tale out.’ + +‘Ah! _ma foi_, I beg pardon--a thousand pardons. Mademoiselle, then, +knows Bouvigne?’ + +‘I ‘ve been here once before, but only part of a morning. I ‘ve seen +nothing but the outer court of the château and the _fosse du traître_.’ + +‘So, so; you know it all, I perceive,’ said he, smiling pleasantly. ‘Are +you too much fatigued for a walk that far?’ + +‘Shall we have time?’ said Laura; ‘that’s the question.’ + +‘Abundance of time. Jacob can’t be here for an hour yet, at soonest. And +if you allow me, I’ll give all the necessary directions before we leave, +so that you ‘ll not be delayed ten minutes on your return.’ + +While Laura went in search of her hat, I again proffered my thanks to +the kind _père_ for all his good nature, expressing the strong desire I +felt for some opportunity of requital. + +‘Be happy,’ said the good man, squeezing my hand affectionately; ‘that’s +the way you can best repay me.’ + +‘It would not be difficult to follow the precept in your society, Père +José,’ said I, overcome by the cordiality of the old man’s manner. + +‘I have made a great many so, indeed,’ said he. ‘The five-and-thirty +years I have lived in Bouvigne have not been without their fruit.’ + +Laura joined us here, and we took the way together towards the château, +the priest discoursing all the way on the memorable features of the +place, its remains of ancient grandeur, and the picturesque beauty of +its site. + +As we ascended the steep path which, cut in the solid rock, leads to the +château, groups of pretty children came flocking about us, presenting +bouquets for our acceptance, and even scattering flowers in our path. +This simple act of village courtesy struck us both much, and we could +not help feeling touched by the graceful delicacy of the little ones, +who tripped away ere we could reward them; neither could I avoid +remarking to Laura, on the perfect good understanding that seemed to +subsist between Père José and the children of his flock--the paternal +fondness on one side, and the filial reverence on the other. As we +conversed thus, we came in front of a great arched doorway, in a curtain +wall connecting two massive fragments of rock. In front lay a deep +fosse, traversed by a narrow wall, scarce wide enough for one person to +venture on. Below, the tangled weeds and ivy concealed the dark abyss, +which was full eighty feet in depth. + +‘Look up, now,’ said Laura; ‘you must bear the features of this spot in +mind to understand the story. Don’t forget where that beam projects--do +you mark it well?’ + +‘He’ll get a better notion of it from the tower,’ said the _père_, +‘Shall I assist you across?’ + +Without any aid, however, Laura trod the narrow pathway, and hasted +along up the steep and time-worn steps of the old tower. As we emerged +upon the battlements, we stood for a moment, overcome by the splendour +of the prospect. Miles upon miles of rich landscape lay beneath us, +glittering in the red, brown, and golden tints of autumn--that gorgeous +livery which the year puts on, ere it dons the sad-coloured mantle of +winter. The great forest, too, was touched here and there with that +light brown, the first advance of the season; while the river reflected +every tint in its calm tide, as though it also would sympathise with the +changes around it. + +While the Père José continued to point out each place of mark or note in +the vast plain, interweaving in his descriptions some chance bit of +antiquarian or historic lore, we were forcibly struck by the thorough +intimacy he possessed with all the features of the locality, and could +not help complimenting him upon it. + +‘Yes, ‘_ma foi_,’ said he, ‘I know every rock and crevice, every old +tree and rivulet for miles round. In the long life I have passed here, +each day has brought me among these scenes with some traveller or other; +and albeit they who visit us here have little thought for the +picturesque, few are unmoved by this peaceful and lovely valley. You’d +little suspect, mademoiselle, how many have passed through my hands +here, in these five-and-thirty years. I keep a record of their names, in +which I must beg you will kindly inscribe yours.’ + +Laura blushed at the proposition which should thus commemorate her +misadventure; while I mumbled out something about our being mere passing +strangers, unknown in the land. + +‘No matter for that,’ replied the inexorable father, ‘I’ll have your +names--ay, autographs too!’ + +‘The sun seems very low,’ said Laura, as she pointed to the west, where +already a blaze of red golden light was spreading over the horizon: ‘I +think we must hasten our departure.’ + +‘Follow me, then,’ said the _père_, ‘and I ‘ll conduct you by an easier +path than we came up by.’ + +With that he unlocked a small postern in the curtain wall, and led us +across a neatly-shaven lawn to a little barbican, where, again unlocking +the door, we descended a flight of stone steps into a small garden +terraced in the native rock. The labour of forming it must have been +immense, as every shovelful of earth was carried from the plain beneath; +and here were fruit-trees and flowers, shrubs and plants, and in the +midst a tiny _jet d’eau_, which, as we entered, seemed magically to +salute us with its refreshing plash. A little bench, commanding a view +of the river from a different aspect, invited us to sit down for a +moment. Indeed, each turn of the way seduced us by some beauty, and we +could have lingered on for hours. + +As for me, forgetful of the past, careless of the future, I was totally +wrapped up in the enjoyment of the moment, and Laura herself seemed so +enchanted by the spot that she sat silently gazing on the tranquil +scene, apparently lost in delighted reverie. A low, faint sigh escaped +her as she looked; and I thought I could see a tremulous motion of her +eyelid, as though a tear were struggling within it My heart beat +powerfully against my side. I turned to see where was the _père_. He had +gone. I looked again, and saw him standing on a point of rock far +beneath us, and waving his handkerchief as a signal to some one in the +valley. Never was there such a situation as mine; never was mortal man +so placed. I stole my hand carelessly along the bench till it touched +hers; but she moved not away--no, her mind seemed quite preoccupied. I +had never seen her profile before, and truly it was very beautiful. All +the vivacity of her temperament calmed down by the feeling of the +moment, her features had that character of placid loveliness which +seemed only wanting to make her perfectly handsome. I wished to speak, +and could not. I felt that if I could have dared to say ‘Laura,’ I could +have gone on bravely afterwards--but it would not come. ‘Amen stuck in +my throat.’ Twice I got half-way, and covered my retreat by a short +cough. Only think what a change in my destiny another syllable might +have caused! It was exactly as my second effort proved fruitless that a +delicious sound of music swelled up from the glen beneath, and floated +through the air--a chorus of young voices singing what seemed to be a +hymn. Never was anything more charming. The notes, softened as they rose +on high, seemed almost like a seraph’s song--now lifting the soul to +high and holy thoughts, now thrilling within the heart with a very +ecstasy of delight. At length they paused, the last cadence melted +slowly away, and all was still. + +We did not dare to move; when Laura touched my hand gently, and +whispered, ‘Hark! there it is again! And at the same instant the voices +broke forth, but into a more joyous measure. It was one of those sweet +peasant-carollings which breathe of the light heart and the simple life +of the cottage. The words came nearer and nearer as we listened, and at +length I could trace the refrain which closed each verse-- + + +‘Puisque l’herbe et la fleur parlent mieux que les mots, Puisque un aveu +d’amour s’exhale de la rose, Que le “ne m’oublie pas” de souvenir +s’arrose, Que le laurier dit Gloire! et cyprès sanglots.’ + +At last the wicket of the garden slowly opened, and a little procession +of young girls, all dressed in white, with white roses in their hair, +and each carrying bouquets in their hands, entered, and with steady step +came forward. We watched them attentively, believing that they were +celebrating some little devotional pilgrimage, when to our surprise they +approached where we sat, and with a low curtsy each dropped her bouquet +at Laura’s feet, whispering in a low silver voice as they passed, ‘May +thy feet always tread upon flowers!’ Ere we could speak our surprise and +admiration of this touching scene--for it was such, in all its +simplicity--they were gone, and the last notes of their chant were dying +away in the distance. + +‘How beautiful! how very beautiful!’ said Laura; ‘I shall never forget +this.’ + +‘Nor I,’ said I, making a desperate effort at I know not what avowal, +which the appearance of the _père_ at once put to flight. He had just +seen the boy returning along the river-side with the mule and cart, and +came to apprise us that we had better descend. + +‘It will be very late indeed before we reach Dinant,’ said Laura; ‘we +shall scarcely get there before midnight.’ + +‘Oh, you’ll be there much earlier. It is now past six; in less than ten +minutes you can be _en route_. I shall not cause you much delay.’ + +Ah, thought I, the good Father is still dreaming about his album; we +must indulge his humour, which, after all, is but a poor requital for +all his politeness. + +As we entered the parlour of the ‘Toison d’Or,’ we found the host in all +the bravery of his Sunday suit, with a light-brown wig, and stockings +blue as the heaven itself, standing waiting our arrival. The hostess, +too, stood at the other side of the door, in the full splendour of a +great quilted jupe, and a cap whose ears descended half-way to her +waist. On the table, in the middle of the room, were two wax-candles, of +that portentous size which we see in chapels. Between them there lay a +great open volume, which at a glance I guessed to be the priest’s album. +Not comprehending what the worthy host and hostess meant by their +presence, I gave a look of interrogation to the _père_, who quickly +whispered-- + +‘Oh, it is nothing; they are only the witnesses.’ + +I could not help laughing outright at the idea of this formality, nor +could Laura refrain either when I explained to her what they came for. +However, time passed; the jingle of the bells on the mules’ harness +warned us that our equipage waited, and I dipped the pen in the ink and +handed it to Laura. + +‘I wish he would excuse me from performing this ceremony,’ said she, +holding back; ‘I really am quite enough ashamed already.’ + +‘What says mademoiselle?’ inquired the _père_, as she spoke in English. + +I translated her remark, when he broke in, ‘Oh, you must comply; it’s +only a formality, but still every one does it.’ + +‘Come, come,’ said I, in English, ‘indulge the old man; he is evidently +bent on this whim, and let us not leave him disappointed.’ + +‘Be it so, then,’ said she; ‘on your head, Mr. O’Leary, be the whole of +this day’s indiscretion’; and so saying, she took the pen and wrote her +name, ‘Laura Alicia Muddleton.’ + +‘Now, then, for my turn,’ said I, advancing; but the _père_ took the pen +from her fingers and proceeded carefully to dry the writing with a scrap +of blotting-paper. + +‘On this side, monsieur,’ said he, turning over the page; ‘we do the +whole affair in orderly fashion, you see. Put your name there, with the +date and the day of the week.’ + +‘Will that do?’ said I, as I pushed over the book towards him, where +certainly the least imposing specimen of calligraphy the volume +contained now stood confessed. + +‘What a droll name!’ said the priest, as he peered at it through his +spectacles. ‘How do you pronounce it?’ + +While I endeavoured to indoctrinate the father into the mystery of my +Irish appellation, the mayor and the mayoress had both appended their +signatures on either page. + +‘Well, I suppose now we may depart at last,’ said Laura; ‘it’s getting +very late.’ + +‘Yes,’ said I, aloud; ‘we must take the road now; there is nothing more, +I fancy, Père José?’ + +‘Yes, but there is though,’ said he, laughing. + +At the same moment the galloping of horses and the rumble of wheels were +heard without, and a carriage drew up in the street. Down went the steps +with a crash; several people rushed along the little gallery, till the +very house shook with their tread. The door of the salon was now banged +wide, and in rushed Colonel Muddleton, followed by the count, the abbé, +and an elderly lady. + +‘Where is he?’--‘Where is she?’--‘Where is he?’--‘Where is she?’--‘Where +are they?’ screamed they, in confusion, one after the other. + +‘Laura! Laura!’ cried the old colonel, clasping his daughter in his +arms; ‘I didn’t expect this from you!’ + +‘Monsieur O’Leary, vous êtes un----’ + +‘Before the count could finish, the abbé interposed between us, and said +‘No, no! Everything may be arranged. Tell me, in one word, is it over?’ + +‘Is what over?’ said I, in a state two degrees worse than insanity--‘is +what over?’ + +‘Are you married?’ whispered he. + +‘No, bless your heart! never thought of it.’ + +‘Oh, the wretch!’ screamed the old lady, and went off into strong +kickings on the sofa. + + +‘It’s a bad affair,’ said the abbé, in a low voice; ‘take my advice-- +propose to marry her at once.’ + +‘Yes, _parbleu!_’ said the little count, twisting his moustaches in a +fierce manner; ‘there is but one road to take here.’ + +Now, though unquestionably but half an hour before, when seated beside +the lovely Laura in the garden of the château, such a thought would have +filled me with delight, the same proposition, accompanied by a threat, +stirred up all my indignation and resistance. + +Not on compulsion, said Sir John; and truly there was reason in the +speech. + +But, indeed, before I could reply, the attention of all was drawn +towards Laura herself, who from laughing violently at first had now +become hysterical, and continued to laugh and cry at intervals; and as +the old lady continued her manipulations with a candlestick on an oak +table near, while the colonel shouted for various unattainable remedies +at the top of his voice, the scene was anything but decorous--the abbé, +who alone seemed to preserve his sanity, having as much as he could do +to prevent the little count from strangling me with his own hands; such, +at least, his violent gestures seemed to indicate. As for the priest and +the mayor and the she-mayor, they had all fled long before. There +appeared now but one course for me, which was to fly also. There was no +knowing what intemperate act the count might commit under his present +excitement; it was clear they were all labouring under a delusion, which +nothing at the present moment could elucidate. A nod from the abbé and a +motion towards the open door decided my wavering resolution. I rushed +out, over the gallery and down the road, not knowing whither, nor +caring. + +I might as well try to chronicle the sensations of my raving intellect +in my first fever in boyhood as convey any notion of what passed through +my brain for the next two hours. I sat on a rock beside the river, +vainly endeavouring to collect my scattered thoughts, which only +presented to me a vast chaos of a wood and a crusader, a priest and a +lady, veal cutlets and music, a big book, an old lady in fits, and a man +in sky-blue stockings. The rolling near me of a carriage with four +horses aroused me for a second, but I could not well say why, and all +was again still, and I sat there alone. + +‘He must be somewhere near this,’ said a voice, as I heard the tread of +footsteps approaching; ‘this is his hat. Ah, here he is.’ At the same +moment the abbé stood beside me. ‘Come along, now; don’t stay here in +the cold,’ said he, taking me by the arm. ‘They’ve all gone home two +hours ago. I have remained to ride back the nag in the morning.’ + +I followed without a word. + +‘_Ma foi!_’ said he, ‘it is the first occasion in my life where I could +not see my way through a difficulty. What, in Heaven’s name, were you +about? What was your plan?’ + +‘Give me half an hour in peace,’ said I; ‘and if I’m not deranged before +it’s over, I’ll tell you.’ + +The abbé complied, and I fulfilled my promise--though in good sooth the +shouts of laughter with which he received my story caused many an +interruption. When I had finished, he began, and leisurely proceeded to +inform me that Bouvigne’s great celebrity was as a place for runaway +couples to get married; that the inn of the ‘Golden Fleece’ was known +over the whole kingdom, and the Père Jose’s reputation wide as the +Archbishop of Ghent’s; and as to the phrase ‘sous la cheminée’, it is +only applied to a clandestine marriage, which is called a ‘mariage sous +la cheminée.’ + +‘Now I,’ continued he, ‘can readily believe every word you ‘ve told me; +yet there’s not another person in Rochepied would credit a syllable of +it. Never hope for an explanation. In fact, before you would be listened +to, there are at least two duels to fight--the count first, and then +D’Espagne. I know Laura well; she ‘d let the affair have all its éclat +before she will say a word about it; and, in fact, your executors may be +able to clear your character--you ‘ll never do so in your lifetime. +Don’t go back there,’ said the abbé, ‘at least for the present.’ + +‘I’ll never set my eyes on one of them,’ cried I, in desperation. ‘I’m +nigh deranged as it is; the memory of this confounded affair----’ + +‘Will make you laugh yet,’ said the abbé. ‘And now good-night, or rather +good-bye: I start early to-morrow morning, and we may not meet again.’ + +He promised to forward my effects to Dinant, and we parted. + +‘Monsieur will have a single bed?’ said the housemaid, in answer to my +summons. + +‘Yes,’ said I, with a muttering I fear very like an oath. + +Morning broke in through the half-closed curtains, with the song of +birds and the ripple of the gentle river. A balmy gentle air stirred the +leaves, and the sweet valley lay in all its peaceful beauty before me. + +‘Well, well,’ said I, rubbing my eyes, ‘it was a queer adventure; and +there’s no saying what might have happened had they been only ten +minutes later. I’d give a napoleon to know what Laura thinks of it now. +But I must not delay here--the very villagers will laugh at me.’ + +I ate my breakfast rapidly and called for my bill. The sum was a mere +trifle, and I was just adding something to it when a knock came to the +door. + +‘Come in,’ said I, and the _père_ entered. + +‘How sadly unfortunate,’ began he, when I interrupted him at once, +assuring him of his mistake--telling him that we were no runaway couple +at all, had not the most remote idea of being married, and in fact owed +our whole disagreeable adventure to his ridiculous misconception. + +‘It’s very well to say that _now_,’ growled out the _père_, in a very +different accent from his former one. ‘You may pretend what you like, +but’--and he spoke in a determined tone--‘you’ll pay _my_ bill.’ + +‘_Your_ bill!’ said I, waxing wroth. ‘What have I had from you. How am I +_your_ debtor? I should like to hear.’ + +‘And you shall,’ said he, drawing forth a long document from a pocket in +his cassock. ‘Here it is.’ + +He handed me the paper, of which the following is a transcript:-- + + +NOCES DE MI LORD O’LEARY ET MADEMOISELLE MI LADY DE MUDDLETON. + + +FRANCS. + +Two conversations--preliminary, admonitory, and consolatory 10 0 + +Advice to the young couple, with moral maxims interspersed 3 0 + +Soirée, and society at wine 5 0 + +Guide to the château, with details, artistic and antiquarian 12 0 + +Eight children with flowers, at half a franc each 4 0 + +Fees at the château 2 0 + +Chorus of virgins, at one franc per virgin 10 0 + +Roses for virgins 2 10 + +M. le Maire et Madame ‘en grande tenue’ 1 0 + +Book of Registry, setting forth the date of the marriage----- + +‘The devil take it!’ said I; ‘it was no marriage at all.’ ‘Yes, but it +was, though,’ said he. ‘It’s your own fault if you can’t take care of +your wife.’ + +The noise of his reply brought the host and hostess to the scene of +action; and though I resisted manfully for a time, there was no use in +prolonging a hopeless contest, and, with a melancholy sigh, I disbursed +my wedding expenses, and with a hearty malediction on Bouvigne--its +château, its inn, its _père_, its _maire_, and its virgins--I took the +road towards Namur, and never lifted my head till I had left the place +miles behind me. + + + +CHAPTER XVI. A MOUNTAIN ADVENTURE + +It was growing late on a fine evening in autumn, as I, a solitary +pedestrian, drew near the little town of Spa. From the time of my +leaving Chaude Fontaine, I lingered along the road, enjoying to the +utmost the beautiful valley of the Vesdre, and sometimes half hesitating +whether I would not loiter away some days in one of the little villages +I passed, and see if the trout, whose circling eddies marked the stream, +might not rise as favourably to my fly as to the vagrant insect that now +flitted across the water. In good sooth I wished for rest, and I wished +for solitude; too much of my life latterly had been passed in salons and +soirées; the peaceful habit of my soul, the fruit of my own lonely +hours, had suffered grievous inroads by my partnership with the world, +and I deemed it essential to be once more apart from the jarring +influences and distracting casualties which every step in life is beset +by, were it only to recover again my habitual tranquillity--to refit the +craft ere she took the sea once more. + +I wanted but little to decide my mind; the sight of an inn, some +picturesque spot, a pretty face--anything, in short, would have +sufficed. But somehow I suppose I must have been more fastidious than I +knew of, for I continued to walk onward; and at last, leaving the little +hamlet of Pepinsterre behind me, I set out with brisker pace towards +Spa. The air was calm and balmy; no leaf stirred; the river beside the +road did not even murmur, but crept silently along its gravelly bed, +fearful to break the stillness. Gradually the shadows fell stronger and +broader, and at length mingled into one broad expanse of gloom; in a few +minutes more it was night. + +There is something very striking, I had almost said saddening, in the +sudden transition from day to darkness in those countries where no +twilight exists. The gradual change by which road and mountain, rock and +cliff, mellow into the hues of sunset, and grow grey in the gloaming, +deepening the shadows, and by degrees losing all outline in the dimness +around, prepares us for the gloom of night. We feel it like the tranquil +current of years marking some happy life, where childhood and youth and +manhood and age succeed in measured time. Not so the sudden and +immediate change, which seems rather like the stroke of some fell +misfortune, converting the cheerful hours into dark, brooding +melancholy. Tears may--they do--fall lightly on some; they creep with +noiseless step, and youth and age glide softly into each other without +any shock to awaken the thought that says, Adieu to this! Farewell to +that for ever! + +Thus was I musing, when suddenly I found myself at the spot where the +road branched off in two directions. No house was near, nor a living +thing from whom I could ask the way. I endeavoured by the imperfect +light of the stars, for there was no moon, to ascertain which road +seemed most frequented and travelled, judging that Spa was the most +likely resort of all journeying in these parts; but unhappily I could +detect no difference to guide me. There were wheel-tracks in both, and +ruts and stones tolerably equitably adjusted; each had a pathway, too-- +the right-hand road enjoying a slight superiority over the other in this +respect, as its path was more even. + +I was completely puzzled. Had I been mounted, I had left the matter to +my horse; but unhappily my decision had not a particle of reason to +guide it. I looked from the road to the trees, and from the trees to the +stars, but they looked down as tranquilly as though either way would do- +-all save one, a sly little brilliant spangle in the south, that seemed +to wink at my difficulty. ‘No matter,’ said I, ‘one thing is certain-- +neither a supper nor a bed will come to look for me here; and so now for +the best pathway, as I begin to feel foot-sore.’ + +My momentary embarrassment about the road completely routed all my +musings, and I now turned my thoughts to the comforts of the inn, and to +the pleasant little supper I promised myself on reaching it. I debated +as to what was in season and what was not. I spelled October twice to +ascertain if oysters were in, and there came a doubt across me whether +the Flemish name for the month might have an r in it, and then I laughed +at my own bull; afterwards I disputed with myself as to the relative +merits of Chablis and Hochheimer, and resolved to be guided by the +_garçon_. I combated long a weakness I felt growing over me for a pint +of mulled claret, as the air was now becoming fresh; but I gave in at +last, and began to hammer my brain for the French words for cloves and +nutmeg. + +In these innocent ruminations did an hour pass by, and yet no sign of +human habitation, no sound of life, could I perceive at either side of +me. The night, ‘tis true, was brighter as it became later, and there +were stars in thousands in the sky; but I would gladly have exchanged +Venus for the chambermaid of the humblest _auberge_, and given the Great +Bear himself for a single slice of bacon. At length, after about two +hours’ walking, I remarked that the road was becoming much more steep; +indeed, it had presented a continual ascent for some miles, but now the +acclivity was very considerable, particularly at the close of a long +day’s march. I remembered well that Spa lay in a valley, but for the +life of me I could not think whether a mountain was to be crossed to +arrive there. ‘That comes of travelling by post,’ said I to myself; had +I walked the road, I had never forgotten so remarkable a feature.’ While +I said this, I could not help confessing that I had as lief my present +excursion had been also in a conveyance. + + +‘Forwärts! fort, und immer fort!’ + +hummed I, remembering Körner’s song; and taking it for my motto, on I +went at a good pace. It needed all my powers as a pedestrian, however, +to face the mountain, for such I could see it was that I was now +ascending; the pathway, too, less trodden than below, was encumbered +with loose stones, and the trees which lined the way on either side +gradually became thinner and rarer, and at last ceased altogether, +exposing me to the cold blast which swept from time to time across the +barren heath with a chill that said October was own brother to November. +Three hours and a half did I toil along, when at last the conviction +came over me that I must have taken the wrong road. This could not +possibly be the way to Spa; indeed, I had great doubts that it led +anywhere. I mounted a little rock, and took a survey of the bleak +mountain-side; but nothing could I see that indicated that the hand of +man had ever laboured in that wild region. Fern and heath, clumps of +gorse and misshapen rocks, diversified the barren surface on every side, +and I now seemed to have gained the summit, a vast tableland spreading +away for miles. I sat down to consider what was best to be done. The +thought of retracing so many leagues of way was very depressing; and yet +what were my chances if I went forward? + +Ah, thought I, why did not some benevolent individual think of erecting +lighthouses inland? What a glorious invention would it have been! Just +think of the great mountain districts which lie in the very midst of +civilisation, pathless, trackless, and unknown, where a benighted +traveller may perish within the very sound of succour, if he but knew +where to seek it. How cheering to the wayworn traveller as he plods +along his weary road, to lift from time to time his eyes to the guide- +star in the distance! Had the monks been in the habit of going out in +the dark, there’s little doubt they’d have persuaded some good Catholics +to endow some institutions like this. How well they knew how to have +their chapels and convents erected! I’m not sure but I’d vow a little +lighthouse myself to the Virgin, if I could only catch a glimpse of a +gleam of light this moment. + +Just then I thought I saw something twinkle, far away across the heath. +I climbed up on the rock, and looked steadily in the direction. There +was no doubt of it-there was a light; no Jack-o’-Lantern either, but a +good respectable light, of domestic habits, shining steadily and +brightly. It seemed far off; but there is nothing so deceptive as the +view over a flat surface. In any case, I resolved to make for it; and +so, seizing my staff, I once more set forward. Unhappily, however, I +soon perceived that the road led off in a direction exactly the reverse +of the object I sought, and I was now obliged to make my choice of +quitting the path or abandoning the light; my resolve was quickly made, +and I started off across the plain, with my eyes steadily fixed upon my +beacon. + +The mountain was marshy and wet--that wearisome surface of spongy +hillock, and low, creeping brushwood, the most fatal thing to a tired +walker--and I made but slow progress; besides, frequently, from +inequalities of the soil, I would lose sight of the light for half an +hour together, and then, on its reappearing suddenly, discover how far I +had wandered out of the direct line. These little aberrations did not +certainly improve my temper, and I plodded along, weary of limb and out +of spirits. + +At length I came to the verge of a declivity. Beneath me lay a valley, +winding and rugged, with a little torrent brawling through rocks and +stones--a wild and gloomy scene by the imperfect light of the stars. On +the opposite mountain stood the coveted light, which now I could +discover proceeded from a building of some size, at least so far as I +could pronounce from the murky shadow against the background of sky. + +I summoned up one great effort, and pushed down the slope--now sliding +on hands and feet, now trusting to a run of some yards where the ground +was more feasible. After a fatiguing course of two hours, I reached the +crest of the opposite hill, and stood within a few hundred yards of the +house--the object of my wearisome journey. It was indeed in keeping with +the deserted wildness of the place. A ruined tower, one of those square +keeps which formerly were intended as frontier defences, standing on a +rocky base, beside the edge of a steep cliff, had been made a dwelling +of by some solitary herdsman--for so the sheep collected within a little +inclosure bespoke him. The rude efforts to make the place habitable were +conspicuous in the door formed of wooden planks nailed coarsely +together, and the window, whose panes were made of a thin substance like +parchment, through which, however, the blaze of a fire shone brightly +without. + +Creeping carefully forward to take a reconnaissance of the interior +before I asked for admission, I approached a small aperture, where a +single pane of glass permitted a view. A great heap of blazing furze, +that filled the old chimney of the tower, lit up the whole space, and +enabled me to see a man who sat on a log of wood beside the hearth, with +his head bent upon his knees. His dress was a coarse blouse of striped +woollen descending to his knees, where a pair of gaiters of sheepskin +were fastened by thongs of untanned leather; his head was bare, and +covered only by a long mass of black hair, that fell in tangled locks +down his back, and even over his face as he bent forward. A shepherd’s +staff and a broad hat of felt lay on the ground beside him; there was +neither chair nor table, nor, save some fern in one corner, anything +that might serve as a bed; a large earthenware jug and a metal pot stood +near the fire, and a knife, such as butchers kill with, lay beside them. +Over the chimney, however, was suspended, by two thongs of leather, a +sword, long and straight, like the weapon of the heavy cavalry of +France; and, higher again, I could see a great piece of printed paper +was fastened to the wall. As I continued to scan, one by one, these +signs of utter poverty, the man stretched out his limbs and rubbed his +eyes for a minute or two, and then with a start sprang to his feet, +displaying, as he did so, the proportions of a most powerful and +athletic frame. + + +He was, as well as I could guess, about forty-five years of age; but +hardship and suffering had worn deep lines about his face, which was +sallow and emaciated. A black moustache, that hung down over his lip and +descended to his chin, concealed the lower part of his face; the upper +was bold and manly, the forehead high and well developed; but his eyes-- +and I could mark them well as the light fell on him--were of an +unnatural brilliancy; their sparkle had the fearful gleam of a mind +diseased, and in their quick, restless glances through the room I saw +that he was labouring under some insane delusion. He paced the room with +a steady step, backwards and forwards, for a few minutes, and once, as +he lifted his eyes above the chimney, he stopped abruptly and carried +his hand to his forehead in a military salute, while he muttered +something to himself. The moment after he threw open the door, and +stepping outside, gave a long shrill whistle; he paused for a few +seconds, and repeated it, when I could hear the distant barking of a dog +replying to his call. Just then he turned abruptly, and with a spring +seized me by the arm. + +‘Who are you? What do you want here?’ said he, in a voice tremulous with +passion. + +A few words--it was no time for long explanations--told him how I had +lost my way in the mountain, and was in search of shelter for the night. + +‘It was a lucky thing for you that one of my lambs was astray,’ said he, +with a fierce smile. ‘If Tête-noir had been at home, he’d have made +short work of you. Come in.’ + +With that he pushed me before him into the tower, and pointed to the +block of wood where he had been sitting previously, while he threw a +fresh supply of furze upon the hearth, and stirred up the blaze with his +foot. + +‘The wind is moving round to the southard,’ said he; ‘we ‘ll have a +heavy fall of rain soon.’ + +‘The stars look very bright, however.’ + +‘Never trust them. Before day breaks, you’ll see the mountain will be +covered with mist.’ + +As he spoke, he crossed his arms on his breast, and recommenced his walk +up and down the chamber. The few words he spoke surprised me much by the +tones of his voice, so unlike the accents I should have expected from +one of his miserable and squalid appearance; they were mild, and bore +the traces of one who had seen very different fortunes from his present +ones. + +I wished to speak, and induce him to converse with me; but the efforts I +made seeming only to excite his displeasure, I abandoned the endeavour +with a good grace; and having disposed my knapsack as a pillow, +stretched myself full length before the hearth, and fell sound asleep. + +When I awoke, the shepherd was not to be seen. The fire, which blazed +brightly, showed, however, that he had not long been absent; a huge log +of beech had recently been thrown upon it. The day was breaking, and I +went to the door to look out. Nothing, however, could I see; vast clouds +of mist were sweeping along before the wind, that sighed mournfully over +the bleak mountains and concealed everything a few yards off, while a +thin rain came slanting down, the prelude to the storm the shepherd had +prophesied. + +Never was there anything more dreary within or without; the miserable +poverty of the ruined tower was scarcely a shelter from the coming +hurricane. I returned to my place beside the fire, sad and low at heart. +While I was conjecturing within myself what distance I might be from +Spa, and how I could contrive to reach it, I chanced to fix my eyes on +the sabre above the chimney, which I took down to examine. It was a +plain straight weapon, of the kind carried by the soldiery; its only +sign of inscription was the letter ‘N’ on the blade. As I replaced it, I +caught sight of the printed paper, which, begrimed with smoke and partly +obliterated by time, was nearly illegible. After much pains, however, I +succeeded in deciphering the following; it was headed in large letters-- + + +‘Ordre du Jour, de l’Armée Française. Le 9 Thermidor.’ + +The lines which immediately followed were covered by another piece of +paper pasted over them, where I could just here and there detect a stray +word, which seemed to indicate that the whole bore reference to some +victory of the republican army. The last four lines, much clearer than +the rest, ran thus:-- + +‘Le citoyen Aubuisson, chef de bataillon de Grenadiers, de cette demi- +brigade, est entré le premier dans la redoute. Il a eu son habit criblé +de balles.’ + +I read and re-read the lines a dozen times over; indeed, to this hour +are they fast fixed in my memory. Some strange mystery seemed to connect +them with the poor shepherd; otherwise, why were they here? I thought +over his figure, strong and well-knit, as I saw him stand upright in the +room, and of his military salute; and the conviction came fully over me +that the miserable creature, covered with rags and struggling with want, +was no other than the citizen Aubuisson. Yet, by what fearful +vicissitude had he fallen to this? The wild expression of his features +at times did indeed look like insanity; still, what he said to me was +both calm and coherent. The mystery excited all my curiosity, and I +longed for his return, in the hope of detecting some clue to it. + +The door opened suddenly. A large dog, more mastiff than sheep-dog, +dashed in; seeing me, he retreated a step, and fixing his eyes steadily +upon me, gave a fearful howl. I could not stir from fear. I saw that he +was preparing for a spring, when the voice of the shepherd called out, +‘Couche-toi, Tête-noir, couche!’ The savage beast at once slunk quietly +to a corner, and lay down--still never taking his eyes from me, and +seeming to feel as if his services would soon be in request in my +behalf; while his master shook the rain from his hat and blouse, and +came forward to dry himself at the fire. Fixing his eyes steadfastly on +the red embers as he stirred them with his foot, he muttered some few +and broken words, among which, although I listened attentively, I could +but hear, ‘Pas un mot; silence, silence, à la mort!’ + +‘You were not wrong in your prophecy, shepherd; the storm is setting in +already,’ said I, wishing to attract his attention. + +‘Hush!’ said he, in a low whisper, while he motioned me with his hand to +be still--‘hush! not a word!’ + +The eager glare of madness was in his eye as he spoke, and a tremulous +movement of his pale cheek betokened some great inward convulsion. He +threw his eyes slowly around the miserable room, looking below and above +with the scrutinising glance of one resolved to let nothing escape his +observation; and then kneeling down on one knee beside the blaze he took +a piece of dry wood, and stole it quietly among the embers. + +‘There, there!’ cried he, springing to his legs, while he seized me +rudely by the shoulder, and hurried me to the distant end of the room. +‘Come quickly! stand back, stand back there! see, see!’ said he, as the +crackling sparks flew up and the tongued flame rose in the chimney, +‘there it goes!’ Then putting his lips to my ear he muttered, ‘Not a +word! silence! silence to the death!’ + +As he said this, he drew himself up to his full height, and crossing his +arms upon his breast stood firm and erect before me, and certainly, +covered with rags the meanest poverty would have rejected, shrunk by +famine and chilled by hunger and storm, there was still remaining in him +the traits of a once noble face and figure. The fire of madness, +unquenched by every misery, lit up his dark eye, and even on his +compressed lip there was a curl of pride. Poor fellow! some pleasant +memory seemed to flit across him; he smiled, and as he moved his hair +from his forehead he bowed his head slightly, and murmured, ‘Oui, sire!’ +How soft, how musical that voice was then! Just at this instant the deep +bleating of the sheep was heard without, and Tête-noir, springing up, +rushed to the door, and scratched fiercely with his fore-paws. The +shepherd hastened to open it, and to my surprise I beheld a boy about +twelve years of age, poorly clad and dripping with wet, who was carrying +a small canvas bag on his back. + +‘Has the lamb been found, Lazare?’ said the child, as he unslung his +little sack. + +‘Yes; ‘tis safe in the fold.’ + +‘And the spotted ewe? You don’t think the wolves could have taken her +away so early as this----’ + +‘Hush, hush!’ said the shepherd, with a warning gesture to the child, +who seemed at once to see that the lunatic’s vision was on him; for he +drew his little blouse close around his throat, and muttered a ‘Bonjour, +Lazare,’ and departed. + +‘Couldn’t that boy guide me down to Spa, or some village near it?’ said +I, anxious to seize an opportunity of escape. + +He looked at me without seeming to understand my question. I repeated it +more slowly, when, as if suddenly aware of my meaning, he replied +quickly-- + +‘No, no; little Pierre has a long road to go home; he lives far away in +the mountains. I ‘ll show you the way myself. + +With that, he opened the sack, and took forth a loaf of coarse wheaten +bread, such as the poorest cottagers make, and a tin flask of milk. +Tearing the loaf asunder, he handed me one-half, which more from policy +than hunger, though I had endured a long fast, I accepted. Then passing +the milk towards me he made a sign for me to drink, and when I had done, +seized the flask himself, and nodding gaily with his head, cried, ‘A +vous, camarade.’ Simple as the gesture and few the words, they both +convinced me that he had been a soldier once; and each moment only +strengthened me in the impression that I had before me in the shepherd +Lazare an officer of the Grande Armée--one of those heroes of a hundred +fights, whose glory was the tributary stream in the great ocean of the +Empire’s grandeur. + +Our meal was soon concluded, and in silence; and Lazare, having +replenished his fire, went to the door and looked out. + +‘It will be wilder ere night,’ said he, as he peered into the dense +mist, which, pressed down by rain, lay like a pall upon the earth; ‘if +you are a good walker, I ‘ll take you by a short way to Spa.’ + +‘I’ll do my best,’ said I, ‘to follow you.’ + +‘The mountain is easy enough; but there may be a stream or two swollen +by the rains. They are sometimes dangerous.’ + +‘What distance are we then from Spa?’ + +‘Four leagues and a half by the nearest route--seven and a half by the +road. Come, Tête-noir, bonne bête,’ said he, patting the savage beast, +who with a rude gesture of his tail evinced his joy at the recognition. +‘Thou must be on guard to-day; take care of these for me--that thou +wilt, old fellow; farewell, good beast, good-bye!’ + +The animal, as if he understood every word, stood with his red eyes +fixed upon him till he had done, and then answered by a long low howl. +Lazare smiled with pleasure, as he waved his hand towards him, and led +the way from the tower. + +I had but time to leave two louis-d’ors on the block of wood, when he +called out to me to follow him. The pace he walked at, as well as the +rugged course of the way he took, prevented my keeping at his side; and +I could only track him as he moved along through the misty rain, like +some genius of the storm, his long locks flowing wildly behind him, and +his tattered garments fluttering in the wind. + +It was a toilsome and dreary march, unrelieved by aught to lessen the +fatigue. Lazare never spoke one word the entire time; occasionally he +would point with his staff to the course we were to take, or mark the +flight of some great bird of prey soaring along near the ground, as if +fearless of man in regions so wild and desolate; save at these moments, +he seemed buried in his own gloomy thoughts. Four hours of hard walking +brought us at last to the summit of a great mountain, from which, as the +mist was considerably cleared away, I could perceive a number of lesser +mountains surrounding it, like the waves of the sea. My guide pointed to +the ground, as if recommending a rest, and I willingly threw myself on +the heath, damp and wet as it was. + +The rest was a short one; he soon motioned me to resume the way, and we +plodded onward for an hour longer, when we came to a great tableland of +several miles in extent, but which still I could perceive was on a very +high level. At last we reached a little grove of stunted pines, where a +rude cross of stone stood--a mark to commemorate the spot where a murder +had been committed, and to entreat prayers for the discovery of the +murderers. Here Lazare stopped, and pointing to a little narrow path in +the heather, he said-- + +‘Spa is scarce two leagues distant; it lies in the valley yonder; follow +this path, and you ‘ll not fail to reach it.’ + +While I proffered my thanks to him for his guidance, I could not help +expressing my wish to make some slight return for it. A dark, disdainful +look soon stopped me in my speech, and I turned it off in a desire to +leave some souvenir of my night’s lodging behind me in the old tower. +But even this he would not hear of; and when I stretched out my hand to +bid him good-bye, he took it with a cold and distant courtesy, as though +he were condescending to a favour he had no fancy for. + +‘Adieu, monsieur,’ said I, still tempted, by a last effort of allusion +to his once condition, to draw something from him--‘adieu!’ + +He approached me nearer, and with a voice of tremulous eagerness, he +muttered-- + +‘Not a word yonder, not a syllable! Pledge me your faith in that!’ + +Thinking now that it was merely the recurrence of his paroxysm, I +answered carelessly, ‘Never fear, I’ll say nothing.’ + +‘Yes, but swear it,’ said he, with a fixed look of his dark eye; ‘swear +it to me now, that so long as you are below there’--he pointed to the +valley--‘you will never speak of me.’ + +I made him the promise he required, though with great unwillingness, as +my curiosity to learn something about him was becoming intense. + +‘Not a word!’ said he, with a finger on his lip, ‘that’s the _consigne_. + +‘Not a word!’ repeated I, and we parted. + + + +CHAPTER XVII. THE BORE--A SOLDIER OF THE EMPIRE. + +Two hours after, I was enjoying the pleasant fire of the Hôtel de +Flandre, where I arrived in time for table d’hôte, not a little to the +surprise of the host and six waiters, who were totally lost in +conjectures to account for my route, and sorely puzzled to ascertain the +name of my last hotel in the mountains. + +A watering-place at the close of a season is always a sad-looking thing. +The barricades of the coming winter already begin to show; the little +statues in public gardens are assuming their greatcoats of straw against +the rigours of frost; the _jets d’ eau_ cease to play, or perform with +the unwilling air of actors to empty benches; the tables d’hôte present +their long dinner-rooms unoccupied, save by a little table at one end, +where some half-dozen shivering inmates still remain, the débris of the +mighty army who flourished their knives there but six weeks before-- +these half-dozen usually consisting of a stray invalid or two, +completing his course of the waters, having a fortnight of sulphuretted +hydrogen before him yet, and not daring to budge till he has finished +his ‘heeltap’ of abomination. Then there’s the old half-pay major, that +has lived in Spa, for aught I know, since the siege of Namur, and who +passes his nine months of winter in shooting quails and playing +dominoes; and there’s an elderly lady, with spectacles, always working +at a little embroidery frame, who speaks no French, and seems not to be +aware of anything going on around her--no one being able to guess why +she is there, she probably not knowing why herself. Lastly, there is a +very distracted-looking young gentleman, with a shooting-jacket and +young moustaches, who having been ‘cleaned out’ at _rouge et noir_, is +waiting in the hope of a remittance from some commiserating relative in +England. + +The theatre is closed; its little stars, dispersed among the small +capitals, have shrunk back to their former proportions of third and +fourth-rate parts--for though butterflies in July, they are mere grubs +in December. The clink of the croupier’s mace is no longer heard, +revelling amid the five-franc pieces; all is still and silent in that +room which so late the conflict of human passion, hope, envy, fear, and +despair, had made a very hell on earth. + +The donkeys, too, who but the other day were decked in scarlet +trappings, are now despoiled of their gay panoply, and condemned to the +mean drudgery of the cart. Poor beasts! their drooping ears and fallen +heads seem to show some sense of their changed fortunes; no longer +bearing the burden of some fair-cheeked girl or laughing boy along the +mountain-side, they are brought down to the daily labour of the cottage, +and a cutlet is no more like a mutton-chop than a donkey is like an ass. + +So does everything suffer a ‘sea-change.’ The modiste, whose pretty cap +with its gay ribbons was itself an advertisement of her wares, has taken +to a close bonnet and a woollen shawl--a metamorphosis as complete as is +the misshapen mass of cloaks and mud-boots of the agile danseuse, who +flitted between earth and air a few moments before. Even the doctor--and +what a study is the doctor of a watering-place!--even he has laid by his +smiles and his soft speeches, folded up in the same drawer with his +black coat for the winter. He has not thrown physic to the dogs, because +he is fond of sporting, and would not injure the poor beasts, but he has +given it an _au revoir_; and as grouse come in with autumn, and black- +cock in November, so does he feel chalybeates are in season on the first +of May. Exchanging his cane for a Manton, and his mild whisper for a +dog-whistle, he takes to the pursuit of the lower animals, leaving men +for the warmer months. + +All this disconcerts one. You hate to be present at those +_déménagements_, where the curtains are coming down, and the carpet is +being taken up; where they are nailing canvas across pictures, and +storing books into pantries. These smaller revolutions are all very +detestable, and you gladly escape into some quiet and retired spot, and +wait till the fussing be over. So felt I. Had I come a month later, this +place would have suited me perfectly, but this process of human moulting +is horrible to witness; and so, say I once more, _En route_. + +Like a Dutchman who took a run of three miles to jump over a hill, and +then sat down tired at the foot of it, I flurried myself so completely +in canvassing all the possible places I might, could, would, should, or +ought to pass the winter in, that I actually took a fortnight to recover +my energies before I could set out. + +Meanwhile I had made a close friendship with a dyspeptic countryman of +mine, who went about the Continent with a small portmanteau and a very +large medicine-chest, chasing health from Naples to Paris, and from Aix- +la-Chapelle to Wildbad, firmly persuaded that every country had only one +month in the year at most wherein it were safe to live there--Spa being +the appropriate place to pass the October. He cared nothing for the +ordinary topics that engross the attention of mankind; kings might be +dethroned and dynasties demolished; states might revolt and subjects be +rebellious--all he wanted to know was, not what changes were made in the +code but in the pharmacopoeia. The liberty of the Press was a matter of +indifference to him; he cared little for what men might say, but a great +deal for what it was safe to swallow, and looked upon the inventor of +blue-pill as the greatest benefactor of mankind. He had the analysis of +every well and spring in Germany at his fingers’ end, and could tell you +the temperature and atomic proportions like his alphabet. But his great +system was a kind of reciprocity treaty between health and sickness, by +which a man could commit any species of gluttony he pleased when he knew +the peculiar antagonist principle. And thus he ate--I was going to say +like a shark, but let me not in my ignorance calumniate the fish; for I +know not if anything that ever swam could eat a soup with a custard +pudding, followed by beef and beetroot, stewed mackerel and treacle, +pickled oysters and preserved cherries, roast hare and cucumber, +venison, salad, prunes, hashed mutton, omelettes, pastry, and finally, +to wind up with effect, a sturgeon baked with brandy-peaches in his +abdomen--a thing to make a cook weep and a German blessed. Such was my +poor friend, Mr. Bartholomew Cater, the most thin, spare, emaciated, and +miserable-looking man that ever sipped at Schwalbach or shivered at +Kissingen. + +To permit these extravagances in diet, however, he had concocted a code +of reprisals, consisting of the various mineral waters of Germany and +the poisonous metals of modern pharmacy; and having established the fact +that ‘bitter wasser’ and ‘Carlsbad,’ the ‘Powon’ and ‘Pilnitz,’ combined +with blue-pill, were the natural enemies of all things eatable, he +swallowed these freely, and then left the matter to the rebellious +ingredients--pretty much as the English used to govern Ireland in times +gone by: set both parties by the ears, and wait the result in peace, +well aware that a slight derangement of the balance, from time to time, +would keep the contest in motion. Such was the state policy of Mr. +Cater, and I can only say that _his_ constitution survived it, though +that of Ireland seems to suffer grievously from the experiment. + +This lively gentleman was then my companion; indeed, with that cohesive +property of your true bore, he was ever beside me, relating some little +interesting anecdote of a jaundice or a dropsy, a tertian or a typhus, +by which agreeable souvenirs he preserved the memory of Athens or +Naples, Rome or Dresden, fresh and unclouded in his mind. Not satisfied, +however, with narration, like all enthusiasts he would be proselytising; +and whether from the force of his arguments or the weakness of my +nature, he found a ready victim in me, insomuch that under his admirable +instruction I was already beginning to feel a dislike and disgust to all +things edible, with an appetite only grown more ravenous, while my +reverence for all springs of unsavoury taste and smell--once, I must +confess, at a deplorably low ebb--was gradually becoming more developed. +It was only by the accidental discovery that my waistcoat could be made +to fit by putting it twice round me, and that my coat was a dependency +of which I was scarcely the nucleus, that I really became frightened. +‘What!’ thought I, ‘can this be that Arthur O’Leary whom men jested on +his rotundity? Is this me, around whom children ran, as they would about +a pillar or a monument, and thought it exercise to circumambulate? +Arthur, this will be the death of thee; thou wert a happy man and a fat +before thou knewest Kochbrunnens and thermometers; run while it is yet +time, and be thankful at least that thou art in racing condition.’ + +With noiseless step and cautious gesture, I crept downstairs one morning +at daybreak. My enemy was still asleep. I heard him muttering as I +passed his door; doubtless he was dreaming of some new combination of +horrors, some infernal alliance of cucumbers and quinine. I passed on in +silence; my very teeth chattered with fear. Happy was I to have them to +chatter! another fortnight of his intimacy, and they would have trembled +from blue-pill as well as panic! With a heavy sigh I paid my bill, and +crossed the street towards the diligence office. One place only remained +vacant--it was in the _banquette_. No matter, thought I, anywhere will +do at present. + +‘Where is monsieur going?--for there will be a place vacant in the +_coupé_ at--’ + +‘I have not thought of that yet,’ said I; ‘but when we reach Verviers we +‘ll see.’ + +‘_Allons_, then,’ said the _conducteur_, while he whispered to the clerk +of the office a few words I could not catch. + +‘You are mistaken, friend,’ said I; ‘it’s not creditors, they are only +chalybeates I ‘m running from’; and so we started. + +Before I follow out any further my own ramblings, I should like to +acquit a debt I owe my reader--if I dare flatter myself that he cares +for its discharge--by returning to the story of the poor shepherd of the +mountains, and which I cannot more seasonably do than at this place; +although the details I am about to relate were furnished to me a great +many years after this, and during a visit I paid to Lyons in 1828. + +In the Café de la Coupe d’Or, so conspicuous in the Place des Terreaux, +where I usually resorted to pass my evenings, and indulge in the cheap +luxuries of my coffee and cheroot, I happened to make a bowing +acquaintance with a venerable elderly gentleman, who each night resorted +there to read the papers, and amuse himself by looking over the chess- +players, with which the room was crowded. Some accidental interchange of +newspapers led to a recognition, and that again advanced to a few words +each time we met--till one evening, chance placed us at the same table, +and we chatted away several hours, and parted in the hope, mutually +expressed, of renewing our acquaintance at an early period. + +I had no difficulty in interrogating the _dame du café_ about my new +acquaintance. He was a striking and remarkable-looking personage, tall +and military-looking, with an air of _grand seigneur_, which in a +Frenchman is never deceptive; certainly I never saw it successfully +assumed by any who had no right to it. He wore his hair _en queue_, and +in his dress evinced, in several trifling matters, an adherence to the +habitudes of the old régime--so, at least, I interpreted his lace +ruffles and silk stockings, with his broad buckles of brilliants in his +shoes. The ribbon of St. Louis, which he wore unostentatiously on his +waistcoat, was his only decoration. + +‘This is the Vicomte de Berlemont, _ancien colonel-en-chef_,’ said she, +with an accent of pride at the mention of so distinguished a frequenter +of the café; ‘he has not missed an evening here for years past.’ + +A few more words of inquiry elicited from her the information that the +vicomte had served in all the wars of the Empire up to the time of the +abdication; that on the restoration of the Bourbons he had received his +rank in the service from them, and, faithful to their fortunes, had +followed Louis XVIII. in exile to Ghent. + +‘He has seen a deal of the world, then, madame, it would appear?’ + +‘That he has, and loves to speak about it too; time was when they +reckoned the vicomte among the pleasantest persons in Lyons; but they +say he has grown old now, and contracted a habit of repeating his +stories. I can’t tell how that may be, but I think him always amiable.’ +A delightful word that same ‘amiable’ is! and so thinking, I wished +madame good-night, and departed. + +The next evening I lay in wait for the old colonel, and was flattered to +see that he was taking equal pains to discover me. We retired to a +little table, ordered our coffee, and chatted away till midnight. Such +was the commencement, such the course, of one of the pleasantest +intimacies I ever formed. + +The vicomte was unquestionably the most agreeable specimen of his nation +I had ever met--easy and unaffected in his manner, having seen much, and +observed shrewdly; not much skilled in book-learning, but deeply read in +mankind. His views of politics were of that unexaggerated character +which are so often found correct; while of his foresight I can give no +higher token than that he then predicted to me the events of the year +1830, only erring as to the time, which he deemed might not be so far +distant. The Empire, however, and Napoleon were his favourite topics. +Bourbonist as he was, the splendour of France in 1810 and 1811, the +greatness of the mighty man whose genius then ruled its destinies, had +captivated his imagination, and he would talk for hours over the events +of Parisian life at that period, and the more brilliant incidents of the +campaigns. + +It was in one of our conversations, prolonged beyond the usual time, in +discussing the characters of those immediately about the person of the +Emperor, that I felt somewhat struck by the remark he made, that, while +‘Napoleon did meet unquestionably many instances of deep ingratitude +from those whom he had covered with honours and heaped with favours, +nothing ever equalled the attachment the officers of the army generally +bore to his person, and the devotion they felt for his glory and his +honour. It was not a sentiment,’ he said, ‘it was a religious belief +among the young men of my day that the Emperor could do no wrong. What +you assume in your country by courtesy, we believed _de facto_. So many +times had events, seeming most disastrous, turned out pregnant with +advantage and success, that a dilemma was rather a subject of amusing +speculation amongst us than a matter of doubt and despondency. There +came a terrible reverse to all this, however,’ continued he, as his +voice fell to a lower and sadder key; ‘a fearful lesson was in store for +us. Poor Aubuisson----’ + +‘Aubuisson!’ said I, starting; ‘was that the name you mentioned?’ + +‘Yes,’ said he, in amazement; ‘have you heard the story, then?’ + +‘No,’ said I, ‘I know of no story; it was the name alone struck me. Was +it not one of that name who was mentioned in one of Bonaparte’s +despatches from Egypt?’ + +‘To be sure it was, and the same man too; he was the first in the +trenches at Alexandria; he carried off a Mameluke chief his prisoner at +the battle of the Pyramids.’ + +‘What manner of man was he?’ + +‘A powerful fellow, one of the largest of his regiment, and they were a +Grenadier battalion; he had black hair and black moustache, which he +wore long and drooping, in Egyptian fashion.’ + +‘The same, the very same!’ cried I, carried away by my excitement. + +‘What do you mean?’ said the colonel; ‘you’ve never seen him, surely; he +died at Charenton the same year Waterloo was fought.’ + +‘No such thing,’ said I, feeling convinced that Lazare was the person. +‘I saw him alive much later’; and with that I related the story I have +told my reader, detailing minutely every little particular which might +serve to confirm my impression of the identity. + +‘No, no,’ said the vicomte, shaking his head, ‘you must be mistaken; +Aubuisson was a patient at Charenton for ten years, when he died. The +circumstances you mention are certainly both curious and strange, but I +cannot think they have any connection with the fortunes of poor Lazare; +at all events, if you like to hear the story, come home with me, and I +‘ll tell it; the café is about to close now, and we must leave.’ + +I gladly accepted the offer, for whatever doubts he had concerning +Lazare’s identity with Aubuisson, my convictions were complete, and I +longed to hear the solution of a mystery over which I had pondered many +a day of march and many a sleepless night. + +I could scarcely contain my impatience during supper. The thought of +Lazare absorbed everything in my mind, and I fancied the old colonel’s +appetite knew no bounds when the meal had lasted about a quarter of an +hour. At last having finished, and devised his modest glass of weak wine +and water, he began the story, of which I present the leading features +to my readers, omitting, of course, those little occasional digressions +and reflections by which the narrator himself accompanied his tale. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. THE RETREAT FROM LEIPSIC + +‘The third day of the disastrous battle of Leipsic was drawing to a +close, as the armies of the coalition made one terrible and fierce +attack, in concert, against the Imperial forces. Never was anything +before heard like the deafening thunder, as three hundred guns of heavy +artillery opened their fire at once from end to end of the line, and +three hundred thousand men advanced, wildly cheering, to the attack. + +‘Wearied, worn out, and exhausted, the French army held their ground, +like men prepared to die before their Emperor, but never desert him, +when the fearful intelligence was brought to Napoleon that in three days +the army had fired ninety-five thousand cannon-balls; that the reserve +ammunition was entirely consumed, and but sixteen thousand cannon-balls +remained, barely sufficient to maintain the fire two hours longer! What +was to be done? No resources lay nearer than Magdeburg or Erfurt. To the +latter place the Emperor at once decided on retiring, and at seven +o’clock the order was given for the artillery waggons and baggage to +pass the defile of Lindenau, and retreat over the Elster, the same order +being transmitted to the cavalry and the other corps of the army. The +defile was a long and difficult one, extending for two leagues, and +traversing several bridges. To accomplish the retreat in safety, +Napoleon was counselled to hold the allies in check by a strong force of +artillery, and then set fire to the faubourg; but the conduct of the +Saxon troops, however deserving of his anger, could not warrant a +punishment so fearful on the monarch of that country, who, through every +change of fortune, had stood steady in his friendship. He rejected the +course at once, and determined on retreating as best he might. + +‘The movement was then begun at once, and every avenue that led to the +faubourg of Lindenau was crowded by troops of all arms, eagerly pressing +onward--a fearful scene of confusion and dismay, for it was a beaten +army that fled, and one which until now never had thoroughly felt the +horrors of defeat. From seven until nine the columns came on at a quick +step, the cavalry at a trot; defiling along the narrow gorge of +lindenau, they passed a mill at the roadside, where at a window stood +one with arms crossed and head bent upon his bosom. He gazed steadfastly +at the long train beneath, but never noticed the salutes of the general +officers as they passed along. It was the Emperor himself, pale and +care-worn, his low chapeau pressed down far on his brows, and his +uniform splashed and travel-stained. For over an hour he stood thus +silent and motionless; then throwing himself upon a bed he slept. Yes; +amid all the terrible events of that disastrous retreat, when the +foundations of the mighty empire he had created were crumbling beneath +him, when the great army he had so often led to victory was defiling +beaten before him, he laid his wearied head upon a pillow and slept! + +‘A terrible cannonade, the fire of seventy large guns brought to bear +upon the ramparts, shook the very earth, and at length awoke Napoleon, +who through all the din and clamour had slept soundly and tranquilly. + +‘“What is it, Duroc?” said he, raising himself upon one arm, and looking +up. + +‘“It is Swartzenberg’s attack, sire, on the rampart of Halle.” + +‘“Ha! so near?” said he, springing up and approaching the window, from +which the bright flashes of the artillery were each moment discernible +in the dark sky. At the same moment an aide-de-camp galloped up, and +dismounted at the door; in another minute he was in the room. + +‘The Saxon troops, left by the Emperor as a guard of honour and +protection to the unhappy monarch, had opened a fire on the retreating +columns, and a fearful confusion was the result. The Emperor spoke not a +word. Macdonald’s corps and Poniatowskf s division were still in +Leipsic; but already they had commenced their retiring movement on +Lindenau. Lauriston’s brigade was also rapidly approaching the bridge +over the Elster, to which now the men were hurrying madly, intent alone +on flight. The bridge--the only one by which the troops could pass --had +been mined, and committed to the charge of Colonel Montfort of the +Engineers, with directions to blow it up when the enemy appeared, and +thus gain time for the baggage to retreat. + +‘As the aide-de-camp stood awaiting Napoleon’s orders in reply to a few +lines written in pencil by the Duke of Tarento, another staff-officer +arrived, breathless, to say that the allies had carried the rampart, and +were already in Leipsic. Napoleon became deadly pale; then, with a +motion of his hand, he signed to the officer to withdraw. + +‘“Duroc,” said he, when they were alone, “where is Nansouty?” + +‘“With the eighth corps, sire. They have passed an hour since.” + +‘“Who commands the picket without?” + +‘“Aubuisson, sire.” + +‘“Send him to me, and leave us alone.” + +‘In a few moments Colonel Aubuisson entered. His arm was in a sling from +a sabre-wound he had received the morning before, but which did not +prevent his remaining on duty. The stout soldier seemed as unconcerned +and fearless in that dreadful moment as though it were a day of gala +manoeuvres, and not one of disaster and defeat. + +‘“Aubuisson,” said the Emperor, “you were with us at Alexandria?” + +‘“I was, sire,” said he, as a deeper tinge coloured his bronzed +features. + +‘“The first in the rampart--I remember it well,” said Napoleon; “the +_ordre du jour_ commemorates the deed. It was at Moscow you gained the +cross, I believe?” continued he, after a slight pause. + +‘“I never obtained it, sire,” replied Aubuisson, with a struggle to +repress some disappointment in his tone. + +‘“How, never obtained it!--you, Aubuisson, an ancient _brave_ of the +Pyramids! Come, come, there has been a mistake somewhere; we must look +to this. Meanwhile, _General_ Aubuisson, take mine.” + +‘With that he detached his cordon from the breast of his uniform, and +fastened it on the coat of the astonished officer, who could only mutter +the words, “Sire, sire!” in reply. + +‘“Now, then, for a service you must render me, and speedily, too,” said +Napoleon, as he laid his hand on the general’s shoulder. + +‘The Emperor whispered for some seconds in his ear, then looked at him +fixedly in the face. “What!” cried he, “do you hesitate?” + +‘“Hesitate, sire!” said Aubuisson, starting back. “Never! If your +Majesty had ordered me to the mouth of a mortar--but I wish to know----” + +‘Napoleon did not permit him to conclude, but drawing him closer, +whispered again a few words in his ear. “And, mark me,” said he, aloud, +as he finished, “mark me, Aubuisson! silence--pas un mot? silence à la +mort!” + +‘“A la mort, sire!” repeated the general, while at the same moment Duroc +hurried into the room, and cried out-- + +‘“They are advancing towards the Elster; Macdonald’s rear-guard is +engaged----” + +‘A motion of Napoleon’s hand towards the door and a look at Aubuisson +was the only notice he took of the intelligence, and the officer was +gone. + +‘While Duroc continued to detail the disastrous events the last arrived +news had announced, the Emperor approached the window, which was still +open, and looked out. All was in darkness towards that part of the city +near the defile. The attack was on the distant rampart, near which the +sky was red and lurid. Still, it was towards that dark and gloomy part +that Napoleon’s eyes were turned, and not in the direction where the +fight was still raging. Peering into the dense blackness, he stood +without speaking, when suddenly a bright gleam of light shot up from the +gloom, and then came three tremendous reports, so rapidly, one after the +other, as almost to seem like one. The same instant a blaze of fire +flashed upwards towards the sky, and glittering fragments of burning +timber were hurled into the air. Napoleon covered his eyes with his +hand, and leaned against the side of the window. + +‘“It is the bridge over the Elster!” cried Duroc, in a voice half wild +with passion. “They’ve blown up the bridge before Macdonald’s division +have crossed.” + +‘“Impossible!” said the Emperor. “Go see quickly, Duroc, what has +happened.” + +‘But before the general could leave the room, a wounded officer rushed +in, his clothes covered with the marks of recent fire. + +‘“The Sappers, sire! the Sappers-----” + +‘“What of them?” said the Emperor. + +‘“They’ve blown up the bridge, and the fourth corps are still in +Leipsic.” + +‘The next moment Napoleon was on his horse, surrounded by his staff, and +galloping furiously towards the river. + +‘Never was a scene more awful than that which now presented itself +there. Hundreds of men had thrown themselves headlong into the rapid +river, where masses of burning timber were falling on every side; horse +and foot all mixed up in fearful confusion struggled madly in the +stream, mingling their cries with the shouts of those who came on from +behind, and who discovered for the first time that the retreat was cut +off. The Duke of Tarento crossed, holding by his horse’s mane. Lauriston +had nearly reached the bank, when he sank to rise no more; and +Poniatowski, the chivalrous Pole, the last hope of his nation, was seen +for an instant struggling with the waves, and then disappeared for ever. + +‘Twenty thousand men, sixty great guns, and above two hundred waggons +were thus left in the power of the enemy. Few who sought refuge in +flight ever reached the opposite bank, and for miles down, the shores of +the Elster were marked by the bodies of French soldiers, who thus met +their death on that fearful night. + +‘Among the disasters of this terrible retreat was the fate of Reynier, +of whom no tidings could be had; nor was it known whether he died in +battle, or fell a prisoner into the hands of the enemy. He was the +personal friend of the Emperor, who in his loss deplored not only the +brave and valorous soldier, but the steady adherent to his fortunes +through good and evil. No more striking evidence of the amount of this +misfortune can be had than the bulletin of Napoleon himself. That +document, usually devoted to the expression of vainglorious and +exaggerated descriptions of the triumphs of the army--full of those +high-flown narratives by which the glowing imagination of the Emperor +conveyed the deeds of his soldiers to the wondering ears of France--was +now a record of mournful depression and sad reverse of fortune. + +‘“The French army,” said he, “continues its march on Erfurt--a beaten +army. After so many brilliant successes, it is now in retreat.” + +‘Every one is already acquainted with the disastrous career of that +army, the greatest that ever marched from France. Each step of their +return, obstinately contested against overwhelming superiority of force, +however it might evidence the chivalrous spirit of a nation who would +not confess defeat, brought them only nearer to their own frontiers, +pursued by those whose countries they had violated, whose kings they had +dethroned, whose liberties they had trampled on. The fearful Nemesis of +war had come. The hour was arrived when all the wrongs they had wreaked +on others were to be tenfold inflicted on themselves; when the plains of +that “belle France,” of which they were so proud, were to be trampled +beneath the feet of insulting conquerors; when the Cossack and the Uhlan +were to bivouac in that capital which they so arrogantly styled “the +centre of European civilisation.” + +‘I need not dwell on these things; I will but ask you to accompany me to +Erfurt, where the army arrived five days after. A court-martial was +there summoned for the trial of Colonel Montfort of the Engineers, and +the party under his command, who in violation of their orders had +prematurely blown up the bridge over the Elster, and were thus the cause +of that fearful disaster by which so many gallant lives were sacrificed, +and the honour of a French army so grievously tarnished. Contrary to the +ordinary custom, the proceedings of that court-martial were never made +known; * the tribunal sat with closed doors, accessible only to the +Emperor himself and the officers of his personal staff. + + +* The vicomte’s assertion is historically correct. + +‘On the fourth day of the investigation, a messenger was despatched to +Braunach, a distant outpost of the army, to bring up General Aubuisson, +who, it was rumoured, was somehow implicated in the transaction. The +general took his place beside the other prisoners, in the full uniform +of his grade. He wore on his breast the cross the Emperor himself had +given him, and he carried at his side the sabre of honour he had +received on the battlefield of Eylau. Still, they who knew him well +remarked that his countenance no longer wore its frank and easy +expression, while in his eye there was a restless, anxious look, as he +glanced from side to side, and seemed troubled and suspicious. + +‘An order, brought by one of the aides-de-camp of the Emperor, commanded +that the proceedings should not be opened that morning before his +Majesty’s arrival, and already the court had remained an hour inactive, +when Napoleon entered suddenly, and saluting the members of the tribunal +with a courteous bow, took his place at the head of the table. As he +passed up the hall he threw one glance upon the bench where the +prisoners sat; it was short and fleeting, but there was one there who +felt it in his inmost soul, and who in that rapid look read his own fate +for ever. + +‘“General Aubuisson,” said the President of the court-martial, “you were +on duty with the peloton of your battalion on the evening of the 18th?” + +‘A short nod of the head was the only reply. “It is alleged,” continued +the President, “that a little after nine o’clock you appeared on the +bridge over the Elster, and held a conversation with Colonel Montfort, +the officer commanding the post; the court now desires that you will +recapitulate the circumstances of that conversation, as well as inform +it generally on the reasons of your presenting yourself at a post so +remote from your duty.” + +‘The general made no reply, but fixed his eyes steadfastly on the face +of the Emperor, whose cold glance met his own, impassive and unmoved. + +‘“Have you heard the question of the court?” said the President, in a +louder tone, “or shall I repeat it?” + +‘The prisoner turned upon him a look of vacancy. Like one suddenly +awakened from a frightful dream, he appeared struggling to remember +something which no effort of his mind could accomplish. He passed his +hand across his brow, on which now the big drops of sweat were standing, +and then there broke from him a sigh, so low and plaintive it was +scarcely audible. + +‘“Collect yourself, general,” said the President, in a milder tone; “we +wish to hear from your own lips your account of this transaction.” + +‘Aubuisson cast his eyes downwards, and with his hands firmly clasped, +seemed to reflect. As he stood thus, his look fell upon the cross of the +Legion which he wore on his bosom; with a sudden start he pressed his +hand upon it, and drawing himself up to his full height, exclaimed, in a +wild and broken voice-- + +‘“Silence--silence à la mort!” + +‘The members of the court-martial looked from one to the other in +amazement, while after a pause of a few minutes the President repeated +his question, dwelling patiently on each word, as if desirous to suit +the troubled intellect of the prisoner. + +‘“You are asked,” said he, “to remember why you appeared at the bridge +of the Elster.” + +‘“Hush!” replied the prisoner, placing his finger upon his lips, as if +to instil caution; “not a word!” + +‘“What can this mean?” said the President, “his mind appears completely +astray.” + +‘The members of the tribunal leaned their heads over the table, and +conversed for some moments in a low tone, after which the President +resumed the interrogatory as before. + +‘“Que voulez-vous?” said the Emperor, rising, while a crimson spot on +his cheek evinced his displeasure; “Que voulez-vous, messieurs! do you +not see the man is mad?” + +‘“Silence!” reiterated Aubuisson, in the same solemn voice; “silence à +la mort!” + +‘There could no longer be any doubt upon the question. From whatever +cause proceeding, his intellect was shaken, and his reason gone. Some +predominant impression, some all-powerful idea, had usurped the seat of +both judgment and memory, and he was a maniac. + +‘In ten days after, General Aubuisson--the distinguished soldier of the +Republic, the _brave_ of Egypt, and the hero of many a battle in +Germany, Poland, and Russia--was a patient of Charenton. A sad and +melancholy figure, wasted and withered like a tree reft by lightning, +the wreck of his former self, he walked slowly to and fro; and though at +times his reason would seem to return free and unclouded, suddenly a +dark curtain would appear to drop over the light of his intellect, and +he would mutter the words, “Silence! silence à la mort!” and speak not +again for several hours after.’ + +The Vicomte de Berlemont, from whom I heard this sad story, was himself +a member of the court-martial on the occasion. For the rest, I visited +Paris about a fortnight after I heard it, and determining to solve my +doubts on a subject of such interest I paid an early visit to Charenton. +On examining the registry of the institution, I found the name of +‘Gustave Guillaume Aubuisson, native of Dijon, aged thirty-two. Admitted +at Charenton the 31st of October, 1813. Incurable.’ And on another page +was the single line, ‘Aubuisson escaped from Charenton, June 16, 1815. +Supposed to have been seen at Waterloo on the 18th.’ + +One more fact remains to be mentioned in this sad story. The old tower +still stands, bleak and desolate, on the mountains of the Vesdre; but it +is now uninhabited save by the sheep that seek shelter within its gloomy +walls, and herd in that spacious chimney. There is another change, too, +but so slight as scarcely to be noticed: a little mound of earth, grass- +grown and covered with thistles, marks the spot where ‘Lazare the +shepherd’ takes his last rest. It is a lone and dreary spot, and the +sighing night-winds as they move over the barren heath seem to utter his +last _consigne_, and his requiem--‘Silence! silence à la mort!’ + + + +CHAPTER XIX. THE TOP OF A DILIGENCE + +‘Summa diligentia,’ as we used to translate it at school, ‘on the top of +the diligence,’ I wagged along towards the Rhine. A weary and a lonely +way it is; indeed, I half believe a frontier is ever thus--a kind of +natural barrier to ambition on either side, where both parties stop +short and say, ‘Well, there’s no temptation there, anyhow!’ + +Reader, hast ever travelled in the _banquette_ of a diligence? I will +not ask you, fair lady; for how could you ever mount to that Olympus of +trunks, carpet-bags, and hat-boxes; but my whiskered friend with the +cheroot yonder, what says he? Never look angry, man--there was no +offence in my question; better men than either of us have done it. + +First, if the weather be fine, the view is a glorious thing; you are not +limited, like your friends in the _coupé_, to the sight of the +conductor’s gaiters, or the leather disc of the postillion’s +‘continuations.’ No; your eye ranges away at either side over those +undulating plains which the Continent presents, unbroken by fence or +hedgerow--one stretch of vast cornfields, great waving woods, +interminable tracts of yellowish pasture-land, with here and there a +village spire, or the pointed roof of some château rising above the +trees. A yellow-earthy byroad traverses the plain, on which a heavy +waggon plods along, the eight huge horses, stepping as free as though no +weight restrained them; their bells are tinkling in the clear air, and +the merry chant of the waggoner chimes in pleasantly with them. It is +somewhat hard to fancy how the land is ever tilled; you meet few +villages; scarcely a house is in sight--yet there are the fragrant +fields; the yellow gold of harvest tints the earth, and the industry of +man is seen on every side. It is peaceful, it is grand, too, from its +very extent; but it is not homelike. No; our own happy land alone +possesses that attribute. _It_ is the country of the hearth and home. +The traveller in France or Germany catches no glances as he goes of the +rural life of the proprietors of the soil. A pale white château, +seemingly uninhabited, stands in some formal lawn, where the hot sun +darts down his rays unbroken, and the very fountain seems to hiss with +heat. No signs of life are seen about; all is still and calm, as though +the moon were shedding her yellow lustre over the scene. Oh how I long +for the merry schoolboy’s laugh, the clatter of the pony’s canter, the +watch-dog’s bark, the squire breathing the morning air amid his woods, +that tell of England! How I fancy a peep into that large drawing-room, +whose windows open to the greensward, letting in a view of distant +mountains and far-receding foreground, through an atmosphere heavy with +the rose and the honeysuckle! Lovely as is the scene, with foliage +tinted in every hue, from the light sprayey hazel to the dull pine or +the dark copper beech--how I prefer to look within where _they_ are met +who call this ‘home!’ And what a paradise is such a home!---- + +But I must think no more of these things. I am a lone and solitary man; +my happiness is cast in a different mould, nor shall I mar it by +longings which never can be realised. + +While I sat thus musing, my companion of the _banquette_, of whom I had +hitherto seen nothing but a blue-cloth cloak and a travelling-cap, came +‘slap down’ on me with a snort that choked him, and aroused me. + +‘I ask your pardon, sir,’ said he in a voice that betrayed Middlesex +most culpably. ‘Je suis--that is, j’ai----’ + +‘Never mind, sir; English will answer every purpose,’ cried I. ‘You have +had a sound sleep of it.’ + +‘Yes, Heaven be praised! I get over a journey as well as most men. Where +are we now--do you happen to know?’ + +‘That old castle yonder, I suspect, is the Alten Burg,’ said I, taking +out my guidebook and directory. ‘The Alten Burg was built in the year +1384, by Carl Ludwig Graf von Löwenstein, and is not without its +historic associations-----’ + +‘Damn its historic associations!’ said my companion, with an energy that +made me start. ‘I wish the devil and his imps had carried away all such +trumpery, or kept them to torture people in their own hot climate, and +left us free here. I ask pardon, sir! I beseech you to forgive my +warmth; you would if you knew the cause, I’m certain.’ + +I began to suspect as much myself, and that my neighbour being insane, +was in no wise responsible for his opinions; when he resumed-- + +‘Most men are made miserable by present calamities; some feel +apprehensions for the future; but no one ever suffered so much from +either as I do from the past. No, sir,’ continued he, raising his voice, +‘I have been made unhappy from those sweet souvenirs of departed +greatness which guidebook people and tourists gloat over. The very +thought of antiquity makes me shudder; the name of Charlemagne gives me +the lumbago; and I’d run a mile from a conversation about Charles the +Bold or Philip van Artevelde. I see what’s passing in your mind; but you +‘re all wrong. I’m not deranged, not a bit of it; though, faith, I might +be, without any shame or disgrace.’ + +The caprices of men, of Englishmen in particular, had long ceased to +surprise me; each day disclosed some new eccentricity or other. In the +very last hotel I had left there was a Member of Parliament planning a +new route to the Rhine, avoiding Cologne, because in the coffee-room of +the ‘Grossen Rheinberg’ there was a double door that everybody banged +when he went in or out, and so discomposed the honourable and learned +gentleman that he was laid up for three weeks with a fit of gout, +brought on by pure passion at the inconvenience. + +I had not long to wait for the explanation in this case. My companion +appeared to think he owed it to himself to ‘show cause’ why he was not +to be accounted a lunatic; and after giving me briefly to understand +that his means enabled him to retire from active pursuits and enjoy his +ease, he went on to recount that he had come abroad to pass the +remainder of his days in peace and tranquillity. But I shall let him +tell his own story in his own words. + +‘On the eighth day after my arrival at Brussels, I told my wife to pack +up; for as Mr. Thysens the lawyer, who promised to write before that +time, had not done so, we had nothing to wait for. We had seen Waterloo, +visited the Musée, skated about in listed slippers through the Palais +d’Orange, dined at Dubos’s, ate ice at Velloni’s, bought half the old +lace in the Rue de la Madelaine, and almost caught an ague in the Allée +Verte. This was certainly pleasure enough for one week; so I ordered my +bill, and prepared “to evacuate Flanders.” Lord help us, what beings we +are! Had I gone down to the railroad by the Boulevards and not by the +Montagne de la Cour, what miseries might I not have been spared! Mr. +Thysens’s clerk met me, just as I emerged from the Place Royale, with a +letter in his hand. I took it, opened, and read:-- + +‘“Sir,--I have just completed the purchase of the beautiful Château of +Vanderstradentendonk, with all its gardens, orchards, pheasantries, +piscinae, prairies, and forest rights, which are now your property. +Accept my most respectful congratulations upon your acquisition of this +magnificent seat of ancient grandeur, rendered doubly precious by its +having been once the favourite residence and château of the great Van +Dyck.” + +‘Here followed a long encomium upon Rubens and his school, which I did +not half relish, knowing it was charged to me in my account; the whole +winding up with a pressing recommendation to hasten down at once to take +possession, and enjoy the partridge shooting, then in great abundance. + +‘My wife was in ecstasy to be the Frow Vanderstradentendonk, with a +fish-pond before the door, and twelve gods and goddesses in lead around +it. To have a brace of asthmatic peacocks on a terrace, and a dropsical +swan on an island, were strong fascinations--not to speak of the +straight avenues leading nowhere, and the winds of heaven blowing +everywhere; a house with a hundred and thirty windows and half as many +doors, none of which would shut close; a garden, with no fruit but crab- +apples; and a nursery, so called, because the playground of all the +brats for a league round us. No matter, I had resolved to live abroad +for a year or two, and one place would do just as well as another; at +least, I should have quietness--that was something; there was no +neighbourhood, no town, no highroad, no excuse for travelling +acquaintances to drop in, or rambling tourists to bore one with letters +of introduction. Thank God! there was neither a battlefield, a +cathedral, a picture, nor a great living poet for ten miles on any side. + +‘Here, thought I, I shall have that peace Piccadilly cannot give. +Cincinnatus-like, I’ll plant my cabbages, feed my turkeys, let my beard +grow, and nurse my rental. Solitude never bored me; I could bear +anything but intrusive impertinence. So far did I carry this feeling, +that on reading Robinson Crusoe I laid down the volume in disgust on the +introduction of his man Friday! + +‘It mattered little, therefore, that the _couleur de rose_ picture the +lawyer had drawn of the château had little existence out of his own +florid imagination; the quaint old building, with its worn tapestries +and faded furniture, suited the habit of my soul, and I hugged myself +often in the pleasant reflection that my London acquaintances would be +puzzling their brains for my whereabouts, without the slightest clue to +my detection. Now, had I settled in Florence, Frankfort, or Geneva, what +a life I must have led! There is always some dear Mrs. Somebody going to +live in your neighbourhood, who begs you ‘ll look out for a house for +her--something very eligible; eighteen rooms well furnished; a southern +aspect; in the best quarter; a garden indispensable; and all for some +forty pounds a year--or some other dear friend who desires you ‘ll find +a governess, with more accomplishments than Malibran and more learning +than Porson, with the temper of five angels, and a “vow in heaven” to +have no higher salary than a college bed-maker. Then there are the +Thompsons passing through, whom you have taken care never to know +before; but who fall upon you now as strangers in a foreign land, and +take the “benefit” of the “Alien Act” in dinners at your house during +their stay. I stop not to enumerate the crying wants of the more lately +arrived resident, all of which are refreshed for your benefit; the +recommendations to butlers who don’t cheat, to moral music-masters, +grave dancing-masters, and doctors who never take fees--every infraction +by each of these individuals in his peculiar calling being set down as a +just cause of complaint against yourself, requiring an animated +correspondence in writing, and concluding with an abject apology and a +promise to cut the delinquent that day, though you owe him a half-year’s +bill. These are all pleasant; not to speak of the curse of disjointed +society, ill-assorted, ill-conceived, unreasonable pretension, vulgar +impertinence, and fawning toadyism on every side, and not one man to be +found to join you in laughing at the whole thing, which would amply +repay one for any endurance. No, thought I, I ‘ve had enough of this! I +‘ll try my barque in quieter waters, and though it’s only a punt, yet +I’ll hold the sculls myself, and that’s something. + +‘So much for the self-gratulation I indulged in, as the old _chaise de +poste_ rattled over the heavy pavement, and drew up short at the portico +of my future dwelling. My wife was charmed with the procession of +villagers who awaited us on the steps, and (although an uglier +population never trod their mother earth in wooden slippers) fancied she +could detect several faces of great beauty and much interest in the +crowd. For my part, I saw nothing but an indiscriminate haze of cotton +nightcaps, striped jackets, blouses, black petticoats and sabots; so, +pushing my way through them, I left the bassoon and the burgomaster to +the united delights of their music and eloquence, and shutting the hall +door threw myself on a seat, and thanked Heaven that my period of peace +and tranquillity was at length to begin. + +‘Peace and tranquillity! What airy visions! Had I selected the post of +cad to an omnibus, a steward to a Greenwich steamer, were I a guide to +the Monument or a waiter at Long’s my life had been one of dignified +repose in comparison with my present existence. + +‘I had not been a week in the château when a travelling Englishman +sprained his ankle within a short distance of the house. As a matter of +course he was brought there, and taken every care of for the few days of +his stay. He was fed, housed, leeched, and stuped, and when at length he +proceeded upon his journey was profuse in his acknowledgments for the +services rendered him; and yet what was the base return of the +ungrateful man? I have scarcely temper to record it. During the very +moment when we were most lavish in our attention to him, he was sapping +the very peace of his benefactors. He learned from the Flemish servants +of the house that it had formerly been the favourite residence of Van +Dyck; that the very furniture was unchanged since his time; the bed, the +table, the chair he had sat on were all preserved. The wretch--am I not +warranted in calling him so?--made notes of all this; before I had been +three weeks in my abode, out came a _Walk in Flanders_, in two volumes, +with a whole chapter about me, headed “Château de Van Dyck.” There we +were, myself and my wife, in every window of the Row: Longman, Hurst, +Rees, Orme, Brown, Green, and Blue, had bought us at a price, and paid +for us; there we were--we, who courted solitude and retirement--to be +read of by every puppy in the West End, and every apprentice in +Cheapside. Our hospitality was lauded, as if I kept open house for all +comers, with “hot chops and brown gravy” at a moment’s notice. The +antiquary was bribed to visit me by the fascinations of a spot “sacred +to the reveries of genius”; the sportsman, by the account of my +“preserves”; the idler, to say he had been there; and the guide- +bookmaker and historical biographer, to vamp up details for a new +edition of _Belgium as it was_, or _Van Dyck and his Contemporaries_. + +‘From the hour of the publication of that horrid book I never enjoyed a +moment’s peace or ease. The whole tide of my travelling countrymen--and +what a flood it is!--came pouring into Ghent. Post-horses could not be +found sufficient for half the demand; the hotels were crowded; +respectable peasants gave up their daily employ to become guides to the +château; and little busts of Van Dyck were hawked about the +neighbourhood by children of four years old. The great cathedral of +Ghent, Van Scamp’s pictures, all the historic remains of that ancient +city were at a discount; and they who formerly exhibited them as a +livelihood were now thrown out of bread. Like the dancing-master who has +not gone up to Paris for the last pirouette, or the physician who has +not taken up the stethoscope, they were reputed old-fashioned and +_passé_; and if they could not describe the Château de Van Dyck, were +voted among the bygones. + +‘The impulse once given, there was no stopping; the current was +irresistible. The double lock on the gate of the avenue, the bulldog at +the hall door, the closed shutters, the cut-away bell-rope, announced a +firm resolution in the fortress not to surrender; but we were taken by +assault, escaladed, and starved out in turns. + +‘Scarcely was the tea-urn on the breakfast-table when they began to pour +in--old and young, the halt, the one-eyed, the fat, the thin, the +melancholy, the merry, the dissipated, the dyspeptic, the sentimental, +the jocose, the blunt, the ceremonious, the courtly, the rude, the +critical, and the free and easy. One came forty miles out of his way, +and pronounced the whole thing an imposition, and myself a humbug; +another insisted upon my getting up at dinner, that he might sit down in +my chair, characterised by the confounded guides as “le fauteuil de Van +Dyck”; a third went so far as to propose lying down in our great four- +post bed, just to say he had been there, though my wife was then in it. +I speak not of the miserable practice of cutting slices off all the +furniture as relics. John Murray took an inventory of the whole contents +of the house for a new edition of his guidebook; and Holman, the blind +traveller, _felt_ me all over with his hand as I sat at tea with my +wife; and last of all, a respectable cheesemonger from the Strand, after +inspecting the entire building from the attics to the cellar, pressed +sixpence into my hand at parting, and said, “Happy to see you, Mr. Van +Dyck, if you come into the city!” + +‘Then the advice and counsel I met with, oral and written, would fill a +volume, and did; for I was compelled to keep an album in the hall for +the visitors’ names. One suggested that my desecration of the temple of +genius would be less disgusting if I dined in my kitchen, and left the +ancient dining-room as the great artist had left it. Another hinted that +my presence in my own house destroyed all the illusion of its historic +associations. A third, a young lady--to judge by the writing--proposed +my wearing a point-beard and lace ruffles, with trunk hose and a feather +in my hat, probably to favour the “illusion” so urgently mentioned by +the other writer, and, perhaps, to indulge visitors like my friend the +cheesemonger. Many pitied me--well might they!--as one insensible to the +associations of the spot; while my very servants, regarding me only as a +show part of the establishment, neglected their duties on every side, +and betook themselves to ciceroneship, each allocating his peculiar +territory to himself, like the people who show the lions and the armour +in the Tower. + +‘No weather was either too hot or too cold, too sultry or too +boisterous; no hour too late or too early; no day was sacred. If the +family were at prayers or at dinner or at breakfast or in bed, it +mattered not; they had come many miles to see the chateau, and see it +they would. “Alas!” thought I, “if, as some learned persons suppose, +individuals be recognisable in the next world, what a melancholy time of +it will be yours, poor Van Dyck! If they make all this hubbub about the +house you lived in, what will they do about your fleshy tabernacle?” + +‘As the season advanced, the crowds increased; and as autumn began, the +conflicting currents to and from the Rhine all met in my bedroom. There +took place all the rendezvous of Europe. Runaway daughters there first +repented in papa’s arms, and profligate sons promised amendment for the +future. Myself and my wife were passed by unnoticed and disregarded amid +this tumult of recognition and salutation. We were emaciated like +skeletons; our meals we ate when we could, like soldiers on a retreat; +and we slept in our clothes, not knowing at what moment the enemy might +be upon us. Locks, bolts, and bars were ineffectual; our resistance only +increased curiosity, and our garrison was ever open to bribery. + +‘It was to no purpose that I broke the windows to let in the north wind +and acute rheumatism; to little good did I try an alarm of fire every +day about two, when the house was fullest; and I failed signally in +terrifying my torturers when I painted the gardener’s wife sky-blue, and +had her placed in the hall, with a large label over the bed, “collapsed +cholera.” Bless your heart! the tourist cares for none of these; and I +often think it would have saved English powder and shot to have exported +half a dozen of them to the East for the siege of Seringapatam. Had they +been only told of an old picture, a teapot, a hearth-brush, or a +candlestick that once belonged to Godfrey de Bouillon or Peter the +Hermit, they would have stormed it under all the fire of Egypt! Well, +it’s all over at last; human patience could endure no longer. We escaped +by night, got away by stealth to Ghent, took post-horses in a feigned +name, and fled from the Château de Van Dyck as from the plague. +Determined no longer to trust to chances, I have built a cottage myself, +which has no historic associations further back than six weeks ago; and +fearful even of being known as the _ci-devant_ possessor of the château, +I never confess to have been in Ghent in my life; and if Van Dyck be +mentioned, I ask if he is not the postmaster at Tervueren. + +‘Here, then, I conclude my miseries. I cannot tell what may be the +pleasure that awaits the _live_ “lion,” but I envy no man the delights +that fall to his lot who inhabits the den of the _dead_ one.’ + + + +CHAPTER XX. BONN AND STUDENT LIFE + +When I look at the heading of this chapter, and read there the name of a +little town upon the Rhine--which, doubtless, the majority of my readers +has visited--and reflect on how worn the track, how beaten the path I +have been guiding them on so long, I really begin to feel somewhat +faint-hearted. Have we not all seen Brussels and Antwerp, Waterloo and +Quatre Bras? Are we not acquainted with Belgium, as well as we are with +Middlesex; don’t we know the whole country, from its cathedrals down to +Sergeant Cotton?--and what do we want with Mr. O’Leary here? And the +Rhine--bless the dear man!--have we not steamed it up and down in every +dampschiffe of the rival companies? The Drachenfels and St. Goar, the +Caub and Bingen, are familiar to our eyes as Chelsea and Tilbury Fort. +True, all true, mesdames and messieurs--I have been your fellow- +traveller myself. I have watched you pattering along, John Murray in +hand, through every narrow street and ill-paved square, conversing with +your commissionaire in such French as it pleased God, and receiving his +replies in equivalent English. I have seen you at table d’hôte, vainly +in search of what you deemed eatable--hungry and thirsty in the midst of +plenty; I have beheld you yawning at the opera, and grave at the +Vaudeville; and I knew you were making your summer excursion of +pleasure, ‘doing your Belgium and Germany,’ like men who would not be +behind their neighbours. And still, with all this fatigue of sea and +land, this rough-riding and railroading, this penance of short bed and +shorter board, though you studied your handbook from the Scheldt to +Schaffhausen, you came back with little more knowledge of the Continent +than when you left home. It is true, your son Thomas--that lamblike +scion of your stock, with light eyes and hair--has been initiated into +the mysteries of _rouge et noir_ and _roulette_; madame, your wife, has +obtained a more extravagant sense of what is becoming in costume; your +daughter has had her mind opened to the fascinations of a French +_escroc_ or a ‘refugee Pole’; and you, yourself, somewhat the worse for +your change of habits, have found the salads of Germany imparting a +tinge of acidity to your disposition. These are, doubtless, valuable +imports to bring back--not the less so, that they are duty free. Yet, +after all, ‘joy’s recollection is no longer joy’; and I doubt if the +retrospect of your wanderings be a repayment for their fatigues. + +‘Would he have us stay at home, Pa?’ lisps out, in pouting accents of +impatience, some fair damsel, whose ringlets alone would make a furore +at Paris. + +Nothing of the kind, my dear. Travel by all means. There’s nothing will +improve your French accent like a winter abroad; and as to your carriage +and air, it is all-essential you should be pressed in the waltz by some +dark-moustached Hungarian or tight-laced Austrian. Your German will fall +all the more trippingly off your tongue that you have studied it in the +land of beer and beetroot; while, as a safeguard against those +distressing sensations of which shame and modesty are the parents, the +air of the Rhine is sovereign, and its watering-places an unerring +remedy. All I bargain for is, to be of the party. Let there be a corner +in a portmanteau, or an imperial, a carriage-pocket, or a courier’s sack +for me, and I’m content. If ‘John’ be your guide, let Arthur be your +mentor. He’ll tell you of the roads; I, of the travellers. + +To him belong pictures and statues, churches, châteaux, and curiosities; +_my_ province is the people--the living actors of the scene, the +characters who walk the stage in prominent parts, and without some +knowledge of whom your ramble would lose its interest. Occasionally, it +is true, they may not be the best of company. Que voulez-vous? ‘If ever +you travel, you mustn’t feel queer,’ as Mathews said or sung--I forget +which. I shall only do my endeavour to deal more with faults than vices, +more with foibles than failings. The eccentricities of my fellow-men are +more my game than their crimes; and therefore do not fear that in my +company I shall teach you bad habits, nor introduce you to low +acquaintances; and above all, no disparagement--and it is with that +thought I set out--no disparagement of me that I take you over a much- +travelled track. If it be so, there’s the more reason you should know +the company whom you are in the habit of visiting frequently; and +secondly, if you accompany me here, I promise you better hereafter; and +lastly, one of the pleasantest books that ever was written was the +_Voyage autour de ma Chambre_. Come, then, is it agreed--are we fellow- +travellers? You might do worse than take me. I’ll neither eat you up, +like your English footmen, nor sell you to the landlord, like your +German courier, nor give you over to brigands, like your Italian valet. +It’s a bargain, then; and here we are at Bonn. + +It is one o’clock, and you can’t do better than sit down to the table +d’hôte: call it breakfast, if your prejudices run high, and take your +place. I have supposed you at ‘Die Sterne’ (The Star), in the little +square of the town; and, certes, you might be less comfortably housed. +The cuisine is excellent, both French and German, and the wines +delicious. The company at first blush might induce you to step back, +under the impression that you had mistaken the salon, and accidentally +fallen upon a military mess. They are nearly all officers of the cavalry +regiments garrisoned at Bonn, well-looking and well-dressed fellows, +stout, bronzed, and soldierlike, and wearing their moustaches like men +who felt hair on the upper lip to be a birthright. If a little too noisy +and uproarious at table, it proceeds not from any quarrelsome spirit: +the fault, in a great measure, lies with the language. German, except +spoken by a Saxon madchen, invariably suggests the idea of a row to an +uninterested bystander; and if Goethe himself were to recite his ballads +before an English audience, I’d venture long odds they’d accuse him of +blasphemy. Welsh and Irish are soft zephyrs compared to it. + +A stray Herr Baron or two, large, portly, responsible-looking men, with +cordons at their button-holes, and pipe-sticks projecting from their +breast-pockets, and a sprinkling of students of the higher class--it is +too dear for the others--make up the party. Of course, there are +English; but my present business is not with them. + +By the time you have arrived at the ‘Rae-braten, with capers’--which on +a fair average, taken in the months of spring and summer, may be after +about an hour and a half’s diligent performance--you’ll have more time +to survey the party, who by this time are clinking their glasses, and +drinking hospitably to one another in champagne; for there is always +some newly returned comrade to be feted, or a colonel’s birthday or a +battle, a poet or some sentimentalism about the Rhine or the Fatherland, +to be celebrated. Happy, joyous spirits, removed equally from the +contemplation of vast wealth or ignominious poverty! The equality so +much talked of in France is really felt in Germany; and however the +exclusives of Berlin and Vienna, or the still more exalted coteries of +Baden or Darmstadt, rave of the fourteen quarterings which give the +_entrée_ to their salons, the nation has no sympathy with these follies. +The unaffected, simple-minded, primitive German has no thought of +assuming an air of distance to one his inferior in rank; and I have +myself seen a sovereign prince take his place at table d’hôte beside the +landlord, and hobnob with him cordially during dinner. + +I do not mean to say that the German has no respect for rank; on the +contrary, none more than he looks up to aristocracy, and reveres its +privileges; but he does so from its association with the greatness of +the Fatherland. The great names of his nobles recall those of the heroes +and sages of whom the traditions of the country bear record; they are +the watchwords of German liberty or German glory; they are the monuments +of which he feels proudest. His reverence for their descendants is not +tinged with any vulgar desire to be thought their equal or their +associate; far from it, he has no such yearnings. His own position could +never be affected by anything in theirs. The skipper of the fishing- +craft might join convoy with the great fleet, but he knows that he only +commands a shallop after all. + +This, be it remarked, is a very different feeling from what we +occasionally see nearer home. I have seen a good deal of student-life in +Germany, and never witnessed anything approaching that process so +significantly termed ‘tuft-hunting’ with us. Perhaps it may be alleged +in answer that rank and riches, so generally allied in this country, are +not so there; and that consequently much of what the world deems the +prestige of condition is wanting to create that respect. Doubtless this +is, to a certain extent, true; but I have seen the descendants of the +most distinguished houses in Germany mixing with the students of a very +humble walk on terms the most agreeable and familiar, assuming nothing +themselves, and certainly receiving no marks of peculiar favour or +deference from their companions. When one knows something of German +character, this does not surprise one. As a people, highly imaginative +and poetic in temperament, dreamy and contemplative, falling back rather +on the past than facing the future, they are infinitely more assailable +by souvenirs than promises; and in this wise the ancient fame of a +Hohenstauffen has a far firmer hold on the attachment of a Prussian than +the hopes he may conceive from his successor. It was by recalling to the +German youth the former glories of the Fatherland, that the beautiful +queen of that country revived the drooping spirit of the nation. It was +over the tomb of the Great Frederick that the monarch swore to his +alliance with Alexander against the invading legions of France. The +songs of Uhland and Goethe, the lyrics of Burger and Korner, have their +source and spirit in the heartfelt patriotism of the people. The great +features of the land, and the more striking traits of national +character, are inextricably woven in their writings, as if allied to +each other; and the Rhine and the male energy of German blood, their +native mountains and their native virtues, are made to reciprocate with +one another; and thus the eternal landmarks of Germany are consecrated +as the altars of its faithfulness and its truth. + +The students are a means of perpetuating these notions. The young German +is essentially romantic. A poet and a patriot, his dreams are of the +greatness of his Fatherland, of its high mission among the nations of +Europe; and however he may exaggerate the claims of his country or +overrate his own efforts in her cause, his devotion is a noble one; and +when sobered down by experience and years, it gives to Germany that race +of faithful and high-souled people, the best guardians of her liberty +and the most attached defenders of her soil. + +A great deal of _mauvaise plaisanterie_ has been expended by French and +English authors on the subject of the German student. The theme was +perhaps an inviting one. Certainly nothing was easier than to ridicule +absurdities in their manner and extravagances in their costume--their +long pipes and their long beards, their long skirts and long boots and +long sabres, their love of beer and their law-code of honour. Russell, +in his little work on Germany--in many respects the only English book +worth reading on that country--has been most unjustly severe upon them. +As to French authors, one never expects truth from _them_, except it +slip out unconsciously in a work of fiction. Still, they have displayed +a more than common spirit of detraction when speaking of the German +student. The truth is, they cannot forget the part these same truths +performed in repelling the French invasion of their country. The spirit +evoked by Kôrner, and responded to from the Hartz to the Black Forest, +was the death-note to the dominant tyranny of France. The patriotism +which in the Basque provinces called into existence the wild Guerillas, +and in the Tyrol created the Jager-bund, in more cultivated Germany +elicited that race of poets and warriors whose war-songs aroused the +nation from its sleep of slavery, and called them to avenge the injuries +of their nation. + +Laugh, then, if you will, at the strange figures whose uncouth costumes +of cap and jack-boot bespeak them a hybrid between a civilian and a +soldier. The exterior is, after all, no bad type of what lies within; +its contradictions are indeed scarcely as great. The spectacles and +moustaches, the note-book beneath the arm and the sabre at the side, the +ink-bottle at the button-hole and the spurs jingling at the heels, are +all the outward signs of that extraordinary mixture of patient industry +and hot-headed enthusiasm, of deep thought and impetuous rashness, of +matter-of-fact shrewdness and poetic fervour, and, lastly, of the most +forgiving temper allied to an unconquerable propensity for duelling. +Laugh if you will at him, but he is a fine fellow for all that; and +despite all the contrarieties of his nature he has the seed of those +virtues which in the peaceful life of his native country grow up into +the ripe fruits of manly truth and honesty. + +I wish you then to think well of the Bursche, and forgive the +eccentricities into which a college life and a most absurd doctrine of +its ordinances will now and then lead him. That wild-looking youth, for +all that he has a sabre-wound across his cheek, and wears his neck bare +like a Malay, despite his savage moustache and his lowering look, has a +soft heart, though it beats behind that mass of nonsensical braiding. He +could recite you for hours long the ballads of Schiller and the lyrics +of Uhland; ah! and sing for you, too, with no mean skill, the music of +Spohr and Weber, accompanying himself the while on the piano, with a +touch that would make your heart thrill. And I am not sure that even in +his wildest moments of enthusiastic folly he is not nearly as much an +object of hope to his country as though he were making a book on the +Derby, or studying ‘the odds’ among the ‘legs’ at Tattersall’s. + +Above all things, I would beg of you not to be too hasty in judging him. +Put not much trust in half what English writers lay to his charge; +believe not one syllable of any Frenchman on the subject--no, not even +that estimable Alexandre Dumas, who represents the ‘Student’ as +demanding alms on the highroad--thus confounding him with the Lehr- +Junker (the travelling apprentice), who by the laws of Germany is +obliged to spend two years in wandering through different countries +before he is permitted to reside permanently in his own. The blunder +would have been too gross for anything but a Frenchman and a Parisian; +but the Rue St. Denis covers a multitude of mistakes, and the Boulevard +de Montmartre is a dispensation to all truth. Howitt, if you can read a +heavy book, will tell you nearly everything a _book_ can tell; but +setting a Quaker to describe Burschen life, was pretty much like sending +a Hindu to report at a county meeting. + +Now, all this time we have been wandering from Bonn and its gardens, +sloping down into the very Rhine, and its beautiful park, the former +pleasure-ground of that palace which now forms the building of the +University. There are few sweeter spots than this. You have escaped from +the long, low swamps of Holland, you have left behind you the land of +marsh and fog, and already the mountainous region of Germany breaks on +the view; the Sieben Gebirge are in sight, and the bold Drachenfels, +with its ruined tower on its summit, is an earnest of the glorious +scenery to come. The river itself looks brighter and fresher; its eddies +seem to sparkle with a lustre they know not when circling along the +swampy shores of Nimmegen. + +Besides, there is really something in a name, and the sound of +Deutschland is pleasanter than that of the country of ‘dull fogs and +dank ditches’; and although I would not have you salute it, like +Voltaire-- + + +‘Adieu, canaille--canards, canaux!’ + +still, be thankful for being where you are, take your coffee, and let us +have a ramble through the Park. + +Alas! the autumn is running into the winter; each breeze that sighs +along the ground is the dirge over the dead leaves that lie strewn +around us. The bare branches throw their gaunt arms to and fro as the +cold grey clouds flit past; the student, too, has donned his fur-lined +mantle, and strides along, with cap bent down, and hurried step. But a +few weeks since, and these alleys were crowded with gay and smiling +groups, lingering beneath the shadow of tall trees, and listening to the +Jager band that played in yonder pavilion. The grey-haired professor +moved slowly along, uncovering his venerable head as some student +passed, and respectfully saluting him; and there too walked his fair +daughters, the ‘frauleins with the yellow hair.’ How calmly sweet their +full blue eyes! what gentleness is written in their quiet gait! Yet, +see! as each bar of the distant waltz is heard beating on the ear, how +their footsteps keep time and mark the measure! Alas! the summer hours +have fled, and with them those calm nights when by the flickering moon +the pathways echoed to the steps of lingering feet now homeward turning. + +I never can visit a University town in Germany without a sigh after the +time when I was myself a Bursche, read myself to sleep each night with +Ludwig Tieck, and sported two broadswords crosswise above my chimney. + +I was a student at Göttingen, the Georgia Augusta; and in the days I +speak of--I know not well what King Ernest has done since--it was rather +a proud thing to be ein Göttinger Bursche. There was considered +something of style to appertain to it above the other Universities; and +we looked down upon a Heidelberger or a Halle man as only something +above a ‘Philister.’ The professors had given a great celebrity to the +University too. There was Stromeyer in chemistry, and Hausman in +philology; Behr in Greek, Shrader in botany; and, greater than all, old +Blumenbach himself, lecturing four days each week on everything he could +think of--natural philosophy, physics, geography, anatomy, physiology, +optics, colours, metallurgy, magnetism, and the whale-fishery in the +South Seas--making the most abstruse and grave subjects interesting by +the charm of his manner, and elevating trivial topics into consequence +by their connection with weightier matters. He was the only lecturer I +ever heard of who concluded his hour to the regret of his hearers, and +left them longing for the continuation. Anecdote and illustration fell +from him with a profusion almost inconceivable and perfectly miraculous, +when it is borne in mind that he rarely was known to repeat himself in a +figure, and more rarely still in a story; and when he had detected +himself in this latter he would suddenly stop short, with an ‘Ach Gott, +I’m growing old,’ and immediately turn into another channel, and by some +new and unheard-of history extricate himself from his difficulty. With +all the learning of a Buffon and a Cuvier, he was simple and unaffected +as a child. His little receptions in the summer months were in his +garden. I have him before me this minute, seated under the wide- +spreading linden-tree, with his little table before him, holding his +coffee and a few books--his long hair, white as snow, escaping beneath +his round cap of dark-green velvet, falling loosely on his shoulders, +and his large grey eyes, now widely opened with astonishment at some +piece of intelligence a boy would have heard without amazement, then +twinkling with sly humour at the droll thoughts passing through his +mind; while around him sat his brother professors and their families, +chatting pleasantly over the little news of their peaceful community -- +the good vraus knitting and listening, and the frauleins demurely +sitting by, wearing a look of mock attention to some learned +dissertation, and ever and anon stealing a sly glance at the handsome +youth who was honoured by an invitation to the soirée. + +How charming, too, to hear them speak of the great men of the land as +their old friends and college companions! It was not the author of +_Wallenstein_ and _Don Carlos_, but Frederick Schiller, the student of +medicine, as they knew him in his boyhood--bold, ardent, and ambitious; +toiling along a path he loved not, and feeling within him the working of +that great genius which one day was to make him the pride of his +Fatherland; and Wieland, strange and eccentric, old in his youth, with +the innocence of a child and the wisdom of a sage; and Hoffman, the +victim of his gloomy imagination, whose spectral shapes and dark +warnings were not the forced efforts of his brain, but the companions of +his wanderings, the beings of his sleep. How did they jest with him on +his half-crazed notions, and laugh at his eccentricities! It was strange +to hear them tell of going home with Hummel, then a mere boy, and how, +as the evening closed in, he sat down to the pianoforte, and played and +sang, and played again for hours long, now exciting their wonder by +passages of brilliant and glittering effect, now knocking at their +hearts by tones of plaintive beauty. There was a little melody he played +the night they spoke of--some short and touching ballad, the inspiration +of the moment--made on the approaching departure of some one amongst +them, which many years after in _Fidelio_ called down thunders of +applause; mayhap the tribute of his first audience was a sweeter homage +after all. + +While thus they chatted on, the great world without and all its mighty +interests seemed forgotten by them. France might have taken another +choleric fit, and been in march upon the Rhine; England might have once +more covered the ocean with her fleets, and scattered to the waves the +wreck of another Trafalgar; Russia might be pouring down her hordes from +the Don and Dnieper--little chance had they of knowing aught of these +things! The orchards that surrounded the ramparts shut out the rest of +Europe, and they lived as remote from all the collisions of politics and +the strife of nations as though the University had been in another +planet. + +I must not forget the old Hofrath Froriep, Ordentliche-Professor von-- +Heaven knows what! No one ever saw his collegium (lecture-room); no one +ever heard him lecture. He had been a special tutor to the Princes--as +the Dukes of Cumberland and Cambridge were then called--about forty +years ago, and he seemed to live upon the memory of those great days +when a Royal Highness took notes beside his chair, and when he addressed +his class as ‘Princes and Gentlemen!’ What pride he felt in his clasp of +the Guelph, and an autograph letter of the Herzog von Clarence, who once +paid him a visit at his house in Gottingen! It was a strange thing to +hear the royal family of England spoken thus of among foreigners, who +neither knew our land nor its language. One was suddenly recalled to the +recollection of that Saxon stock from which our common ancestry +proceeded--the bond of union between us, and the source from which so +many of the best traits of English character take their origin. The love +of truth, the manly independence, the habits of patient industry which +we derived from our German blood are not inferior to the enterprising +spirit and the chivalrous daring of Norman origin. + +But to return to the Hofrath, or Privy Councillor Froriep, for so was he +most rigidly styled. I remember him so well as he used to come slowly +down the garden-walk, leaning on his sister’s arm. He was the junior by +some years, but no one could have made the discovery now; the thing +rested on tradition, however, and was not disputed. The Fräulein Martha +von Froriep was the daguerreotype of her brother. To see them sitting +opposite each other was actually ludicrous; not only were the features +alike, but the expressions tallied so completely that it was as if one +face reflected the other. Did the professor look grave, the Fräulein +Martha’s face was serious; did he laugh, straightway her features took a +merry cast; if his coffee was too hot, or did he burn his fingers with +his pipe, the old lady’s sympathies were with him still. The Siamese +twins were on terms of distant acquaintanceship, compared with the +instinctive relation these two bore each other. + +How was it possible, you will ask, that such an eternal similarity +should have marked their dispositions? The answer is an easy one. The +fräulein was deaf, perfectly destitute of hearing. The last recorded act +of her auditory nerves was on the occasion of some public rejoicing, +when twenty-four large guns were discharged in a few seconds of time, +and by the reverberation broke every window in Göttingen; the old lady, +who was knitting at the time, merely stopped her work and called out +‘Come in!’ thinking it was a tap at the room door. To her malady, then, +was it owing that she so perfectly resembled the professor, her brother. +She watched him with an anxious eye; his face was the dial that +regulated every hour of her existence; and as the telegraph repeats the +signal that is made to it, yet knows not the interpretation of the sign, +so did she signalise the passing emotions of his mind long perhaps after +her own could take interest in the cause. + +Nothing had a stranger effect, however, than to listen to the +professor’s conversation, to which the assent of the deaf old lady +chimed in at short and regular intervals. For years long she had been in +the habit of corroborating everything he said, and continued the +practice now from habit; it was like a clock that struck the hour when +all its machinery had run down. And so, whether the Hofrath descanted on +some learned question of Greek particles, some much-disputed fact of +ancient history, or, as was more often the case, narrated with German +broadness some little anecdote of his student life, the old lady’s ‘Ja, +ja, den sah ich selbst; da war ich auch!’ (Yes, yes, I saw it myself; I +was there, too!) bore testimony to the truth of Tacitus or Herodotus, +or, more remarkable still, to these little traits of her brother’s +youthful existence, which, to say the least, were as well +uncorroborated. + +The Hofrath had passed his life as a bachelor--a circumstance which +could not fail to surprise, for his stories were generally of his love +adventures and perils; and all teemed with dissertations on the great +susceptibility of his heart, and his devoted admiration of female +beauty--weaknesses of which it was plain he felt vain, and loved to hear +authenticated by his old associates. In this respect Blumenbach indulged +him perfectly--now recalling to his memory some tender scene, or some +afflicting separation, which invariably drew him into a story. + +If these little reminiscences possessed not all the point and interest +of more adventurous histories, to me at least they were more amusing by +the force of truth, and by the singular look, voice, and manner of him +who related them. Imagine, then, a meagre old man, about five feet two, +whose head was a wedge with the thin side foremost, the nose standing +abruptly out, like the cut-water of a man-o’-war gig; a large mouth, +forming a bold semicircle, with the convexity downwards, the angles of +which were lost in a mass of wrinkles on his withered cheeks; two +fierce-looking, fiery, little grey eyes set slantwise in his head +without a vestige of eyelash over them. His hair combed back with great +precision, and tied behind into a queue, had from long pulling gradually +drawn the eyebrows upwards to double their natural height, where they +remained fixed, giving to this uncouth face an expression of everlasting +surprise--in fact, he appeared as if he were perpetually beholding the +ghost of somebody. His voice was a strange, unnatural, clattering sound, +as though the machinery of speech had been left a long while without +oiling, and could not work flippantly; but to be sure, the language was +German, and that may excuse much. + +Such was the Herr Hofrath Froriep--once, if you were to believe himself, +a lady-killer of the first water. Indeed, still, when he stretched forth +his thin and twisted shanks attired in satin shorts and black silk +stockings, a gleam of conscious pride would light up his features, and +he would seem to say to himself, ‘These legs might do some mischief +yet.’ Caroline Pichler, the novelist, had been one of his loves, and, if +you believed himself, a victim to his fascinations. However, another +version of the tale had obtained currency, and was frequently alluded to +by his companions at those moments when a more boastful spirit than they +deemed suitable animated his discourse; and at such times I remarked +that the Hofrath became unusually sensitive, and anxious to change the +subject. + +It was one evening, when we sat somewhat later than our wont in the +garden, tempted by the delicious fragrance of the flowers and the mild +light of a new moon, that at last the Hofrath’s madchen made her +appearance, lantern in hand, to conduct him home. She carried on her arm +a mass of cloaks, shawls, and envelopes that would have clothed a +procession, with which she proceeded leisurely and artistically to dress +up the professor and his sister, until the impression came over the +bystanders that none but she who hid them in that mountain of wearables +would ever be able to discover them again. + +‘Ach Gott,’ exclaimed the Hofrath, as she crowned him with a quilted +nightcap, whose jaws descended and fastened beneath the chin like an +antique helmet, leaving the miserable old face, like an uncouth pattern, +in the middle of the Berlin embroidery--‘Ach Gott, but for that!’ + +‘But for that!’ reiterated old Hausman, in a solemn tone, as if he knew +the secret grief his friend alluded to, and gave him all his sympathy. + +‘Sit down again, Froriep,’ said Blumenbach; ‘it is an hour too soon for +young folk like us to separate. We’ll have a glass of Rosenthaler, and +you shall tell us that story.’ + +‘Be it so,’ said the Hofrath, as he made signs to the madchen that he +would cast his skin. ‘Ich bin dabei (I ‘m ready).’ + + +‘Wi’ tippenny we fear nae evil; Wi’ usquebaugh we ‘d face the devil,’ + +quoth Burns; and surely Tarn’s knowledge of human nature took a wide +circuit when he uttered those words. The whole philosophy of temptation +is comprised in the distich, and the adage of coming up ‘to a man’s +price’ has no happier illustration; and certainly, had the poet been a +Bursche in Germany, he could not have conveyed the ‘sliding scale’ of +professors’ agreeability under a more suitable formula. He who would be +civil with a pipe becomes communicative with coffee, and brotherly with +beer; but he opens every secret of his nature under the high-pressure +power of a flask of Rhenish. The very smack of the Hofrath’s lips as he +drained his glass to the bottom, and then exclaimed in a transport, ‘Er +ist zum küssen, der Wein!’ announced that the folding-doors of his heart +stood wide open, and that he might enter who would. + +‘Rosenthaler was Goethe’s favourite,’ quoth Stromeyer; ‘and he had a +good taste in wine.’ + +‘Your great folk,’ said Hausman, ‘ever like to show some decided +preference to one vintage above the rest; Napoleon adopted chambertin, +Joseph the Second drank nothing but tokay, and Peter the Great found +brandy the only fluid to his palate.’ + +‘A plague on their fancies!’ interrupted old Blumenbach. ‘Let us have +the story!’ + +‘Ah, well, well,’ said the Hofrath, throwing up his eyes with an air of +sentimentalism, ‘so you shall. Love’s young dream was sweet, after all! +We were in the Hartz,’ continued he, at once springing into his story +with a true Demosthenic abruptness--‘we were in the Hartz Mountains, +making a little tour, for it was semester, and all the classes were +closed in the University. There was Tieck, and Feldtbourg the Dane, and +Upsal, and old Langendorf of Jena, and Grotchen von Zobelschein, and +Mina Upsal, and Caroline, and Martha there--she, poor thing, was getting +deaf at the time, and could not take the same pleasure as the rest of +us. She was always stupid, you know.’ + +Here he looked over at her, when she immediately responded-- + +‘Yes, yes, what he says is true.’ + +‘Each morning we used to set off up the mountains, botanising and +hammering among the limestone rocks, and seeking for cryptogamia and +felspar, lichens and jungermannia and primitive rock--mingling our +little diversions with pleasant talk about the poets, and reciting +verses to one another from Hans Sachs and the old writers, and chatting +away about Schiller: the “Lager” was just come out, and more than one +among us could scarcely believe it was Frederick did it. + +‘Tieck and I soon found that we were rivals; for before a week each of +us was in love with Caroline. Now, Ludwig was a clever fellow, and had a +thousand little ways of ingratiating himself with a pretty woman--and a +poetess besides. He could come down every day to breakfast with some ode +or sonnet, or maybe a dream; and then he was ready after dinner with his +bit of poetry, which sometimes, when he found a piano, he ‘d set to +music; or maybe in the evening he’d invent one of those strange +rigmarole stories of his, about a blue-bottle fly dying for love of a +white moth or some superannuated old drone bee, retiring from public +life, and spending his days reviling the rest of the world. You know his +nonsense well; but somehow one could not help listening, and, what’s +worse, feeling interest in it. As for Caroline, she became crazed about +gnats and spiders, and fleas, and would hear for whole days long the +stories of their loves and sorrows. + +‘For some time I bore up as well as I could. There was a limit--Heaven +be thanked!--to that branch of the creation; and as he had now got down +to millepedes, I trusted that before the week was over he ‘d have +reached mites, beyond which it was impossible he could be expected to +proceed. Alas! I little knew the resources of his genius; for one +evening, when I thought him running fast aground, he sat down in the +midst of us, and began a tale of the life and adventures of the Herr +Baron von Beetroot, in search of his lost love the Fräulein von +Cucumber. This confounded narrative had its scene in an old garden in +Silesia, where there were incidents of real beauty and interest +interwoven, ay, and verses that would make your heart thrill. Caroline +could evidently resist no longer. The Baron von Beetroot was ever +uppermost in her mind; and if she ate Gurken-salat, it brought the tears +into her eyes. In this sad strait I wandered out alone one evening, and +without knowing it reached the “Rase Mühle,” near Oltdorf. There I went +in and ordered a supper; but they had nothing but thick-milk and kalte- +schade. * + + +* Thick-milk--a mess of sour cream thickened with sugar and crumbs of +bread _Kallte-schade_--the same species of abomination, the only +difference being beer, for cream, for the fluid. + +No matter, thought I--a man in such grief as mine need little care what +he eats; and I ordered both, that I might afterwards decide which I’d +prefer. They came, and were placed before me. Himmel und Erde! what did +I do but eat the two!--beer and cream, cream and beer, pepper and sugar, +brown bread and nutmeg! Such was my abstraction, that I never noticed +what I was doing till I saw the two empty bowls before me. “I am a dead +Hofrath before day breaks,” said I, “and I’ll make my will”; but before +I could put the plan into execution I became very ill, and they were +obliged to carry me to bed. From that moment my senses began to wander; +exhaustion, sour beer, and despair were all working within me, and I was +mad. It was a brief paroxysm, but a fearful one. A hundred and fifty +thousand ridiculous fancies went at racing speed through my mind, and I +spent the night alternately laughing and crying. My pipe, that lay on +the chair beside the bed, figured in nearly every scene, and performed a +part in many a strange adventure. + +‘By noon the others learned where I was, and came over to see me. After +sitting for half an hour beside me they were going away, when I called +Caroline and Martha back. Caroline blushed; but, taking Martha’s arm, +she seated herself upon a sofa, and asked in a timid voice what I wished +for. + +‘“To hear before I die,” replied I; “to listen to a wonderful vision I +have seen this night.” + +“A vision,” said Caroline; “oh, what was it?” + +‘“A beautiful and a touching one. Let me tell it to you. I will call it +‘The-never-to-be-lost-sight-of, though not-the-less-on-that-account-to- +be-concealed, Loves of the Mug and the Meerschaum.’” + +‘Caroline sprang to my side as I uttered these words, and as she wiped +the tears from her eyes she sobbed forth-- + +‘“Let me but hear it! let me but hear it!” + +‘“Sit down,” said I, taking her hand and pressing it to my lips--“sit +down, and you shall.” With that I began my tale. I suppose,’ continued +the Hofrath, ‘you don’t wish to have the story?’ + +‘Gott bewahre (Heaven forbid)!’ broke in the whole company in a breath. +‘Leave the Mug and the Meerschaum, and go on with Caroline!’ + +‘Well, from that hour her heart was mine. Ludwig might call all the +reptiles that ever crawled, every vegetable that ever grew, to his aid-- +the victory was with me. He saw it, and, irritated by defeat, returned +to Berlin without bidding us even farewell; and we never heard of him +till we saw his new novel of _Fortunio_. But to go on. The day after +Tieck left us was my birthday, and they all arranged to give me a little +fête; and truly nothing could be prettier. The garden of the inn was a +sweet spot, and there was a large linden like this, where the table was +spread; and there was a chair all decked with roses and myrtle for me-- +Caroline herself had done it; and they had composed a little hymn in +honour of me, wherein were sundry compliments to my distinction in +science and poesy, the gifts of my mind and the graces of my person. +Ach, ja! I was handsome then. + + +‘Well, well, I must close my tale--I cannot bear to think of it even +now. Caroline came forward, dressed in white, with a crown of roses and +laurel leaves intertwined, and approached me gracefully, as I sat +waiting to receive her--all the rest ranged on either side of me. + + +‘Auf seine Stirne, wo das Licht-----’ + +(Upon that brow where shines the light) + +said Caroline, raising the chaplet. + +‘“Ach, Du Heiliger!” screamed Martha, who only that instant saw I was +bareheaded, “the dear man will catch his death of cold!” and with that +she snatched this confounded nightcap from her pocket, and rushing +forward clapped it on my head before I could know it was done. I +struggled and kicked like one possessed, but it was of no use; she had +tied the strings in a black knot, and they could neither be loosened nor +broken. “Be still there!” said she; “thou knowest well that at fifty- +three----” You can conceive,’ said the Hofrath in a parenthesis, ‘that +her passion obliterated her memory. At fifty-three one can’t play the +fool like at twenty.’ + +‘Ach, ja! it was over with me for ever. Caroline screamed at the cap, +first laughing, then crying, and then both; the rest nearly died of it, +and so did I. Caroline would never look at me after, and I came back +home, disappointed in my love--and all because of a woollen nightcap.’ + +When the Hofrath concluded, he poured the remainder of the Rosenthaler +into his glass, and bowing to each in turn, wished us good-night, while +taking the Fraulein Martha’s arm they both disappeared in the shade, as +the little party broke up and each wended his way homeward. + + + +CHAPTER XXI. THE STUDENT + +If I were not sketching a real personage, and retailing an anecdote once +heard, I should pronounce the Hofrath von Froriep a fictitious +character, for which reason I bear you no ill-will if you incline to +that opinion. I have no witness to call in my defence. There were but +two Englishmen in Gottingen in my day; one of them is now no more. Poor +fellow! he had just entered the army; his regiment was at Corfu, and he +was spending the six months of his first leave in Germany. We chanced to +be fellow-travellers, and ended by becoming friends. When he left me, it +was for Vienna, from which after a short stay he departed for Venice, +where he purchased a yacht, and with eight Greek sailors sailed for a +cruise through the Ionian Islands. He was never seen alive again; his +body, fearfully gashed and wounded, was discovered on the beach at +Zante. His murderers, for such they were, escaped with the vessel, and +never were captured. Should any Sixty-first man throw his eye over these +pages he will remember that I speak of one beloved by every one who knew +him. With all the heroic daring of the stoutest heart, his nature was +soft and gentle as a child’s. Poor G----! some of the happiest moments +of my life were spent with you; some of the saddest, in thinking over +your destiny. + +You must take my word for the Hofrath, then, good reader. They who read +the modern novels of Germany--the wild exaggerations of Fouqué and +Hoffman, Musaeus and Tieck--will comprehend that the story of himself +has no extravagance whatever. To ascribe language and human passions to +the lower animals, and even to the inanimate creation, is a favourite +German notion, the indulgence of which has led to a great deal of that +mysticism which we find in their writings; and the secret sympathies of +cauliflowers and cabbages for young ladies in love is a constant theme +among this class of novelists. + +A word now of the students, and I have done. Whatever the absurdities in +their code of honour, however ludicrous the etiquette of the ‘comment’ +as it is called, there is a world of manly honesty and true-heartedness +among them. There is nothing mean or low, nothing dishonourable or +unworthy in the spirit of the Burschen-schaft. Exaggerated ideas of +their own importance, an overweening sense of their value to the +Fatherland, there are in abundance, as well as a mass of crude, +unsettled notions about liberty and the regeneration of Germany. But, +after all, these are harmless fictions; they are not allied to any evil +passions at the time, they lead to no bad results for the future. The +murder of Kotzebue, and the attempt on the life of Napoleon by Staps, +were much more attributable to the mad enthusiasm of the period than to +the principles of the Student-league. The spirit of the nation revolted +at the tyranny they had so long submitted to, and these fearful crimes +were the agonised expression of endurance pushed to madness. Only they +who witnessed the frantic joy of the people when the tide of fortune +turned against Napoleon, and his baffled legions retreated through +Germany on their return from the Russian campaign, can understand how +deeply stored were the wrongs for which they were now to exact +vengeance. The _Völker Schlacht_ (the ‘people’s slaughter’), as they +love to call the terrible fight of Leipsic, was the dreadful recompense +of all their sufferings. + +When the French Revolution first broke out, the German students, like +many wiser and more thinking heads than theirs in our own country, were +struck with the great movement of a mighty people in their march to +liberty; but when, disgusted with the atrocities that followed, they +afterwards beheld France the first to assail the liberties and trample +on the freedom of every other country, they regarded her as a traitor to +the cause she once professed. And while their apathy in the early wars +of the republican armies marked their sympathy with the wild notions of +liberty of which Frenchmen affected to be the apostles in Europe, yet +when they saw the lust of conquest and the passion for dominion usurp +the place of those high-sounding virtues--_Liberté, Egalité_--the +reverse was a tremendous one, and may well excuse, if excuse were +needful, the proud triumph of the German armies when they bivouacked in +the streets of Paris. + +The changed fortunes of the Continent have of course obliterated every +political feature in the student life of Germany; or if such still +exist, it takes the form merely of momentary enthusiasm in favour of +some banished professor, or a Burschen festival in honour of some martyr +of the Press. Still their ancient virtues survive, and the German +student is yet a type--one of the few remaining---of the Europe of +thirty years ago. Long may he remain so, say I; long may so interesting +a land have its national good faith and brotherly affection rooted in +the minds of its youth; long may the country of Schiller, of Wieland, +and of Goethe possess the race of those who can appreciate their +greatness, or strive to emulate their fame! + +I leave to others the task of chronicling their beer orgies, their wild +festivals, and their duels; and though not disposed to defend them on +such charges, I might, were it not invidious, adduce instances nearer +home of practices little more commendable. At those same festivals, at +many of which I have been present, I have heard music that would shame +most of our orchestras, and listened to singing such as I have never +heard surpassed except within the walls of a grand opera. And as to +their duelling, the practice is bad enough in all conscience; but still +I would mention one instance, of which I myself was a witness, and +perhaps even in so little fertile a field we may find one grain of +goodly promise. + +Among my acquaintances in Gôttingen were two students, both Prussians, +and both from the same small town of Magdebourg. They had been school- +fellows, and came together to the University, where they lived together +on terms of brotherly affection, which even there, where friendship +takes all the semblance of a sacred compact, was the subject of remark. +Never were two men less alike, however, than these. Eisendecker was a +bold, hotheaded fellow, fond of all the riotous excesses of Burschen +life; his face, seamed with many a scar, declared him a ‘hahn,’ as in +student phrase a confirmed duellist is termed. He was ever foremost in +each scheme of wild adventure, and continually being brought up before +the senate on some charge of insubordination. Von Mühry, his companion, +was exactly the opposite. His sobriquet--for nearly every student had +one--was ‘der Zahme (the gentle),’ and never was any more appropriate. +His disposition was mildness itself. He was very handsome, almost +girlish in his look, with large blue eyes and fine, soft silky hair, +which, Germanlike, he wore upon his neck. His voice--the index of his +nature--soft, low, and musical, would have predisposed you at once in +his favour. Still, those disparities did not prevent the attachment of +the two youths; on the contrary, they seemed rather to strengthen the +bond between them--each, as it were, supplying to the other the +qualities which Nature had denied him. They were never separate in +lecture-room, at home, or in the _allée_ (as the promenade was called) +or in the garden, where each evening the students resorted to sup, and +listen to the music of the Jâger band. Eisendecker and Mühry were names +that no one ever heard separated, and when one appeared the other was +never more than a few yards off. + +Such was their friendship, when an unhappy incident occurred to trouble +its even course, and sow dissension between these who never had known a +passing difference in their lives. The sub-rector of Göttingen was in +the habit of giving little receptions every week, to which many of the +students were invited, and to which Eisendecker and Mühry were +frequently asked, as they both belonged to the professor’s class. In the +quiet world of a little University town, these soirées were great +occasions; and the invited plumed themselves not a little on the +distinction of a card which gave the privilege of bowing in the Herr +professor’s drawing-room, and kissing the hand of his fair daughter the +Frederica von Ettenheim, the belle of Göttingen. Frederica was the +prettiest German girl I ever saw; for this reason, that having been +partly educated at Paris, French _espièglerie_ relieved what had been +otherwise the too regular monotony of her Saxon features, and imparted a +character of sauciness--or _fierté_ is a better word--to that quietude +which is too tame to give the varied expression so charming in female +beauty. The _esprit_, that delicious ingredient which has been so +lamentably omitted in German character, she had imbibed from her French +education; and in lieu of that plodding interchange of flat commonplaces +which constitute the ordinary staple of conversation between the young +of opposite sexes beyond the Rhine, she had imported the light, delicate +tone of Parisian raillery--the easy and familiar gaiety of French +society, so inexpressibly charming in France, and such a boon from +heaven when one meets it by accident elsewhere. + +Oh, confess it, ye who, in the dull round of this world’s so-called +pleasure, in the Eryboean darkness of the dinners and evening parties of +your fashionable friends, sit nights long, speaking and answering, half +at random, without one thought to amuse, without one idea to interest +you--what pleasure have you felt when some chance expression, some +remark--a mere word, perhaps--of your neighbour beside you, reveals that +she has attained that wondrous charm, that most fascinating of all +possessions--the art to converse; that neither fearful of being deemed +pedantic on the one hand, or uninformed on the other, she launches forth +freely on the topic of the moment, gracefully illustrating her meaning +by womanly touches of sensibility and delicacy, as though to say, these +lighter weapons were her own peculiar arms, while men might wield the +more massive ones of sense and judgment. Then with what lightness she +flits along from theme to theme, half affecting to infer that she dares +not venture deep, yet showing every instant traits of thoughtfulness and +reflection! + +How long since have you forgotten that she who thus holds you entranced +is the brunette, with features rather too bold than otherwise; that +those eyes which now sparkle with the fire of mind seemed but half an +hour ago to have a look of cold effrontery? Such is the charm of +_esprit_; and without it the prettiest woman wants her greatest charm. A +diamond she may be, and as bright and of purest water; but the setting, +which gives such lustre to the stone, is absent, and half the brilliancy +of the gem is lost to the beholder. + +Now, of all tongues ever invented by man, German is the most difficult +and clumsy for all purposes of conversation. You may preach in it, you +may pray in it, you may hold a learned argument, or you may lay down +some involved and intricate statement--you may, if you have the gift, +even tell a story in it, provided the hearers be patient, and some have +gone so far as to venture on expressing a humorous idea in German; but +these have been bold men, and their venturous conduct is more to be +admired than imitated. At the same time, it is right to add that a +German joke is a very wooden contrivance at best, and that the praise it +meets with is rather in the proportion of the difficulty of the +manufacture than of the superiority of the article--just as we admire +those Indian toys carved with a rusty nail, or those fourth-string +performances of Paganini and his followers. + +And now to come back to the students, whom mayhap you deem to have been +forgotten by me all this time, but for whose peculiar illustration my +digression was intended--it being neither more nor less than to show +that if Frederica von Ettenheim turned half the heads in Göttingen, +Messrs. Eisendecker and Mühry were of the number. What a feature it was +of the little town, her coming to reside in it! What a sweet atmosphere +of womanly gracefulness spread itself like a perfume through those old +salons, whose dusty curtains and moth-eaten chairs looked like the +fossils of some antediluvian furniture! With what magic were the old +ceremonials of a professor’s reception exchanged for the easier habits +of a politer world! The venerable dignitaries of the University felt the +change, but knew not where it lay, and could not account for the +pleasure they now experienced in the vice-rector’s soirees; while the +students knew no bounds to the enthusiastic admiration, and ‘Die +Ettenheim’ reigned in every heart in Göttingen. + +Of all her admirers none seemed to hold a higher place in her favour +than Von Mühry. Several causes contributed to this, in addition to his +own personal advantages and the distinction of his talents, which were +of a high order. He was particularly noticed by the vice-rector, from +the circumstance of his father holding a responsible position in the +Prussian Government; while Adolphe himself gave ample promise of one day +making a figure in the world. He was never omitted in any invitation, +nor forgotten in any of the many little parties so frequent among the +professors; and even where the society was limited to the dignitaries of +the college, some excuse would ever be made by the vice-rector to have +him present, either on the pretence of wanting him for something, or +that Frederica had asked him without thinking. + +Such was the state of this little world when I settled in it, and took +up my residence at the Meissner Thor, intending to pass my summer there. +The first evening I spent at the vice-rector’s, the matter was quite +clear to my eyes. Frederica and Adolphe were lovers. It was to no +purpose that when he had accompanied her on the piano he retreated to a +distant part of the room when she ceased to sing. It signified not that +he scarcely ever spoke to her, and when he did, but a few words, +hurriedly and in confusion. Their looks met once; I saw them exchange +one glance--a fleeting one, too--but I read in it their whole secret, +mayhap even more than they knew themselves. Well had it been, if I alone +had witnessed this, but there was another at my side who saw it also, +and whispered in my ear, ‘Der Zahme is in love.’ I turned round--it was +Eisendecker: his face, sallow and sickly, while large circles of dark +olive surrounded his eyes, and gave him an air of deep suffering. ‘Did +you see that?’ said he suddenly, as he leaned his hand on my arm, where +it shook like one in ague. + +‘Did you see that?’ + +‘What--the flower?’ + +‘Yes, the flower. It was she dropped it, when she crossed the room. You +saw him take it up, didn’t you?’ + +The tone he spoke in was harsh and hissing, as if he uttered the words +with his teeth clenched. It was clear to me now that he, too, was in +love with Frederica, and I trembled to think of the cruel shock their +friendship must sustain ere long. + +A short time after, when I was about to retire, Eisendecker took my arm, +and said, ‘Are you for going home? May I go with you?’ I gave a willing +assent, our lodgings being near, and we spent much of every day in each +other’s chambers. It was the first time we had ever returned without +waiting for Mühry; and fearing what a separation, once begun, might lead +to, I stopped suddenly on the stairs, and said, as if suddenly +remembering--‘By-the-bye, we are going without Adolphe.’ + +Eisendecker’s fingers clutched me convulsively, and while a bitter laugh +broke from him, he said, ‘You wouldn’t tear them asunder, would you?’ +For the rest of the way he never spoke again, and I, fearful of +awakening the expression of that grief which, when avowed, became +confirmed, never opened my lips, save to say, ‘Good-night.’ + +I never intended to have involved myself in a regular story when I began +this chapter, nor must I do so now, though, sooth to say, it would not +be without its interest to trace the career of these two youths, who now +became gradually estranged from each other, and were no longer to be +seen, as of old, walking with arms on each other’s shoulder--the most +perfect realisation of true brotherly affection. Day by day the distance +widened between them; each knew the secret of the other’s heart, yet +neither dared to speak of it. From distrust there is but a short step to +dislike--alas! it is scarcely even a step. They parted. + +Every one knows that the reaction which takes place when some long- +standing friendship has been ruptured is proportionate to the warmth of +the previous attachment. Still the cause of this, in a great measure, is +more attributable to the world about us than to ourselves; we make +partisans to console us for the loss of one who was our confidant, and +in the violence of _their_ passions we are carried away as in a current. +The students were no exception to this theory; scarcely had they ceased +to regard each other as friends when they began to feel as enemies. +Alas! is it not ever so? Does not the good soil, which, when cultivated +with care, produce the fairest flowers and the richest fruits, rear up, +when neglected and abandoned, the most noxious weeds and the rankest +thistles? And yet it was love for another--that passion so humanising in +its influence, so calculated to assuage the stormy and vindictive traits +of even a savage nature--it was love that made them thus. To how many is +the ‘light that lies in woman’s eyes’ but a beacon to lure to ruin? When +we think that but one can succeed where so many strive, what sadness and +misery must not result to others? + +Another change came over them, and a stranger still. Eisendecker, the +violent youth, of ungovernable temper and impetuous passion, who loved +the wildest freak of student-daring, and ever was the first to lead the +way in each mad scheme, had now become silent and thoughtful; a gentle +sadness tempered down the fierce traits of his hot nature, and he no +longer frequented his old haunts of the cellar and the fighting school, +but wandered alone into the country, and spent whole days in solitude. +Von Muhry, on the other hand, seemed to have assumed the castaway mantle +of his once friend: the gentle bearing and almost submissive tone of his +manner were exchanged for an air of conscious pride--a demeanour that +bespoke a triumphant spirit; and the quiet youth suddenly seemed changed +to a rash, high-spirited boy, reckless from very happiness. During this +time, Eisendecker had attached himself particularly to me; and although +I had always hitherto preferred Von Muhry, the feeling of the other’s +unhappiness, a sense of compassion for suffering, which it was easy to +see was great, drew me closer in my friendship towards him; and, at +last, I scarcely saw Adolphe at all, and when we did meet, a mutual +feeling of embarrassment separated and estranged us from each other. +About this time I set off on an excursion to the Hartz Mountains, to +visit the Brocken, and see the mines; my absence, delayed beyond what I +first intended, was above four weeks, and I returned to Gottingen just +as the summer vacation was about to begin. + +About five leagues from Gottingen, on the road towards Nordheim, there +is a little village called Meissner, a favourite resort of the students, +in all their festivals; while, at something less than a mile distant, +stands a water-mill, on a little rivulet among the hills--a wild, +sequestered spot, overgrown with stunted oak and brushwood. A narrow +bridle-path leads to it from the village, and this was the most approved +place for settling all those affairs of honour whose character was too +serious to make it safe to decide nearer the University: for, strangely +enough, while by the laws of the University duelling was rigidly +denounced, yet whenever the quarrel was decided by the sword, the +authorities never or almost never interfered, but if a pistol was the +weapon, the thing at once took a more serious aspect. + +For what reasons the mills have been always selected as the appropriate +scenes for such encounters, I never could discover; but the fact is +unquestionable, and I never knew a University town that did not possess +its ‘water-privileges’ in this manner. + +Towards the mill I was journeying at the easy pace of my pony, early on +a summer’s morning, preferring the rural breakfast with the miller--for +they are always a kind of innkeepers--to the fare of the village. I +entered the little bridle-path that conducted to his door, and was +sauntering listlessly along, dreaming pleasantly, as one does, when the +song of the lark and the heavy odour of dew-pressed flowers steep the +heart in happiness all its own, when, behind me, I heard the regular +tramp of marching. I listened; had I been a stranger to the sound, I +should have thought them soldiers, but I knew too well the measured +tread of the student, and I heard the jingling of their heavy sabres--a +peculiar clank a student’s ear cannot be deceived in. I guessed at once +the object of their coming, and grew sick at heart to think that the +storm of men’s stubborn passions and the strife of their revengeful +nature should desecrate a peaceful spot like this. I was about to turn +back, disgusted at the thought, when I remembered I must return by the +same path, and meet them; but even this I shrank from. The footsteps +came nearer and nearer, and I had barely time to move off the path into +the brushwood, and lead my pony after, when they turned the angle of the +way. They who walked first were muffled in their cloaks, whose high +collars concealed their faces; but the caps of many a gaudy colour +proclaimed them students. At a little distance behind, and with a slower +step, came another party, among whom I noticed one who walked between +two others, his head sunk on his bosom, and evidently overcome with +emotions of deep sorrow. A movement of my horse at this instant +attracted their attention towards the thicket; they stopped, and a voice +called out my name. I looked round, and there stood Eisendecker before +me. He was dressed in deep mourning, and looked pale and worn, his black +beard and moustache deepening the haggard expression of features, to +which the red borders of his eyelids, and his bloodless lips, gave an +air of the deepest suffering. ‘Ah, my friend,’ said he, with a sad +effort at a smile, ‘you are here quite _à propos_. I am going to fight +Adolphe this morning.’ A fearful presentiment that such was the case +came over me the instant I saw him; but when he said so, a thrill ran +through me, and I grew cold from head to foot. + +‘I see you are sorry,’ said he, tenderly while he took my hand within +both of his; ‘but you would not blame me--indeed you would not--if you +knew all.’ + +‘What, then, was the cause of this quarrel? How came you to an open +rupture?’ + +He turned round, and as he did so his face was purple, the blood +suffused every feature, and his very eyeballs seemed as if about to +burst. He tried to speak; but I only heard a rushing noise like a +hoarse-drawn breath. + +‘Be calm, my dear Eisendecker,’ said I. ‘Cannot this be settled +otherwise than thus?’ + +‘No, no!’ said he, in the voice of indignant passion I used to hear from +him long before, ‘never!’ He waved his hand impatiently as he spoke, and +turned his head from me. At the same moment one of his companions made a +sign with his hand towards me. + +‘What!’ whispered I in horror--‘a blow?’ + +A brief nod was the reply. Alas! from that minute all hope left me. Too +well I knew the desperate alternative that awaited such an insult. +Reconciliation was no longer to be thought of. I asked no more, but +followed the group along the path towards the mill. + +In a little garden, as it was called--we should rather term it a close- +shaven grass-plot--where some tables and benches were placed under the +shade of large chestnut-trees, Adolphe von Muhry stood, surrounded by a +number of his friends. He was dressed in his costume as a member of the +Prussian club of the Landsmanschaft--a kind of uniform of blue and +white, with a silver braiding on the cuffs and collar--and looked +handsomer than ever I saw him. The change his features had undergone +gave him an air of manliness and confidence that greatly improved him, +and his whole carriage indicated a degree of self-reliance and energy +which became him perfectly. A faint blush coloured his cheek as he saw +me enter, and he lifted his cap straight above his head and saluted me +courteously, but with an evident effort to appear at ease before me. I +returned his salute mournfully--perhaps reproachfully, too, for he +turned away and whispered something to a friend at his side. + +Although I had seen many duels with the sword, it was the first time I +was present at an affair with pistols in Germany; and I was no less +surprised than shocked to perceive that one of the party produced a +dice-box and dice, and placed them on a table. + +Eisendecker all this time sat far apart from the rest, and, with folded +arms and half-closed eyelids, seemed to wait in patience for the moment +of being called on. + +‘What are they throwing for, yonder?’ whispered I to a Saxon student +near me. + +‘For the shot, of course,’ said he; ‘not but that they might spare +themselves the labour. Eisendecker must fire first; and as for who comes +second after him----’ + +‘Is he so sure as that?’ asked I in terror; for the fearful vision of +blood would not leave my mind. + +‘That is he. The fellow that can knock a bullet off a champagne bottle +at five-and-twenty paces may chance to hit a man at fifteen.’ + +‘Mühry has it,’ cried out one of those at the table; and I heard the +words repeated from mouth to mouth till they reached Eisendecker, as he +moved his cane listlessly to and fro in the mill-stream. + +‘Remember Ludwig,’ said his friend, as he grasped his arm with a +stronger clasp; ‘remember what I told you.’ + +The other nodded carelessly, and merely said, ‘Is all ready?’ + +‘Stand here, Eisendecker,’ said Mühry’s second, as he dropped a pebble +in the grass. + +Mühry was already placed, and stood erect, his eyes steadily directed to +his antagonist, who never once looked towards him, but kept his glance +fixed straight in front. + +‘You fire first, sir,’ said Mühry’s friend, while I could mark that his +voice trembled slightly at the words. ‘You may reserve your fire till I +have counted twenty after the word is given.’ + +As he spoke he placed the pistol in Eisendecker’s hand, and called out-- + +‘Gentlemen, fall back, fall back; I am about to give the word. Herr +Eisendecker, are your ready?’ + +A nod was the reply. + +‘Now!’ cried he, in a loud voice; and scarcely was the word uttered when +the discharge of the pistol was heard. So rapid, indeed, was the motion, +that we never saw him lift his arm; nor could any one say what direction +the ball had taken. + +‘I knew it, I knew it,’ muttered Eisendecker’s friend, in tones of +agony. ‘All is over with him now.’ + +Before a minute elapsed, the word to fall back was again given, and I +now beheld Von Mühry standing with his pistol in hand, while a smile of +cool but determined malice sat on his features. + +While the second repeated the same words over to him, I turned to look +at Eisendecker, but he evinced no apparent consciousness of what was +going on about him; his eyes, as before, were bent on vacancy; his pale +face, unmoved, showed no signs of passion. In an instant the fearful +‘Now’ rang out, and Mühry slowly raised his arm, and, levelling his +pistol steadily, stood with his eye bent on his victim. While the deep +voice of the second slowly repeated one--two--three--four--never was +anything like the terrible suspense of that moment. It seemed as if the +very seconds of human life were measuring out one by one. As the word +‘ten’ dropped from his lips, I saw Mühry’s hand shake. In his revengeful +desire to kill his man, he had waited too long, and now he was growing +nervous; he let fall his arm to his side, and waited for a few seconds, +then raising it again, he took a steady aim, and at the word ‘nineteen’ +fired. + +A slight movement of Eisendecker’s head at this instant brought his face +full front; and the bullet, which would have transfixed his head, now +merely passed along his cheek, tearing a rude flesh-wound as it went. + +A half-cry broke from Mühry: I heard not the word; but the accent I +shall never cease to remember. It was now Eisendecker’s time; and as the +blood streamed down his cheek, and fell in great drops upon his neck and +shoulders, I saw his face assume the expression it used to wear in +former days. A terrible smile lit up his dark features, and a gleam of +passionate vengeance made his eye glow like that of a maniac. + +‘I am ready--give the word,’ cried he, in frantic impatience. + +But Mühry’s second, fearful of giving way to such a moment of passion, +hesitated; when Eisendecker again called out, ‘The word, sir, the word!’ +and the bystanders, indignant at the appearance of unfairness, repeated +the cry. + +The crowd fell back, and the word was given. Eisendecker raised his +weapon, poised it for a second in his hand, and then, elevating it above +his head, brought it gradually down, till, from the position where I +stood, I could see that he aimed at the heart. + +His hand was now motionless, as if it were marble; while his eye, +riveted on his antagonist, seemed to be fixed on one small spot, as +though his whole vengeance was to be glutted there. Never was suspense +more dreadful, and I stood breathless, in the expectation of the fatal +flash, when, with a jerk of his arm, he threw up the pistol and fired +above his head; and then, with a heart-rending cry of ‘Mein bruder, mein +brader!’ he rushed into Mühry’s arms, and fell into a torrent of tears. + +The scene was indeed a trying one, and few could witness it unmoved. As +for me, I turned away completely overcome; while my heart found vent in +thankfulness that such a fearful beginning should end thus happily. + +‘Yes,’ said Eisendecker, as we rode home together that evening, when, +after a long silence, he spoke; ‘yes, I had resolved to kill him; but +when my finger was even on the trigger, I saw a look upon his features +that reminded me of those earlier and happier days when we had but one +home and one heart, and I felt as if I was about to become the murderer +of my brother.’ + +Need I add that they were friends for ever after? + +But I must leave Göttingen and its memories too. They recall happy days, +it is true; but they who made them so--where are they? + + + +CHAPTER XXII. SPAS AND GRAND DUKEDOMS + +It was a strange ordinance of the age that made watering-places equally +the resort of the sick and the fashionable, the dyspeptic and the +dissipated. One cannot readily see by what magic chalybeates can +minister to a mind diseased, nor how sub-carbonates and proto-chlorides +may compensate to the faded spirit of an _ennuyée_ fine lady for the +bygone delights of a London or a Paris season; much less, through what +magnetic influence gambling and gossip can possibly alleviate affections +of the liver, or roulette be made a medical agent in the treatment of +chronic rheumatism. + +It may be replied that much of the benefit--some would go farther, and +say all--to be expected from the watering-places is derivable from +change of scene and habit of living, new faces, new interests, new +objects of curiosity, aided by agreeable intercourse, and what the +medical folk call ‘pleasant and cheerful society.’ This, be it known, is +no chance collocation of words set down at random; it is a _bona fide_ +technical--as much so as the hardest Greek compound that ever floored an +apothecary. ‘Pleasant and cheerful society!’ they speak of it as they +would of the latest improvement in chemistry or the last patent +medicine--a thing to be had for asking for, like opodeldoc or Morison’s +pills. A line of treatment is prescribed for you, winding up in this one +principle; and your physician, as he shakes your hand and says ‘good- +bye,’ seems like an angel of benevolence, who, instead of consigning you +to the horrors of the pharmacopoeia and a sick-bed, tells you to pack +off to the Rhine, spend your summer at Ems or Wiesbaden, and, above all +things, keep early hours, and ‘pleasant, cheerful society.’ + +Oh, why has no martyr to the miseries of a ‘liver’ or the sorrows of +‘nerves’ ever asked his M.D. where--where is this delightful intercourse +to be found? or by what universal principle of application can the same +tone of society please the mirthful and the melancholy, the man of +depressed, desponding habit, and the man of sanguine, hopeful +temperament? How can the indolent and lethargic soul be made to derive +pleasure from the hustling energies of more excited natures, or the +fidgety victim of instability sympathise with the delights of quiet and +tranquillity? He who enjoys ‘rude health’--the phrase must have been +invented by a fashionable physician; none other could have deemed such a +possession an offensive quality--may very well amuse himself by the +oddities and eccentricities of his fellow-men, so ludicrously exhibited +_en scene_ before him. But in what way will these things appear to the +individual with an ailing body and a distempered brain? It is impossible +that contrarieties of temperament would ever draw men into close +intimacy during illness. The very nature of a sick man’s temper is to +undervalue all sufferings save his own and those resembling his. The +victim of obesity has no sympathies with the martyr to atrophy; he may +envy, he cannot pity him. The man who cannot eat surely has little +compassion for the woes of him who has the ‘wolf,’ and must be muzzled +at meal times. The result, then, is obvious. The gloomy men get together +in groups, and croak in concert; each mind brings its share of +affliction to the common fund, and they form a joint-stock company of +misery that rapidly assists their progress to the grave; while the +nervously excited ones herd together by dozens, suggesting daily new +extravagances and caprices for the adoption of one another, till there +is not an air-drawn dagger of the mind unfamiliar to one among them; and +in this race of exaggerated sensibility they not uncommonly tumble over +the narrow boundary that separates eccentricity from something worse. + +This massing together of such people in hundreds must be ruinous to +many, and few can resist the depressing influence which streets full of +pale faces suggest, or be proof against the melancholy derivable from a +whole promenade of cripples. There is something indescribably sad in +these rendezvous of ailing people from all parts of Europe--north, +south, east, and west; the snows of Norway and the suns of Italy; the +mountains of Scotland and the steppes of Russia; comparing their +symptoms and chronicling their sufferings; watching with the egotism of +sickness the pallor on their neighbour’s cheek, and calculating their +own chances of recovery by the progress of some other invalid. + +But were this all, the aspect might suggest gloomy thoughts, but could +not excite indignant ones. Unhappily, however, there is a reverse to the +medal. ‘The pleasant and cheerful society,’ so confidently spoken of by +your doctor has another representation than in the faces of sick people. +These watering-places are the depots of continental vice, the licensed +bazaars of foreign iniquity, the sanctuary of the outlaw, the home of +the swindler, the last resource of the ruined debauchee, the one spot of +earth beneath the feet of the banished defaulter. They are the +parliaments of European blackguardism, to which Paris contributes her +_escrocs_, England her ‘legs’ from Newmarket and Doncaster, and Poland +her refugee counts--victims of Russian cruelty and barbarity. + +To begin--and to understand the matter properly, you must begin by +forgetting all you have been so studiously storing up as fact from the +books of Head, Granville, and others, and merely regard them as the +pleasant romances of gentlemen who like to indulge their own easy +humours in a vein of agreeable gossip, or the more profitable occupation +of collecting grand-ducal stars and snuff-boxes. + +These delightful pictures of Brunnens, secluded in the recesses of wild +mountain districts inaccessible save to some adventurous traveller; the +peaceful simplicity of the rural life; the primitive habits of a happy +peasantry; the humble but contented existence of a little community +estranged from all the shocks and strife of the world; the lovely +scenery; the charming intercourse with gifted and cultivated minds; the +delightful reunions, where Metternich, Chateaubriand, and Humboldt are +nightly to be met, mixing among the rest of the company, and chatting +familiarly with every stranger; the peaceful tranquillity of the spot-- +an oasis in the great desert of the world’s troubles, where the +exhausted mind and tired spirit may lie down in peace and take its rest, +lulled by the sound of falling water or the strains of German song -- +these, I say, cleverly put forward, with ‘eight illustrations taken on +the spot,’ make pretty books--pleasant to read, but not less dangerous +to follow; while exaggerated catalogues of cures and recoveries, the +restoration from sufferings of a life long, the miraculous list of sick +men made sound ones through the agency of sulphurates and sub- +carbonates, are still more to be guarded against as guides to the spas +of Germany. + +Now, I would not for a moment be supposed to throw discredit on the +efficiency of Aix or Ems, Wiesbaden or Töplitz, or any of them. In some +cases they have done, and will do, it may be hoped, considerable benefit +to many sufferers. I would merely desire to slide in, amidst the +universal paen of praise, a few words of caution respecting the _morale_ +of these watering-places; and in doing so I shall be guided entirely by +the same principle I have followed in all the notes of my ‘Loiterings,’ +rather to touch follies and absurdities than to go deeper down into the +strata of crimes and vices; at the same time, wherever it may be +necessary for my purpose, I shall not scruple to cut into the quick if +the malady need it. + +And to begin--imagine in the first place a Grand-Duchy of such moderate +proportions that its sovereign dare not take in the ‘Times’ newspaper; +for if he opened it, he must intrude upon the territory of his +neighbours. His little kingdom, however, having all the attributes of a +real state, possesses a minister for the home and a minister for the +foreign department; it has a chancellor of the exchequer and a +secretary-at-war; and if there were half a mile of seaboard, would +inevitably have a board of admiralty and a _ministre de la marine_. It +is also provided with a little army, something in the fashion of +Bombastes Furioso’s, where each arm of the service has its one +representative, or that admirable Irish corps, which, when inquired +after by the General of the District, ‘Where is the Donegal Light +Horse?’ was met by the answer of, ‘Here I am, yer honour!’ And though +certainly nothing could possibly be more modestly devised than the whole +retinue of state, though the _fantassins_ be fifty, and the cavalry +five, still they must be fed, clothed, and kept in tobacco--a question +of some embarrassment, when it is considered that the Grand-Duchy +produces little grain and less grass, has neither manufacture nor trade, +nor the means of providing for other wants than those of a simple and +hard-working peasantry. There is, however, a palace, with its +accompaniments of grand maréchal, equerries, cooks, and scullions--a +vast variety of officials of every grade and class, who must be provided +for. How is this done? Simply enough, when the secret is once known-- +four yards of green baize, with two gentlemen armed with wooden rakes, +and a box full of five-franc pieces. Nothing more is wanting. For the +mere luxury of the thing, as a matter of pin-money to the grand-duchess, +if there be one, you may add a roulette-table; but _rouge et noir_ will +supply all the trumpery expedients of taxation, direct and indirect. You +neither want collectors, custom-houses, nor colonies; you may snap your +fingers at trade and import duties, and laugh at the clumsy contrivances +by which other chancellors provide for the expenditure of other +countries. + +The machinery of revenue reduces itself to this: first catch a Jew. For +your petty villainies any man will suffice; but for your grand schemes +of wholesale plunder, there is nothing like an Israelite; besides, he +has a kind of pride in his vocation. For the privilege of the gambling- +table he will pay munificently, he will keep the whole grand-ducal realm +in beer and beetroot the year through, and give a very respectable privy +purse to the sovereign besides. To him you deliver up all the nations of +the earth outside your own little frontier, none of those within it +being under any pretext admitted inside the walls of the gambling-house; +for, like the sick apothecary, you know better than to take anything in +the shop. You give him a carte-blanche, sparing the little realm of +Hesse-Homburg, to cheat the English, pigeon the Russians, ruin French, +Swedes, Swiss, and Yankees to his heart’s content; you set no limits to +his grand career of roguery; you deliver, bound, into his hands all +travellers within your realm, to be fleeced as it may seem fit. What +care you for the din of factories or the clanking hammers of the +foundries? The rattle of the dice-box and the scraping of the croupier’s +mace are pleasanter sounds, and fully as suggestive of wealth. You need +not descend into the bowels of the earth for riches; the gold, ready +stamped from the mint, comes bright and shining to your hand. Fleets may +founder and argosies may sink, but your dollars come safely in the +pockets of their owners, and are paid, without any cost of collection, +into the treasury of the State. Manchester may glut the earth with her +printed calicoes, Sheffield may produce more carving-knives than there +are carvers. _Your_ resources can suffer no such casualties as these; +you trade upon the vices of mankind, and need never dread a year of +scarcity. The passion for play is more contagious than the smallpox, and +unhappily the malady returns after the first access. Every gambler who +leaves fifty napoleons in your territory is bound in a kind of +recognisance to return next year and lose double the sum. Each loss is +but an instalment of the grand total of his ruin, and you have +contracted for that. + +But even the winner does not escape you. A hundred temptations are +provided to seduce him into extravagance and plunge him into expense-- +tastes are suggested, and habits of luxury inculcated, that turn out sad +comforters when a reverse of fortune compels him to a more limited +expenditure; so that when you extinguish the unlucky man by a summary +process, you reserve a lingering death for the more fortunate one. In +the language of the dock, it is only ‘a long day’ he obtains, after all. + +How pleasant, besides, to reflect that the storms of political strife, +which agitate other heads, never reach yours. The violence of party +spirit, the rancour of the press, are hushed before the decorous silence +of the gaming-table and the death-like stillness of _rouge et noir_. +There is no need of a censorship when there is a croupier. The +literature of your realm is reduced to a card, to be pricked by the pin +of a gamester; and men have no heads for the pleasures of reading, when +stared in the face by ruin. Other states may occupy themselves with +projects of philanthropy and benevolence, they may project schemes of +public usefulness and advantage, they may advance the arts of +civilisation, and promote plans of national greatness; your course is an +easier path, and is never unsuccessful. + +But some one may say here, How are these people to live? I agree at once +with the sentiment--no one is more ready to assent to that excellent +adage--‘Il faut que tout le monde vive, even grand-dukes.’ But there are +a hundred ways of eking out subsistence in cheap countries, without +trenching on morality. The military service of Austria, Prussia, and +Russia is open to them, should their own small territories not suffice +for moderate wants and wishes. In any case I am not going to trouble my +head with providing for German princes, while I have a large stock of +nephews and nieces little better off. All I care for at present is to +point out the facts of a case, and not to speculate how they might be +altered. + +Now, to proceed. In proportion as vice is more prevalent, the decorum of +the world would appear to increase, and internal rottenness and external +decency bear a due relation to each other. People could not thus violate +the outward semblance of morality, by flocking in hundreds and tens of +hundreds to those gambling states, those _rouge et noir_ dependencies, +those duchies of the dice-box. A man’s asking a passport for Baden would +be a tacit averment, ‘I am going to gamble.’ Ordering post-horses for +Ems would be like calling for ‘fresh cards’; and you would as soon +confess to having passed a few years in Van Diemen’s Land as acknowledge +a summer on the Rhine. + +What, then, was to be done? It was certainly a difficulty, and might +have puzzled less ingenious heads than grand-ducal advisers. They, +however, soon hit upon the expedient. They are shrewd observers, and +clever men of the world. They perceived that while other eras have been +marked by the characteristic designation of brass, gold, or iron, +_this_, with more propriety, might be called the age of bile. Never was +there a period when men felt so much interested in their stomachs; at no +epoch were mankind so deeply concerned for their livers; this passion-- +for it is such--not being limited to the old or feeble, to the broken +and shattered constitution, but extending to all age and sex, including +the veteran of a dozen campaigns and the belle of a London season, the +hard-lined and seasoned features of a polar traveller, and the pale, +soft cheek of beauty, the lean proportions of shrunken age, and the +plump development of youthful loveliness. In the words of the song-- + + +‘No age, no profession, no station is free.’ + +It is the universal mania of our century, and we may expect that one +day, our vigorous pursuit of knowledge on the subject will allow us to +be honourably classed with the equally intelligent seekers for the +philosopher’s stone. With this great feature of the time, then, nothing +was easier than to comply. The little realm of Hesse-Homburg might not +have attractions of scenery or society; its climate might, like most of +those north of the Alps, be nothing to boast of; its social advantages +being a zero, what could it possess as a reason--a good, plausible +reason, for drawing travellers to its frontier? Of course, a Spa!-- +something very nauseous and very foul smelling, as nearly as possible +like a warm infusion of rotten eggs, thickened with red clay. Germany +happily abounds in these; Nature has been kind to her, at least +underground, and you have only to dig two feet in any limestone district +to meet with the most sovereign thing on earth for stomachic +derangements. + +The Spa discovered, a doctor was found to analyse it, and another to +write a book upon it. Nothing more were necessary. The work, translated +into three or four languages, set forth all the congenial advantages of +pumps and promenades, sub-carbonates, tables d’hôte, waltzing, and +mineral waters. The pursuit of health no longer presented a grim goddess +masquerading in rusty black and a bald forehead, but a lovely nymph, in +a Parisian toilette, conversing like a Frenchwoman, and dancing like an +Austrian. + +Who would not be ill, I wonder? Who would not discover that Hampshire +was too high and Essex too low, Devon too close and Cumberland too +bracing? Who would not give up his village M.D., and all his array of +bottles, with their long white cravats, for a ramble to the Rhine, where +luxurious living, belles, and balls abounded, and where _soit dit en +passant_, the _rouge et noir_ table afforded the easy resource of +supplying all such pleasures, so that you might grow robust and rich at +once, and while imbibing iron into your blood, lay up a stock of gold +with your banker? Hence the connection between Spas and gambling; hence +the fashionable flocking to those healthful spots by thousands who never +felt illness; hence the unblushing avowal of having been a month at +Baden by those who would flinch at acknowledging an hour in a ‘hell’; +and hence, more important than all, at least to one individual +concerned, the source of that real alchemy by which a grand-duke, like +Macheath, can + + +‘Turn all his lead to gold.’ Well may he exclaim, with the gallant +captain-- + +‘Fill every glass!’ + +Were the liquor champagne or tokay, it could not be a hundredth part as +profitable; and the whole thing presents a picture of ‘hocussing’ on the +grandest scale ever adopted. + +The fifteen glasses of abomination demand a walk of half an hour, or a +sojourn in the Cursaal. The Cursaal is a hell! there is no need to mince +it. The taste for play is easily imbibed--what bad taste is not?--and +thus, while you are drawing the pump, the grand-duke is diving into your +pocket. Here, then--I shall not add a word--is the true state of the +Spas of Germany. As I believe it is customary to distinguish all writers +on these ‘fountains of health’ by some mark of princely favour +proportionate to their services of praise, I beg to add, if the Gross +Herzog von Hesse-Homburg deems the present a suitable instance for +notice, that Arthur O’Leary will receive such evidence of grand-ducal +approbation with a most grateful spirit, and acknowledge the same in +some future volume of his ‘Loiterings,’ only requesting to mention that +when Theodore Hook--poor fellow!--was dining once with a London alderman +remarkable for the display and the tedium of his dinners, he felt +himself at the end of an hour and a half’s vigorous performance only in +the middle of the entertainment; upon which he laid down his knife, and +in a whisper uttered: ‘_Eating_ more is out of the question; so I ‘ll +take the rest out in money.’ + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. THE TRAVELLING PARTY + +I have already taken occasion to indoctrinate my reader on the subject +of what I deem the most perfect species of table d’hôte. May I now beg +of him, or her, if she will be kind enough, to accompany me to the +_table-monstre_ of Wiesbaden, Ems, or Baden-Baden? We are at the +Cursaal, or Shuberts, or the ‘Hof von Nassau’ at Wiesbaden. Four hundred +guests are assembled, their names indicative of every land of Europe, +and no small portion of America; the mixture of language giving the +impression of its being a grand banquet to the ‘operatives at Babel,’ +but who, not satisfied with the chances of misunderstanding afforded by +speaking their own tongues to foreigners, have adventured on the more +certain project of endeavouring to being totally unintelligible, by +speaking languages with which they are unacquainted; while in their +dress, manner, and appearance, the great object seems to be an accurate +imitation of some other country than their own. Hence Frenchmen affect +to seem English, English to look like Prussians, Prussians to appear +Poles, Poles to be Calmucks. Your ‘elegant’ of the Boulevard de Ghent +sports a ‘cut away’ like a Yorkshire squire, and rides in cords; your +Londoner wears his hair on his shoulders, and his moustaches, like a +Pomeranian count; Turks find their way into tight trousers and +‘Wellingtons’; and even the Yankees cannot resist the general tendency +to transmutation, but take three inches off their hair behind. + +Nothing is more amusing than these general congresses of European +vagrancy. Characters the most original meet you at every step, and +display most happily traits you never have the opportunity to inspect at +home. For so it is, the very fact of leaving home with most people seems +like an absolution from all the necessities of sustaining a part. They +feel as though they had taken off the stage finery in which they had +fretted away their hours before, and stand forth themselves _in +propria_. Thus your grave Chancery lawyer becomes a chatty pleasant man +of the world, witty and conversable; your abstruse mathematician, +leaving conic sections behind him, talks away with the harmless +innocence of a child about men and politics; and even your cold +‘exclusive’ bids a temporary farewell to his ‘morgue,’ and answers his +next neighbour at table without feeling shocked at his obtrusion. + +There must be some secret sympathy--of whose operations we know nothing- +-between our trunks and our temperaments, our characters and our carpet- +bags; and that by the same law which opens one to the inspection of an +official at the frontier, the other must be laid bare when we pass +across it. How well would it have been for us, if the analogy had been +pushed a little further, that the fiscal regulations adopted in the +former were but extended to the latter, and that we had applied the +tariff to the morals, as well as to the manufactures, of the Continent. + +It was in some such musing as this I sat in a window of the ‘Nassau,’ at +Wiesbaden, during the height of the season of----. Strangers were +constantly arriving, and hourly was the reply ‘no room’ given to the +disconsolate travellers, who peered from their carriages with the road- +sick look of a long journey. As for myself, I had been daily and nightly +transferred from one quarter of the hotel to another--now sleeping in an +apartment forty feet square, in a bed generally reserved for royalty, +now bivouacking under the very slates; one night exposed to the +incessant din of the street beside my windows, the next, in a remote +wing of the building, where there were no bells in the chambers, nor any +waiter was ever known to wander. In fact, I began to believe that they +made use of me to air the beds of the establishment, and was seriously +disposed to make a demand for some compensation in my bill; and if I +might judge from the pains in my bones I contracted in ‘Lit de Parade,’ +I must have saved her Majesty of Greece, who was my successor in it, a +notable attack of rheumatism. To this shuttlecock state of existence the +easiness of my nature made me submit tamely enough, and I never dreamed +of rebellion. + +I was sitting conning over to myself the recollections of some faces I +had seen before, when the head waiter appeared before me, with a request +that I would be kind enough to give up my place at the table, which was +No. 14, to a gentleman lately arrived, and who desired to sit near his +friends in that vicinity. ‘To be sure,’ said I at once; ‘I have no +acquaintance here, and 114 will do me as well as 14--place me where you +like.’ At the same time, it rather puzzled me to learn what the +individual could be like who conceived such a violent desire to be in +the neighbourhood of some Hamburg Jews--for such were the party around +me--when the waiter began to make room for a group that entered the +room, and walked up to the end of that table. A glance told they were +English. There was an elderly man, tall and well-looking, with the air +‘gentleman’ very legibly written on his quiet, composed features; the +carriage of his head, and a something in his walk, induced me to believe +him military. A lady leaned on his arm, some thirty years his junior--he +was about sixty-six or seven--whose dress and style were fashionable, +and at the same time they had not that perfect type of unpretending +legitimacy that belongs essentially to but one class. She was, in fact, +_trop bien mise_ for a table d’hote; for although only a morning +costume, there was a display about it which was faulty in its taste; her +features, without being handsome, were striking, as much for the +carriage of her head as anything in themselves. There was an air of good +looks, as though to say, ‘If you don’t think me handsome, the fault is +yours.’ Her eyes were of a bluish grey, large and full, with lightly +arched brows; but the mouth was the most characteristic feature--it was +firm and resolute-looking, closely compressed, and with a slight +protrusion of the lower lip, that said as plainly as words could say it, +‘I will, and that’s enough.’ In walking, she took some pains to display +her foot, which, with all the advantages of a Parisian shoe, was +scarcely as pretty as she conceived it, but on the whole was well +formed, and rather erring on the score of size than symmetry. + +They were followed by three or four young men, of whom I could only +remark that they wore the uniform appearance of young Englishmen of good +class, very clean-looking faces, well-brushed hair, and well-fitting +frock-coats. One sported a moustache of a dirty-yellow colour, and +whiskers to match, and by his manner, and a certain half-shut-eye kind +of glance, proclaimed himself the knowing man of the party. + +While they were taking their places, which they did at once on entering, +I heard a general burst of salutations break from them in very welcome +accent: ‘Oh, here he is, here he comes. Ah, I knew we should see him.’ +At the same instant, a tall, well-dressed fellow leaned over the table +and shook hands with them all in succession. + +‘When did you arrive?’ said he, turning to the lady. + +‘Only an hour ago; Sir Marmaduke would stay at Frankfort yesterday, to +see Duvernet dance, and so we were detained beyond our time.’ + +The old gentleman half blushed at this charge, and while a look of +pleasure showed that he did not dislike the accusation, he said-- + +‘No, no; I stayed to please Calthorpe.’ + +‘Indeed!’ said the lady, turning a look of very peculiar, but +unmistakable, anger at him of the yellow moustache. ‘Indeed, my lord!’ + +‘Oh yes, that is a weakness of mine,’ said he, in an easy tone of +careless banter, which degenerated to a mutter, heard only by the lady +herself. + +‘I ought to have a place somewhere here about,’ said the tall man. +‘Number 14 or 15, the waiter said. Hallo, _garçon_-----’ + +At this he turned round, and I saw the well-remembered face of my +fellow-traveller, the Honourable Jack Smallbranes. He looked very hard +at me, as if he were puzzled to remember where or when we had met, and +then, with a cool nod, said, ‘How d’ye do?--over in England lately?’ + +‘Not since I had the pleasure of meeting you at Rotterdam. Did you go +far with the alderman’s daughters?’ + +A very decided wink and a draw down of the brows cautioned me to silence +on that subject; but not before the lady had heard my question, and +looked up in his face with an expression that said--‘I’ll hear more of +that affair before long.’ + +‘Monsieur has given you his place, sir,’ said the waiter, arranging a +chair at No. 14. ‘I have put _you_ at 83.’ + +‘All right,’ replied Jack, as if no recognition were called for on his +part, and that he was not sorry to be separated from one with an +unpleasant memory. + +‘I am shocked, sir,’ said the lady, addressing me in her blandest +accents, ‘at our depriving you of your place, but Mr. Carrisbrook will, +I ‘m sure, give you his.’ + +While I protested against such a surrender, and Mr. Carrisbrook looked +very much annoyed at the proposal, the lady only insisted the more, and +it ended in Mr. Carrisbrook--one of the youths already mentioned--being +sent down to 83, while I took up my position in front of the party in +his place. + +I knew to what circumstance I was indebted for this favourable notice; +she looked up to me as a kind of king’s evidence, whenever the +Honourable Jack should be called up for trial, and already I had seen a +great deal into the history and relative position of all parties. Such +was the state of matters when the soup appeared. + +And now, to impart to my readers, as is my wont, such information as I +possessed afterwards, and not to keep them waiting for the order in +which I obtained it: the party before me consisted of Sir Marmaduke +Lonsdall and his lady--he, an old general officer of good family and +connections, who, with most unexceptionable manners and courtly address, +had contrived to spend a very easy, good-for-nothing existence, without +ever seeing an hour’s service, his clubs and his dinner-parties filling +up life tolerably well, with the occasional excitement arising from who +was in and who was out, to season the whole. Sometimes a Lord of the +Treasury, with a seat for a Government borough, and sometimes +patriotically sitting among the opposition when his friends were out, he +was looked upon as a very honourable, straightforward person, who could +not be ‘overlooked’ when his party were distributing favours. + +My Lady Lonsdall was a _soi-disant_ heiress, the daughter of some person +unknown in the city, the greater part of whose fortune was unhappily +embarked in Poyais Scrip--a fact only ascertained when too late, and, +consequently, though discoursing most eloquently in a prospectus about +mines of gold and silver, strata of pearl necklaces, and diamond ear- +rings, all ready to put on, turned out an unfortunate investment, and +only realised an article in the _Times_, headed ‘another bubble +speculation.’ Still, however, she was reputed very rich, and Sir +Marmaduke received the congratulations of his club on the event with the +air of a conqueror. She married him simply because, having waited long +and impatiently for a title, she was fain to put up at last with a +baronet. Her ambition was to be in the fashionable world; to be among +that sect of London elect who rule at Almack’s and dictate at the West +End; to occupy her portion of the _Morning Post_, and to have her name +circulated among the illustrious few who entertain royalty, and receive +archdukes at luncheon. If the Poyais investment, in its result, denied +the means of these extravagances, it did not, unhappily, obliterate the +taste for them; and my lady’s ambition to be fashionable was never at a +higher spring-tide than when her fortunes were at the ebb. Now, certes, +there are two ways to London distinction--rank and wealth. A fair union +of both will do much, but, without either, the pursuit is utterly +hopeless. There is but one course, then, for these unfortunate aspirants +of celebrity--it is to change the venue and come abroad. They may not, +it is true, have the rank and riches which give position at home. Still, +they are better off than most foreigners: they have not the wealth of +the aristocracy, yet they can imitate their wickedness; their habits may +be costly, but their vices are cheap; and thus they can assert their +high position and their fashionable standing by displaying the +abandonment which is unhappily the distinctive feature of a certain set +in the high world of London. + +Followed, then, by a train of admirers, she paraded about the Continent, +her effrontery exalted into beauty, her cold insolence assumed to be +high breeding; her impertinence to women was merely exclusiveness, and +her condescending manner to men the simple acknowledgment of that homage +to which she was so unquestionably entitled. + +Of her suite, they were animated by different motives. Some were young +enough to be in love with any woman who, a great deal older than +themselves, would deign to notice them. The noble lord, who accompanied +her always, was a ruined baron, whose own wife had deserted him for +another; he had left his character and his fortune at Doncaster and +Epsom; and having been horsewhipped as a defaulter, and outlawed for +debt, was of course in no condition to face his acquaintances in +England. Still he was a lord--there was no denying that; Debrett and +Burke had chronicled his baptism, and the eighth baron from Hugo de +Colbrooke, who carried the helmet of his sovereign at Agincourt, was +unquestionably of the best blood of the peerage. Like your true white +feather, he wore a most _farouche_ exterior; his moustaches seemed to +bristle with pugnacity, and the expression of his eye was indescribably +martial; he walked as if he was stepping out the ground, and in his +salute he assumed the cold politeness with which a second takes off his +hat to the opposite principal in a duel; even his valet seemed to favour +the illusion, as he ostentatiously employed himself cleaning his +master’s pistols, and arranging the locks, as though there was no +knowing at what moment of the day he might not be unexpectedly called to +shoot somebody. + +This noble lord, I say, was a part of the household. Sir Marmaduke +finding his society rather agreeable, and the lady regarding him as the +cork-jacket on which she was to swim into the ocean of fashion at some +remote period or other of her existence. + +As for the Honourable Jack Smallbranes, who was he not in love with-- or +rather who was not in love with him? Poor fellow! he was born, in his +own estimation, to be the destroyer of all domestic peace; he was +created to be the ruin to all female happiness. Such a destiny might +well have filled any one with sadness and depression; most men would +have grieved over a lot which condemned them to be the origin of +suffering. Not so, Jack; he felt he couldn’t help it--that it was no +affair of his if he were the best-looking fellow in the world. The thing +was so palpable; women ought to take care of themselves; he sailed under +no false flag. No, there he was, the most irresistible, well-dressed, +and handsomest fellow to be met with; and if they didn’t escape--or, to +use his own expression, ‘cut their lucky’ in time--the fault was all +their own. If queens smiled and archduchesses looked kind upon him, let +kings and archdukes look to it. He took no unfair or underhand +advantages; he made no secret attacks, no dark advances--he carried +every fortress by assault, and in noonday. Some malicious people-- the +world abounds in such--used to say that Jack’s gallantries were +something like Falstaff’s deeds of prowess, and that his victims were +all ‘in buckram.’ But who could believe it? Did not victory sit on his +very brow; were not his looks the signs of conquest; and, better than +all, who that ever knew him had not the assurance from his own lips? +With what a happy mixture of nonchalance and self-satisfaction would he +make these confessions! How admirably blended was the sense of triumph +with the consciousness of its ease! How he would shake his ambrosial +curls, and throw himself into a pose of elegance, as though to say, +‘’Twas thus I did it; ain’t I a sad dog?’ + +Well, if these conquests were illusions, they were certainly the +pleasantest ever a man indulged in. They consoled him at heart for the +loss of fortune, country, and position; they were his recompense for all +the lost glories of Crockford’s and the ‘Clarendon.’ Never was there +such a picture of perfect tranquillity and unclouded happiness. Oh, let +moralists talk as they will about the serenity of mind derivable alone +from a pure conscience, the peaceful nature that flows from a source of +true honour, and then look abroad upon the world and count the hundreds +whose hairs are never tinged with grey, whose cheeks show no wrinkles, +whose elastic steps suffer no touch of age, and whose ready smile and +cheerful laugh are the ever-present signs of their contentment--let them +look on these, and reflect that of such are nine-tenths of those who +figure in lists of outlawry, whose bills do but make the stamps they are +written on of no value, whose creditors are legion and whose credit is +at zero, and say which seem the happier. To see them one would opine +that there must be some secret good in cheating a coachmaker, or some +hidden virtue in tricking a jeweller; that hotel-keepers are a natural +enemy to mankind, and that a tailor has not a right even to a decimal +fraction of honesty. Never was Epicurean philosophy like theirs; they +have a fine liberal sense of the blackguardisms that a man may commit, +and yet not forfeit his position in society. They know the precise +condition in life when he may practise dishonesty; and they also see +when he must be circumspect. They have one rule for the city and another +for the club; and, better than all, they have stored their minds with +sage maxims and wise reflections, which, like the philosophers of old, +they adduce on every suitable occasion; and many a wounded spirit has +been consoled by that beautiful sentiment, so frequent in their mouths, +of-- + + +‘Go ahead! for what’s the odds so long as you ‘re happy?’ + +Such, my reader, was the clique in which, strangely enough, I now found +myself; and were it not that such characters abound in every part of the +Continent, that they swarm at spas and infest whole cities, I would +scruple to introduce you to such company. It is as well, however, that +you should be put on your guard against them, and that any amusement you +may derive from the study of eccentricity should not be tarnished with +the recollection of your being imposed upon. + +There happened, on the day I speak of, to be a man of some rank at +table, with whom I had a slight, a very slight acquaintance; but in +passing from the room he caught my eye, came over and conversed with me +for a few minutes. From that moment Lady Lonsdall’s manners underwent a +great change in my regard. Not only did she venture to look at me +without expressing any air of supercilious disdain, but even vouchsafed +the ghost of a smile; and, as we rose from table, I overheard her ask +the Honourable Jack for my name. I could not hear the first part of his +reply, but the last was couched in that very classic slang, expressive +of my unknown condition-- + + +‘I take it, he hain’t got no friends!’ + +Notwithstanding this Foundling-hospital sentence, Sir Marmaduke was +instructed to invite me to take coffee--an honour which, having +declined, we separated, as do people who are to speak when next they +meet. + +Meditating on the unjust impression foreigners must conceive of England +and the English by the unhappy specimens we ‘grind for exportation,’ I +sat alone at a little table in the park. It was a sad subject, and it +led me further than I wished or knew of. I thought I could trace much of +the animosity of foreign journals to English policy in their mistaken +notions of national character, and could well conceive how dubiously +they must receive our claim to being high-spirited and honourable, when +their own experiences would incline to a different conclusion; for, +after all, the Fleet Prison, however fashionable its inmates, would +scarcely be a flattering specimen of England, nor do I think Horsemonger +Lane ought to be taken as a fair sample of the country. It is vain to +assure foreigners that these people are not known nor received at home, +neither held in credit nor estimation; their conclusive reply is, ‘How +is it, then, that they are admitted to the tables of your ambassadors, +and presented at our courts? Is it possible you would dare to introduce +to our sovereigns those whom you could not present to your own?’ This +answer is a fatal one. The fact is so; the most rigid censor of morals +leaves his conscience at the Ship Hotel at Dover; he has no room for it +on a voyage, or perhaps he thinks it might be detained by a revenue- +officer. Whatever the cause, he will know at Baden--ay, and walk with-- +the man he would cut in Bond Street, and drive with the party at +Brussels he would pass to-morrow if he met in Hyde Park. + +This ‘sliding scale’ of morality has great disadvantages; none greater +than the injury it inflicts on national character, and the occasion it +offers for our disparagement at the hands of other people. It is in vain +that liberal and enlightened measures mark our government, or that +philanthropy and humanity distinguish our institutions, we only get +credit for hypocrisy so long as we throw a mantle over our titled +swindlers and dishonourable defaulters. If Napoleon found little +difficulty in making the sobriquet of ‘La Perfide Albion’ popular in +France, we owe it much more to the degraded characters of our refugee +English than to any justice in the charge against the nation. In a word, +I have never met a foreigner commonly fair in his estimate of English +character, who had not travelled in England; and I never met one unjust +in all that regarded national good faith, honesty, and uprightness, who +had visited our shores. The immunity from arrest would seem to suggest +to our runaways an immunity from all the ties of good conduct and +character of our countrymen, who, under that strange delusion of the +‘immorality of France,’ seem to think that a change of behaviour should +be adopted in conformity with foreign usage; and as they put on less +clothing, so they might dispense with a little virtue also. + +These be unpleasant reflections, Arthur, and I fear the coffee or the +maraschino must have been amiss; in any case, away with them, and now +for a stroll in the Cursaal! + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. THE GAMBLING-ROOM + +Englishmen keep their solemnity and respectful deportment for a church; +foreigners reserve theirs for a gambling-table. Never was I more struck +than by the decorous stillness and well-bred quietness of the room in +which the highest play went forward. All the animation of French +character, all the bluntness of German, all the impetuosity of the +Italian or the violent rashness of the Russian, were calmed down and +subdued beneath the influence of the great passion; and it seemed as +though the Devil would not accept the homage of his votaries if not +rendered with the well-bred manners of true gentlemen. It was not enough +that men should be ruined--they should be ruined with easy propriety and +thorough good-breeding. Whatever their hearts might feel, their faces +should express no discomfiture; though their head should ache and their +hand should tremble, the lip must be taught to say ‘rouge’ or ‘noir’ +without any emotion. + +I do not scruple to own that all this decorum was more dreadful than any +scene of wild violence or excitement The forced calmness, the pent-up +passion, might be kept from any outbreak of words; but no training could +completely subdue the emotions which speak by the bloodshot eye, the +quivering cheek, the livid lip. + +No man’s heart is consecrated so entirely to one passion as a gambler’s. +Hope with him usurps the place of every other feeling. Hope, however +rude the shocks it meets from disappointment, however beaten and +baffled, is still there; the flame may waste down to a few embers, but a +single spark may live amid the ashes, yet it is enough to kindle up into +a blaze before the breath of fortune. At first he lives but for moments +like these; all his agonies, all his sufferings, all the torturings of a +mind verging on despair are repaid by such brief intervals of luck. Yet +each reverse of fate is telling on him heavily; the many disappointments +to his wishes are sapping by degrees his confidence in fortune. His hope +is dashed with fear; and now commences within him that struggle which is +the most fearful man’s nature can endure. The fickleness of chance, the +waywardness of fortune, fill his mind with doubts and hesitations. +Sceptical on the sources of his great passion, he becomes a doubter on +every subject; he has seen his confidence so often at fault that he +trusts nothing, and at last the ruling feature of his character is +suspicion. When this rules paramount, he is a perfect gambler; from that +moment he has done with the world and all its pleasures and pursuits; +life offers to him no path of ambition, no goal to stimulate his +energies. With a mock stoicism he affects to be superior to the race +which other men are running, and laughs at the collisions of party and +the contests of politics. Society, art, literature, love itself, have no +attractions for him then; all excitements are feeble compared with the +alternations of the gaming-table; and the chances of fortune in real +life are too tame and too tedious for the impatience of a gambler. + +I have no intention of winding up these few remarks by any moral episode +of a gambler’s life, though my memory could supply me with more than one +such--when the baneful passion became the ruin, not of a thoughtless, +giddy youth, inexperienced and untried, but of one who had already won +golden opinions from the world, and stood high in the ranks which lead +to honour and distinction. These stories have, unhappily, a sameness +which mars the force of their lesson; they are listened to like the +refrain of an old song, and from their frequency are disregarded. No; I +trust in the fact that education and the tastes that flow from it are +the best safeguards against a contagion of a heartless, soulless +passion, and would rather warn my young countrymen at this place against +the individuals than the system. + +‘Am I in your way, sir?’ said a short, somewhat overdressed man, with +red whiskers, as he made room for me to approach the play-table, with a +politeness quite remarkable--‘am I in your way, sir?’ + +‘Not in the least; I beg you ‘ll not stir.’ + +‘Pray take my seat; I request you will.’ + +‘By no means, sir; I never play. I was merely looking on.’ + +‘Nor I either--or at least very rarely,’ said he, rising with the air of +a man who felt no pleasure in what was going forward. ‘You don’t happen +to know that young gentleman in the light-blue frock and white vest +yonder?’ + +‘No, I never saw him before.’ + +‘I ‘m sorry for it,’ said he in a whisper; ‘he has just lost seventy +thousand francs, and is going the readiest way to treble the sum by his +play. I ‘m certain he is English by his look and appearance, and it is a +cruel thing, a very cruel thing, not to give him a word of caution +here.’ + +The words, spoken with a tone of feeling, interested me much in the +speaker, and already I was angry with myself for having conceived a +dislike to his appearance and a prejudice against his style of dress. + +‘I see,’ continued he, after a few seconds’ pause--‘I see you agree with +me. Let us try if we can’t find some one who may know him. If Wycherley +is here--you know Sir Harry, I suppose?’ + +‘I have not that honour.’ + +‘Capital fellow--the best in the world. He’s in the Blues, and always +about Windsor or St. James’s. He knows everybody; and if that young +fellow be anybody, he’s sure to know him. Ah, how d’ye do, my lord?’ +continued he, with an easy nod, as Lord Colebrook passed. + +‘Eh, Crotty, how goes it?’ was the reply. + +‘You don’t happen to know that gentleman yonder, my lord, do you?’ + +‘Not I; who is he?’ + +‘This gentleman and I were both anxious to learn who he is; he is losing +a deal of money.’ + +‘Eh, dropping his tin, is he? And you ‘d rather save him, Crotty? All +right and sportsmanlike,’ said his lordship, with a knowing wink, and +walked on. + +‘A very bad one, indeed, I fear,’ said Crotty, looking after him; ‘but I +didn’t think him so heartless as that. Let us take a turn, and look out +for Wycherley.’ + +Now, although I neither knew Wycherley nor his friend Crotty, I felt it +a case where one might transgress a little on etiquette, and probably +save a young man--he didn’t look twenty--from ruin; and so, without more +ado, I accompanied my new acquaintance through the crowded salons, +elbowing and pushing along amid the hundreds that thronged there. Crotty +seemed to know almost every one of a certain class; and as he went, it +was a perpetual ‘Comment ça va,’ prince, count, or baron; or, ‘How d’ye +do, my lord?’ or, ‘Eh, Sir Thomas, you here?’ etc; when at length, at +the side of a doorway leading into the supper-room, we came upon the +Honourable Jack, with two ladies leaning upon his arms. One glance was +enough; I saw they were the alderman’s daughters. Sir Peter himself, at +a little distance off, was giving directions to the waiter for supper. + +‘Eh, Crotty, what are you doing to-night?’ said Jack, with a triumphant +look at his fair companions; ‘any mischief going forward, eh?’ + +‘Nothing half so dangerous as your doings,’ said Crotty, with a very +arch smile; ‘have you seen Wycherley? Is he here?’ + +‘Can’t possibly say,’ yawned out Jack; then leaning over to me, he said +in a whisper, ‘Is the Princess Von Hohenstauvenof in the rooms?’ + +‘I really don’t know; I ‘m quite a stranger.’ + +‘By Jove, if she is,’ said he, without paying any attention to my reply, +‘I ‘m floored, that’s all. Lady Maude Beverley has caught me already. I +wish you ‘d keep the Deverington girls in talk, will you?’ + +‘You forget, perhaps, I have no acquaintance here.’ + +‘Oh yes, by Jove, so I did! Glorious fun you must have of it! What a +pace I ‘d go along if I wasn’t known, eh! wouldn’t I?’ + +‘There’s Wycherley--there he is,’ said Crotty, taking me by the arm as +he spoke, and leading me forward. ‘Do me the favour to give me your +name; I should like you to know Wycherley’--and scarcely had I +pronounced it, when I found myself exchanging greetings with a large, +well-built, black-whiskered and moustached man of about forty. He was +dressed in deep mourning, and looked in his manner and air very much the +gentleman. + +‘Have you got up the party yet, Crotty?’ said he, after our first +salutations were over, and with a half-glance towards me. + +‘No, indeed,’ said Crotty slowly; ‘the fact is, I wasn’t thinking of it. +There’s a poor young fellow yonder losing very heavily, and I wanted to +see if you knew him; it would be only fair to----’ + +‘So it would; where is he?’ interrupted the baronet, as he pushed +through the crowd towards the play-room. + +‘I told you he was a trump,’ said Crotty, as we followed him--‘the +fellow to do a good-natured thing at any moment. + +While we endeavoured to get through after him, we passed close beside a +small supper-table, where sat the alderman and his two pretty daughters, +the Honourable Jack between them. It was evident from his boisterous +gaiety that he had triumphed over all his fears of detection by any of +the numerous fair ones he spoke of--his great object at this instant +appearing to be the desire to attract every one’s attention towards him, +and to publish his triumph to all beholders. For this, Jack conversed in +a voice audible at some distance off, surveying his victims from time to +time with the look of the Great Mogul; while they, poor girls, only +imagined themselves regarded for their own attractions, which were very +considerable, and believed that the companionship of the distinguished +Jack was the envy of every woman about them. As for the father, he was +deep in the mysteries of a _vol-au-vent_, and perfectly indifferent to +such insignificant trifles as Jack’s blandishments and the ladies’ +blushes. + +Poor girls! no persuasion in life could have induced them to such an +exhibition in their own country, and in company with one their equal in +class. But the fact of its being Germany, and the escort being an +Honourable, made all the difference in the world; and they who would +have hesitated with maiden coyness at the honourable proposals of one of +their own class, felt no scruple at compromising themselves before +hundreds, to indulge the miserable vanity of a contemptible coxcomb. I +stood for a second or two beside the table, and thought within myself, +‘Is not this as much a case to call for the interference of friendly +caution as that of the gambler yonder?’ But then, how was it possible? + +We passed on and reached the play-table, where we found Sir Harry +Wycherley in low and earnest conversation with the young gentleman. I +could only catch a stray expression here and there, but even they +surprised me--the arguments advanced to deter him from gambling being +founded on the inconsiderate plan of his game, rather than on the +immorality and vice of the practice itself. + +‘Don’t you see,’ said Sir Harry, throwing his eye over the card all +dotted with pinholes--‘don’t you see it’s a run, a dead run; that you +may bet on red, if you like, a dozen times, and only win once or twice?’ +The youth blushed and said nothing. + +‘I ‘ve seen forty thousand francs lost that way in less than an hour.’ + +‘I’ve lost _seventy_ thousand!’ muttered the young man, with a shudder +like one who felt cold all over. + +‘Seventy!--not to-night, surely?’ + +‘Yes, to-night,’ replied he. ‘I won fourteen hundred naps here when I +came first, and didn’t play for three weeks afterwards; but +unfortunately I strolled in here a few nights ago, and lost the whole +back, as well as some hundreds besides; but this evening I came bent on +winning back--that was all I desired--winning back my own.’ + +As he said these words, I saw Sir Harry steal a glance at Crotty. The +thing was as quick as lightning, but never did a glance reveal more; he +caught my eye upon him, and looking round fully at me said, in a deep, +ominous voice-- + +‘That’s the confounded part of it; it’s so hard to stop when you ‘re +losing.’ + +‘Hard!--impossible!’ cried the youth, whose eyes were now riveted on the +table, following every card that fell from the banker’s hands, and +flushing and growing pale with every alternation of the game. ‘See now, +for all you’ve said, look if the red has not won four times in +succession?’ + +‘So it has,’ replied the baronet coolly; ‘but the previous run on black +would have left your purse rather shallow, or you must have a devilish +deep one, that’s all.’ + +He took up a pencil as he spoke, and began to calculate on the back of +the card; then holding it over, he said, ‘There’s what you ‘d have lost +if you went on betting.’ + +‘What!--two hundred and eighty thousand francs?’ + +‘Exactly! Look here’; and he went over the figures carefully before him. + +‘Don’t you think you’ve had enough of it to-night?’ said Crotty, with an +insinuating smile; ‘what say you if we all go and sup together in the +Saal?’ + +‘Agreed,’ said Sir Harry, rising at once. ‘Crotty, will you look at the +carte and do the needful? You may trust him, gentlemen,’ continued he, +turning towards us with a smile; ‘old Crotty has a most unexceptionable +taste in all that regards _cuisine_ and _cave_; save a slight leaning +towards expense, he has not a fault!’ + +I mumbled out something of an apology, which was unfortunately supposed +by the baronet to have reference to his last remark. I endeavoured to +explain away the mistake, and ended like a regular awkward man by +complying with a request I had previously resolved to decline. The young +man had already given his consent, and so we arose and walked through +the rooms, while Crotty inspected the bill of fare and gave orders about +the wine. + +Wycherley seemed to know and be known by every one, and as he +interchanged greetings with the groups that passed, declined several +pressing invitations to sup. ‘The fact is,’ said he to one of his most +anxious inviters, ‘the fact is’--and the words were uttered in a whisper +I could just hear--‘there’s a poor young fellow here who has been +getting it rather sharp at the gold table, and I mustn’t lose sight of +him to-night, or he’ll inevitably go back there.’ + +These few words dispelled any uneasiness I had already laboured under +from finding myself so unexpectedly linked with two strangers. It was +quite clear that Sir Harry was a fine-hearted fellow, and that his +manly, frank countenance was no counterfeit. As we went along, Wycherley +amused us with his anecdotes of the company, with whose private history +he was conversant in its most minute details; and truly, low as had been +my estimate of the society at first, it fell considerably lower as I +listened to the private memoirs with which he favoured us. + +Some were the common narratives of debt and desertion, protested bills, +and so forth; others were the bit-by-bit details of extravagant habits +pushed beyond all limits, and ending in expatriation for ever. There +were faithless husbands, outraging all decency by proclaiming their bad +conduct; there were as faithless wives, parading about in all the +effrontery of wickedness. At one side sat the roué companion of George +the Fourth, in his princely days, now a mere bloated debauchee, with +rouged cheeks and dyed whiskers, living on the hackneyed anecdotes of +his youthful rascality, and earning his daily bread by an affected +epicurism and a Sybarite pretension, which flattered the vulgar vanity +of those who fed him; while the lion of the evening was a newly arrived +earl, whose hunters were that very day sold at Tattersall’s, and whose +beautiful countess, horror-stricken at the ruin so unexpectedly come +upon them, was lying dangerously ill at her father’s house in London. +The young peer, indeed, bore up with a fortitude that attracted the +highest encomiums, and from an audience the greater portion of which +knew in their own persons most of the ills he suffered. He exchanged an +easy nod or a familiar shake of the hand with several acquaintances, not +seen before for many a day, and seemed to think that the severest blow +fortune had dealt him was the miserable price his stud would fetch at +such a time of the year. + +‘The old story,’ said Wycherley, as he shook him by the hand, and told +him his address--‘the old story; he thought twenty thousand a year would +do anything, but it won’t though. If men will keep a house in town, and +another in Gloucestershire, with a pack of fox-hounds, and have four +horses in training at Doncaster--not to speak of a yacht at Cowes and +some other fooleries--they must come to the Jews; and when they come to +the Jews, the pace is faster than for the Derby itself. Two hundred per +cent, is sharp practice, and I can tell you not uncommon either; and +then when a man does begin to topple, his efforts to recover always ruin +him. It’s like a fall from your horse--make a struggle, and you ‘re sure +to break your leg or your collar-bone; take it kindly, and the chances +are that you get up all right again, after the first shock.’ + +I did not like either the tone or the morality of my companion; but I +well knew both were the conventional coinage of his set, and I suffered +him to continue without interruption. + +‘There’s Mosely Cranmer,’ said he, pointing to a slight, effeminate- +looking young man, with a most girlish softness about his features. He +was dressed in the very extreme of fashion, and displayed all that array +of jewelry in pins, diamond vest-buttons, and rings, so frequently +assumed by modern dandyism. His voice was a thin reedy treble, scarcely +deep enough for a child. + +‘Who is he, and what is he doing here?’ asked I. + +‘He is the heir to about eighty thousand per annum, to begin with,’ said +Wycherley, ‘which he has already dipped beyond redemption. So far for +his property. As to what he is doing here, you may have seen in the +_Times_ last week that he shot an officer of the Guards in a duel-- +killed him on the spot. The thing was certain--Cranmer’s the best +pistol-shot in England.’ + +‘Ah, Wycherley, how goes it, old fellow?’ said the youth, stretching out +two fingers of his well-gloved hand. ‘You see Edderdale is come over. +Egad! we shall have all England here soon--leave the island to the Jews, +I think!’ + +Sir Harry laughed heartily at the conceit, and invited him to join our +party at supper; but he was already, I was rejoiced to find, engaged to +the Earl of Edderdale, who was entertaining a select few at his hotel, +in honour of his arrival. + +A waiter now came to inform us that Mr. Crotty was waiting for us, to +order supper, and we immediately proceeded to join him in the Saal. + +The baronet’s eulogium on his friend’s taste in _gourmandise_ was well +and justly merited. The supper was admirable--the ‘potage printanière’ +seasoned to perfection, the ‘salmi des perdreaux, aux points +d’asperges,’ delicious, and the ‘ortolans à la provençale’ a dish for +the gods; while the wines were of that _cru_ and flavour that only +favoured individuals ever attained to at the hands of a landlord. As +_plat_ succeeded _plat_, each admirably selected in the order of +succession to heighten the enjoyment and gratify the palate of the +guest, the conversation took its natural turn to matters gastronomic, +and where, I must confess, I can dally with as sincere pleasure as in +the discussion of any other branch of the fine arts. Mr. Crotty’s forte +seemed essentially to lie in the tact of ordering and arranging a very +admirable repast. Wycherley, however, took a higher walk; he was +historically _gastronome_, and had a store of anecdotes about the dishes +and their inventors, from Clovis to Louis Quatorze. He knew the +favourite meats of many illustrious personages, and told his stories +about them with an admirable blending of seriousness and levity. + +There are excellent people, Arthur, who will call you sensualist for all +this--good souls, who eat like Cossacks and drink like camels in the +desert; before whose masticatory powers joints become beautifully less +in shortest space of time, and who while devouring in greedy silence +think nothing too severe to say of him who, with more cultivated palate +and discriminating taste, eats sparingly but choicely, making the +nourishment of his body the nutriment of his mind, and while he supports +nature, can stimulate his imagination and invigorate his understanding. +The worthy votaries of boiled mutton and turnips, of ribs and roasts, +believe themselves temperate and moderate eaters, while consuming at a +meal the provender sufficient for a family; and when, after an hour’s +steady performance, they sit with hurried breathing and half-closed +eyelids, sullen, stupid, and stertorous, drowsy and dull, saturated with +stout and stuffed with Stilton, they growl out a thanksgiving that they +are not like other men--epicures and wine-bibbers. Out upon them, I say! +Let me have my light meal, be its limits a cress, and the beverage that +ripples from the rock beside me; but be it such, that, while eating, +there is no transfusion of the beast devoured into the man, nor, when +eaten, the semi-apoplectic stupor of a gorged boa! + +Sir Harry did the honours of the table, and sustained the burden of the +conversation, to which Crotty contributed but little, the young man and +myself being merely noneffectives; nor did we separate until the +_garçon_ came to warn us that the Saal was about to close for the night. + + + +CHAPTER XXV. A WATERING-PLACE DOCTOR + +Nothing is more distinct than the two classes of people who are to be +met with in the morning and in the afternoon, sauntering along the +_allées_ of a German watering-place. The former are the invalid portion, +poured forth in numbers from hotel and lodging-house; attired in every +absurdity of dressing-room toilette, with woollen nightcaps and flannel +jackets, old-fashioned _douillettes_ and morocco slippers, they glide +along, glass in hand, to some sulphur spring, or to repose for an hour +or two in the delights of a mud bath. For the most part, they are the +old and the feeble, pale of face and tottering in step. The pursuit of +health with them would seem a vain and fruitless effort; the machine +appears to have run its destined time, and all the skill of man is +unavailing to repair it. Still, hope survives when strength and youth +have failed, and the very grouping together in their gathering-places +has its consolation; while the endless diversity of malady gives an +interest in the eye of a sick man. + +This may seem strange, but it is nevertheless perfectly true. There is +something which predisposes an invalid to all narratives of illness; +they are the topics he dwells on with most pleasure, and discourses +about with most eagerness. The anxiety for the ‘gentleman next door’ is +neither philanthropy, nor is it common curiosity. No, it is perfectly +distinct from either; it is the deep interest in the course of symptoms, +in the ups and downs of chance; it is compounded of the feelings which +animate the physician and those which fill the invalid. And hence we see +that the severest sufferings of their neighbours make less impression on +the minds of such people than on those in full health. It is not from +apathy nor selfishness they are seemingly indifferent, but simply +because they regard the question in a different light: to take an +illustration from the gaming-table, they have too deep an interest in +the game itself to feel greatly for the players. The visit of the doctor +is to them the brightest moment of the day; not only the messenger of +good tidings to the patient, he has a thousand little bits of sick-room +gossip, harmless, pointless trifles, but all fraught with their own +charm to the greedy ear of the sick man. It is so pleasant to know how +Mrs. W. bore her drive, or Sir Arthur liked his jelly; what Mrs. T. said +when they ordered her to be bled, and whether dear Mr. H. would consent +to the blister. And with what consummate tact your watering-place doctor +doles out the infinitesimal doses of his morning’s intelligence! How +different his visit from the hurried flight of a West-End practitioner, +who, while he holds his watch in hand, counts the minutes of his stay +while he feels your pulse, and whose descent downstairs is watched by a +cordon of the household, catching his directions as he goes, and +learning his opinion as he springs into his chariot! Your Spa doctor has +a very different mission; his are no heroic remedies, which taken to-day +are to cure tomorrow; his character is tried by no subtle test of +immediate success; his patients come for a term, or, to use the proper +phrase, for ‘a course of the waters’--then they are condemned to +chalybeates for a quarter of the year, so many glasses per diem. With +their health, properly speaking, he has no concern; his function is +merely an inspection that the individual drinks his fluid regularly, and +takes his mud like a man. The patient is invoiced to him, with a bill of +lading from Bell or Brodie; he has full information of the merchandise +transmitted, and the mode in which the consignee desires it may be +treated--out of this ritual he must not move. The great physician of the +West End says, ‘Bathe and drink’; and his _chargé d’affaires_ at +Wiesbaden takes care to see his orders obeyed. As well might a _forçat_ +at Brest or Toulon hope to escape the punishment described in the +catalogue of prisoners, as for a patient to run counter to the remedies +thus arranged, and communicated by post. Occasionally changes will take +place in a sick man’s condition _en route_ which alter the applicability +of his treatment; but, then, what would you have? Brodie and Chambers +are not prophets; divination and augury are not taught in the London and +Middlesex hospitals! + +I remember, myself, a marquis of gigantic proportions, who had kept his +prescription by him from the time of his being a stripling till he +weighed twenty stone. The fault here lay not with the doctor. The bath +he was to take contained some powerful ingredient--a preparation of +iron, I believe; well, he got into it, and immediately began swelling +and swelling out, till, big as he was before, he was now twice the size, +and at last, like an overheated boiler, threatened to explode with a +crash. What was to be done? To lift him was out of the question--he +fitted the bath like a periwinkle in its shell; and in this dilemma no +other course was open than to decant him, water and all--which was +performed, to the very considerable mirth of the bystanders. + +The Spa doctor, then, it will be seen, moves in a very narrow orbit. He +must manage to sustain his reputation without the aid of the +pharmacopoeia, and continue to be imposing without any assistance from +the dead languages. + +Hard conditions! but he yields to them, like a man of nerve. + +He begins, then, by extolling the virtues of the waters, which by +analysis of ‘his own making,’ and set forth in a little volume published +by himself, contain very different properties from those ascribed to +them by others. He explains most clearly to his non-chemical listener +how ‘pure silica found in combination with oxide of iron, at a +temperature of thirty-nine and a half, Fahrenheit,’ must necessarily +produce the most beneficial effects on the knee-joint; and he describes, +with all the ardour of science, the infinite satisfaction the nerves +must experience when invigorated by ‘free carbonic gas’ sporting about +in the system. Day by day he indoctrinates the patient into some stray +medical notion, giving him an interest in his own anatomy, and putting +him on terms of familiar acquaintance with the formation of his heart or +his stomach. This flatters the sick man, and, better still, it occupies +his attention. He himself thus becomes a _particeps_ in the first degree +to his own recovery; and the simplicity of treatment, which had at first +no attractions for his mind, is now complicated with so many little +curious facts about the blood and the nerves, mucous membranes and +muscles, as fully to compensate for any lack of mystery, and is in truth +just as unintelligible as the most involved inconsistency of any written +prescription. Besides this, he has another object which demands his +attention. Plain, common-sense people, who know nothing of physic or its +mysteries, might fall into the fatal error of supposing that the wells +so universally employed by the people of the country for all purposes of +washing, bathing, and cooking, however impregnated by mineral +properties, were still by no means so capable, in proportions of great +power and efficacy, of effecting either very decided results, curative +or noxious. The doctor must set his heel on this heresy at once; he must +be able to show how a sip too much or a half-glass too many can produce +the gravest consequences; and no summer must pass over without at least +one death being attributed to the inconsiderate rashness of some +insensate drinker. Woe unto him then who drinks without a doctor! You +might as well, in an access of intense thirst, rush into the first +apothecary’s shop, and take a strong pull at one of the vicious little +vials that fill the shelves, ignorant whether it might not be aqua +fortis or Prussic acid. + +Armed, then, with all the terrors of his favourite Spa, rich in a +following which is as much partisan as patient, the Spa doctor has an +admirable life of it. The severe and trying cases of illness that come +under the notice of other physicians fall not to his share; the very +journey to the waters is a trial of strength which guards against this. +His disciples are the dyspeptic “diners-out” in the great worlds of +London, Paris, or Vienna; the nervous and irritable natures, cloyed with +excess of enjoyment and palled with pleasure; the imaginary sick man, or +the self-created patient who has dosed himself into artificial malady-- +all of necessity belonging to the higher or at least the wealthier +classes of mankind, with whom management goes further than medicine, and +tact is a hundred times better than all the skill of Hippocrates. He had +need, then, to be a clever man of the world; he may dispense with +science, he cannot with _savoir faire_. Not only must he be conversant +with the broader traits of national character, but he must be intimately +acquainted with the more delicate and subtle workings of the heart in +classes and gradations of mankind, a keen observer and a quick actor. In +fact, to get on well, he must possess in a high degree many of those +elements, any one of which would insure success in a dozen other walks +in life. + +And the Spa doctor must have all these virtues, as Swift says, ‘for +twenty pounds per annum’--not literally, indeed, but for a very +inadequate recompense. These watering-place seasons are brief intervals, +in which he must make hay while the sun shines. With the approach of +winter the tide turns, and the human wave retires faster than it came. +Silent streets and deserted promenades, closed shutters and hermetically +sealed cafés, meet him at every step; and then comes the long, dreary +time of hibernation. Happy would it be for him if he could but imitate +the seal, and spend it in torpor; for if he be not a sportsman, and in a +country favourable to the pursuit, his life is a sad one. Books are +generally difficult to come at; there is little society, there is no +companionship; and so he has to creep along the tedious time silent and +sad, counting over the months of his durance, and longing for spring. +Some there are who follow the stream, and retire each winter to the +cities where their strongest connection lies; but this practice I should +deem rather dictated by pleasure than profit. Your Spa doctor without a +Spa is like Liszt or Herz without a pianoforte. Give him but his +instrument, and he will ‘discourse you sweet music’; but deprive him of +it, and he is utterly helpless. The springs of Helicon did not suggest +inspiration more certainly than do those of Nassau to their votaries; +but the fount must run that the poet may rhyme. So your physician must +have the odour of sulphurets in his nose; he must see the priestess +ministering, glass in hand, to the shivering shades around her; he must +have the long vista of the promenade, with its flitting forms in flannel +cased, ere he feel himself ‘every inch a doctor.’ Away from these, and +the piston of a steam-engine without a boiler is not more helpless. The +fountain is, to use Lord Londonderry’s phrase, the ‘fundamental feature +on which his argument hinges,’ and he could no more exist without water +than a fish. + +Having said so much of the genus, let me be excused if I do not dilate +on the species; nor, indeed, had I dwelt so long on the subject, but in +this age of stomach, when every one has dyspepsia, it is as well to +mention those who rule over our diets and destinies; and where so many +are worshippers at the Temple, a word about the Priest of the Mysteries +may not be unseasonable. + +And now, to change the theme, who is it that at this early hour of the +morning seems taking his promenade, with no trace of the invalid in his +look or dress? He comes along at a smart walk; his step has the assured +tramp of one who felt health, and knew the value of the blessing. What! +is it possible--can it be, indeed? ‘Yes, it is Sir Harry Wycherley +himself, with two lovely children, a boy and a girl--the eldest scarcely +seven years old; the boy a year or so younger. Never did I behold +anything more lovely. The girl’s eyes were dark, shaded with long deep +fringe, that added to their depth, and tempered into softness the +glowing sparkle of youth. Her features were of a pensive but not +melancholy character, and in her walk and carriage ‘gentle blood’ spoke +out in accents not to be mistaken. The boy, more strongly formed, +resembled his father more, and in his broad forehead and bold, dashing +expression looked like one who would become one day a man of nerve and +mettle. His dress, too, gave a character to his appearance that well +suited him--a broad hat, turned up at the side, and ornamented with a +dark-blue feather, that hung drooping over his shoulder; a blue tunic, +made so as to show his chest in its full breadth, and his arms naked the +whole way; a scarlet scarf, knotted carelessly at his side, hanging down +with its deep fringe beside his bare leg, tanned and bronzed with sun +and weather; and even his shoes, with their broad silver buckles, +showing that care presided over every part of his costume. + +There was something intensely touching in the sight of this man of the +world--for such I well knew he was--thus enjoying the innocence and +fresh buoyancy of his children, turning from the complex web of men’s +schemes and plottings, their tortuous paths and deep designings, to +relax in the careless gaiety of infant minds. Now pursuing them along +the walk, now starting from behind some tree where he lay in ambush, he +gives them chase, and as he gains on them they turn sharp round, and +spring into his arms, and clasp him round the neck. + +Arthur, thou hast had a life of more than man’s share of pleasure; thou +hast tasted much happiness, and known but few sorrows; but would not a +moment like this outnumber them all? Where is love so full, so generous, +so confiding? What affection comes so pure and unalloyed, not chilled by +jealous doubts or fears, but warm and gushing--the incense of a happy +heart, the outpourings of a guileless nature. Nothing can be more +beautiful than the picture of maternal fondness, the gracefulness of +woman thrown like a garment around her children. Her look of love +etherealised by the holiest sentiment of tenderness; her loveliness +exalted above the earth by the contemplation of those, her own dear +ones, who are but a ‘little lower than the angels’--is a sight to make +the eyes gush tears of happiness, and the heart swell with thankfulness +to Heaven. Second alone to this is the unbending of man’s stern nature +before the charms of childhood, when, casting away the pride of manhood +and the cold spirit of worldly ambition, he becomes like one among his +children, the participator in their joys and sorrows, the companion of +their games, the confidant of their little secrets. How insensibly does +each moment thus passed draw him further from the world and its cares; +how soon does he forget disappointments, or learn to think of them less +poignantly; and how by Nature’s own magnetism does the sinless spirit of +the child mix with the subtle workings of the man, and lift him above +the petty jarrings and discords of life! And thus, while he teaches +_them_ precepts of truth and virtue, _they_ pour into his heart lessons +of humility and forbearance. If he point out the future to them, with +equal force they show the past to him, and a blessing rests on both. The +_populus me sibilat_ of the miser is a miserable philosophy compared to +his who can retire from the rancorous assaults of enemies and the dark +treachery of false friends, to the bosom of a happy home, and feel his +hearth a sanctuary where come no forms of malice to assail him! + +Such were my musings as I saw the father pass on with his children; and +never before did my loneliness seem so devoid of happiness. + +Would that I could stop here; would that I might leave my reader to +ponder over these things, and fashion them to his mind’s liking; but I +may not. I have but one object in these notes of my loiterings. It is to +present to those younger in the world, and fresher to its wiles than +myself, some of the dangers as well as some of the enjoyments of foreign +travel; and having surveyed the cost with much care and caution, I would +fix a wreck-buoy here and there along the channel as a warning and a +guide. And now to begin. + +Let me take the character before me--one of whom I hesitate not to say +that only the name is derived from invention. Some may have already +identified him; many more may surmise the individual meant. It is enough +that I say he still lives, and the correctness of the portrait may +easily be tested by any traveller Rhinewards; but I prefer giving him a +chapter to himself. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. SIR HARRY WYCHERLEY + +Sir Harry Wycherley was of an old Hampshire family, who, entering the +army when a mere boy, contrived, before he came of age, so completely to +encumber a very large estate that his majority only enabled him to +finish the ruin he had so actively begun, and to leave him penniless at +seven-and-twenty. Before the wreck of his property became matter of +notoriety, he married an earl’s daughter with a vast fortune, a portion +of which was settled on any children that might be born to their union. +She, poor girl, scarcely nineteen when she married (for it was a love +match), died of a broken heart at three-and-twenty--leaving Sir Harry, +with two infant children, all but irretrievably ruined, nearly +everything he possessed mortgaged beyond its value, and not even a house +to shelter him. By the advice of his lawyer, he left England secretly +and came over to Paris, whence he travelled through Germany down to +Italy, where he resided some time. The interest of the fortune settled +on the children sufficed to maintain him in good style, and enabled him +to associate with men of his own rank, provided he incurred no habits of +extravagance. A few years of such prudence would, he was told, enable +him to return with a moderate income; and he submitted. + +This career of quiet, unobtrusive character was gradually becoming more +and more insupportable to him. At first the change from a life beset by +duns and bailiffs, by daily interviews with Jews and consultations with +scheming lawyers, was happiness itself; the freedom he enjoyed from +pressing difficulties and contingencies which arose with every hour was +a pleasure he never knew before, and he felt like a schoolboy escaped +from the drudgery of the desk. But by degrees, as he mixed more with +those who were his former associates and companions--many of them exiles +on the same plea as himself--the old taste for past pleasures revived. +Their conversation brought back London with all its brilliant gaiety +before him. Its clubs and coteries, the luxurious display of the dinners +at the ‘Clarendon’ or the reckless extravagance of the nights at +Crockford’s, the triumphs of the Derby, and the glories of Ascot, passed +all in review before him, heightened by the recollection of the high +spirits of his youth. He began once more to hanker after the world he +believed he had quitted without regret; and a morbid anxiety to learn +what was doing and going forward in the circles he used to move in took +possession of his mind. All the gossip of Tattersall’s, all the chitchat +of the Carlton, all the scandal of Graham’s, became at once +indispensable to his existence, Who was going it ‘fastest’ among the +rising spirits of the day, and which was the favourite of ‘Scott’s lot,’ +were points of vital interest to him; while he felt the deepest anxiety +about the fortunes of those who were tottering on the brink of ruin, and +spent many a sleepless night in conjectures as to how they were to get +through this difficulty or that, and whether they could ever ‘come +round’ again. + +Not one of the actors in that busy scene, into whose wild chaos fate +mixes up all that is highest and everything the most depraved of human +nature, ever took the same interest in it as he did. He lived henceforth +in an ideal world, ignorant and careless of what was passing around him; +his faculties strained to regard events at a distance, he became +abstracted and silent. A year passed over thus, twelve weary months, in +which his mind dwelt on home and country with all the ardour of a +banished man. At last the glad tidings reached him that a compromise had +been effected with his principal creditors; his most pressing debts had +been discharged, and time obtained to meet others of less moment; and no +obstacle any longer existed to his returning to England. + +What a glorious thing it was to come back again once more to the old +haunts and scenes of pleasure; to revisit the places of which his days +and nights were filled with the very memory; to be once again the +distinguished among that crowd who ruled supreme at the table and on the +turf, and whose fiat was decisive from the Italian Opera to Doncaster! +Alas and alas! the resumption of old tastes and habits will not bring +back the youth and buoyancy which gave them all their bright colouring. +There is no standing still in life; there is no resting-place whence we +can survey the panorama, and not move along with it. Our course +continues, and as changes follow one another in succession without, so +within our own natures are we conforming to the rule, and becoming +different from what we had been. The dream of home, the ever-present +thought to the exile’s mind, suffers the rude shock when comes the hour +of testing its reality; happy for him if he die in the delusion! Early +remembrances are hallowed by a light that age and experience dissipate +for ever, and as the highland tarn we used to think grand in its wild +desolation in the hours of our boyhood becomes to our manhoods eye but a +mere pond among the mountains, so do we look with changed feelings on +all about us, and feel disappointment where we expected pleasure. + +In all great cities these changes succeed with fearful rapidity. +Expensive tastes and extravagant habits are hourly ruining hundreds who +pass off the scene where they shone, and are heard of no more. The +‘lion’ of the season--whose plate was a matter of royal curiosity, whose +equipage gave the tone to the time, whose dinner invitations were +regarded as the climax of fashionable distinction--awakes some morning +to discover that an expenditure of four times a man’s income, continued +for several years, may originate embarrassment in his affairs. He finds +out that tailors can be uncivil, and coachmakers rude and--horror of +horrors!--he sees within the precincts of his dressing-room the plebeian +visage of a sherrifs officer, or the calculating countenance of a West- +End auctioneer. + +He who was booked for Ascot now hurries away to Antwerp. An ambiguous +paragraph in an evening paper informs London that one among the ranks of +extravagance has fallen; a notice of ‘public competition’ by the hand of +George Robins comes next; a criticism, and generally a sharp one, on the +taste of his furniture and the value of his pictures follows; the broad +pages of the _Morning Post_ become the winding-sheet of his memory, and +the knock of the auctioneer’s hammer is his requiem! The ink is not +dried on his passport ere he is forgotten. Fashionable circles have +other occupations than regrets and condolences; so that the exile may be +a proud man if he retain a single correspondent in that great world +which yesterday found nothing better than to chronicle his doings. + +When Sir Harry Wycherley then came back to London he was only remembered +--nothing more. The great majority of his contemporaries had, like +himself, passed off the boards during the interval; such of them as +remained were either like vessels too crippled in action to seek safety +in flight, or, adopting the philosophy of the devil when sick, had +resolved on prudence when there was no more liking for dissipation. He +was almost a stranger in his club; the very waiters at Mivart’s asked +his name; while the last new peer’s son, just emerging into life, had +never even heard of him before. So is it decreed--dynasties shall fall +and others succeed them; Charles le Dix gives place to Louis-Philippe, +and Nugee occupies the throne of Stultz. + +Few things men bear worse than this oblivion in the very places where +once their sway was absolute. It is very hard to believe that the world +has grown wiser and better, more cultivated in taste and more correct in +its judgments than when we knew it of old; and a man is very likely to +tax with ingratitude those who, superseding him in the world’s favour, +seem to be forgetful of claims which in reality they never knew of. + +Sir Harry Wycherley was not long in England ere he felt these truths in +all their bitterness, and saw that an absence of a few years teaches +one’s friends to do without them so completely that they are absolutely +unwilling to open a new want of acquaintance, as though it were an +expensive luxury they had learned to dispense with. Besides, Wycherley +was decidedly _rococo_ in all his tastes and predilections. Men did not +dine now where they used in _his_ day--Doncaster was going out, Goodwood +was coming in; people spoke of Grisi, not Pasta, Mario more than Rubini. +Instead of the old absolute monarchy of fashion, where one dictated to +all the rest, a new school sprung up, a species of democracy, who +thought Long Wellesley and D’Orsay were unclean idols, and would not +worship anything but themselves. + +Now of all the marks of progress which distinguish men in the higher +circles, there is none in these latter days at all comparable with the +signs of--to give it a mild name--increased ‘sharpness,’ distinguishable +amongst them. The traveller by the heavy Falmouth mail whisked along +forty miles per hour in the Grand Junction, would see far less to +astonish and amaze him than your shrewd man about town of some forty +years back, could he be let down any evening among the youth at +Tattersall’s, or introduced among the rising generation just graduating +at Graham’s. + +The spirit of the age is unquestionably to be ‘up and doing.’ A good +book on the Oaks has a far higher preeminence, not to say profit, than +one published in ‘the Row’; the ‘honours’ of the crown are scarcely on a +par with those scored at whist; and to predict the first horse at Ascot +would be a far higher step in the intellectual scale than to prophesy +the appearance of a comet or an eclipse; the leader in the House can +only divide public applause with the winner of the Léger, and even the +versatile gyrations of Lord Brougham himself must yield to the more +fascinating pirouettes of Fanny Ellsler. Young men leave Eton and +Sandhurst now with more tact and worldly wit than their fathers had at +forty, or than their grandfathers ever possessed. + +Short as Sir Harry Wycherley’s absence had been, the march of mind had +done much in all these respects. The babes and sucklings of fashion were +more than his equals in craft and subtlety; none like _them_ to +ascertain what was wrong with the favourite, or why ‘the mare’ would not +start; few could compete with them in those difficult walks of finance +which consist in obtaining credit from coach-makers, and cash from Jews. +In fact, to that generation who spent profusely to live luxuriously had +succeeded a race who reversed the position, and lived extravagantly in +order to have the means of spending. Wiser than their fathers, they +substituted paper for cash payments, and saw no necessity to cry ‘stop’ +while there was a stamp in England. + +It was a sad thing for one who believed his education finished to become +a schoolboy once more, but there was nothing else for it. Sir Harry had +to begin at the bottom of the class; he was an apt scholar it is true, +but before he had completed his studies he was ruined. High play and +high interest, Jews and jockeys, dinners and danseuses, with large +retinues of servants, will help a man considerably to get rid of his +spare cash; and however he may--which in most cases he must--acquire +some wisdom _en route_, his road is not less certain to lead to ruin. In +two years from the time of his return, another paragraph and another +auction proclaimed that ‘Wycherley was cleaned out,’ and that he had +made his ‘positively last appearance’ in England. + +The Continent was now to be his home for life. He had lost his ‘means,’ +but he had learned ‘ways’ of living, and from pigeon he became rook. + +There is a class, possibly the most dangerous that exists, of men, who +without having gone so far as to forfeit pretension to the society and +acquaintance of gentleman, have yet involved their name and reputation +in circumstances which are more than suspicious. Living expensively, +without any obvious source of income; enjoying every luxury, and +indulging every taste that costs dearly, without any difficulty in the +payment, their intimacy with known gamblers and blacklegs exposes them +at once to the inevitable charge of confederacy. Rarely or never playing +themselves, however, they reply to such calumnies by referring to their +habits; their daily life would indeed seem little liable to reproval. If +married, they are the most exemplary of husbands. If they have children, +they are models for fathers. Where can you see such little ones, so +well-mannered, so well-dressed, with such beautifully curled hair, and +such perfectly good-breeding--or, to use the proper phrase, ‘so +admirably taken care of’? They are liberal to all public charities; they +are occasionally intimate with the chaplain of the Embassy too--of whom, +a word hereafter; and, in fact, it would be difficult to find fault with +any circumstance in their bearing before the world. Their connection by +family with persons of rank and condition is a kind of life-buoy of +which no shipwreck of fortune deprives them, and long after less well- +known people have sunk to the bottom, they are to be found floating on +the surface of society. In this way they form a kind of ‘Pont du Diable’ +between persons of character and persons of none--they are the narrow +isthmus, connecting the mainland with the low reef of rocks beyond it. + +These men are the tame elephants of the swindling world, who provide the +game, though they never seem to care for the sport. Too cautious of +reputation to become active agents in these transactions, they introduce +the unsuspecting traveller into those haunts and among those where ruin +is rife; and as the sheriff consigns the criminal to the attentions of +the hangman, so these worthies halt at the ‘drop,’ and would scorn with +indignation the idea of exercising the last office of the law. + +Far from this, they are eloquent in their denunciations of play. Such +sound morality as theirs cannot be purchased at any price; the dangers +that beset young men coming abroad--the risk of chance acquaintance, the +folly of associating with persons not known--form the staple of their +talk--which, lest it should seem too cynical in its attack on pleasure, +is relieved by that admirable statement so popular in certain circles. +‘You know a man of the world must see everything for himself, so that +though I say don’t gamble, I never said don’t frequent the Cursaal; +though I bade you avoid play, I did not say shun blacklegs.’ It is +pretty much like desiring a man not to take the yellow fever, but to be +sure to pass an autumn on the coast of Africa! + +Such, then, was the character of him who would once have rejected with +horror the acquaintance of one like himself. A sleeping partner in +swindling, he received his share of the profits, although his name did +not appear in the firm. His former acquaintances continued to know him, +his family connections were large and influential, and though some may +have divined his practices, he was one of those men that are never +‘cut.’ Some pitied him; some affected to disbelieve all the stories +against him; some told tales of his generosity and kindness, but +scarcely any one condemned him--‘Ainsi va le monde?’ + +Once more I ask forgiveness, if I have been too prolix in all this; +rather would I have you linger in pleasanter scenes, and with better +company, but--there must always be a ‘but’--he is only a sorry pilot who +would content himself with describing the scenery of the coast, +expatiating on the beauty of the valleys and the boldness of the +headlands, while he let the vessel take her course among reefs and +rocks, and risk a shipwreck while he amused the passengers. Adieu, then, +to Spas and their visitors! The sick are seldom the pleasantest company; +the healthy at such places are rarely the safest. + +‘You are going, Mr. O’Leary?’ said a voice from a window opposite the +hotel, as my luggage was lifted into a _fiacre_, I looked up. It was the +youth who had lost so deeply at the Cursaal. + +‘Only to Ooblentz, for a few days,’ said I; ‘I am weary of gaiety and +fine people. I wish for quiet just now.’ + +‘I would that I had gone some weeks ago,’ exclaimed he, with a sigh. +‘May I walk with you as far as the river?’ + +I assented with pleasure, and in a moment after he was by my side. + +‘I trust,’ said I, when we had walked together some time--‘I trust you +have not been to the Cursaal again?’ + +‘Never since I met you; that night was the last I ever passed there!’ He +paused for some minutes, and then added, ‘You are not acquainted with +either of the gentlemen in whose company we supped--I think you told me +so on the way home?’ + +‘No, they were both strangers to me; it was a chance rencontre, and in +the few weeks I passed at Wiesbaden I learned enough not to pursue the +acquaintance further. Indeed, to do them justice, they seemed as well +disposed as myself to drop the intimacy; I seldom play, never among +strangers.’ + +‘Ah,’ said he, in an accent of some bitterness, ‘that resolve would +avail you little with _them; they_ can win without playing for it.’ + +‘How so; what do you mean?’ + +‘Have you a mind for a short story? It is my own adventure, and I can +vouch for the truth.’ I assented, and he went on:-- + +‘About a week ago, Mr. Crotty, with two others, one of whom was called +Captain Jacob, came to invite me to a little excursion to Kreuznach. +They were to go one day and return the following one. Sir Harry was to +join the party also, and they spoke of Lord Edderdale and some others. +But Wycherley only came down to the steamboat, when a messenger arrived +with a pressing letter, recalling him to Wiesbaden, and the rest never +appeared. Away we went, however, in good spirits; the day was fine, and +the sail down the Rhine, as you know, delightful. We arrived at +Kreuznach to dinner, spent the evening in wandering about the pretty +scenery, and came back by moonlight to a late supper. As usual with +them, cards were produced after supper, but I had never touched a card, +nor made a bet, since my unlucky night at the Cursaal; so I merely sat +by the table and looked on at the game--of course taking that interest +in it a man fond of play cannot divest himself of--but neither +counselling any party, nor offering a bet to either side. The game +gradually became interesting, deeply so, as well from the skill of the +players as the high stakes they played for. Large sums of money changed +owners, and heavy scores were betted besides. Meanwhile, champagne was +called for, and, as the night wore on, a bowl of smoking bishop, spiced +and seasoned to perfection. My office was to fill the glasses of the +party, and drink toasts with each of them in succession, as luck +inclined to this side or that. + +‘The excitement of play needs not wine to make it near to madness; but +with it no mania is more complete. Although but a looker-on, my +attention was bent on the game; and what with the odorous bowl of +bishop, and the long-sustained interest, the fatigue of a day more than +usually laborious, and a constitution never strong, I became so heavy +that I threw myself upon a sofa, and fell fast asleep. + +‘How I reached my bed and became undressed, I never knew since; but by +noon the next day I was awakened from a deep slumber, and saw Jacob +beside me. + +‘“Well, old fellow, you take it coolly,” said he, laughing; “you don’t +know it’s past twelve o’clock.” + +‘“Indeed!” said I, starting up, and scarce remembering where I was. “The +fact is, my wits are none of the clearest this morning--that bowl of +bishop finished me.” + +‘“Did it, by Jove?” replied he, with a half saucy laugh; “I’ll wager a +pony, notwithstanding, that you never played better in your life.” + +‘“Played! why, I never touched a card,” said I, in horror and amazement. + +‘“I wish you hadn’t, that’s all,” said he, while he took a pocket-book +from his pocket, and proceeded to open it on the bed. “If you hadn’t, I +should have been somewhat of a richer man this morning.” + +‘“I can only tell you,” said I, as I rubbed my eyes, and endeavoured to +waken up more completely--“I can only tell you that I don’t remember +anything of what you allude to, nor can I believe that I would have +broken a firm resolve I made against play----” + +‘“Gently, sir, gently,” said he, in a low, smooth voice; “be a little +careful, I beseech you; what you have just said amounts to something +very like a direct contradiction of my words. Please to remember, sir, +that we were strangers to each other yesterday morning. But to be brief, +was your last bet a double or quit, or only a ten-pound note, for on +that depends whether I owe you two hundred and sixty, or two hundred and +seventy pounds? Can you set me right on that point--they made such a +noise at the time, I can’t be clear about it.” + +‘“I protest, sir,” said I, once more, “this is all a dream to me; as I +have told you already, I never played----” + +‘“You never played, sir?” + +‘“I mean, I never knew I played, or I have no remembrance of it now.” + +‘“Well, young gentleman, fortune treats _you_ better when asleep than +she does _me_ with my eyes open, and as I have no time to lose, for I +leave for Bingen in half an hour, I have only to say, here is your +money. You may forget what you have won; I have also an obligation, but +a stronger one, to remember what I have lost; and as for the ten pounds, +shall we say head or tail for it, as we neither of us are quite clear +about it?” + +‘“Say anything you like, for I firmly believe one or the other of us +must be out of our reason.” + +‘“What do you say, sir--head or tail?” + +‘“Head!” cried I, in a frenzy; “there ought to be _one_ in the party.” + +‘“Won again, by Jove!” said he, opening his hand; “I think you’ll find +that rouleau correct; and now, sir, _au revoir_. I shall have my revenge +one of these days.” + +‘He shook my hand and went out, leaving me sitting up in the bed, trying +to remember some one circumstance of the previous night, by which I +could recall my joining the play-table. But nothing of the kind; a thick +haze was over everything, through which I could merely recollect the +spicy bishop, and my continued efforts to keep their glasses filled. +There I sat, puzzled and confused, the bed covered with bank-notes, +which after all have some confounded magic in their faces that makes our +acceptance of them a matter of far less repugnance than it ought. While +I counted over my gains, stopping every instant to think on the strange +caprices of fortune, that wouldn’t afford me the gambler’s pleasure of +winning, while enriching me with gain, the door opened, and in came +Crotty. + +‘“Not up yet! why, we start in ten minutes; didn’t the waiter call you?” + +‘“No. I am in a state of bewilderment this whole morning-----” + +‘“Well, well, get clear of it for a few seconds, I advise you, and let +us settle scores----” + +‘“What!” cried I, laughing, “have I won from you also?” + +‘“No, by Jove, it’s the other way. You pushed me rather sharply though, +and if I had taken all your bets I should have made a good thing of it. +As it is”--here he opened a memorandum-book and read out--“as it is, I +have only won seven hundred and twenty, and two hundred and fifty-eight- +-nine hundred and seventy-eight, I believe; does not that make it?” + +‘I shivered like one in the ague, and couldn’t speak a word. + +‘“Has Jacob booked up?” asked Crotty. + +‘“Yes,” said I, pointing to the notes on the bed, that now looked like a +brood of rattlesnakes to my eyes. + +‘“All right,” continued he, “Jacob is a most punctilious fellow-- +foolishly so, indeed, among friends. Well, what are we to say about +this--are you strong in cash just now?” + +‘“No,” stammered I, with a sigh. + +‘“Well, never mind--a short bill for the balance; I’ll take what’s here +in part payment, and don’t let the thing give you any inconvenience.” + +‘This was done in a good off-hand way. I signed the bill which he drew +up in due form. He had a dozen stamps ready in his pocket-book. He +rolled up the banknotes carelessly, stuffed them into his coat-pocket, +and with a most affectionate hope of seeing me next day at Wiesbaden, +left the room. + +‘The bill is paid--I released it in less than a week. My trip to +Kreuznach just cost me seven hundred pounds, and I may be pardoned if I +never like “bishop” for the rest of my life after.’ + +‘I should not wonder if you became a Presbyterian to-morrow,’ said I, +endeavouring to encourage his own effort at good-humour: ‘but here we +are at the Rhine. Good-bye; I needn’t warn you about----’ + +‘Not a word, I beseech you; I’ll never close my eyes as long as I live +without a double lock on the door of my bedroom.’ + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. THE RECOVERY HOUSE + +Frankfort is a German Liverpool, minus the shipping, and consequently +has few attractions for the mere traveller. The statue of ‘Ariadne,’ by +the Danish sculptor Danneker, is almost its only great work of art. +There are some, not first-rate, pictures in the Gallery and the Hôtel de +Ville, and the Town Library possesses a few Protestant relics--among +others, a pair of Luther’s slippers. + +There is, however, little to delay a wanderer within the walls of the +Frey Stadt, if he have no peculiar sympathy with the Jews and money- +changers. The whole place smacks of trade and traders, and seems far +prouder of being the native city of Rothschild than the birthplace of +Goethe. + +The happy indolence of a foreign city, the easy enjoyment of life so +conspicuous in most continental towns, exists not here. All is activity, +haste, and bustle. The tables d’hôte are crowded to excess by eager +individuals eating away against time, and anxious to get back once more +to the Exchange or the counting-house. There is a Yankee abruptness in +the manners of the men, who reply to you as though information were a +thing not to be had for nothing; and as for the women, like the wives +and daughters of all commercial communities, they are showy dressers and +poor talkers, wear the finest clothes and inhabit the most magnificent +houses, but scarcely become the one and don’t know how to live in the +other. + +I certainly should not like to pitch my tent in Frankfort, even as +successor to the great Munch Bellinghausen himself--Heaven grant I may +have given him all his consonants!--the President of the Diet. And yet +to the people themselves few places take such rooted hold on the +feelings of the inhabitants as trading cities. Talk of the attachment of +a Swiss or a Tyrolese to his native mountains--the dweller in Fleet +Street or the Hoch Grasse will beat him hollow. The daily occupations of +city life, filling up every nook and crevice of the human mind, leave no +room for any thought or wish beyond them. Hence arises that insufferable +air of self-satisfaction, that contented self-sufficiency, so observable +in your genuine Cockney. Leadenhall Street is to his notion the +touchstone of mankind, and a character on ‘Change the greatest test of +moral worth. Hamburg or Frankfort, Glasgow or Manchester, New York or +Bristol, it is all the same; your men of sugar and sassafras, of hides, +tallow, and train-oil, are a class in which nationality makes little +change. No men enjoy life more, few fear death as much. This is truly +strange! Any ordinary mind would suppose that the common period of human +life spent in such occupations as Frankfort, for instance, affords would +have little desire for longevity--that, in short, a man, let him be ever +such a glutton of Cocker, would have had enough of decimal fractions and +compound interest after fifty years; and that he could lay down the pen +without a sigh, and even for the sake of a little relaxation be glad to +go into the next world. Nothing of the kind; your Frankforter hates +dying above all things. The hardy peasant who sees the sun rise from his +native mountains, and beholds him setting over a glorious landscape of +wood and glen, of field and valley, can leave the bright world with +fewer regrets than your denizen of some dark alley or some smoke-dried +street in a great metropolis. The love of life--it may be axiomised--is +in the direct ratio of its artificiality. The more men shut out Nature +from their hearts and homes, and surround themselves with the hundred +little appliances of a factitious existence, the more do they become +attached to the world. The very changes of flood and field suggest the +thought of a hereafter to him who dwells among them; the falling leaf, +the withered branch, the mouldering decay of vegetation, bear lessons +there is no mistaking; and the mind thus familiarised learns to look +forward to the great event as the inevitable course of that law by which +he lives and breathes--while to others, again, the speculations which +grow out of the contemplation of Nature’s great works invariably are +blended with this thought. Not so your man of cities, who inhabits some +brick-surrounded kingdom, where the incessant din of active life as +effectually excludes deep reflection as does the smoky atmosphere the +bright sky above it. Immersed in worldly cares, interested heart and +soul in the pursuit of wealth, the solemn idea of death is not broken to +his mind by any analogy whatever. It is the pomp of the funeral that +realises the idea to him; it is as a thing of undertakers and mourning- +coaches, of mutes and palls, scarfs, sextons, and grave-diggers, that he +knows it--the horrid image of human woe and human mockery, of grief +walking in carnival. No wonder if it impress him with a greater dread! + +‘What has all this sad digression to do with Frankfort, Mr. O’Leary?’ +inquires some very impatient reader, who always will pull me short up +when I ‘m in for a four-mile-heat of moralising. Come, then, I’ll tell +you. The train of thought was suggested to me as I strolled along the +Boulevard to my hotel, meditating on one of the very strangest +institutions it had ever been my lot to visit in any country; and which, +stranger still, so far as I know, guidebook people have not mentioned in +any way. + +In a cemetery of Frankfort--a very tasteful imitation of Père la Chaise- +-there stands a large building, handsomely built, and in very correct +Roman architecture, which is called the Recovery House--being neither +more nor less than an institution devoted to the dead, for the purpose +of giving them every favourable opportunity of returning to life again +should they feel so disposed. The apartments are furnished with all the +luxurious elegance of the best houses; the beds are decorated with +carving and inlaying, the carpets soft and noiseless to the tread; and, +in fact, few of those who live and breathe are surrounded by such +appliances of enjoyment. Beside each bed there stands a small table, in +which certain ivory keys are fixed, exactly resembling those of a +pianoforte. On these is the hand of the dead man laid as he lies in the +bed; for instead of being buried, he is conveyed here after his supposed +death, and wrapped up in warm blankets, while the temperature of the +room itself is regulated by the season of the year. The slightest +movement of vitality in his fingers would press down one of the keys, +which communicate with a bell at the top of the building, where resides +a doctor, or rather two doctors, who take it watch and watch about, +ready at the summons to afford all the succour of their art. +Restoratives of every kind abound--all that human ingenuity can devise-- +in the way of cordials and stimulants, as well as a large and admirably +equipped staff of servants and nurses, whose cheerful aspect seems +especially intended to reassure the patient should he open his eyes once +more to life. + +The institution is a most costly one. The physicians, selected from +among the highest practitioners of Frankfort, are most liberally +remunerated, and the whole retinue of the establishment is maintained on +a footing of even extravagant expenditure. Of course, I need scarcely +say that its benefits, if such they be, are reserved for the wealthy +only. Indeed, I have been told that the cost of ‘this lying in state’ +exceeds that of the most expensive funeral fourfold. Sometimes there is +great difficulty in obtaining a vacant bed. Periods of epidemic disease +crowd the institution to such a degree that the greatest influence is +exerted for a place. Now, one naturally asks, What success has this +system met with to warrant this expenditure, and continue to enjoy +public confidence? None whatever. In seventeen years which one of the +resident doctors passed there, not _one_ case occurred of restored +animation; nor was there ever reason to believe that in any instance the +slightest signs of vitality ever returned. The physicians themselves +make little scruple at avowing the incredulity concerning its necessity, +and surprised me by the freedom with which they canvassed the excellent +but mistaken notions of its founders. + +To what, then, must we look for the reason of maintaining so strange an +institution? Simply to that love of life so remarkably conspicuous in +the people of Frankfort. The failure in a hundred instances is no +argument to any man who thinks his own case may present the exception. +It matters little to him that his neighbour was past revival when he +arrived there; the question is, What is his own chance? Besides that, +the fear of being buried alive--a dread only chimerical in other +countries--must often present itself here, when an institution is +maintained to prevent the casualty; in fact, there looks a something of +scant courtesy in consigning a man to the tomb at once, in a land where +a kind of purgatorial sojourn is provided for him. But stranger than all +is the secret hope this system nourishes in the sick man’s heart, that +however friends may despond, and doctors may pronounce, he has a chance +still; there is a period allowed him of appealing against the decree of +death--enough if he but lift a finger against it. What a singular +feature does the whole system expose, and how fond of the world must +they be who practise it! Who can tell whether this House of Recovery +does not creep in among the fading hopes of the death-bed, and if, among +the last farewells of parting life, some thoughts of that last chance +are not present to the sick man’s mind? As I walked through its silent +chambers, where the pale print of death was marked in every face that +lay there, I shuddered to think how the rich man’s gold will lead him to +struggle against the will of his Creator. La Morgue, in all its fearful +reality, came up before me, and the cold moist flags on which were +stretched the unknown corpses of the poor seemed far less horrible than +this gorgeous palace of the wealthy dead. + +Unquestionably, cases of recovery from trance occur in every land, and +the feelings of returning animation, I have often been told, are those +of most intense suffering. The inch to inch combat with death is a +fearful agony; yet what is it to the horrible sensations of _seeming_ +death, in which the consciousness survives all power of exertion, and +the mind burns bright within while the body is about to be given to the +earth. Can there be such a state as this? Some one will say, Is such a +condition possible? I believe it firmly. Many years ago a physician of +some eminence gave me an account of a fearful circumstance in his own +life, which not only bears upon the point in question, but illustrates +in a remarkable degree the powerful agency of volition as a principle of +vitality. I shall give the detail in his own words, without a syllable +of comment, save that I can speak, from my knowledge of the narrator, to +the truth of his narrative. + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. THE ‘DREAM OF DEATH’ + +‘It was already near four o’clock ere I bethought me of making any +preparation for my lecture. The day had been, throughout, one of those +heavy and sultry ones that autumn so often brings in our climate, and I +felt from this cause much oppressed and disinclined to exertion, +independently of the fact that I had been greatly over-fatigued during +the preceding week, some cases of a most trying and arduous nature +having fallen to my lot--one of which, from the importance of the life +to a young and dependent family, had engrossed much of my attention, and +aroused in me the warmest anxiety for success. In this frame of mind I +was entering my carriage to proceed to the lecture-room, when an +unsealed note was put into my hands; I opened it hastily, and read that +poor H-----, for whom I was so deeply interested, had just expired. I +was greatly shocked. It was scarcely an hour since I had seen him; and +from the apparent improvement since my former visit, I had ventured to +speak most encouragingly, and had even made some jesting allusions to +the speedy prospect of his once more resuming his place at hearth and +board. Alas! how short-lived were my hopes destined to be! how awfully +was my prophecy to be contradicted. + +‘No one but him who has himself experienced it knows anything of the +deep and heartfelt interest a medical man takes in many of the cases +which professionally come before him. I speak here of an interest +perfectly apart from all personal regard for the patient, or his +friends; indeed, the feeling I allude to has nothing in common with +this, and will often be experienced as thoroughly for a perfect stranger +as for one known and respected for years. To the extreme of this feeling +I was ever a victim. The heavy responsibility, often suddenly and +unexpectedly imposed; the struggle for success, when success was all but +hopeless; the intense anxiety for the arrival of those critical periods +which change the character of a malady, and divest it of some of its +dangers or invest it with new ones; the despondence when that period has +come only to confirm all the worst symptoms, and shut out every prospect +of recovery; and, last of all, that most trying of all the trying duties +of my profession, the breaking to the perhaps unconscious relatives that +my art has failed, that my resources are exhausted, and, in a word, that +there is no longer a hope--these things have preyed on me for weeks, for +months long, and many an effort have I made in secret to combat this +feeling, but without the least success, till at last I absolutely +dreaded the very thought of being summoned to a dangerous and critical +illness. It may then be believed how very heavily the news I had just +received came upon me; the blow, too, was not even lessened by the poor +consolation of my having anticipated the result and broken the shock to +the family. I was still standing with the half-opened note in my hands, +when I was aroused by the coachman asking, I believe for the third time, +whither he should drive. I bethought me for an instant, and said, “To +the lecture-room.” + +‘When in health, lecturing had ever been to me more of an amusement than +a labour; and often, in the busy hours of professional visiting, have I +longed for the time when I should come before my class, and divesting my +mind of all individual details, launch forth into the more abstract and +speculative doctrines of my art. It so chanced, too, that the late hour +at which I lectured, as well as the subjects I adopted, usually drew to +my class many of the advanced members of the profession, who made this a +lounge after the fatigues of the morning. + +‘Now, however, I approached this duty with fear and trembling; the +events of the morning had depressed my mind greatly, and I longed for +rest and retirement. The passing glance I threw at the lecture-room +through the half-opened door showed it to be crowded to the very roof, +and as I walked along the corridor I heard the name of some foreign +physician of eminence, who was among my auditory. I cannot describe the +agitation of mind I felt at this moment. My confusion, too, became +greater as I remembered that the few notes I had drawn up were left in +the pocket of the carriage, which I had just dismissed, intending to +return on foot. It was already considerably past the usual hour, and I +was utterly unable to decide how to proceed. I hastily drew out a +portfolio that contained many scattered notes and hints for lectures, +and hurriedly throwing my eye across them, discovered some singular +memoranda on the subject of insanity. On these I resolved at once to +dilate a little, and eke out, if possible, the materials for a lecture. + +‘The events of the remainder of that day are wrapped in much obscurity +to my mind, yet I well remember the loud thunder of applause which +greeted me on entering the lecture-room, and how, as for some moments I +appeared to hesitate, they were renewed again and again, till at last, +summoning resolution, I collected myself sufficiently to open my +discourse. I well remember, too, the difficulty the first few sentences +cost me--the doubts, the fears, the pauses, which beset me at every step +as I went on--my anxiety to be clear and accurate in conveying my +meaning making me recapitulate and repeat, till I felt myself, as it +were, working in a circle. By degrees, however, I grew warmed as I +proceeded; and the evident signs of attention my auditory exhibited gave +me renewed courage, while they impressed me with the necessity to make a +more than common exertion. By degrees, too, I felt the mist clearing +from my brain, and that even without effort my ideas came faster, and my +words fell from me with ease and rapidity. Simile and illustration came +in abundance, and distinctions which had hitherto struck me as the most +subtle and difficult of description I now drew with readiness and +accuracy. Points of an abstruse and recondite nature, which under other +circumstances I should not have wished to touch upon, I now approached +fearlessly and boldly, and felt, in the very moment of speaking, that +they became clearer and clearer to myself. Theories and hypotheses which +were of old and acknowledged acceptance I glanced hurriedly at as I went +on, and with a perspicuity and clearness I never before felt exposed +their fallacies and unmasked their errors. I thought I was rather +describing events, things actually passing before my eyes at the +instant, than relating the results of a life’s experience and +reflection. My memory, usually a defective one, now carried me back to +the days of my early childhood; and the whole passages of a life lay +displayed before me like a picture. If I quoted, the very words of the +author rushed to my mind as palpably as though the page lay open before +me. I have still some vague recollection of an endeavour I made to trace +the character of the insanity in every case to some early trait of the +individual in childhood, when, overcome by passion or overbalanced by +excitement, the faculties run wild into all those excesses which in +after years develop eccentricities of character, and in some weaker +temperaments aberrations of intellect. Anecdotes illustrating this novel +position came thronging to my mind; and events in the early years of +some who subsequently died insane, and seemed to support my theory, came +rushing to my memory. + +‘As I proceeded, I became gradually more and more excited; the very ease +and rapidity with which my ideas suggested themselves increased the +fervour of my imaginings, till at last I felt my words come without +effort and spontaneously, while there seemed a commingling of my +thoughts which left me unable to trace connection between them, though I +continued to speak as fluently as before. I felt at this instant a +species of indistinct terror of some unknown danger which hung over me, +yet which it was impossible to avert or to avoid. I was like one who, +borne on the rapid current of a fast-flowing river, sees the foam of the +cataract before him, yet waits passively for the moment of his +destruction, without an effort to save. The power which maintained my +mind in its balance had gradually forsaken me, and shapes and fantasies +of every odd and fantastic character flitted around and about me. The +ideas and descriptions my mind had conjured up assumed a living, +breathing vitality, and I felt like a necromancer waving his wand over +the living and the dead. I paused; there was a dead silence in the +lecture-room. A thought rushed like a meteor-flash across my brain, and +bursting forth into a loud laugh of hysteric passion, I cried, “And I, +and I too am a maniac!” My class rose like one man; a cry of horror +burst through the room. I know no more. + +‘I was ill, very ill, and in bed. I looked around me--every object was +familiar to me. Through the half-closed window-shutter there streamed +one long line of red sunlight; I felt it was evening. There was no one +in the room, and as I endeavoured to recall my scattered thoughts +sufficiently to find out why I was thus, there came an oppressive +weakness over me. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, and was roused by +some one entering the room. It was my friend Dr. G------; he walked +stealthily towards my bed, and looked at me fixedly for several minutes. +I watched him closely, and saw that his countenance changed as he looked +on me; I felt his hand tremble slightly as he placed it on my wrist, and +heard him mutter to himself in a low tone, “My God! how altered!” I +heard now a voice at the door, saying in a soft whisper, “May I come +in?” The doctor made no reply, and my wife glided gently into the +apartment. She looked deathly pale, and appeared to have been weeping; +she leaned over me, and I felt the warm tears fall one by one upon my +forehead. She took my hand within both of hers, and putting her lips to +my ear, said, “Do you know _me_, William?” There was a long pause. I +tried to speak, but I could not. I endeavoured to make some sign of +recognition, and stared her fully in the face; but I heard her say, in a +broken voice, “He does not know _me_ now”; and then I felt it was in +vain. The doctor came over, and taking my wife’s hand, endeavoured to +lead her from the room. I heard her say, “Not now, not now”; and I sank +back into a heavy unconsciousness. + +‘I awoke from what appeared to have been a long and deep sleep. I was, +however, unrefreshed and unrested. My eyes were dimmed and clouded, and +I in vain tried to ascertain if there was any one in the room with me. +The sensation of fever had subsided, and left behind the most depressing +debility. As by degrees I came to myself, I found that the doctor was +sitting beside my bed; he bent over me, and said, “Are you better, +William?” Never until now had my inability to reply given me any pain or +uneasiness; now, however, the abortive struggle to speak was torture. I +thought and felt that my senses were gradually yielding beneath me, and +a cold shuddering at my heart told me that the hand of death was upon +me. The exertion now made to repel the fatal lethargy must have been +great, for a cold, clammy perspiration broke profusely over my body; a +rushing sound, as if of water, filled my ears; a succession of short +convulsive spasms, as if given by an electric machine, shook my limbs. I +grasped the doctor’s hand firmly in mine, and starting to the sitting +posture I looked wildly about me. My breathing became shorter and +shorter, my grasp relaxed, my eyes swam, and I fell back heavily in the +bed. The last recollection of that moment was the muttered expression of +my poor friend G------, saying, “It is over at last.” + +‘Many hours must have elapsed ere I returned to any consciousness. My +first sensation was feeling the cold wind across my face, which seemed +to come from an open window. My eyes were closed, and the lids felt as +if pressed down by a weight. My arms lay along my side, and though the +position in which I lay was constrained and unpleasant, I could make no +effort to alter it; I tried to speak, but I could not. + +‘As I lay thus, the footsteps of many persons traversing the apartment +broke upon my ear, followed by a heavy dull sound, as if some weighty +body had been laid upon the floor; a harsh voice of one near me now +said, as if reading, “William H------, aged thirty-eight years; I +thought him much more.” The words rushed through my brain, and with the +rapidity of a lightning flash every circumstance of my illness came +before me; and I now knew that I had died, and that for my interment +were intended the awful preparations about me. Was this then death? +Could it be that though coldness wrapped the suffering clay, passion and +sense should still survive, and that while every external trace of life +had fled, consciousness should still cling to the cold corpse destined +for the earth? Oh, how horrible, how more than horrible, the terror of +the thought! Then I thought it might be what is termed a trance; but +that poor hope deserted me as I brought to mind the words of the doctor, +who knew too well all the unerring signs of death to be deceived by its +counterfeit, and my heart sank as they lifted me into the coffin, and I +felt that my limbs had stiffened, as I knew this never took place in a +trance. How shall I tell the heart-cutting anguish of that moment, as my +mind looked forward to a futurity too dreadful to think upon--when +memory should call up many a sunny hour of existence, the loss of +friends, the triumph of exertion, and then fall back upon the dread +consciousness of the ever-buried life the grave closed over; and then I +thought that perhaps sense but lingered round the lifeless clay, as the +spirits of the dead are said to hover around the places and homes they +have loved in life ere they leave them for ever, and that soon the lamp +should expire upon the shrine when the temple that sheltered it lay +mouldering and in ruins. Alas! how fearful to dream of even the +happiness of the past, in that cold grave where the worm only is a +reveller! to think that though + + +“Friends, brothers, and sisters are laid side by side, Yet none have ere +questioned, nor none have replied;” + +yet that all felt in their cold and mouldering hearts the loves and +affections of life, budding and blossoming as though the stem was not +rotting to corruption that bore them. I brought to mind the awful +punishment of the despot who chained the living to the dead man, and +thought it mercy when compared to this. + +‘How long I lay thus I know not, but the dreary silence of the chamber +was again broken, and I found that some of my dearest friends were come +to take a farewell look at me ere the coffin was closed upon me for +ever. Again the horror of my state struck me with all its forcible +reality, and like a meteor there shot through my heart the bitterness of +years of misery condensed into the space of a minute. And then I +remembered how gradual is death, and how by degrees it creeps over every +portion of the frame, like the track of the destroyer, blighting as it +goes, and said to my heart, All may yet be still within me, and the mind +as lifeless as the body it dwelt in. Yet these feelings partook of life +in all their strength and vigour; there was the will to move, to speak, +to see, to live, and yet all was torpid and inactive, as though it had +never lived. Was it that the nerves, from some depressing cause, had +ceased to transmit the influence of the brain? Had these winged +messengers of the mind refused their office? And then I recalled the +almost miraculous efficacy of the will, exerted under circumstances of +great exigency, and with a concentration of power that some men only are +capable of. I had heard of the Indian father who suckled his child at +his own bosom, when he had laid its mother in her grave; yet was it not +the will had wrought this miracle? I myself have seen the paralytic limb +awake to life and motion by the powerful application of the mind +stimulating the nervous channels of communication, and awakening the +dormant powers of vitality to their exercise. I knew of one whose heart +beat fast or slow as he did will it. Yes, thought I, in a transport, the +will to live is the power to live; and only when this faculty has +yielded with bodily strength need death be the conqueror over us. + +‘The thought of reanimation was ecstatic, but I dared not dwell upon it; +the moments passed rapidly on, and even now the last preparations were +about to be made, ere they committed my body to the grave. How was the +effort to be made? If the will did indeed possess the power I trusted +in, how was it to be applied? I had often wished to speak or move during +my illness, yet was unable to do either. I then remembered that in those +cases where the will had worked its wonders, the powers of the mind had +entirely centred themselves in the one heart-filling desire to +accomplish a certain object, as the athlete in the games strains every +muscle to lift some ponderous weight. Thus I knew that if the heart +could be so subjected to the principle of volition, as that, yielding to +its impulse, it would again transmit the blood along its accustomed +channels, and that then the lungs should be brought to act upon the +blood by the same agency, the other functions of the body would be more +readily restored by the sympathy with these great ones. Besides, I +trusted that so long as the powers of the mind existed in the vigour I +felt them in, that much of what might be called latent vitality existed +in the body. Then I set myself to think upon those nerves which preside +over the action of the heart--their origin, their course, their +distribution, their relation, their sympathies; I traced them as they +arose in the brain, and tracked them till they were lost in millions of +tender threads upon the muscle of the heart. I thought, too, upon the +lungs as they lay flaccid and collapsed within my chest, the life-blood +stagnant in their vessels, and tried to possess my mind with the +relation of these two parts to the utter exclusion of every other +endeavoured then to transmit along the nerves the impulse of that +faculty my whole hopes rested on. Alas! it was in vain. I tried to heave +my chest and breathe, but could not; my heart sank within me, and all my +former terrors came thickening around me, more dreadful by far as the +stir and bustle in the room indicated they were about to close the +coffin. + +‘At this moment my dear friend B------ entered the room. + +He had come many miles to see me once more, and they made way for him to +approach me as I lay. He placed his warm hand upon my breast, and oh the +throb it sent through my heart! Again, but almost unconsciously to +myself, the impulse rushed along my nerves; a bursting sensation seized +my chest, a tingling ran through my frame, a crashing, jarring +sensation, as if the tense nervous cords were vibrating to some sudden +and severe shock, took hold on me; and then, after one violent +convulsive throe which brought the blood from my mouth and eyes, my +heart swelled, at first slowly, then faster, and the nerves +reverberated, clank! clank! responsive to the stroke. At the same time +the chest expanded, the muscles strained like the cordage of a ship in a +heavy sea, and I breathed once more. + +‘While thus the faint impulse to returning life was given, the dread +thought flashed on me that it might not be real, and that to my own +imagination alone were referable the phenomena I experienced. At the +same instant the gloomy doubt crossed my mind it was dispelled; for I +heard a cry of horror through the room, and the words, “He is alive! he +still lives!” from a number of voices around me. The noise and confusion +increased. + +I heard them say, “Carry out B------ before he sees him again; he has +fainted!” Directions and exclamations of wonder and dread followed one +upon another; and I can but call to mind the lifting me from the coffin, +and the feeling of returning warmth I experienced as I was placed before +a fire, and supported by the arms of my friend. + +‘I will only add that after some weeks of painful debility I was again +restored to health, having tasted the full bitterness of death.’ + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. THE STRANGE GUEST + +The Eil Wagen, into whose bowels I had committed myself on leaving +Frankfort, rolled along for twenty-four hours before I could come to any +determination as to whither I should go; for so is it that perfect +liberty is sometimes rather an inconvenience, and a little despotism is +now and then no bad thing; and at this moment I could have given a ten- +gulden piece to any one who should have named my road, and settled my +destination. + +‘Where are we?’ said I, at length, as we straggled, nine horses and all, +into a great vaulted _porte cochère_. + +‘At the “Koenig von Preussen,” mein Herr,’ said a yellow-haired waiter, +who flourished a napkin about him in truly professional style. + +‘Ah, very true; but in what town, city, or village, and in whose +kingdom?’ + +‘Ach, du lieber Gott!’ exclaimed he, with his eyes opened to their +fullest extent. ‘Where would you be but in the city of Hesse-Cassel, in +the Grand-Duchy of Seiner Königlichen Hoheit-----’ + +‘Enough, more than enough! Let me have supper.’ + +The Speisesaal was crowded with travellers and townspeople as I entered; +but the room was of great size, and a goodly table, amply provided, +occupied the middle of it. Taking my place at this, I went ahead through +the sliced shoe-leather, yclept beef, the Kalbs-braten and the Gurken- +salat, and all the other indigestible abominations of that light meal a +German takes before he lies down at night. The company were, with the +exception of a few military men, of that nondescript class every German +town abounds with--a large-headed, long-haired, plodding-looking +generation, with huge side-pockets in their trousers, from one of which +a cherry-wood pipe-stick is sure to project; civil, obliging, good sort +of people they are, but by no means remarkable for intelligence or +agreeability. But then, what mind could emerge from beneath twelve solid +inches of beetroot and bouilli, and what brain could bear immersion in +Bavarian beer? + +One never can understand fully how atrocious the tyranny of Napoleon +must have been in Germany, until he has visited that country and seen +something of its inhabitants; then only can one compute what must the +hurricane have been that convulsed the waters of such a landlocked bay. +Never was there a people so little disposed to compete with their +rulers, never was obedience more thoroughly an instinct. The whole +philosophy of the German’s mind teaches him to look within rather than +without; his own resources are more his object in life than the +enjoyment of state privileges, and to his peaceful temper endurance is a +pleasanter remedy than resistance. Almost a Turk in his love of +tranquillity, he has no sympathy with revolutions or public disturbances +of any kind, and the provocation must indeed be great when he arouses +himself to resist it. That when he is thus called on he can act with +energy and vigour, the campaigns of 1813 and 1814 abundantly testify. +Twice the French armies had to experience the heavy retribution on +unjust invasion. Both Spain and Germany repaid the injuries they had +endured, but with a characteristic difference of spirit. In the one case +it was the desultory attacks of savage guerillas, animated by the love +of plunder as much as by patriotism; in the other, the rising of a great +people to defend their homes and altars, presented the glorious +spectacle of a nation going forth to the fight. The wild notes of the +Basque bugle rang not out with such soul-stirring effects as the +beautiful songs of Körner, heard beside the watch-fire or at the +peasant’s hearth. The conduct of their own princes might have debased +the national spirit of any other people; but the German’s attachment to +Fatherland is not a thing of courtly rule nor conventional agreement. He +loves the land and the literature of his fathers; he is proud of the +good faith and honesty which are the acknowledged traits of Saxon +character; he holds to the ‘sittliche Leben,’ the orderly domestic +habits of his country; and as he wages not a war of aggression on +others, he resists the spoliation of an enemy on the fields of his +native country. + +When the French revolution fire broke out, the students were amongst its +most ardent admirers; the destruction of the Bastile was celebrated +among the secret festivals of the Burschenschaft; and although the fever +was a brief one, and never extended among the more thinking portion of +the nation, to that same enthusiasm for liberty was owing the great +burst of national energy which in 1813 convulsed the land from the +Baltic to the Tyrol, and made Leipsic the compensation for Jena. + +With all his grandeur of intellect, Napoleon never understood the +national character--perhaps he may have despised it. One of his most +fatal errors, undoubtedly, was the little importance he attached to the +traits which distinguish one country from another, and the seeming +indifference with which he propounded notions of government +diametrically opposed to all the traditions and prejudices of those for +whom they were intended. The great desire for centralisation; the +ambition to make France the heart of Europe, through whose impulse the +life-blood should circulate over the entire Continent; to merge all +distinctions of race and origin, and make Frenchmen of one quarter of +the globe--was a stupendous idea, and if nations were enrolled in +armies, might not be impossible. The effort to effect it, however, cost +him the greatest throne of Christendom. + +The French rule in Spain, in Italy, and in Holland, so far from +conciliating the good-will and affection of the people, has sown the +seeds of that hatred to France in each of these countries that a century +will not eradicate; while no greater evidence of Napoleon’s ignorance of +national character need be adduced than in the expectations he indulged +in the event of his landing an army in England. His calculation on +support from any part of the British people--no matter how opposed to +the ministry of the day, or how extreme in their wishes for extended +liberties--was the most chimerical thought that ever entered the brain +of man. Very little knowledge of our country might have taught him that +the differences of party spirit never survive the mere threat of foreign +invasion; that however Englishmen may oppose one another, they reserve a +very different spirit of resistance for the stranger who should attack +their common country; and that party, however it may array men in +opposite ranks, is itself but the evidence of patriotism, seeking +different paths for its development. + +It was at the close of a little reverie to this purpose that I found +myself sitting with one other guest at the long table of the Speisesaal; +the rest had dropped off one by one, leaving him in the calm enjoyment +of his meerschaum and his cup of black coffee. There was something +striking in the air and appearance of this man, and I could not help +regarding him closely; he was about fifty years of age, but with a +carriage as erect and a step as firm as any man of twenty. A large white +moustache met his whiskers of the same colour, and hung in heavy curl +over his upper lip; his forehead was high and narrow, and his eyes, +deeply set, were of a greenish hue, and shaded by large eyebrows that +met when he frowned. His dress was a black frock, braided in Prussian +taste and decorated by a single cordon, which hung not over the breast, +but on an empty sleeve of his coat, for I now perceived that he had lost +his right arm near the shoulder. That he was a soldier and had seen +service, the most careless observer could have detected; his very look +and bearing bespoke the _militaire_. He never spoke to any one during +supper, and from that circumstance, as well as his dissimilarity to the +others, I judged him to be a traveller. There are times when one is more +than usually disposed to let Fancy take the bit in her mouth and run off +with them; and so I suffered myself to weave a story, or rather a dozen +stories, for my companion, and did not perceive that while I was +inventing a history for him he had most ungratefully decamped, leaving +me in a cloud of tobacco-smoke and difficult conjectures. + +When I descended to the Saal the next morning I found him there before +me; he was seated at breakfast before one of the windows, which +commanded a view over the platz and the distant mountains. And here let +me ask, Have you ever been in Hesse-Cassel? The chances are, not. It is +the highroad--nowhere. You neither pass it going to Berlin or Dresden. +There is no wonder of scenery or art to attract strangers to it; and yet +if accident should bring you thither, and plant you in the ‘König von +Preussen,’ with no pressing necessity urging you onward, there are many +less pleasant things you could do than spend a week there. The hotel +stands on one side of a great platz, or square, at either side of which +the theatre and a museum form the other two wings; the fourth being left +free of building, is occupied by a massive railing of most laboured +tracery, which opens to a wide gate in a broad flight of steps, +descending about seventy feet into a spacious park. The tall elms and +beech-trees can be seen waving their tops over the grille above, and +seeming, from the platz, like young timber; beyond, and many miles away, +can be seen the bold chain of the Taunus Mountains stretching to the +clouds, forming altogether a view which for extent and splendour I know +no city that can present the equal. I could scarce restrain my +admiration; and as I stood actually riveted to the spot, I was totally +inattentive to the second summons of the waiter, informing me that my +breakfast awaited me in another part of the room. + +‘What, yonder?’ said I, in some disappointment at being so far removed +from all chance of the prospect. + +‘Perhaps you would join me here, sir,’ said the officer, rising, and +with a most affable air saluting me. + +‘If not an intrusion----’ + +‘By no means,’ said he. ‘I am a passionate admirer of that view myself. +I have known it many years, and I always feel happy when a stranger +participates in my enjoyment of it.’ + +I confess I was no less gratified by the opportunity thus presented of +forming an acquaintance with the officer himself than with the scenery, +and I took my seat with much pleasure. As we chatted away about the town +and the surrounding country, he half expressed a curiosity at my taking +a route so little travelled by my countrymen, and seemed much amused by +my confession that the matter was purely accidental, and that frequently +I left the destination of my ramble to the halting-place of the +diligence. As English eccentricity can, in a foreigner’s estimation, +carry any amount of absurdity, he did not set me down for a madman-- +which, had I been French or Italian, he most certainly would have done-- +and only smiled slightly at my efforts to defend a procedure in his eyes +so ludicrous. + +‘You confess,’ said I, at last, somewhat nettled by the indifference +with which he heard my most sapient arguments--‘you confess on what mere +casualties every event of life turns, what straws decide the whole +destiny of a man, and what mere trivial circumstances influence the fate +of whole nations, and how in our wisest and most matured plans some +unexpected contingency is ever arising to disconcert and disarrange us; +why, then, not go a step farther--leave more to fate, and reserve all +our efforts to behave well and sensibly, wherever we may be placed, in +whatever situations thrown? As we shall then have fewer disappointments, +we shall also enjoy a more equable frame of mind, to combat with the +world’s chances.’ + +‘True, if a man were to lead a life of idleness, such a wayward course +might possibly suffice him as well as any other; but, bethink you, it is +not thus men have wrought great deeds, and won high names for +themselves. It is not by fickleness and caprice, by indolent yielding to +the accident of the hour, that reputations have been acquired----’ + +‘You speak,’ said I, interrupting him at this place--‘you speak as if +humble men like myself were to occupy their place in history, and not +lie down in the dust of the churchyard undistinguishable and forgotten.’ + +‘When they cease to act otherwise than to deserve commemoration, rely +upon it their course is a false one. Our conscience may be--indeed often +is--a bribed judge; and it is only by representing to ourselves how our +modes of acting and thinking would tell upon the minds of others, +reading of but not knowing us, that we arrive at that certain rule of +right so difficult in many worldly trials. + +‘And do you think a man becomes happier by this?’ + +‘I did not say happier,’ said he, with a sorrowful emphasis on the last +word. ‘He may be better.’ + +With that he rose from his seat, and looking at his watch he apologised +for leaving me so suddenly, and departed. + +‘Who is the gentleman that has just gone out?’ asked I of the waiter. + +‘The Baron von Elgenheim,’ replied he; ‘but they mostly call him the +Black Colonel. Not for his moustaches,’ added he, laughing with true +German familiarity, ‘they are white enough, but he always wears +mourning.’ + +‘Does he belong to Hesse, then?’ + +‘Not he; he’s an Auslander of some sort--a Swabian, belike; but he comes +here every year, and stays three or four weeks at a time. And, droll +enough too, though he has been doing so for fifteen or sixteen years, he +has not a single acquaintance in all Cassel; indeed, I never saw him +speak to a stranger till this morning.’ + +These particulars, few as they were, all stimulated my curiosity to see +more of the colonel; but he did not present himself at the table d’hôte +on that day or the following one, and I only met him by chance in the +Park, when a formal salute, given with cold politeness, seemed to say +our acquaintance was at an end. + +Now, there are certain inns which by a strange magnetism are felt as +homes at once; there is a certain air of quietude and repose about them +that strikes you when you enter, and which gains on you every hour of +your stay. The landlord, too, has a bearing compounded of cordiality and +respect; and the waiter, divining your tastes and partialities, falls +quickly into your ways, and seems to regard you as an _habitué_ while +you are yet a stranger; while the ringleted young lady at the bar, who +passed you the first day on the stairs with a well-practised +indifference, now accosts you with a smile and a curtsy, and already +believes you an old acquaintance. + +To an indolent man like myself, these houses are impossible to leave. If +it be summer, you are sure to have a fresh bouquet in your bedroom every +morning when you awake; in winter, the _garçon_ has discovered how you +like your slippers toasted on the fender, and your _robe de chambre_ +airing on the chair; the cook learns your taste in cutlets, and knows to +a nicety how to season your _omelette aux fines herbes_; the very +washerwoman of the establishment has counted the plaits in your shirt, +and wouldn’t put one more or less for any bribery. By degrees, too, you +become a kind of confidant of the whole household. The host tells you of +ma’mselle’s fortune, and the match on the tapis for her, and all the +difficulties and advantages, contra and pro; the waiter has revealed to +you a secret of passion for the chambermaid, but for which he would be +Heaven knows how many thousand miles off, in some wonderful place, where +the wages would enable him to retire in less than a twelvemonth; and +even Boots, while depositing your Wellingtons before the fire, has +unburdened his sorrows and his hopes, and asks your advice, ‘if he +shouldn’t become a soldier?’ When this hour arrives, the house is your +own. Let what will happen, _your_ fire burns brightly in your bedroom; +let who will come, _your_ dinner is cared for to a miracle. The +newspaper, coveted by a dozen and eagerly asked for, is laid by for your +reading; you are, then, in the poets words-- + + +‘Liber, honoratus, pulcher--Rex denique Regum’; + +and let me tell you, there are worse sovereignties. + +Apply this to the ‘König von Preussen,’ and wonder not if I found myself +its inhabitant for three weeks afterwards. + + + +CHAPTER XXX. THE PARK + +In somewhat less than a fortnight’s time I had made a bowing +acquaintance with some half-dozen good subjects of Hesse, and formed a +chatting intimacy with some three or four frequenters of the table +d’hôte, with whom I occasionally strolled out of an afternoon into the +Park, to drink coffee, and listen to the military band that played there +every evening. The quiet uniformity of the life pleased and never +wearied me; for happily--or unhappily, as some would deem it--mine is +one of those tame and commonplace natures which need not costly +amusements nor expensive tastes to occupy it. I enjoyed the society of +agreeable people with a gusto few possess; I can also put up with the +association with those of a different stamp, feeling sensibly how much +more I am on a level with them, and how little pretension I have to find +myself among the others. Fortunately, too, I have no sympathy with the +pleasures which wealth alone commands--it was a taste denied me. I +neither affect to undervalue their importance, nor sneer at their +object; I simply confess that the faculty which renders them desirable +was by some accident omitted from my nature, and I never yet felt the +smallness of my fortune a source of regret. + +There is no such happiness, to my notion, as that which enables a man to +be above the dependence on others for his pleasures and amusements, to +have the sources of enjoyment in his own mind, and to feel that his own +thoughts and his own reflections are his best wealth. There is no +selfishness in this; far from it. The stores thus laid by make a man a +better member of society, more ready to assist, more able to advise his +fellow-men. By standing aloof from the game of life, you can better +estimate the chances of success and the skill of the players; and as you +have no stake in the issue, the odds are that your opinion is a correct +one. But, better than all, how many enjoyments which to the glitter of +wealth or the grandeur of a high position would seem insignificant and +valueless, are to the humble man sources of hourly delight! And is our +happiness anything but an aggregate of these grains of pleasure? There +is as much philosophy in the child’s toy as in the nobleman’s coronet; +all the better for him who can limit his desires to the attainable, and +be satisfied with what lies within his reach. I have practised the +system for a life long, and feel that if I now enjoy much of the +buoyancy and the spirit of more youthful days, it is because I have +never taxed my strength beyond its ability, nor striven for more than I +could justly pretend to. There is something of indolence in all this--I +know there is; but I was born under a lazy star, and I cannot say I +regret my destiny. + +From this little _exposé_ of my tastes and habits it may be gathered +that Cassel suited me perfectly. The air of repose which rests on these +little secluded capitals has something--to me at least--inexpressibly +pleasurable. The quaint old-fashioned equipages, drawn along at a gentle +amble; the obsolete dress of the men in livery; the studious ceremony of +the passers to each other; the absence of all bustle; the primitive +objects of sale exposed in the various shops--all contrasting so +powerfully with the wealth-seeking tumult of richer communities--suggest +thoughts of tranquillity and contentment. They are the bourgeoisie of +the great political world. Debarred from the great game which empires +and kingdoms are playing, they retire within the limits of their own +narrow but safe enjoyments, with ample means for every appliance of +comfort; they seek not to astonish the world by any display, but content +themselves with the homely happiness within their reach. + +Every day I lingered here I felt this conviction the stronger. The small +interests which occupied the public mind originated no violent passions, +no exaggerated party spirit. The journals--those indices of a nation’s +mind--contained less politics than criticism; an amicable little +contention about the site of a new fountain or the position of an +elector’s statue was the extent of any discussion; while at every +opportunity crept out some little congratulating expression on the +goodness of the harvest, the abundance of the vintage, or, what was +scarcely less valued, the admirable operatic company which had just +arrived. These may seem very petty incidents for men to pass their lives +amongst, thought I, but still they all seem very happy; there is much +comfort, there is no poverty. Like the court whist-table, where the +points are only for silver groschen, the amusement is just as great, and +no one is ruined by high play. + +I am not sure but I should have made an excellent Hessian, thought I, as +I deposited two little silver pieces, about the size of a spangle, on +the table, in payment for a very appetising little supper, and an ink- +bottleful of Rhine wine. And now for the coffee. + +I was seated beneath a great chestnut-tree, whose spreading branches +shaded me from the rays of the setting sun that came slanting to my very +feet. At a short distance off sat a little family party--grandfather, +grandchildren, and all--there was no mistaking them; they were eating +their supper in the Park, possibly in honour of some domestic fête. Yes, +there could be no doubt of it; it was the birthday of that pretty, dark- +eyed little girl, of some ten years of age, who wore a wreath of roses +in her hair, and sat at the top of the table, beside the Greis. A peal +of delighted laughter broke from them all as I looked. And now I could +see a little boy of scarce five years old, whose long yellow locks hung +midway down his back; he was standing beside his sister’s chair, and I +could hear his infant voice reciting a little verse he had learned in +honour of the day. The little man, whose gravity contrasted so +ludicrously with the merry looks about, went through his task as +steadily as a court preacher holding forth before royalty; an occasional +breach of memory would make him now and then turn his head to one side, +where an elder sister knelt, and then he would go on again as before. I +wished much to catch the words, but could only hear the refrain of each +verse, which he always repeated louder than the rest-- + + +‘Da sind die Tage lang genuch, Da sind die Nachte mild.’ + +Scarcely had he finished when his mother caught him to her arms and +kissed him a hundred times; while the others struggled to take him, the +little fellow clung to her neck with all his strength. + +It was a picture of such happiness, that to look on it were alone a +blessing. I have that night’s looks and cheerful voices fresh in my +memory, and have thought of them many a long mile away from where I then +heard them. + +A slight noise beside me made me turn round, and I saw the Black +Colonel, as the waiter called him, and whom I had not met for several +days past. He was seated on a bench near, but with his back towards me, +and I could perceive he was evidently unaware of my presence. I had, I +must confess it, felt somewhat piqued at his avoidance of me, for such +the distant recognition with which he saluted me seemed to imply. He had +made the first advances himself, and it was scarcely fair that he should +have thus abruptly stopped short, after inviting acquaintance. While I +was meditating a retreat, he turned suddenly about, and then, taking off +his hat, saluted me with a courtly politeness quite different from his +ordinary manner. + +‘I see, sir,’ said he with a very sweet smile, as he looked towards the +little group--‘I see, sir, you are indeed an admirer of pretty +prospects.’ + +Few and simple as the words were, they were enough to reconcile me to +the speaker; his expression, as he spoke them, had a depth of feeling in +it which showed that his heart was touched. + +After some commonplace remark of mine on the simplicity of German +domestic habits and the happy immunity they enjoyed from that rage of +fashion which in other countries involved so many in rivalry with others +wealthier than themselves, the colonel assented to the observation, but +expressed his sorrow that the period of primitive tastes and pleasures +was rapidly passing away. The French Revolution first, and subsequently +the wars of the Empire, had done much to destroy the native simplicity +of German character; while in latter days the tide of travel had brought +a host of vulgar rich people, whose gold corrupted the once happy +peasantry, suggesting wants and tastes they never knew nor need to know. + +‘As for the great cities of Germany,’ continued he, ‘they have scarcely +a trace left of their ancient nationality. Vienna and Berlin, Dresden, +and Munich, are but poor imitations of Paris; it is only in the old and +less visited towns, such as Nuremberg, or Augsburg, that the Alt Deutsch +habits still survive. Some few of the Grand-Ducal States--Weimar, for +instance--preserve the primitive simplicity of former days even in +courtly etiquette; and there, really, the government is paternal, in the +fullest sense of the term. You would think it strange, would you not, to +dine at court at four o’clock, and see the grand-ducal ministers and +their ladies--the élite of a little world of their own--proceeding, many +of them on foot, in court-dress, to dinner with their sovereign? +Strange, too, would you deem it--dinner over--to join a promenade with +the party in the Park, where all the bourgeoisie of the town are +strolling about with their families, taking their coffee and their tea, +and only interrupting their conversation or their pleasure to salute the +Grand-Duke or Grand-Duchess, and respectfully bid them a “good-e’en”; +and then, as it grew later, to return to the palace, for a little whist +or a game of chess, or, better still, to make one of that delightful +circle in the drawing-room where Goethe was sitting? Yes, such is the +life of Weimar. The luxury of your great capitals, the gorgeous salons +of London and Paris, the voluptuous pleasures which unbounded wealth and +all its train of passions beget, are utterly unknown there; but there is +a world of pure enjoyment and of intercourse with high and gifted minds +which more than repay you for their absence. A few years more, and all +this will be but “matter for an old man’s memory.” Increased facilities +of travel and greater knowledge of language erase nationality most +rapidly. The venerable habits transmitted from father to son for +centuries--the traditional customs of a people--cannot survive a +caricature nor a satire. The _esprit moqueur_ of France and the insolent +wealth of England have left us scarce a vestige of our Fatherland. Our +literature is at this instant a thing of shreds and patches--bad +translations of bad books; the deep wisdom and the racy humour of Jean +Paul are unknown, while the vapid wit of a modern French novel is +extolled. They prefer the false glitter of Dumas and Balzac to the +sterling gold of Schiller and Herder; and even Leipsic and Waterloo have +not freed us from the slavish adulation of the conquered to the +conqueror.’ + +‘What would you have?’ said I. + +‘I would have Germany a nation once more--a nation whose limits should +reach from the Baltic to the Tyrol. Her language, her people, her +institutions entitle her to be such; and it is only when parcelled into +kingdoms and petty States, divided by the artful policy of foreign +powers, that our nationality pines and withers.’ + +‘I can easily conceive,’ said I, ‘that the Confederation of the Rhine +must have destroyed in a great measure the patriotic feeling of Western +Germany. The peasantry were sold as mercenaries; the nobles, little +better, took arms in a cause many of them hated and detested----’ + +‘I must stop you here,’ said he, with a smile; ‘not that you would or +could say that which should wound my feelings, but you might hurt your +own when you came to know that he to whom you are speaking served in +that army. Yes, sir, I was a soldier of Napoleon.’ + +Although nothing could be more unaffectedly easy than his manner as he +spoke, I feared I might already have said too much; indeed, I knew not +the exact expressions I had used, and there was a pause of some minutes, +broken at length by the colonel saying-- + +‘Let us walk towards the town; for if I mistake not they close the gates +of the Park at midnight, and I believe we are the only persons remaining +here now.’ + +Chattering of indifferent matters, we arrived at the hotel; and after +accepting an invitation to accompany the baron the next day to Wilhelms +Höhe, I wished him good-night and retired. + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. THE BARON’S STORY + +Every one knows how rapidly acquaintance ripens into intimacy when mere +accident throws two persons together in situations where they have no +other occupation than each other’s society; days do the work of years, +confidences spring up where mere ceremonies would have been interchanged +before, and in fact a freedom of thought and speech as great as we enjoy +in our oldest friendships. Such in less than a fortnight was the +relation between the baron and myself. We breakfasted together every +morning, and usually sallied forth afterwards into the country, +generally on horseback, and only came back to dinner--a ramble in the +Park concluding our day. + +I still look back to those days as amongst the pleasantest of my life; +for although the temper of my companion’s mind was melancholic, it +seemed rather the sadness induced by some event of his life than the +depression resulting from a desponding temperament--a great difference, +by the way; as great as between the shadow we see at noonday and the +uniform blackness of midnight. He had evidently seen much of the world, +and in the highest class; he spoke of Paris as he knew it in the +gorgeous time of the Empire--of the Tuileries, when the salons were +crowded with kings and sovereign princes; of Napoleon, too, as he saw +him, wet and cold, beside the bivouac fire, interchanging a rude jest +with some grognard of the Garde, or commanding, in tones of loud +superiority, the marshals who stood awaiting his orders. The Emperor, he +said, never liked the Germans; and although many evinced a warm +attachment to his person and his cause, they were not Frenchmen, and he +could not forgive it. The Alsatians he trusted, and was partial to; but +his sympathies stopped short at the Rhine; and he always felt that if +fortune turned, the wrongs of Germany must have their recompense. + +While speaking freely on these matters, I remarked that he studiously +avoided all mention of his own services--a mere passing mention of ‘I +was there,’ or, ‘My regiment was engaged in it,’ being the extent of his +observations regarding himself. His age and rank, his wound itself, +showed that he must have seen service in its most active times; and my +curiosity was piqued to learn something of his own history, but which I +did not feel myself entitled to inquire. + +We were returning one evening from a ramble in the country, when +stopping to ask a drink at a wayside inn, we found a party of soldiers +in possession of the only room, where they were regaling themselves with +wine; while a miserable-looking object, bound with his arms behind his +back, sat pale and woe-begone in one corner of the apartment, his eyes +fixed on the floor, and the tears slowly stealing along his cheeks. + +‘What is it?’ asked I of the landlord, as I peeped in at the half-open +door. + +‘A deserter, sir----‘’ + +The word was scarcely spoken when the colonel let fall the cup he held +in his hand, and leaned, almost fainting, against the wall. + +‘Let us move on,’ said he, in a voice scarcely articulate, while the +sickness of death seemed to work in his features. + +‘You are ill,’ said I; ‘we had better wait----’ + +‘No, not here--not here,’ repeated he anxiously; ‘in a moment I shall be +well again--lend me your arm.’ + +We walked on, at first slowly, for with each step he tottered like one +after weeks of illness; at last he rallied, and we reached Cassel in +about an hour’s time, during which he spoke but once or twice. ‘I must +bid you a good-night here,’ said he, as we entered the inn; ‘I feel but +poorly, and shall hasten to bed.’ So saying, and without waiting for a +word on my part, he squeezed my hand affectionately, and left me. + +It was not in my power to dismiss from my mind a number of gloomy +suspicions regarding the baron, as I slowly wended my way to my room. +The uppermost thought I had was, that some act of his past life--some +piece of military severity, for which he now grieved deeply--had been +brought back to his memory by the sight of the poor deserter. It was +evident that the settled melancholy of his character referred to some +circumstance or event of his life; nothing confirmed this more than any +chance allusions he would drop concerning his youthful days, which +appeared to be marked by high daring and buoyant spirits. + +While I pondered over these thoughts, a noise in the inn-yard beneath my +window attracted my attention. I leaned out, and heard the baron’s +servant giving orders for post-horses to be ready by daybreak to take +his master’s carriage to Meissner, while a courier was already preparing +to have horses in waiting at the stages along the road. Again my brain +was puzzled to account for this sudden departure, and I could not +repress a feeling of pique at his not having communicated his intention +of going, which, considering our late intimacy, had been only common +courtesy. This little slight--for such I felt it--did not put me in +better temper with my friend, nor more disposed to be lenient in judging +him; and I was already getting deeper and deeper in my suspicions, when +a gentle tap came to my door, and the baron’s servant entered, with a +request that I would kindly step over to his master, who desired to see +me particularly. I did not delay a moment, but followed the man along +the corridor, and entered the room, which I found in total darkness. + +‘The baron is in bed, sir,’ said the servant; ‘but he wishes to see you +in his room.’ + +On a small camp-bed, which showed it to have been once a piece of +military equipment, the Baron was lying. He had not undressed, but +merely thrown on his _robe de chambre_ and removed his cravat from his +throat; his one hand was pressed closely on his face, and as he +stretched it out to grasp mine, I was horror-struck at the altered +expression of his countenance. The eyes, bloodshot and wild, glanced +about the room with a hurried and searching look, while his parched lips +muttered rapidly some indistinct sounds. I saw that he was very ill, and +asked him if it were not as well he should have some advice. + +‘No, my friend, no,’ said he, with more composure in his manner; ‘the +attack is going off now. It rarely lasts so long as this. You have never +heard perhaps of that dreadful malady which physicians call “angina,” + the most agonising of all diseases, and I believe the least understood. +I have been subject to it for some years, and as there is no remedy, and +as any access of it may prove fatal, life is held on but poor +conditions----’ + +He paused for a second or two, then resumed, but with a manner of +increased excitement. + +‘They will shoot him! Yes, I have heard it all. It’s the second time he +has deserted; there is not a chance left him. I must leave this by +daybreak--I must get me far away before to-morrow evening; there would +not come a stir, the slightest sound, but I should fancy I heard the +fusilade.’ + +I saw now clearly that the deserter’s fate had made the impression which +brought on the attack; and although my curiosity to learn the origin of +so powerful a sensibility was greater than ever, I would willingly have +sacrificed it to calming his mind, and inducing thoughts of less violent +excitement. But he continued, speaking with a thick and hurried +utterance-- + +‘I was senior lieutenant of the Carabiniers de la Garde at eighteen. We +were quartered at Strasbourg; more than half of the regiment were my +countrymen, some from the very village where I was born. One there was, +a lad of sixteen, my schoolfellow and companion when a boy; he was the +only child of a widow whose husband had fallen in the wars of the +Revolution. When he was drawn in the conscription, no less than seven +others presented themselves to go in his stead; but old Girardon, who +commanded the brigade, simply returned for answer, “Such brave men are +worthy to serve France; let them all be enrolled,” and they were so. A +week afterwards Louis my schoolfellow deserted. He swam the Rhine at +Kehl, and the same evening reached his mother’s cottage. He was scarcely +an hour at home when a party of his own regiment captured him; he was +brought back to Strasbourg, tried by torchlight, and condemned to death. + +‘The officer who commanded the party for his execution fainted when the +prisoner was led out; the men, horror-struck at the circumstance, +grounded their arms and refused to fire. Girardon was on the ground in +an instant; he galloped up to the youth who knelt there with his arms +bound behind him, and drawing a pistol from his holster, placed the +muzzle on his forehead, and shot him dead! The men were sent back to the +barracks, and by a general order of the same day were drafted into +different regiments throughout the army; the officer was degraded to the +ranks--it was myself.’ + +It was with the greatest difficulty the colonel was enabled to conclude +this brief story; the sentences were uttered with short, almost +convulsive efforts, and when it was over he turned away his face, and +seemed buried in grief. + +‘You think,’ said he, turning round and taking my hand in his--‘you +think that the sad scene has left me such as you see me now. Would to +Heaven my memory were charged with but that mournful event! Alas! it is +not so.’ He wiped a tear from his eye, and with a faltering voice +continued. ‘You shall hear my story. I never breathed it to one living, +nor do I think now that my time is to be long here.’ + +Having fortified his nerves with a powerful opiate, the only remedy in +his dreadful malady, he began:-- + +‘I was reduced to the ranks in Strasbourg; four years after, day for +day, I was named Chef de Bataillon on the field of Elchingen. Of twelve +hundred men our battalion came out of action with one hundred and +eighty; the report of the corps that night was made by myself as senior +officer, and I was but a captain. + +‘“Who led the division of stormers along the covered way?” said the +Emperor, as I handed our list of killed and wounded to Duroc, who stood +beside him. + +‘“It was I, sire.” + +‘“You are major of the Seventh regiment,” said he. “Now, there is +another of yours I must ask for; how is he called that surprised the +Austrian battery on the Dorran Kopf?” + +‘“Himself again, sire,” interrupted Duroc, who saw that I hesitated how +to answer him. + +‘“Very well, very well indeed, Elgenheim; report him as Chef de +Bataillon, Duroc, and colonel of his regiment. There, sir, your +countrymen call me unjust and ungenerous. Show them your brevet to- +night, and do _you_, at least, be a witness in my favour.” + +‘I bowed and uttered a few words of gratitude, and was about to +withdraw, when Duroc, who had been whispering something in the Emperor’s +ear, said aloud, “I’m certain he’s the man to do it. Elgenheim, his +Majesty has a most important despatch to forward to Innspruck to Marshal +Ney. It will require something more than mere bravery to effect this +object--it will demand no small share of address also. The passes above +Saltzbourg are in the possession of the Tyrolese sharpshooters; two +vedettes have been cut off within a week, and it will require at least +the force of a regiment to push through. Are you willing to take the +command of such a party?” + +‘“If his Majesty will honour me with----” + +‘“Enough, sir,” interrupted the Emperor; “we have no time to lose here. +Your orders shall be ready by daybreak; you shall have a squadron of +Chasseurs, as scouts, and be prepared to march to-morrow.” + +‘The following day I left the camp with my party of eight hundred men, +and moved to the southward. It may seem strange to think of a simple +despatch of a few lines requiring such a force--indeed, I thought so at +the time; but I lived to see two thousand men employed on a similar +service in Spain, and, worse still, not always successfully. In less +than a week we approached Landherg, and entered the land of mountains. +The defiles, which at first were sufficiently open to afford space for +manouvres, gradually contracted; while the mountains at either side +became wilder and more lofty, a low brushwood of holly and white-oak +scarce hiding the dark granite rocks that seemed actually piled loosely +one above another, and ready to crash down at the least impulse. In the +valleys themselves the mountain rivulets were collected into a strong +current, which rattled along amid masses of huge rock, and swept in +broad flakes of foam sometimes across the narrow road beside it. Here, +frequently, not more than four men could march abreast; and as the +winding of the glens never permitted a view of much more than a mile in +advance, the position, in case of attack, was far from satisfactory. + +‘For three entire days we continued our march, adopting, as we went, +every precaution against surprise I could think of; a portion of the +cavalry were always employed as _éclaireurs_ in advance, and the +remainder brought up the rear, following the main body at the distance +of a mile or two. The stupendous crags that frowned above, leaving us +but a narrow streak of blue sky visible; the mournful echoes of the deep +valleys; the hoarse roar of the waters or the wild notes of the black +eagle--all conspired to throw an impression of sadness over our party, +which each struggled against in vain. It was now the third morning since +we entered the Tyrol, and yet never had we seen one single inhabitant. +The few cottages along the roadside were empty, the herds had +disappeared from the hills, and a dreary waste, unrelieved by one living +object, stretched far away before us. My men felt the solitude far more +deeply than if every step had been contested with them. They were long +inured to danger, and would willingly have encountered an enemy of +mortal mould; but the gloomy images their minds conjured up were foes +they had never anticipated nor met before. For my own part, the +desolation brought but one thought before me; and as I looked upon the +wild wastes of mountain, where the chalet of the hunter or the cot of +the shepherd reared its humble head, the fearful injustice of invasive +war came fully to my mind. Again and again did I ask myself what +greatness and power could gain by conflict with poverty like this? How +could the humble dweller in these lonely regions become an object of +kingly vengeance, or his bleak hills a thing for kingly ambition? And, +more than all, what could the Tyrol peasant ever have done thus to bring +down upon his home the devastating tide of war? To think that but a few +days back the cheerful song of the hunter resounded through those glens, +and the laugh of children was heard in those cottages where now all was +still as death. We passed a small cluster of houses at the opening of a +glen--it could scarce be called a village--and here, so lately had they +been deserted, the embers were yet warm on the hearth, and in one hut +the table was spread and the little meal laid out, while they who were +to have partaken of it were perhaps miles away. + +‘Plunged in these sad reflections, I sat on a little eminence of rock +behind the party, while they reposed themselves during the heat of noon. +The point I occupied afforded a view for some miles of the road we had +travelled, and I turned to see if our cavalry detachment was coming up; +when, as I strained my eyes in the direction, I thought I could perceive +an object moving along the road, and stooping from time to time. I +seized my glass, and now could distinctly perceive the figure of a man +coming slowly onwards. That we had not passed him on the way was quite +evident, and he must therefore have been on the mountain, or in +concealment beside the road. Either thought was sufficient to excite my +suspicion, and without a second’s delay I sprang into the saddle, and +putting my horse to his speed galloped back as fast as I could. As I +came nearer, I half fancied I saw the figure move to one side and then +back again, as though irresolute how to act; and fearing lest he should +escape me by taking to the mountain, I called to him aloud to halt. He +stood still as I spoke, and I now came up beside him. He was an old man, +seemingly over eighty years of age; his hair and beard were white as +snow, and he was bent almost double with time; his dress was the common +costume of a Tyrolese, except that he wore in addition a kind of cloak +with a loose hood, such as the pilgrims wear in Austria; and indeed his +staff and leathern bottle bespoke him such. To all my questions as to +the road and the villages he replied in a kind of patois I could make +nothing of, for although tolerably well versed in all the dialects of +Southern Germany, his was quite unintelligible to me. Still, the +question how he came there was one of great moment; if _he_ had been +concealed while we passed so near, why not others? His age and +decrepitude forbade the thought of his having descended the mountain, +and so I felt puzzled in no common degree. As these doubts passed +through my mind, the poor old man stood trembling at my side as though +fearing what fate might be in store for him. Anxious to recompense him +for the trouble I had caused him, I drew out my purse; but no sooner did +he see it than he motioned it away with his hand, and shook his head in +token of refusal. + +‘“Come, then,” said I, “I never met a pilgrim who would refuse a cup of +wine;” and with that I unslung my canteen and handed it to him. This he +seized eagerly and drained it to the bottom, holding up both hands when +he had finished, and muttering something I conjectured to be a prayer. +He was the only living object belonging to the country that I had seen; +a sudden whim seized me, and I gave him back the flask, making a sign +that he should keep it. He clutched the gift with the avidity of old +age, and sitting down upon a stone began to admire it with eager eyes. +Despairing of making him understand a word, and remembering it was time +to move forward, I waved my hand in adieu and galloped back. + +‘The cavalry detachment came up soon after; and guess my astonishment to +learn that they had not seen the old man on the road, nor, although they +narrowly watched the mountain, perceived any living thing near. I +confess I could not dismiss a feeling of uncomfortable suspicion from my +mind, and all the reflections I bestowed upon his age and decrepitude +were very far from reassuring me. More than once I regretted not having +brought him forward with us; but again the fact of having such a +prisoner would have exposed me to ridicule at headquarters, if not to a +heavy reprimand. + +‘Full of these reflections, I gave the word to move forward. Our object +was, if possible, to reach the opening of the Mittenwald before night, +where I was informed that a small dismantled fort would afford a secure +position if attacked by any mountain party. On comparing the route of +the map, however, with the road, I discovered that the real distances +were in many cases considerably greater than they were set down, and +perceived that with all our efforts we could not hope to emerge from the +ravine of the Schwartz-thal before the following day. This fact gave me +much uneasiness; for I remembered having heard that as the glen +approaches the Mittenwald, the pass is narrowed to a mere path, +obstructed at every step by masses of fallen rock, while the mountains, +more thickly covered with underwood, afford shelter for any party lying +in ambush. Nothing could be more fatal than an attack in such a +position, where a few determined men in front could arrest the march of +a whole regiment; while from the close sides of the pass, a well- +directed fire must sweep the ranks of those below. This gorge, which, +narrowing to a mere portal, has been called the Mitten-Thor, was the +scene of some fearful struggles between the French troops and the +Tyrolese, and was always believed to be the most dangerous of all the +passes of the Tyrol--every despatch to the headquarters of the army +referring to the disasters that befell there, and suggesting plans for +the occupation of the blockhouse near it, as a means of defence. + +‘By the advice of my officers, one of whom was already acquainted with +all the circumstances of the ground, I determined on halting at a part +of the glen about two miles from the Mitten-Thor, where a slight +widening of the valley afforded more space for movement if attacked; and +here we arrived as evening was beginning to fall. It was a small oval +spot between the mountains, through which a little stream ran, dividing +it almost into equal portions, and crossed by a bridge of rude planks, +to which a little path conducted, and led up the mountains. Scarcely +were our watch-fires lighted when the moon rose, and although herself +not visible to our eyes as we lay in the deep valley, a rich flood of +silver light fell on one range of the mountains, marking out every cliff +and crag with the distinctness of day. The opposite mountain, wrapped in +deepest shadow, was one mass of undistinguishable blackness, and seemed +to frown ominously and gloomily upon us. The men were wearied with a +long march, and soon lay down to rest beside their fires; and save the +low subdued hum of the little encampment, the valley was in perfect +silence. On the bridge, from which the pass was visible for a good +distance in both directions, I had placed a lookout sentry; and a chain +of patrols was established around the bivouac. + +‘These arrangements, which occupied me some time, being completed, I +threw myself down beside my fire, and prepared for sleep. But somehow, +though I had passed a day of fatigue and exertion, I could not slumber; +every time I closed my eyes the vision of the old pilgrim was before me, +and a vague, undefined feeling of apprehension hung over me. I tried to +believe it was a mere fancy, attributable to the place, of whose terrors +I had heard so much; but my mind dwelt on all the disasters of the +Schwartz-thal, and banished every desire for repose. + +As I lay there, thinking, my eyes were attracted by a little rocky +point, about thirty feet above me on the mountain, on which the full +splendour of the moonlight shone at intervals as the dark clouds drifted +from before her; and a notion took me--why and how I never could explain +to myself--to ascend the crag, and take a view down the valley. A few +minutes after, and I was seated on the rock, from which I could survey +the pass and the encampment stretched out beneath me. It was just such a +scene as Salvator used to paint--the wild fantastic mountains, bristling +with rude pines and fragments of granite; a rushing torrent, splashing +and boiling beneath; a blazing watch-fire, and the armed group around +it, their weapons glancing in the red light; while, to add to the mere +picture, there came the monotonous hum of the soldier’s song as he +walked to and fro upon his post. + +‘I sat a long while gazing at this scene, many a pleasant thought of +that bandit life we Germans feel such interest in, from Schiller’s play, +passing through my mind, when I heard the rustling of leaves, and a +crackling sound as of broken branches, issue from the mountain almost +directly above me. There was not a breath of wind nor a leaf stirring, +save there. I listened eagerly, and was almost certain I could hear the +sound of voices talking in a low undertone. Cautiously stealing along, I +began to descend the mountain, when, as I turned a projecting angle of +the path, I saw the sentry on the bridge with his musket at his +shoulder, taking a steady and deliberate aim at some object in the +direction of the noise. While I looked, he fired; a crashing sound of +the branches followed the report, and something like a cry, and as the +echoes died away in the distance a heavy mass tumbled over the cliff, +and fell from ledge to ledge till it rolled into the deep grass below. I +had but time to perceive it was the corpse of a man fully armed, when +the quick roll of the drum beat to arms. In an instant the men were +formed; the cavalry standing beside their horses, and the officers +crowding around me for orders. It was the discharge of the sentry’s +musket had given the alarm; for, save himself, no one had seen anything. + +‘Just then a wild unearthly cry of “Ha! ha!” rang out from one mountain +and was answered from the other; while the sounds, increasing and +multiplied by the echoes, floated hither and thither, as though ten +thousand voices were shouting there. They ceased; all was still for a +few seconds, and then a hailstorm of bullets tore through our ranks, and +the valley rang again with the roar of musketry. Every cliff and crag, +every tuft of brushwood, seemed to be occupied; while the incessant roll +of the fire showed that our assailants were in great numbers. Resistance +was vain; our enemy was unseen; our men were falling at each discharge; +what was to be done? Nothing remained but to push forward to the +Mittenwald, where, the valley opening into a plain, we should be able to +defend ourselves against any irregular troops that might be brought +against us. The order was given, and the men advanced in a run, the +cavalry leading the way. Meanwhile the fire of the Tyrolese increased, +and the fatal marksmen seldom missed a shot; two of our officers already +lay dead, and three others dangerously wounded could scarce keep up with +our party. + +‘“The road is barricaded and intrenched,” cried the sergeant of the +dragoons, galloping back to the main body in dismay. + +‘A cry broke from the soldiers as they heard the sad tidings, while some +springing from their ranks called out, “Forward, and to the storm!” + +‘Rushing to the head of these brave fellows, I waved my cap, and cheered +them on; the others followed, and we soon came in sight of the barrier, +which was formed of large trees thrown crossways, and forming, by their +massive trunks and interwoven branches, an obstacle far beyond our power +to remove. To climb the stockade was our only chance, and on we rushed; +but scarcely were we within half-musket-shot, when a volley met us +directed point-blank. The leading files of the column went down like one +man, and though others rushed eagerly forward, despair and desperation +goading them, the murderous fire of the long rifles dealt death at every +discharge; and we stood among the cumbered corpses of our fellow +comrades. By this time we were attacked in rear as well as front; and +now, all hope gone, it only remained to sell life as dearly as we could. +One infuriated rush to break through the barricade had forced a kind of +passage, through which, followed by a dozen others, I leaped, shouting +to my men to follow. The cry of my triumph was, however, met by a wilder +still, for the same instant a party of Tyrolese, armed with the two- +handed sword of their country, came down upon us. The struggle was a +brief and bloody one; man for man fell at either side, but overcome by +numbers I saw my companions drop dead or wounded around me. As for +myself, I clove the leader through the skull with one stroke. It was the +last my arm ever dealt; the next instant it was severed from my body. I +fell covered with blood, and my assailant jumped upon my body, and +drawing a short knife from his belt was about to plunge it in my bosom, +when a shout from a wounded Tyrolese at my side arrested the stroke, and +I saw an uplifted arm stretched out as if to protect me. I have little +memory after this. I heard--I think I hear still--the wild shouts and +the death-cries of my comrades as they fell beneath the arm of their +enemies. The slaughter was a dreadful one; of eight hundred and forty +men, I alone survived that terrible night. + +‘Towards daybreak I found myself lying in a cart upon some straw, beside +another wounded man dressed in the uniform of the Tyrolese Jagers. His +head was fearfully gashed by a sabre-cut, and a musket-ball had +shattered his forearm. As I looked at him, a grim smile of savage glee +lit up his pale features, and he looked from my wound to his own with a +horrid significance. All my efforts to learn the fate of my comrades +were fruitless; he could neither comprehend me nor I him, and it was +only by conjecturing from the tones and gestures of those who +occasionally came up to the cart to speak to him, that I could learn the +fearful reality. + +‘That day and the following one we journeyed onwards, but I knew naught +of time. The fever of my wound, increased by some styptic they had used +to stop the bleeding, had brought on delirium, and I raved of the fight, +and strove to regain my legs and get free. To this paroxysm, which +lasted many days, a low lingering fever succeeded, in which all +consciousness was so slight that no memory has remained to tell of my +sensations. + +‘My first vivid sensation--it is before me at this minute--was on +entering the little mountain village of the Marien Kreutz. I was borne +on a litter by four men, for the path was inaccessible except to foot +passengers. It was evening, and the long procession of the wounded men +wound its way up the mountain defile and along the little street of the +village, which now was crowded by the country-people, who with sad and +tearful faces stood looking on their sons and brothers, or asking for +those whom they were never to behold again. The little chapel of the +village was converted into a hospital, and here beds were brought from +every cabin, and all the preparations for tending the sick began with a +readiness that surprised me. + +‘As they bore me up the aisle of the chapel, a voice called out some +words in Tyrolese; the men halted and turned round, and then carried me +back into a small chapelry, where a single sick man was lying, whom in +an instant I recognised as my wounded companion of the road. With a nod +of rude but friendly recognition, he welcomed me, and I was placed near +him on a straw mattress stretched beneath the altar. + +‘Why I had been spared in the fearful carnage, and for what destiny I +was reserved, were thoughts which rapidly gave way to others of deep +despondency at my fortune--a despair that made me indifferent to life. +The dreadful issue of the expedition would, I well knew, have ruined +more prosperous careers than mine in that service, where want of success +was the greatest of all crimes. Careless of my fate, I lived on in +gloomy apathy, not one gleam of hope or comfort to shine upon the +darkness of my misery. + +‘This brooding melancholy took entire possession of me, and I took no +note of the scenes around me. My ear was long since accustomed to the +sad sounds of the sickbeds; the cries of suffering, and the low moanings +of misery had ceased to move me; even the wild and frantic ravings of +the wounded man near broke not in upon my musings, and I lived like one +immured within a solitary dungeon. + +‘I lay thus one night--my sadness and gloom weightier than ever on my +broken spirits--listening to the echoed sounds of suffering that rose +into the vaulted roof, and wishing for death to call me away from such a +scene of misery, when I heard the low chanting of a priest coming along +the aisle; and the moment after the footsteps of several persons came +near, and then two acolytes, carrying lighted tapers, appeared, followed +by a venerable man robed in white, and bearing in his hands a silver +chalice. Two other priests followed him, chanting the last service, and +behind all there came a female figure dressed in deep mourning; she was +tall and graceful-looking, and her step had the firm tread of youth, but +her head was bowed down with sorrow, and she held her veil pressed +closely over her face. They gathered round the bed of the wounded man, +and the priest took hold of his hand and lifted it slowly from the bed; +and letting it go, it fell heavily down again, with a dull sound. The +old man bent over the bed, touched the pale features, and gazed into the +eyes, and then with clasped hands he sank down on his knees and prayed +aloud; the others knelt beside him--all save one; she threw herself with +frantic grief upon the dead body (for he was dead) and wept +passionately. In vain they strove to calm her sorrow, or even withdraw +her from the spot. She clung madly to it, and would not be induced to +leave it. + +‘I think I see her still before me--her long hair, black as night, +streaming back from her pale forehead, and hanging down her shoulders; +her eyes fixed on the dead man’s face, and her hands pressed hard upon +her heart, as if to lull its agony. In all the wild transport of her +grief she was beautiful; for although pale to sickness, and worn with +watching, her large and lustrous eyes, her nose straight and finely +chiselled like the features of an antique cameo, and her mouth, where +mingled pride and sorrow trembled, gave her an expression of loveliness +I cannot convey. Such was she, as she watched beside her brother’s +death-bed day and night, silent and motionless; for as the first burst +of grief was over she seemed to nerve her courage to the task; and even +when the hour came, and they bore the body away to its last resting- +place, not a sigh or sob escaped her. + +‘The vacant spot--though it had been tenanted by suffering and misery-- +brought gloom to my heart. I had been accustomed each day to look for +him at sunrise, and each evening to see him as the light of day +declined; and I sorrowed like one deserted and alone. Not all alone! +for, as if by force of habit, when evening came, _she_ was at her place +near the altar. + +‘The fever, and my own anxious thoughts, preyed on my mind that night; +and as I lay awake I felt parched and hot, and wished to drink, and I +endeavoured with my only arm to reach the cup beside me. She saw the +effort, and sprang towards me at once; and as she held it to my lips, I +remembered then that often in the dreary nights of my sickness I had +seen her at my bedside, nursing me and tending me. I muttered a word of +gratitude in German, when she started suddenly, and stooping down, said +in a clear accent-- + +‘“Bist du ein Deutscher (Are you a German)?” + +‘“Yes,” said I, mournfully, for I saw her meaning. + +‘“Shame! shame!” cried she, holding up her hands in horror. “If the +wolves ravage the flocks it is but their nature; but that our own +kindred, our very flesh and blood, should do this----” + +‘I turned my head away in very sorrow and self-abasement, and a +convulsive sob burst from my heart. + +‘“Nay, nay, not so,” said she, “a poor peasant like me cannot judge what +motives may have influenced you and others like you; and after all,” and +she spoke the words in a trembling voice--“and after all, you succoured +_him_ when you believed him sick and weary.” + +‘“I! how so? It never was in my power----” + +‘“Yes, yes,” cried she, passionately; “it was you. This _gourde_ was +yours; he told me so; he spoke of you a hundred times.” And at the +instant, she held up the little flask I had given to the pilgrim in the +valley. + +‘“And was the pilgrim then----” + +‘“Yes,” said she, as a proud flash lit up her features, “he was my +brother; many a weary mile he wandered over mountain and moor to track +you; faint and hungry, he halted not, following your footsteps from the +first hour you entered our land. Think you but for him that you had been +spared that nights slaughter, or that for any cause but his a Tyrolese +girl had watched beside your sick-bed, and prayed for your recovery?” + +‘The whole truth now flashed upon me; every circumstance doubtful before +became at once clear to my mind, and I eagerly asked the fate of my +comrades. + +‘A gloomy shake of the head was the only reply. + +‘“All?” said I, trembling at the word. + +‘“All!” repeated she, in an accent whose pride seemed almost amounting +to ferocity. + +‘“Would I had perished with them!” cried I, in the bitterness of my +heart, and I turned my face away and gave myself up to my grief. + +‘As if sorry for the burst of feeling she had caused me, she sat down +beside my bed, took my hand in hers, and placed her cold lips upon it, +while she murmured some words of comfort. Like water to the seared, +parched lips of some traveller in the desert, the accents fell upon my +almost broken heart, suggesting a thought of hope where, all was +darkness and despair, I listened to each word with a tremulous fear lest +she should cease to speak, and dreading that my ecstasy were but a +dream. From that hour, I wished to live; a changed spirit came over me, +and I felt as though with higher and more ennobling thoughts I should +once more tread the earth. Yes, from the humble lips of a peasant girl I +learned to feel that the path I once deemed the only road to heroism and +high ambition could be but “the bandit’s trade,” who sells his blood for +gain. That war which animated by high-souled patriotism can call forth +every sentiment of a great and generous nature, becomes in an unjust +cause the lowest slavery and degradation. Lydchen seldom quitted my +bedside, for my malady took many turns, and it was long--many months-- +after that I was enabled to leave my bed and move up and down the +chapel. + +‘Meanwhile the successes of our army had gradually reduced the whole +country beneath French rule, and except in the very fastnesses of the +mountains the Tyrolese had nowhere they could call their own. Each day +some peasant would arrive from the valleys with information that fresh +troops were pouring in from Germany, and the hopes of the patriotic +party fell lower and lower. At last one evening as I sat on the steps of +the little altar, listening to Lydchen reading for me some Tyrol legend, +a wild shout in the street of the village attracted our notice, which +seemed to gain strength as it came nearer. She started up suddenly, and +throwing down her book rushed from the chapel. In another moment she was +back beside me, her face pale as a corpse, and her limbs trembling with +fear. + +‘“What has happened? Speak, for God’s sake! what is it?” said I. + +‘“The French have shot the prisoners in the Platz at Innspruck! twenty- +eight have fallen this morning,” cried she, “seven from this very +village; and now they cry aloud for your blood; hear them, there!” + +‘And as she spoke a frightful yell hurst from the crowd without, and +already they stood at the entrance to the chapel, which even at such a +time they had not forgotten was a sanctuary. The very wounded men sat up +in their beds and joined their feeble cries to those without, and the +terrible shout of “blood for blood!” rang through the vaulted roof. + +‘“I am ready,” said I, springing up from the low step of the altar. +“They must not desecrate this holy spot with such a crime. I am ready to +go where you will.” + +‘“No, no,” cried Lydchen; “you are not like our enemies. You wish us +naught of evil; your heart is with the struggle of a brave people, who +fight but for their homes and Fatherland. Be of us, then; declare that +you are with us. Oh, do this, and these will be your brothers and I your +sister; ay, more than sister ever was.” + +‘“It cannot be; no, never,” said I; “it is not when life is in the +balance that fealty can change.” + +‘With difficulty I freed myself from the clasp of her arms, for in her +grief she had thrown herself at my feet, when suddenly we heard the deep +accents of the aged priest, as he stood upon the steps of the altar, and +commanded silence. His tones were those of severity and sternness, and I +could mark that not a murmur was raised as he continued. + +‘“You are safe,” whispered Lydchen; “till to-morrow you are safe; before +that you must be far away.” + +‘The respite of the priest was merely to give me time to prepare for +death, which it was decreed I should suffer the following morning in the +Platz of the village. + +‘Scarcely had evening begun to fall when Lydchen approached my bed and +deposited a small bundle upon it, whispering gently, “Lose no time; put +on these clothes, and wait for my return.” + +‘The little chapelry where I lay communicated by a small door with the +dwelling of the priest, and by her passing through this I saw that the +father was himself conniving at the plan of my escape. By the imperfect +glimmer of the fading day I could perceive that they were her brother’s +clothes she had brought me; the jacket was yet stained with his blood. I +was long in equipping myself, with my single arm, and I heard her voice +more than once calling to me to hasten, ere I was ready. + +‘At length I arose, and passing through the door entered the priest’s +house, where Lydchen, dressed in hat and mantle, stood ready for the +road. As I endeavoured to remonstrate she pressed her hand on my mouth, +and walking on tiptoe led me forward; we emerged into a little garden, +crossing which she opened a wicket that led into the road. There a +peasant was in waiting, who carried a small bundle on his shoulder, and +was armed with the long staff used in mountain travelling. Again, making +a sign for me to be silent, she moved on before me, and soon turning off +the road entered a foot-track in the mountain. The fresh breeze of the +night and the sense of liberty nerved me to exertion, and I walked on +till day was breaking. Our path generally lay in a descending direction, +and I felt little fatigue, when at sunrise Lydchen told me that we might +rest for some hours, as our guide could now detect the approach of any +party for miles round, and provide for our concealment. No pursuit, +however, was undertaken in that direction, the peasants in all +likelihood deeming that I would turn my steps towards Lahn, where a +strong French garrison was stationed; whereas we were proceeding in the +direction of Saltzbourg, the very longest and therefore the least likely +route through the Tyrol. + +‘Day succeeded day, and on we went. Not one living thing did we meet on +our lonely path. Already our little stock of provisions was falling low, +when we came in sight of the hamlet of Altendorf, only a single day’s +march from the lake of Saltzbourg. The village, though high in the +mountain, lay exactly beneath us as we went, and from the height we +stood on we could see the little streets of the town and its market- +place like a map below us. Scarcely had the guide thrown his eyes +downwards than he stopped short, and pointing to the town, cried out +“The French! the French!” and true enough, a large party of infantry +were bivouacked in the streets, and several horses were picketed in the +gardens about. While the peasant crept cautiously forward to inspect the +place nearer, I stood beside Lydchen, who, with her hands pressed +closely on her face, spoke not a word. + +‘“We part here!” said she, with a strong, full accent, as though +determined to let no weakness appear in her words. + +‘“Part, Lydchen!” cried I, in an agony; for up to that moment I believed +that she never intended returning to the Tyrol. + +‘“Yes. Thinkest thou that I hold so light my home and country as thou +dost? Didst thou believe that a Tyrol girl would live ‘midst those who +laid waste her Fatherland, and left herself an orphan, without one of +her kindred remaining?” + +‘“Are there no ties save those of blood, Lydchen? Is your heart so +steeled against the stranger that the devotion, the worship, of a life +long would not move you from your purpose?” + +‘“Thou hast refused me once,” said she proudly; “I offered to be all +your own when thou couldst have made me so with honour. If thou wert the +Kaiser Franz, I would not have thee now.” + +‘“Oh, speak not thus, Lydchen, to him whose life you saved, and made him +feel that life is a blessing! Remember that if _your_ heart be cold to +me, you have made _mine_ your own for ever. I will not leave you. No---- +“ + +‘“Is it that thou mayst bring me yonder and show me amongst thy +comrades--the Tyrol maiden that thou hast captured, thy spoil of war?” + +‘“Oh, Lydchen, dearest, why will you speak thus----” + +‘“Never!” cried she, as her eyes flashed proudly, and her cheek flushed +red, “never! I have the blood of Hofer in my veins; and bethinkest thou +I would stoop to be a jest, a mockery, before thy high-born dames, who +would not deem me fit to be their waiting-woman? Farewell, sir. I hoped +to part with thee less in anger than in sorrow.” + +‘“Then I will remain,” said I. + +‘“Too late, too late!” cried she, waving her hand mournfully; “the hour +is past. See, there come your troops; a moment more, and I shall be +taken. You wish not this, at least----” + +‘As she spoke, a cavalry detachment was seen coming up the valley at a +canter. A few minutes more and she would be discovered. I knew too well +the ruffian natures of the soldiery to hazard such a risk. I caught her +to my arms with one last embrace, and the next moment dashed down the +path towards the dragoons. I turned my head once, but she was gone; the +peasant guide had left the breach of the chasm, and they both were lost +to my view. + +‘My story is now soon told. I was tried by a court-martial, honourably +acquitted, and restored to my grade--_en retraite_, however, for my +wound had disabled me from active service. For three years I lived in +retirement near Mayence, the sad memory of one unhappy event embittering +every hour of my life. + +‘In the early part of 1809 a strong division of the French army, +commanded by my old friend and companion Lefebvre, entered Mayence, on +their way to Austria; and as my health was now restored, I yielded to +his persuasion to join his staff as first aide-de-camp. Indeed, a +carelessness and indifference to my fortune had made me submit to +anything, and I assented to every arrangement of the general, as if I +were totally unconcerned in it all. I need not trace the events of that +rapid and brilliant campaign. I will only remark that Eckmühl and +Ratisbon both brought back all the soldier’s ardour to my heart; and +once more the crash of battle, and the din of marching columns, aroused +my dormant enthusiasm. + +‘In the month of April, a _corps d’armée_ of twenty thousand men entered +the Tyrol, and pushed forward to the Niederwald, where Lefebvre had his +headquarters. I cannot stay to speak of the terrible scenes of that +period, the most fearful in the spirit of resistance that ever our arms +encountered. Detachments were cut off every day; whole columns +disappeared, and never again were heard of; no bivouac was safe from a +nightly attack, and even the sentinels at the gates of Innspruck were +repeatedly found dead on their posts. But, worse than all, daily +instances occurred of assassination by peasants, who sometimes dressed +as sutlers entered the camp, and took the opportunity to stab or shoot +our officers, caring nothing, as it seemed, for the certain death that +awaited them. These became of such frequent occurrence that scarce a +report did not contain one or two such casualties, and consequently +every precaution that could be thought of was adopted; and every peasant +taken with arms--in a country, too, where none are unarmed--was shot +without trial of any kind whatever. That little mercy, or indeed +justice, was meted out to the people, I need only say that Girardon was +commandant of the garrison, and daily inspected the executions on +parade. + +‘It happened that one morning this savage old officer was stabbed by an +Austrian peasant, who had long been employed as a camp servant and +trusted in situations of considerable confidence. The man was +immediately led out for execution to the Platz, where was another +prisoner,--a poor boy found rambling within the lines, and unable to +give any account of his presence there. Girardon, however, was only +slightly wounded, and countermanded the the execution of his assassin, +not from motives of forgiveness, but in order to defer it till he was +himself able to be present and witness it. And upon me, as next in +command, devolved the melancholy duty of being present on the parade. +The brief note I received from Girardon, reminded me of a former +instance of weakness on my part, and contained a sneering hope that I +‘had learned some portion of a soldier’s duty, since I was reduced to +the ranks at Strasbourg.’ + +“When I reached the Platz, I found the officers of the Staff in the +middle of the square, where a table was placed, on which the order for +the execution was lying, awaiting my signature. + +“‘The prisoner begs a word with the officer in command,’ said the +orderly serjeant. + +“‘I cannot accede to his request.’ said I, trembling from head to foot, +and knowing how totally such an interview would unman me. + +“‘He implores it, sir, with the utmost earnestness, and says he has some +important secret to reveal before his death.’ + +“‘The old story--anything for five minutes more of life and sun-shine,’ +said an officer beside me. + +“‘I must refuse.’ said I, ‘and desire that these requests may not be +brought before me.’ + +“‘It is the only way, Colonel.’ said another; ‘and indeed such intervals +have little mercy in them; both parties suffer the more from them.’ + +“This speech seemed to warrant my selfish determination, and I seized +the pen, and wrote my name to the order; and then handing it to the +officer, covered my face with my hands, and sat with my head leaning on +the table. + +“A bustle in front, and a wild cry of agony, told me that the +preparations were begun, and quick as lightning, the roar of a platoon +fire followed. A shriek, shrill and piercing, mingled with the crash, +and then came a cry from the soldiers, ‘It is a woman!’ + +“‘With madness in my brain, and a vague dread--I know not of what--I +dashed forward through the crowd, and there, on the pavement, weltering +in her blood, lay the body of Lydchen: she was stone dead, her bosom +shattered by a dozen bullets. + +“I fell upon the corpse, the blood poured from my mouth in torrents; and +when I arose, it was with a broken heart, whose sufferings are bringing +me to the grave.” + +This sad story I have related without any endeavour to convey to my +reader, either the tone of him who told it, or the dreadful conflict of +feeling, which at many times prevented his continuing. In some few +places the very words he made use of were those I have employed, since +they have remained fast rooted in my memory, and were associated with +the facts themselves. Except in these slight particulars, I have told +the tale as it lives in my recollection, coupled with one of the saddest +nights I ever remember. + +It was near morning when he concluded, tired and exhausted, yet to all +appearance calmer and more tranquil from the free current of that sorrow +he could not longer control. + +“Leave me now,” said he, “for a few hours; my servant shall call you +before I go.” + +It was to no purpose that I offered to accompany him, alleging--as with +an easy conscience I could do--that no one was less bound by any ties of +place or time. He refused my offer of companionship, by saying, that +strict solitude alone restored him after one of his attacks, and that +the least excitement invariably brought on a relapse. “We shall soon +meet again, I hope,” was the extent of promise I could obtain from him; +and I saw that to press the matter further was both unfair and +indelicate. + +Though I lay down in bed I could not sleep; a strange feeling of dread, +an anxious fear of something undefined, was over me; and at every noise +I arose and looked out of the window, and down the streets, which were +all still and silent. The terrible events of the tale were like a +nightmare on my mind, and I could not dismiss them. At last I fell into +a half slumber, from which I was awakened by the Baron’s servant. His +master was dangerously ill; another attack had seized him, and he was +lying senseless. I hastened to the room, where I found the sick man +stretched half dressed upon the bed, his face purple, and his eyeballs +strained to bursting; his breathing was heavy, and broken by a low, +tremulous quaver, that made each respiration like a half-suppressed +sigh. While I opened the window to give him air, and bathed his forehead +with cold water, I dispatched a servant for a doctor. + +The physician was soon beside me; but I quickly saw that the case was +almost hopeless. His former disease had developed a new and, if +possible, worse one--aneurism of the heart. + +I will not speak of the hourly vacillations of hope and fear in which I +passed that day and the following one. He had never regained +consciousness; but the most threatening symptoms had considerably +abated, and, in the physician’s eyes, he was better. On the afternoon of +the third day, as I sat beside his bed, sleep overtook me in my +watching, and I awoke feeling a hand within my own: it was Elgenheim’s. + +Overjoyed at this sign of returning health, I asked him how he felt. A +faint sigh, and a motion of his hand towards his side, was all his +reply. Not daring to speak more, I drew the curtain, and sat still and +silent at his side. The window, by the physician’s order, was left open, +and a gentle breeze stirred the curtains lightly, and gave a refreshing +air within the apartment. A noise of feet, and a hurried movement in the +street, induced me to look out, and I now saw the head of an infantry +battalion turning into the Platz. They marched in slow time, and with +arms reversed. With a throb of horror, I remembered the deserter! Yes, +there he was! He marched between two dismounted gendarmes, without coat +or cap; a broad placard fixed on his breast, inscribed with his name and +his crime. I turned instantly towards the bed, dreading lest already the +tramp of the marching men had reached the sick man’s ear, but he was +sleeping calmly, and breathing without effort of any kind. + +The thought seized me, to speak to the officer in command of the party, +and I rushed down, and making my way through the crowd, approached the +staff, as they were standing in the middle of the Platz. But my excited +manner, my look of wild anxiety, and my little knowledge of the +language, combined to make my appeal of little moment. + +“If it be true, sir,” said a gruff old veteran, with a grisly beard, +“that he was an Officer of the Empire, the fire of a platoon can +scarcely hurt his nerves.” + +“Yes, but,” said I, “there is a circumstance of his life which makes +this ten-fold more dangerous--I cannot explain it--I am not at liberty-- +“ + +“I do not desire to learn your secrets, sir,” replied the old man +rudely; “stand back, and suffer me to do my duty.” + +I turned to the others, but they could give me neither advice nor +assistance, and already the square was lined with soldiers, and the men +of the “death party” were ordered to stand out. + +“Give me at least time enough to move my friend to a distant chamber, if +you will not do more,” said I, driven to madness; but no attention was +paid to my words, and the muster roll continued to be read out. + +I rushed back to the inn, and up the stairs; but what was my horror to +hear the sound of voices, and the tramp of feet, in the sick room I had +left in silence. As I entered, I saw the landlord and the servant, +assisted by the doctor, endeavouring to hold down the Baron on his bed, +who with almost superhuman strength, pushed them from him in his efforts +to rise. His features were wild to insanity, and the restless darting of +his glistening eye, showed that he was under the excitement of delirium. + +“The effort may kill him,” whispered the doctor in my ear; “this +struggle may be his death.” + +“Leave me free, sir!” shouted the sick man. “Who dares to lay hands on +me--stand aside there--the peloton will take ground to the right,” + continued he, raising his voice as if commanding on parade; “Ground +arms!” + +Just at this instant, the heavy clank of the firelocks was heard +without, as though in obedience to his word. “Hark!” said he, raising +his hand--“Not a word--silence in the ranks.” And in the deadly +stillness we could now hear the sentence of death, as it was read aloud +by the Adjutant. A hoarse roll of the drum followed, and then, the tramp +of the party as they led forward the prisoner, to every step of which +the sick man kept time with his hand. + +We did not dare to move--we knew not at what instant our resistance +might be his death. + +“Shoulder arms!” shouted out the officer from the Platz. + +“Take the orders from _me_,” cried Elgenheim wildly. “This duty is mine- +-no man shall say I shrunk from it.” + +“Present arms--Fire----” + +“Fire!” shouted Elgenheim, with a yell that rose above the roll of +musketry; and then with a groan of agony, he cried out, “There--there-- +it’s over now!” and fell back, dead, into our arms. + +***** ***** + +Thus died the leader of the stormers at Elchingen,--the man who carried +the Hill of Asperne against an Austrian battery. He sleeps now in the +little churchyard of the “Marien Hülfe” at Cassel. + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. THE WARTBURG AND EISENACH. + +I left Cassel with a heart far heavier than I had brought into it some +weeks before. The poor fellow, whose remains I followed to the grave, +was ever in my thoughts, and all our pleasant rambles and our familiar +intercourse, were now shadowed over by the gloom of his sad destiny. So +must it ever be. He who seeks the happiness of his life upon the world’s +highways, must learn to carry, as best he may, the weary load of trouble +that “flesh is heir to.” There must be storm for sunshine; and for the +bright days and warm airs of summer, he must feel the lowering skies and +cutting winds of winter. + +I set out on foot, muttering as I went, the lines of poor Marguerite’s +song, which my own depression had brought to memory. + + +“Mein Ruh ist hin. Mein Hers ist schwer; Ich finde sie nimmer--und, +nimmer mehr.” + +The words recalled the Faust--the Faust, the Brocken, and so I thought I +could not do better than set out thither. I was already within three +days’ march of the Hartz, and besides, I should like to see Göttingen +once more, and have a peep at my old friends there. + +It was only as I reached Münden to breakfast, that I remembered it was +Sunday, and so when I had finished my meal, I joined my host and his +household to church. What a simplicity is there in the whole +Protestantism of Germany--how striking is the contrast between the +unpretending features of the Reformed, and the gorgeous splendour of the +Roman Catholic Church. The benches of oak, on which were seated the +congregation, made no distinctions of class and rank. The little village +authorities were mingled with the mere peasants--the Pastor’s family sat +nearest to the reading-desk--that, was the only place distinguished from +the others. The building, like most of its era, was plain and un- +ornamented--some passages from Scripture were written on the walls, in +different places, but these were its only decoration. As I sat, awaiting +the commencement of the service, I could not avoid being struck by the +marked difference of feature, observable in Protestant, from what we see +in Roman Catholic communities--not depending upon nationality, for +Germany itself is an illustration in point. The gorgeous ceremonial of +the Romish Church--its venerable architecture--its prestige of +antiquity--its pealing organ, and its incense--all contribute to a +certain exaltation of mind, a fervour of sentiment, that may readily be +mistaken for true religious feeling. These things, connected and bound +up with the most awful and impressive thoughts the mind of man is +capable of, cannot fail to impress upon the features of the worshippers, +an expression of profound, heartfelt adoration, which poetizes the most +commonplace, and elevates the tone of even the most vulgar faces. Retsch +had not to go far for those figures of intense devotional character his +works abound in--every chapel contained innumerable studies for his +pencil. The features of the Protestant worshippers were calm, even to +sternness--the eyes, not bent upon some great picture, or some holy +relic, with wondering admiration, were downcast in meditation deep, or +raised to heaven with thoughts already there. There was a holy and a +solemn awe in every face, as though in the presence of _Him_, and in +_His_ Temple, the passions and warm feelings of man were an unclean +offering; that to understand His truths, and to apply His counsels, a +pure heart and a clear understanding were necessary--and these they +brought. To look on their cold and stedfast faces, you would say that +Luther’s own spirit--his very temperament, had descended to his +followers. There was the same energy of character--the indomitable +courage--the perseverance, no obstacle could thwart--the determination, +no opposition could shake. The massive head, square and strong--the +broad, bold forehead--the full eye--the wide nostril, and the thick lip- +-at once the indication of energy, of passion, and of power, are seen +throughout Saxony as the types of national features. + +The service of the Lutheran church is most simple, and like that of our +Presbyterians at home, consists in a hymn, a portion of Scripture read +out, and--what is considered the greatest point of all--a sermon, half +prayer, half dissertation, which concludes the whole. Even when the +Pastors are eloquent men, which they rarely are, I doubt much if German +be a language well suited for pulpit oratory. There is an eternal +involution of phrase, a complexity in the expression of even simple +matters, which would for ever prevent those bold imaginative flights by +which Bossuet and Massillon appealed to the hearts and minds of their +hearers. Were a German to attempt this, his mysticism--the “maladie du +pays”--would at once interfere, and render him unintelligible. The +pulpit eloquence of Germany, so far as I have experience of it, more +closely resembles the style of the preachers of the seventeenth century, +when familiar illustrations were employed to convey such truths as rose +above the humble level of ordinary intellects; having much of the +grotesque quaintness our own Latimer possessed, without, unhappily, the +warm glow of his rich imagination, or the brilliant splendour of his +descriptive talent. Still the forcible earnestness, and the strong +energy of conviction, are to be found in the German pulpit, and these +also may be the heirlooms of “the Doctor.” as the Saxons love to call +the great reformer. + +Some thoughts like these suggested a visit to the Wartburg, the scene of +Luther’s captivity--for such, although devised with friendly intent, his +residence there was; and so abandoning the Brocken, for the “nonce,” I +started for Eisenach. + +As you approach the town of Eisenach--for I’m not going to weary you +with the whole road,--you come upon a little glen in the forest, the +“Thuringer Wald,” where the road is completely overshadowed, and even at +noonday, is almost like night. A little well, bubbling in a basin of +rock, stands at the road-side, where an iron ladle, chained to the +stone, and a rude bench, proclaim that so much of thought has been +bestowed on the wayfarer. As you rest from the heat and fatigue of the +day, upon that humble seat, you may not know that Martin Luther himself +sat on that very bench, tired and wayworn, as he came back from Worms, +where, braving the power of king and kaiser, he had gone manfully to +defend his opinions, and assert the doctrines of the Reformation. + +It was there he lay down to sleep--a sleep I would dare to say; not the +less tranquil, because the excommunication of Rome had been fulminated +over his head. He was alone. He had refused every offer of +companionship, which zeal for the cause and personal friendship had +prompted, when suddenly he was aroused by the tramp of armed men, and +the heavy clattering of horses, coming up the glen. He knew his life was +sought for by his enemies, and what a grateful deed his assassination +would be to record within the halls of many a kingly palace. In an +instant, he was on his legs, and grasping his trusty broad-sword, he +awaited the attack. Not too soon, however, for scarcely had the horsemen +come within sight, than, putting spurs to their steeds, they bore down +upon him; then checking their horses suddenly, the leader called aloud +to him, to surrender himself his prisoner. + +Good Martin’s reply was a stroke of his broad-sword that brought the +summoner from his saddle to the ground. Parley was at an end now, and +they rushed on him at once. Still, it was clear that their wish was not +to kill him, which from their numbers and superior equipment, could not +have been difficult. But Luther’s love of liberty was as great as his +love of life, and he laid about him like one who would sell either as +dearly as he could. At length, pressed by his enemies on every side, his +sword broke near the hut, he threw the useless fragment from his hand, +and called out, “Ich kann nicht mehr!”--“I can do no more!” + +He was now bound with cords, and his eyes bandaged, conveyed to the +castle of the Wartburg, about two miles distant, nor did he know for +several days after, that the whole was a device of his friend and +protector, the Elector of Saxony, who wished to give currency to the +story, that Luther’s capture was a real one, and the Wartburg his +prison, and not, as it really proved, his asylum. Here he spent nearly a +year, occupied in the translation of the Bible, and occasionally +preaching in the small chapel of the “Schloss.” His strange fancies of +combats with the evil one, are among the traditions of the place, and +the torn plaster of the wall is pointed out as the spot where he hurled +his inkstand at the fiend, who tormented him in the shape of a large +blue-bottle fly. + +One cannot see, unmoved, that rude chamber, with its simple furniture of +massive oak, where the great monk meditated those tremendous truths that +were to shake thrones and dynasties, and awake the world from the +charmed sleep of superstition, in which, for centuries, it lay buried. + +The force of his strong nature, his enthusiasm, and a kind of savage +energy he possessed, frequently overbalanced his reason, and he gave way +to wild rantings and ravings, which often followed on the longest +efforts of his mental labour, and seemed like the outpourings of an +overcharged intellect. The zeal with which he prosecuted his great task, +was something almost miraculous--often for thirty, or even forty, hours, +did he remain at the desk without food or rest, and then such was his +exhaustion, bodily as well as mental, that he would fall senseless on +the floor, and it required all the exertions of those about him to rally +him from these attacks. His first sensations on recovering, were ever +those of a deadly struggle with the evil one, by whose agency alone he +believed his great work was interrupted; and then the scene which +succeeded would display all the fearful workings of his diseased +imagination. From these paroxysms, nothing seemed to awake him so +readily, as the presence of his friend Melancthon, whose mild nature and +angelic temperament were the exact opposites of his bold, impetuous +character. The sound of his voice alone would frequently calm him in his +wildest moments, and when the torrent of his thought ran onward with mad +speed, and shapes and images flitted before his disordered brain, and +earthly combats were mingled in his mind with more dreadful conflicts, +and that he burst forth into the violent excesses of his passion--then, +the soft breathings of Melancthon’s flute, would still the storm, and +lay the troubled waters of his soul--that rugged nature would yield even +to tears, and like a child, he would weep till slumber closed his eyes. + +I lingered the entire day in the Wartburg--sometimes in the Rittersaal, +where suits of ancient and most curious armour are preserved; sometimes +in the chapel, where the rude desk is shown at which Luther lectured to +the household of the “Schloss.” Here, too, is a portrait of him, which +is alleged to be authentic. The features are such as we see in all his +pictures; the only difference I could perceive, was, that he is +represented with a moustache, which gives, what a Frenchman near me +called an “air brigand” to the stern massiveness of his features. This +circumstance, slight as it is, rather corroborates the authenticity of +the painting, for it is well known that during his residence at the +Wartburg, he wore his beard in this fashion, and to many retainers of +the castle, passed for a Ritter, or a knight confined for some crime +against the state. + +With a farewell look at the old chamber, where stands his oaken chair +and table, I left the Schloss, and as night was falling descended +towards Eisenach--for a description of whose water-mills and windmills, +whose cloth factories and toy shops, I refer you to various and several +guide books--only begging to say, on my own account, that the “Reuten +Kranta” is a seemly inn, and the host a pleasant German of the old +school; that is, in other words, one whose present life is always about +twenty years in advance of his thoughts, and who, while he eats and +drinks in the now century, thinks and feels with that which is gone. The +latest event of which he had any cognizance, was the retreat from +Leipsic, when the French poured through the village for five days +without ceasing. All the great features of that memorable retreat, +however, were absorbed in his mind, by an incident which occurred to +himself, and at which, by the gravity of his manner in relating it, I +could not help laughing heartily. + +When the commissariat arrived at Eisenach, to make arrangement for the +troops on their march, they allowed the inhabitants the option--a +pleasant one--of converting the billets, imposed upon them, for a +certain sum of money, in virtue of which, they obtained an exemption +from all intrusion on the part of men and officers, save those of the +rank of colonel and upwards; and in evidence, a great placard was +affixed to their door, setting forth the same, as a “general order,” Now +as it was agreed that only one officer should be accommodated at a time, +the privilege was worth paying for, particularly by our host of the “Rue +Garland,” whose larder was always stored with delicacies, and whose +cellar was famed for thirty miles round. He accordingly counted down his +reichs-thalers, gulden, and groschen--with a heavy heart it is true, but +to avert a heavier evil, and with his grand patent of immunity, hung out +upon his sign post, he gave himself no farther trouble about the war or +its chances. On the third evening of the retreat, however, a regiment of +the Chasseurs de la Garde, conspicuous by their green coats and white +facings, the invariable costume of the Emperor himself, entered the +town, and bivouacked in the little square. The colonel, a handsome +fellow of about five-and-thirty, or forty, looked about him sharply for +a moment or two, irresolute where he should fix his resting-place; when +a savoury odour of sausages frying in the “Reuten Krantz,” quickly +decided his choice. He entered at once, and making his bow to mine host, +with that admirable mixture of deference and command a Frenchman can +always assume, ordered his dinner to be got ready, and a bed prepared +for him. + +It was well worth the host’s while to stand on good terms with the +officers of rank, who could repress, or wink, at the liberties of the +men, as occasion served, and so the “Rue Garland” did its utmost that +day to surpass itself. + +“Je dois vous prévenir,” said the colonel, laughing as he strolled from +the door, after giving his directions, “Je dois vous prévenir, que je +mange bien, et beaucoup.” + +“Monsieur shall be content,” said the host, with a tap on his own +stomach, as though to say,--“The nourishment that has sufficed for this, +may well content such a carcass as thine--” + +“And as for wine--continued the colonel. + +“Zum kissen!” cried the host, with a smack of his lips, that could be +heard over the whole Platz, and which made a poor captain’s mouth water, +who guessed the allusion. + +I shall not detail for my reader, though I most certainly heard myself +the long bill of fare, by which the Rue Branch intended to astonish the +weak nerves of the Frenchman, little suspecting, at the time, how mutual +the surprise was destined to be. I remember there was “fleisch” and +“braten” without end, and baked pike, and sausages, and boar’s head, and +eels, and potted mackerel, and brawn, and partridges; not to speak of +all the roots that ever gave indigestion since the flood, besides +sweetmeats and puddings, for whose genera and species it would take +Buffon and Cuvier to invent a classification. As I heard the formidable +enumeration, I could not help expressing my surprise at the extent of +preparations, so manifestly disproportionate to the amount of the +company; but the host soon satisfied me on this head, by saying, “that +they were obliged to have an immense supply of cold viands always ready +to sell to the other officers throughout the town, whom,” he added in a +sly whisper, “they soon contrived to make pay for the heavy ransom +imposed on themselves.” The display, therefore, which did such credit to +his hospitality, was made with little prospect of injuring his pocket--a +pleasant secret, if it only were practicable. + +The hour of dinner arrived at last, and the Colonel, punctual to the +moment, entered the salon, which looked out by a window on the Platz--a +strange contrast, to be sure, for his eyes; the great side-board loaded +with luscious fare, and covered by an atmosphere of savoury smoke; and +the meagre bivouack without, where groups of officers sat, eating their +simple rations, and passing their goblets of washy beer from hand to +hand. + +Rouchefoucauld says, “There is always something pleasant in the +misfortunes of our best friends;” and as I suppose he knew his +countrymen, I conclude that the Colonel arranged his napkin on his knee +with a high sense of enjoyment for the little panorama which met his +eyes on the Platz. + +It must certainly have been a goodly sight, and somewhat of a surprise +besides, for an old campaigner to see the table groaning under its +display of good things; amid which, like Lombardy poplars in a Flemish +landscape, the tall and taper necks of various flasks shot up--some +frosted with an icy crest, some cobwebbed with the touch of time. + +Ladling the potage from a great silver tureen of antique mould, the host +stood beside the Colonel’s chair, enjoying--as only a host can enjoy-- +the mingled delight and admiration of his guest; and now the work began +in right earnest. What an admirable soup, and what a glass of +“Niederthaler”--no hock was ever like it; and those pâtés--they were “en +bechamelle.” “He was sorry they were not oysters, but the Chablis, he +could vouch for.” And well he might; such a glass of wine might console +the Emperor for Leipsic. + +“How did you say the trout was fried, my friend?” + +“In mushroom gravy, dashed with anchovy.” + +“Another slice, if you’ll permit me,” pop! “That flask has burst its +bonds in time; I was wishing to taste your ‘OEil de Perdrix.’” + +The outposts were driven in by this time, and the heavy guns of the +engagement were brought down; in other words, the braten, a goodly dish +of veal, garnished with every incongruity the mind of man could muster, +entered; which, while the host carved at the side-board, the Colonel +devoured in his imagination, comforting himself the while by a salmi of +partridges with truffles. + +Some invaluable condiment had, however, been forgotten with the veal, +and the host bustled out of the room in search of it. The door had not +well closed, when the Colonel dashed out a goblet of Champagne, and +drank it at a draught; then, springing from the window into the Platz, +where already the shadow of evening was falling, was immediately +replaced by the Major, whose dress and general appearance were +sufficiently like his own to deceive any stranger. + +Helping himself without loss of time to the salmi, he ate away, like one +whose appetite had suffered a sore trial from suspense. + +The salmi gave place to the veal, and the veal to the baked pike; for so +it is, the stomach, in Germany, is a kind of human ark, wherein, though +there is little order in the procession, the animals enter whole and +entire. The host watched his guest’s performance, and was in ecstasies-- +good things never did meet with more perfect appreciation; and as for +the wine, he drank it like a Swabian, whole goblets full at a draught. +At length, holding up an empty flask, he cried out “Champagne!” And away +trotted the fat man to his cellar, rather surprised, it is true, how +rapidly three flasks of his “Aï Mousseux” had disappeared. + +This was now the critical moment, and with a half-sigh of regret, the +Major leaped into the street, and the first Captain relieved the guard. + +Poor fellow, he was fearfully hungry, and helped himself to the first +dish before him, and drank from the bottle at his side, like one whose +stomach had long ceased to be pampered by delicacies. + +“Du Heiliger!” cried the host to himself, as he stood behind his chair, +and surveyed the performance. “Du Heiliger! how he does eat, one +wouldn’t suppose he had been at it these fifty minutes; art ready for +the capon now?” continued he, as he removed the keel and floor timbers +of a saddle of mutton. + +“The capon,” sighed the other; “Yes, the capon, now.” Alas! he knew that +delicious dish was reserved for his successor. And so it was; before the +host re-entered, the second Captain had filled his glass twice, and was +anxiously sitting in expectation of the capon. + +Such a bird as it was!--a very sarcophagus of truffles--a mine of +delicious dainties of every clime and cuisine. + +“Good--eh?” + +“Delicious!” said the second Captain, filling a bumper, and handing it +to the host, while he clinked his own against it in friendly guise. + +“A pleasant fellow, truly,” said the host, “and a social--but, Lord, how +he eats! There go the wings and the back! Himmel und Erde! if he isn’t +at the pasty now!” + +“Wine!” cried the Frenchman, striking the table with the empty bottle, +“Wine.” + +The host crossed himself, and went out in search of more liquor, +muttering as he shuffled along, “What would have become of me, if I +hadn’t paid the indemnity!” + +The third Captain was at his post before the host got back, and whatever +the performance of his predecessors, it was nothing to his. The pasty +disappeared like magic, the fricandeau seemed to have melted away like +snow before the sun; while he drank, indiscriminately, Hock, Hermitage, +and Bordeaux, as though he were a camel, victualling himself for a three +weeks’ tramp in the desert. + + +The poor host now walked round the board, and surveyed the “débris” of +the feast, with a sad heart. Of all the joints which he hoped to have +seen cold on the shelves of his larder, some ruined fragments alone +remained. Here was the gable end of a turkey--there, the side wall of a +sirloin; on one side, the broken roof of a pasty; on the other, the bare +joists of a rib of beef. It was the Palmyra of things eatable, and a sad +and melancholy sight to gaze on. + +“What comes next, good host?” cried the third Captain, as he wiped his +lips with his napkin. + +“Next!” cried the host, in horror, “Hagel und regen! thou canst not eat +more, surely!” + +“I don’t know that,” replied the other, “the air of these mountains +freshens the appetite--I might pick a little of something sweet.” + +With a groan of misery, the poor host placed a plum pie before the all- +devouring stranger, and then, as if to see that no legerdemain was +practised, stationed himself directly in front, and watched every +morsel, as he put it into his mouth. No, the thing was all fair, he ate +like any one else, grinding his food and smacking his lips, like an +ordinary mortal. The host looked down on the floor, and beneath the +cloth of the table--what was that for? Did he suspect the stranger had a +tail? + +“A glass of mulled claret with cloves!” said the frenchman, “and then +you may bring the dessert.” + +“The Heavens be praised!” cried the host as he swept the last fragments +of the table into a wide tray, and left the room. + +“Egad! I thought you had forgotten me altogether, Captain,” said a +stout, fat fellow, as he squeezed himself with difficulty through the +window, and took his seat at the table. This was the Quarter-master of +the Regiment, and celebrated for his appetite throughout the whole +brigade. + +“Ach Gott! how he is swelled out!” was the first exclamation of the +host, as he re-entered the room; “and no wonder either, when one thinks +of what he has eaten.” + +“How now, what’s this?” shouted the Quarter-master, as he saw the +dessert arranging on the table, “Sacré tonnerre! what’s all this?” + +“The dessert--if you can eat it,” said the host, with a deep sigh. + +“Eat it!--no--how the devil should I?” + +“I thought not,” responded the other, submissively, “I thought not, even +a shark will get gorged at last!” + +“Eh, what’s that you say?” replied the Quarter-master, roughly, “you +don’t expect a man to dine on figs and walnuts, or dried prunes and +olives, do you?” + +“Dine!” shouted the host, “and have you not dined?” + +“No, mille bombes, that I haven’t--as you shall soon see!” + +“Alle Gute Geisten loben den Hernn!” said the host, blessing himself, +“An thou be’st the Satanus, I charge thee keep away!” + +A shout of laughter from without, prevented the Quartermaster’s reply to +this exorcism being heard; while the trumpet sounded suddenly for “boot +and saddle.” + +With a bottle of wine stuffed in each pocket, the Quartermaster rose +from table, and hurried away to join his companions, who had received +sudden orders to push forward towards Cassel, and as the bewildered host +stood at his window, while the regiment filed past, each officer saluted +him politely, as they cried out in turn, “Adieu, Monsieur! my +compliments to the braten”--“the turkey was delicious”--“the salmi +perfect”--“the capon glorious”--“the venison a chef-d’ouvre!” down to +the fat Quarter-master, who, as he raised a flask to his lips, and shook +his head reproachfully, said, “Ah! you old screw, nothing better than +nuts and raisins to give a hungry man for his dinner!” And so they +disappeared from the Platz, leaving mine host in a maze of doubt and +bewilderment, which it took many a day and night’s meditation to solve +to his own conviction. + +Though I cannot promise myself that my reader will enjoy this story as +much as I did, I could almost vouch for his doing so, if he heard it +from the host of the “Reuten Krantz” himself, told with the staid +gravity of German manner, and all the impressive seriousness of one who +saw in the whole adventure, nothing ludicrous whatever, but only a most +unfair trick, that deserved the stocks, or the pillory. + +He was indeed a character in his way, his whole life had only room for +three or four incidents, about, and around which, his thoughts revolved, +as on an axis, and whose impression was too vivid to admit of any +occurrence usurping their place. When a boy, he had been in the habit of +acting as guide to the “Wartburg” to his father’s guests--for they were +a generation of innkeepers, time out of mind, and even yet, he spoke of +those days with transport. + +It was amusing, too, to hear him talk of Luther, as familiarly as though +he had known him personally, mentioning little anecdotes of his career, +and repeating his opinions as if they were things of yesterday; but +indeed his mind had little more perspective than a Chinese tea-tray-- +everything stood beside its neighbour, without shadow, or relief of any +kind, and to hear him talk, you would say that Melancthon and Marshal +Macdonald might have been personal friends, and Martin Luther and Ney +passed an evening in the blue salon of the Reuten Krantz. As for +Eisenach and all about it, he knew as little as though it were a city of +Egypt. He _hoped_ there was a public library now--he _knew_ there was in +his father’s time, but the French used to make cartridges with the books +in many towns they passed through--perhaps they had done the same here. +These confounded French--they seemed some way to fill every avenue of +his brain--there was no inlet of his senses, without a French sentinel +on guard over it. + +Now,--for my sins, I suppose,--it so chanced that I was laid up here for +several weeks, with a return of an old rheumatism I had contracted in +one of my wanderings. Books, they brought me, but alas! the only volumes +a German circulating library ever contains are translations of the very +worst French and English works. The weather was, for the most part, +rainy and broken, and even when my strength permitted me to venture into +the garden, I generally got soundly drenched before I reached the house +again. What insupportable ennui is that which inhabits the inn of a +little remote town, where come few travellers, and no news! What a +fearful blank in existence is such a place. Just think of sitting in the +little silent and sanded parlour, with its six hard chairs, and one +straight old sofa, upholstered with flock and fleas; counting over the +four prints in black wood frames, upon the walls. Scripture subjects, +where Judith, with a quilted petticoat and sabots, cuts the head off a +Holofernes in buckskins and top boots, and catches the blood in a soup +tureen; an Abraham with a horse pistol, is threatening a little Isaac in +jacket and trowsers, with a most villanous expression about the corners +of his eyes; and the old looking-glass, cracked in the middle, and +representing your face, in two hemispheres, with a nose and one eye to +each--the whole tinged with a verd antique colouring that makes you look +like a man in bronze. + +Outside the door, but near enough for every purpose of annoyance, stands +a great hulking old clock, that ticks away incessantly--true type of +time that passes on its road whether you be sick or sorry, merry or +mournful. With what a burr the old fellow announces that he is going to +strike--it is like the asthmatic wheezing of some invalid, making an +exertion beyond his strength, and then, the heavy plod of sabots, back +and forward through the little hall, into the kitchen, and out again to +the stable yard; with the shrill yell of some drabbled wench, screaming +for “Johann” or “Jacob;” and all the little platitudes of the “ménage” + that reach you, seasoned from time to time by the coarse laughter of the +boors, or the squabbling sounds that issue streetwards, where some +vender of “schnaps” or “kirch-wasser” holds his tap. + +What a dreary sensation comes over one, to think of the people who pass +their lives in such a place, with its poor little miserable interests +and occupations! and how one shudders at the bare idea of sinking down +to the level of such a stagnant pool--knowing the small notorieties, and +talking like them; and yet, with all this holy horror, how rapidly, and +insensibly, is such a change induced. Every day rubs off some former +prejudice, and induces some new habit, and, as the eye of the prisoner, +in his darksome dungeon, learns to distinguish each object clear, as if +in noon-day; so will the mind accommodate itself to the moral gloom of +such a cell as this, ay, and take a vivid interest in each slight event +that goes on there, as though he were to the “manner born.” + +In a fortnight, or even less, I lay awake, conjecturing why the urchin +who brought the mail from Gotha, had not arrived;--before three weeks I +participated in the shock of the town, at the conduct of the Frow von +Bütterwick, who raised the price of Schenkin or Schweinfleisch, I forget +which--by some decimal of a farthing; and fully entered into the +distressed feelings of the inhabitants, who foretold a European war, +from the fact that a Prussian corporal with a pack on his shoulders, was +seen passing through the town, that morning, before day-break. + +When I came to think over these things, I got into a grievous state of +alarm. “Another week, Arthur,” said I, “and thou art done for: Eisenach +may claim thee as its own; and the Grand Duke of------, Heaven forgive +me! but I forget the Potentate of the realm,--he may summon thee to his +counsels, as the Hoch Wohlgeborner und Gelehrter, Herr von O’Leary; and +thou may’st be found here some half century hence, with a pipe in thy +mouth, and thy hands in thy side pockets, discoursing fat consonants, +like any Saxon of them all. Run for it, man, run for it; away, with half +a leg, if need be; out of the kingdom with all haste; and if it be not +larger than its neighbours, a hop, step, and jump, ought to suffice for +it.” + +Will any one tell me--I’ll wager they cannot--why it is, that if you +pass a week or a month, in any out-of-the-way place, and either from +sulk or sickness, lead a solitary kind of humdrum life; that when you +are about to take your leave, you find half the family in tears. Every +man, woman, and child, thinks it incumbent on them to sport a mourning +face. The host wipes his eye with the corner of the bill; the waiter +blows his nose in the napkin; the chambermaid holds up her apron; and +boots, with a side wipe of his blacking hand, leaves his countenance in +a very fit state for the application of the polishing brush. As for +yourself, the position is awkward beyond endurance. + +That instant you feel sick of the whole household, from the cellar to +the garret. You had perilled your soul in damning them all in turn; and +now it comes out, that you are the “enfant chéri” of the establishment. +What a base, blackhearted fellow you must be all the time; in short, you +feel it; otherwise, why is your finger exploring so low in the recesses +of your purse. Confound it, you have been very harsh and hasty with the +good people, and they did their best after all. + +Take up your abode at Mivart’s or the Clarendon; occupy for the six +months of winter, the suite of apartments at Crillons or Meurice; engage +the whole of the “Schwann” at Vienna; aye, or even the Grand Monarque, +at Aix; and I’ll wager my head, you go forth at the end of it, without +causing a sigh in the whole household. Don’t flatter yourself that +Mivart will stand blubbering over the bill, or Meurice be half choked +with his sobs. The Schwann doesn’t care a feather of his wing, and as +for the Grand Monarque, you might as well expect his prototype would +rise from the grave to embrace you. A civil grin, that half implies, +“You’ve been well plucked here,” is the extent of parting emotion, and a +tear couldn’t be had for the price of Tokay. + +Well, I bid adieu to the Reuten Krantz, in a different sort of mood from +what I expected. I shook the old “Rue Branch” himself heartily by the +hand, and having distributed a circle of gratuities--for the sum total +of which I should have probably been maltreated by a London waiter--I +took my staff, and sallied forth towards Weimar, accompanied by a shower +of prayers and kind wishes, that, whether sincere or not, made me feel +happier the whole day after. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. “ERFURT” + +I narrowly escaped being sent to the guardhouse for the night, as I +approached Erfurt--for seeing that it was near nine o’clock when the +gates of the fortress are closed, I quickened my pace to a trot, not +aware of the “règlement” which forbids any one to pass rapidly over the +drawbridges of a fortification. Now, though the rule be an admirable one +when applied to those heavy diligences which, with three tons of +passengers, and six of luggage, come lumbering along the road, and might +well be supposed to shake the foundations of any breast-work or +barbican; yet, that any man of mortal mould, any mere creature of the +biped class--even with two shirts and a night-cap in his pack--could do +this, is more than I can conceive; and so it was, I ran, and if I did, a +soldier ran after me, three more followed him, and a corporal brought up +the rear, and in fact, so imposing was the whole scene, that any +unprejudiced spectator, not overversed in military tactics, might have +imagined that I was about to storm Erfurt, and had stolen a march upon +the garrison. After all, the whole thing was pretty much like what Murat +did at Vienna, and perhaps it was that which alarmed them. + +I saw I had committed a fault, but what it was I couldn’t even guess, +and as they all spoke together, and such precious bad German, too, (did +you ever know a foreigner not complain of the abominable faults people +commit in speaking their own language?) that though I cried “peccavi,” I +remembered myself, and did not volunteer any confessions of iniquity, +before I heard the special indictment, and it seemed I had very little +chance of doing that, such was the confusion and uproar. + +Now, there are two benevolent institutions in all law, and according to +these, a man may plead, either “in forma pauperis,” or “in forma +stultus.” I took the latter plea, and came off triumphant--my sentence +was recorded as a “Dummer Englander,” and I went my way, rejoicing. + +Well, “I wish them luck of it!” as we say in Ireland, who have a fancy +for taking fortified towns. Here was I, inside of one, the gates closed, +locked, and barred behind me, a wall of thirty feet high, and a ditch of +fifty feet deep, to keep me in, and hang me if I could penetrate into +the interior. I suppose I was in what is called a parallel, and I walked +along, turning into a hundred little, crooked corners, and zig-zag +contrivances, where an embrasure, and a cannon in it, were sure to be +found. But as nothing are so like each other as stone walls, and as I +never, for the life of me, could know one seventy-four pounder from +another, I wandered about, very sadly puzzled to ascertain if I had not +been perambulating the same little space of ground for an hour and a +half. Egad! thought I, if there were no better engineers in the world +than me, they might leave the gates wide open, and let the guard go to +bed. Hollo, here’s some one coming along, that’s fortunate, at last--and +just then, a man wrapped in a loose cloak, German fashion, passed close +beside me. + +“May I ask, mein Herr, which is the direction of the town, and where I +can find an inn?” said I, taking off my hat, most punctiliously, for +although it was almost pitch-dark, that courtesy cannot ever be omitted, +and I have heard of a German, who never talked to himself, without +uncovering. + +“Straight forward, and then to your left, by the angle of the citadel-- +you can take a short cut through the covered way----” + +“Heaven forbid!” interrupted I; “where all is fair and open, my chance +is bad enough--there is no need of a concealed passage, to confuse me.” + +“Come with me, then,” said he, laughing, “I perceive you are a +foreigner--this is somewhat longer, but I’ll see you safe to the +‘Kaiser,’ where you’ll find yourself very comfortable.” + +My guide was an officer of the garrison, and seemed considerably +flattered by the testimony I bore to the impregnability of the fortress; +describing as we went along, for my better instruction, the various +remarkable features of the place. Lord, how weary I was of casemates and +embrasures, of bomb-proofs and culverins, half-moons and platforms; and +as I continued, from politeness to express my surprise and wonderment, +he took the more pains to expound those hidden treasures; and I verily +believe he took me a mile out of my way, to point out the place, in the +dark, where a large gun lay, that took a charge of one hundred and +seventy livres weight. I was now fairly done up; and having sworn +solemnly that the French army dare not show their noses this side of the +Rhine, so long as a Corporal’s guard remained at Erfurt, I begged hard +to have a peep at the “Kaiser.” + +“Won’t you see the Rothen Stein?” said he. + +“To-morrow,--if I survive,” said I, dropping my voice for the last +words. + +“Nor the Wunder Brucke?----” + +“With God’s blessing, to-morrow, I’ll visit them all; I came for the +purpose.” Heaven pardon the lie, I was almost fainting. + +“Be it so, then,” said he, “We must go back again now. We have come a +good distance out of our road.” + +With a heavy groan, I turned back; and if I did not curse Vauban and +Carnot, it was because I am a good Christian, and of a most forgiving +temper. + +“Here we are now, this is the Kaiser,” said he, as after half an hour’s +sharp walking, we stood within a huge archway, dimly lighted by a great +old-fashioned lantern. + +“You stop here some days, I think you said?” + +“Yes, for a fortnight; or a week, at least.” + +“Well, if you’ll permit me, I’ll have great pleasure in conducting you +through the fortress, to-morrow and next day. You can’t see it all under +two days, and even with that, you’ll have to omit the arsenals and the +shot batteries.” + +I expressed my most grateful acknowledgments, with an inward vow, that +if I took refuge in the big mortar, I’d not be caught by my friend the +next morning. + +“Good night, then,” said he, with a polite bow. “Bis Morgen.”-- + +“Bis Morgen,” repeated I, and entered the Kaiser. + +The “Romischer Kaiser” was a great place once; but now, alas! its “Diana +is fallen!” Time was, when two Emperors slept beneath its roof, and the +Ambassadors of Kings assembled within its walls. It was here Napoleon +exercised that wonderful spell of enchantment he possessed above all +other men, and so captivated the mind of the Emperor Alexander, that not +even all the subsequent invasion of his empire, nor the disasters of +Moscow, could eradicate the impression. The Czar alone, of his enemies, +would have made terms with him in 1814; and when no other voice was +raised in his favour, Alexander’s was heard, commemorating their ancient +friendship, and recalling the time when they had been like brothers. +Erfurt was the scene of their first friendship. Many now living, have +seen Napoleon, with his arm linked within Alexander’s, as they walked +along; and marked the spell-bound attention of the Czar, as he listened +to the burning words, and rapid eloquence of Buonaparte, who, with a +policy all his own, devoted himself completely to the young Emperor, and +resolved on winning him over. They were never separate on horseback or +on foot. They dined, and went to the theatre together each evening; and +the flattery of this preference, so ostentatiously paraded by Napoleon, +had its full effect on the ardent imagination, and chivalrous heart of +the youthful Czar. + +Fêtes, reviews, gala parties, and concerts, followed each other in quick +succession. The corps of the “Français” was brought expressly from +Paris; the ballet of the Opera also came, and nothing was omitted which +could amuse the hours of Alexander, and testify the desire of his host-- +for such Napoleon was--to entertain him with honour. Little, then, did +Napoleon dream, that the frank-hearted youth, who hung on every word he +spoke, would one day prove the most obstinate of all his enemies; nor +was it for many a day after, that he uttered, in the bitter venom of +disappointment, when the rugged energy of the Muscovite showed an +indomitable front to the strength of his armies, and was deaf to his +attempted négociations, “Scrape the Russian, and you’ll come down on the +Tartar.” + +Alexander was indeed the worthy grandson of Catherine, and, however a +feeling of personal regard for Napoleon existed through the vicissitudes +of after-life, it is no less true that the dissimulation of the Russian +had imposed on the Corsican; and that while Napoleon believed him all +his own, the duplicity of the Muscovite had overreached him. It was in +reference to that interview and its pledged good faith, Napoleon, in one +of his cutting sarcasms, pronounced him, “Faux comme un Grec du Bas +Empire.” + +Nothing troubled the happiness of the meeting at Erfurt. It was a joyous +and a splendid fête, where, amid all the blandishments of luxury and +pleasure, two great kings divided the world at their will. It was +Constantine and Charlemagne who partitioned the East and West between +each other. The sad and sorrow-struck King of Prussia came not there as +at Tilsit; nor the fair Queen of that unhappy kingdom, whose beauty and +misfortunes might well have claimed the compassion of the conqueror. + +Never was Napoleon’s character exhibited in a point of view less amiable +than in his relations with the Queen of Prussia. If her position and her +personal attractions had no influence over him, the devoted attachment +of her whole nation towards her, should have had that effect. There was +something unmanly in the cruelty that replied to her supplication in +favour of her country, by trifling allusions to the last fashions of +Paris, and the costumes of the Boulevard; and when she accepted the +moss-rose from his hand, and tremblingly uttered the words--“Sire, avec +Magdebourg?”--a more suitable rejection of her suit might have been +found, than the abrupt “Non!” of Napoleon, as he turned his back and +left her. There was something prophetic in her speech, when relating the +anecdote herself to Hardenberg, she added-- + +“That man is too pitiless to misfortune, ever to support it himself, +should it be his lot!” + +But what mean all these reflections, Arthur? These be matters of +history, which the world knows as well, or better than thyself. “Que +diable allez-vous faire dans cette galère?” Alas! this comes of supping +in the Speise Saal of the “Kaiser,” and chatting with the great round- +faced Prussian in uniform, at the head of the table; he was a lieutenant +of the guard at Tilsit, and also at Erfurt with despatches in 1808; he +had a hundred pleasant stories of the fêtes, and the droll mistakes the +body-guard of the Czar used to fall into, by ignorance of the habits and +customs of civilized life. They were Bashkirs, and always bivouacked in +the open street before the Emperor’s quarters, and spent the whole night +through chanting a wild and savage song, which some took up, as others +slept, and when day broke, the whole concluded with a dance, which, from +the description I had of it, must have been something of the most +uncouth and fearful that could be conceived. + +Napoleon admired those fellows greatly, and more than one among them +left Erfurt with the cross of the Legion at his breast. + +Tired and weary, as I was, I sat up long past midnight, listening to the +Prussian, who rolled out his reminiscences between huge volumes of +smoke, in the most amusing fashion. And when I did retire to rest, it +was to fall into a fearful dream about Bashkirs and bastions; half- +moons, hot shot, and bomb-proofs, that never left me till morning broke. + +“The Rittmeister von Otterstadt presents his compliments,” said the +waiter, awakening me from a heavy sleep--“presents his compliments---” + +“Who?” cried I, with a shudder. + +“The Rittmeister von Otterstadt, who promised to show you the fortress.” + +“I’m ill,--seriously ill,” said I, “I should not be surprised if it were +a fever.” + +“Probably so,” echoed the immovable German, and went on with his +message. “The Herr Rittmeister regrets much that he is ordered away on +Court Martial duty to Entenburg, and cannot have the honour of +accompanying you, before Saturday, when----” + +“With Heaven’s assistance, I shall be out of the visible horizon of +Erfurt,” said I, finishing the sentence for him. + +Never was there a mind so relieved as mine was by this intelligence; the +horrors of that two days’ perambulations through arched passages, up and +down flights of stone steps, and into caves and cells, of whose uses and +objects I had not the most remote conception, had given me a night of +fearful dreams, and now, I was free once more. + +Long live the King of Prussia! say I, who keeps up smart discipline in +his army, and I fervently trust, that Court Martial may be thoroughly +digested, and maturely considered; and the odds are in my favour that +I’m off before it’s over. + +What is it, I wonder, that makes the inhabitants of fortified towns +always so stupid? Is such the fact?--first of all, asks some one of my +readers. Not a doubt of it--if you ever visited them, and passed a week +or two within their walls, you would scarcely ask the question. Can +curtains and bastions--fosses and half-moons, exclude intelligence as +effectually as they do an enemy? are batteries as fatal to pleasure as +they are to platoons? I cannot say; but what I can and will say, is, +that the most melancholy days and nights I ever passed, have been in +great fortresses. Where the works are old and tumbling, some little +light of the world without, will creep in through the chinks and +crevices, as at Antwerp and Mentz; but let them be well looked to--the +fosses full--no weeds on the ramparts--the palisades painted smart +green, and the sentry boxes to match, and God help you! + +There must be something in the humdrum routine of military duty, that +has its effect upon the inhabitants. They get up at morning, by a signal +gun; and they go to bed by another; they dine by beat of drum, and the +garrison gives the word of command for every hour in the twenty-four; +There is no stir, no movement; a patrol, or a fatigue party, are the +only things you meet, and when you prick up your ears at the roll of +wheels, it turns out to be only a tumbril with a corporal’s guard! + +Theatres can scarcely exist in such places; a library would die in a +week; there are no soirées; no society. Billiards and beer, form the +staple of officers’ pleasures, in a foreign army, and certainly they +have one recommendation, they are cheap. + +Now, as there was little to see in Erfurt, and still less to do, I made +up my mind to start early the next day, and push forward to Weimar, a +good resolution as far as it went, but then, how was the day to be +passed? People dine at “one” in Germany, or, if they wish to push +matters to a fashionable extreme, they say “two.” How is the interval, +till dark, to be filled up--taking it for granted you have provided some +occupation for that? Coffee, and smoking, will do something, but except +to a German, they can’t fill up six mortal hours. Reading is out of the +question after such a dinner,--riding would give you apoplexy--sleep, +alone, is the resource. Sleep “that wraps a man, as in a blanket,” as +honest Sancho says, and sooth to say, one is fit for little else, and +so, having ordered a pen and ink to my room, as if I were about to write +various letters, I closed the door, and my eyes, within five minutes +after, and never awoke till the bang of a “short eighteen” struck six. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. THE HERR. DIRECTOR KLUG. + +“Which is the way to the theatre?” said I to an urchin who stood at the +inn door, in that professional attitude of waiting, your street runners, +in all cities, can so well assume; for, holding a horse, and ringing a +bell, are accomplishments, however little some people may deem them. + +“The theatre?” echoed he, measuring me leisurely from head to foot, and +not stirring from his place. + +“Yes,” said I, “they told me there was one here, and that they played +to-night.” + +“Possibly,” with a shrug of the shoulders, was the reply, and he smoked +his short pipe, as carelessly as before. + +“Come then, show me the way,” said I, pulling out some kreutzers, “put +up that pipe for ten minutes, and lead on.” + +The jingle of the copper coin awakened his intelligence, and though he +could not fathom my antipathy to the fumes of bad tobacco, he deposited +the weapon in his capacious side pocket, and with a short nod, bade me +follow him. + +No where does nationality exhibit itself so strikingly, as in the +conduct and bearing of the people who show you the way, in different +cities. Your German is sententious and solemn as an elephant, he goes +plodding along with his head down and his hands in his pockets, +answering your questions with a sulky monosyllable, and seeming annoyed +when not left to his own meditations. The Frenchman thinks, on the +contrary, that he is bound to be agreeable and entertaining, he is doing +the honours of La Grande Nation, and it stands him upon, that you are +not to go away discontented with the politeness of “the only civilized +people of Europe.” Paddy has some of this spirit too, but less on +national than individual grounds; he likes conversation, and leads the +way to it; beside, no one, while affecting to give information himself, +can pump a stranger, like an Irishman. The Yankee plan is cross- +examination outright, and no disguise about it; if he shows the way to +one place, it is because you must tell him where you came from last; +while John Bull, with a brief “Don’t know, I’m sure,” is equally +indifferent to your road and your fortune, and has no room for any +thoughts about you. + +My “avant courier” was worthy of his country; if every word had cost him +a molar tooth, he couldn’t have been more sparing of them, and when by +chance I either did not hear or rightly understand what he did say, +nothing could induce him to repeat it; and so, on we went from the more +frequented part of the town, till we arrived at a quarter of narrow +streets, and poor-looking houses, over the roofs of which I could from +time to time, catch glimpses of the fortifications; for we were at the +extreme limits of the place. + +“Are you quite certain this is the way, my lad?” said I, for I began to +fear lest he might have mistaken the object of my inquiry. + +“Yes, yes--there it was--there was the theatre,” and so he pointed to a +large building of dark stone, which closed the end of the street, and on +the walls of which, various placards and announcements were posted, +which, on coming nearer, I found were bills for their night’s +performance, setting forth how the servants of his Majesty would perform +“Den Junker in den Residentz,” and the afterpiece of “Krähwinkel.” There +was a very flourishing catalogue of actors and actresses, with names as +hard as the dishes in a bill of fare; and something about a “ballet,” + and a “musical intermezzo.” + +Come--said I to myself--this is a piece of good fortune. And so, +dismissing my little foot page I turned to the door, which stood within +a deep porch. + +What was my amazement, however, to find it closed--I looked on every +side, but there was no other entrance; besides, the printed list of +places and their prices, left no doubt that this was the regular place +of admission. There’s no knowing, after all,--thought I--these Germans +are strange folks; perhaps they don’t open the door without knocking, +and so, here goes. + +“In Himmel’s namen was ist das?” screamed an angry voice, as a very +undignified-looking Vrau peeped from a window of a foot square, above +the door--“What do you want with that uproar there?” roared she, louder +than before. + +“I want to get in--a place in the boxes, or a ‘stalle’ in the ‘balcon’-- +anywhere will do.” + +“What for?” cried she again. + +“What for!--for the play to be sure--for the ‘Junker in den Resident.’” + +“He is not here at all--go your ways--or I’ll call the Polizey,” yelled +she, while, banging the window, there was an end of the dialogue. + +“Can I be of any service to you, mein Herr?” said a portly little +fellow, without a coat, who was smoking at his door--“What is it you +want?” + +“I came to see a play,” said I, in amazement at the whole proceedings, +“and here I find nothing but an old beldam that threatens me with the +police.” + +“Ah! as for the play I don’t know,” replied he, scratching his head, +“but come with me over here to the ‘Fox’ and we’re sure to see the Herr +Director.” + +“But I’ve nothing to do with the Herr Director,” said I; “if there’s no +performance I must only go back again--that’ s all.” + +“Aye! but there may though,” rejoined my friend; “come along and see the +Herr himself, I know him well, and he’ll tell you all about it.” + +The proposition was at least novel, and as the world goes, that same is +not without its advantages, and so I acceded, and followed my new guide, +who, in the careless _négligée_ of a waistcoat and breeches, waddled +along before me. + +The “Fox” was an old-fashioned house, of framed wood, with queer +diamond-shaped panes to the windows, and a great armorial coat over the +door, where a fox, in black oak, stood out conspicuously. + +Scarcely had we entered the low arched door, when the fumes of schnaps +and tobacco nearly suffocated me; while the merry chorus of a drinking +song, proclaimed that a jolly party was assembled. + +I already repented of my folly in yielding to the strange man’s +proposal, and had he been near, would at once have declined any further +step in the matter; but he had disappeared in the clouds,--the disc of +his drab shorts was all I could perceive through the nebulae. It was +confoundedly awkward, so it was. What right had I to hunt down the Herr +Director, and disturb him in his lair. It was enough that there was no +play; any other man would have quietly returned home again, when he saw +such was the case. + +While I revolved these thoughts with myself, my fat friend issued from +the mist, followed by a tall, thin man, dressed in deep black, with +tights and hessians of admirable fit; a pair of large, bushy whiskers +bisected his face, meeting at the corners of the nose; while a sharp, +and pointed chin tuft, seemed to prolong the lower part of his +countenance to an immense extent. + +Before the short man had well uttered his announcement of the “Herr +Director,” I had launched forth into the most profuse apologies for my +unwarrantable intrusion, expressing in all the German I could muster, +the extent of my sorrow, and ringing the changes on my grief and my +modesty, my modesty and my grief; at last I gave in, fairly floored for +want of the confounded verb one must always clinch the end of a sentence +with, in German. + +“It was to see the play then, Monsieur came?” said the Director, +inquiringly, for alas! my explanation had been none of the clearest. + +“Yes,” said I, “for the play--but----” Before I could finish the +sentence, he flung himself into my arms, and cried out with enthusiasm, +“Du bist mein Vater’s Sohn!” + +This piece of family information, was unquestionably new to me, but I +disengaged myself from my brother’s arms, curious to know the meaning of +such enthusiasm. + +“And so you came to see the play?” cried he, in a transport, while he +threw himself into a stage attitude of great effect. + +“Yes.” said I, “to see the ‘Junker,’ and ‘Krähwinkel.’” + +“Ach Grott! that was fine, that was noble!” + +Now, how any man’s enterprising a five-franc piece or two gulden-müntze, +could, deserve such epithets, would have puzzled me at another moment; +but as the dramatist said, I wasn’t going to “mind squibs after sitting +over a barrel of gunpowder,” and I didn’t pay the least attention to it. + +“Give me your hand!” cried he, in a rapture, “and let me call you +friend.” + +The Director’s mad as a March hare! thought I, and I wished myself well +out of the whole adventure. + +“But as there’s no play,” said I, “another night will do as well; I +shall remain here for a week to come, perhaps longer----” + +But while I went on expressing the great probability of my passing a +winter in Erfurt, he never paid the least attention to my observations, +but seemed sunk in meditation, occasionally dropping in a stray phrase, +as thus--“Die Wurtzel is sick, that is, she is at the music garden with +the officers; then, Blum is drunk by this; der Ettenbaum couldn’t sing a +note after his supper of schinkin. But then there’s Grundenwald, and +Catinka, to be sure, and Alte Kreps--we’ll do it, we’ll do it! Come +along, mien aller Liebster, and choose the best ‘loge du premier,’ take +two, three, if you like it--you shall see a play.” + +“What do you mean? you are surely not going to open the house for _me!_” + +“Ain’t I though! you shall soon see--it’s the only audience I ever had +in Erfurt, and I’m not going to lose it. Know, most worthy friend,” + continued he with a most melodramatic tone and gesture, “that to-night +is the twelfth time I have given out an announcement of a play, and yet +never was able to attract--I will not say an audience--but not a row-- +not a ‘loge’--not even a ‘stalle’ in the balcon. I opened, why do I say +I opened? I advertised, the first night, Schiller’s Maria Stuart, you +know the Maria--well, such a Madchen as we have for the part! such +tenderness--such music in her voice--such grace and majesty in every +movement; you shall see for yourself, Catinka is here. Then I gave out +‘Nathan der Weise,’ then the ‘Goetz,’ then ‘Lust und Liebe,’--why do I +go on? in a word I went through all our dramatic authors from Schiller, +Göthe, Leasing, Werner, Grillparzer, down to Kötzebue, whose two pieces +I advertised for this evening--” + +“But--pardon my interruption--did you always keep the doors closed, as I +found them?” + +“Not at first,” responded he, solemnly; “the doors were open, and a +system of telegraphs established between the bureau for payment and the +orchestra, by which the footlights were to be illuminated on the arrival +of the first visiter; but the bassoon and the drum, the clarinette and +the oboe, stood like cannoneers, match in hand, from half-past six till +eight, and never came the word ‘fire!’ But here we are.” + +With these words he produced from his pocket a massive key, with which +he unlocked the door, and led me forward by the arm into a dark passage, +followed by our coatless friend, whom he addressed as “Herr Stauf,” + desiring him to come in also. While the Herr Director was waiting for a +light, which the Vrau seemed in no hurry to bring, he continued his +recital. “When I perceived matters were thus, I vowed two vows, +solemnly, and before the whole corps, ballet, chorus, and all; first, +that I would give twelve representations--I mean announcements of +representation--from twelve separate dramatists, before I left Erfurt; +and, secondly, that for a single spectator, I would open the house, and +have a play acted. One part of my oath is already accomplished; your +appearance calls on me for the other. This over, I shall leave Erfurt +for ever; and if,” continued he, “the fates ever discover me again +within the walls of a fortified town--unless I be sent there in +handcuffs, and with a peloton of dragoons--may I never cork my eyebrows +while I live!” + +This resolve, so perfectly in accordance with the meditations I had +lately indulged in myself, gave me a higher opinion of the Herr +Director’s judgment, and I followed him with a more tranquil conscience +than at first. + +“There are four steps there--take care,” cried he, “and feel along by +the wall here; for though this place should be, and indeed is, by right, +one blaze of lamps, I must now conduct you by this miserable candle.” + +And so, through many a narrow passage, and narrower door, up-stairs and +down, over benches, and under partitions, we went, until at length we +arrived upon the stage itself. The curtain was up, and before it, in +yawning blackness, lay the audience part of the house--a gloomy and +dreary cavern; the dark cells of the boxes, and the long, untenanted, +benches of the “balcon,” had an effect of melancholy desolation +impossible to convey. Up above, the various skies and moon scenes hung, +flapping to and fro with the cold wind, that came, Heaven knows whence, +but with a piercing sharpness I never felt the equal of within doors; +while the back of the stage was lost in a dim distance, where fragments +of huts, and woods, mills, mountains, and rustic bridges, lay +discordantly intermixed--the chaos of a stage world. + +The Herr Director waved his dip candle to and fro, above his head, like +a stage magician, invoking spirits and goblins damned; while he +repeated, from one of Werner’s pieces, some lines of an incantation. + +“Gelobt sey Marie!” said the Herr Stauf, blessing himself devoutly; for +he had looked upon the whole as an act of devotion. + +“And now, friend,” continued the Director, “wait here, at this fountain, +and I will return in a few minutes.” And so saying, he quitted the +place, leaving Stauf and me in perfect darkness--a circumstance which I +soon discovered was not a whit more gratifying to my friend than myself. + +“This is a fearful place to be in the dark,” quoth Stauf, edging close +up to me; “you don’t know, but I do, that this was the Augustine Convent +formerly, and the monks were all murdered by the Elector Frederick, in-- +What was that?--Didn’t you see something like a blue flame yonder?” + +“Well, and what then; you know these people have a hundred contrivances +for stage purposes----” + +“Ach Gott! that’s true; but I wish I was out again, in the Mohren Gasse; +I’m only a poor sausage maker, and one needn’t be brave for my trade.” + +“Come, come, take courage; here comes the Herr Director;” and with that +he entered with two candles in large gilt candlesticks. + +“Now, friend,” said he, “where will you sit? My advice is, the +orchestra; take a place near the middle, behind the leader’s bench, and +you’ll be out of the draught of wind. Stauf, do you hold the candles, +and sit in the ‘pupitre.’ You’ll excuse my lighting the foot lights, +won’t you?--well, what do you say to a greatcoat; you feel it cold--I +see you do.” + +“If not too much trouble----” + +“Not at all--don’t speak of it;” and with that he slipped behind the +flats, and returned in an instant with a huge fur mantle of mock sable. +“I wear that in ‘Otto von Bohmen,’” said he proudly; “and it always +produces an immense effect. It is in that same ‘peltzer’ I stab the +king, in the fourth act; do you remember where he says, (it is at the +chess table,)--‘Check to the Queen;’ then I reply, ‘Zum Koënig, selbst,’ +and run him through.” + +“Gott bewahr!” piously ejaculated Stauf, who seemed quite beyond all +chance of distinguishing fiction from reality. + +“You’ll have to wait ten or twenty minutes, I fear,” said the Director. +“Der Catinka can’t be found, and Der Ungedroht has just washed his +doublet, and can’t appear till it’s dry; but we’ll give you the +Krfihwinkel in good style. You shall be content; and now I must go dress +too.” + +“He is a strange carl,” said Stauf, as he sat upon a tall bench, like an +office stool; “but I wish from my soul it was over!” + +I can’t say I did not participate in the wish, notwithstanding a certain +curiosity to have a peep at the rest of the company. I had seen, in my +day, some droll exhibitions in the dramatic way; but this, certainly, if +not the most amusing, was the very strangest of them all. + +I remember at Corfu, where an Italian company came one winter, and gave +a series of operas; amongst others, “II Turco in Italia.” The strength +of the corps did not, however, permit of their being equal to those +armies of Turks and Italians, who occasionally figure “en scene;” and +they were driven to ask assistance from the Commandant of the Garrison, +who very readily lent them a company of, I believe, the eighty-eighth +regiment. + +The worthy Director had sad work to drill his troops; for unhappily he +couldn’t speak a word of English; and as they knew little or no Italian, +he was reduced to signs and pantomime. When the piece, however, was +going forward, and the two rival Armies should alternately attack and +repulse each other, the luckless Director, unable to make them fight and +rally, to the quick movement of the orchestra, was heard shouting out +behind the scenes, in wild excitement, “Avanti Turki!--Avanti +Christiani!--Ah, bravo Turki!--Maledetti Christiani!” which threw the +whole audience into a perfect paroxysm of laughter. + +Come then, thought I, who knows but this may be as good as Corfu. But +lo! here he comes, and now the Director, dressed in the character of the +“Herr Berg-Bau und Weg-Inspector” came to the front of the stage, and +beginning thus, spoke, “Meine Herren und Damen--there are _no_ ladies,” + said he, stopping short, “but whose fault is that?--Meine Herren, it +grieves me much, to be obliged on this occasion------Make a row there, +why don’t you?” said he, addressing me, “ran-tan-tan!--an apology is +always interrupted by the audience; if it were not, one could never get +through it.” + +I followed his directions by hammering on the bench with my cane, and he +continued to explain that various ladies and gentlemen of the corps were +seriously indisposed, and that, though the piece should go on, it must +be with only three out of the seven characters; I renewed my marks of +disapprobation here, which seemed to afford him great delight, and he +withdrew bowing respectfully to every quarter of the house. + +Kotzebue’s Krahwinkel, as many of my readers know, needs not the +additional absurdity of the circumstances, under which I saw it +performed, to make it ludicrous and laughable. The Herr Director played +to the life; and Catinka, a pretty, plump, fair-haired “fraulein,” not +however, exactly the idea of Maria Stuart, was admirable in her part. +Even Stauf himself was so carried away by his enthusiasm, that he laid +down his candles to applaud, and for the extent of the audience, I +venture to say, there never was a more enthusiastic one. Indeed to this +fact the Director himself bore testimony, as he more than once, +interrupted the scene to thank us for our marks of approval. On both +sides, the complaisance was complete. Never did actors and audience work +better together, for while _we_ admired, _they_ relished the praise with +all the gusto of individual approbation, frequently stopping to assure +us that we were right in our applause, that their best hits were exactly +those we selected; and that a more judging public never existed. Stauf +was carried away in his ecstasies, and between laughing and applauding, +I was regularly worn out with my exertions. + +Want of light--Stauf’s candles swilled frightfully from neglect-- +compelled them to close the piece somewhat abruptly; and in the middle +of the second act, such was the obscurity, that the Herr Berg-Bau und +Weg-Inspector’s wife, fell over the prompter’s bulk, and nearly capsized +Stauf into the bowels of the big fiddle. This was the finale, and I had +barely time to invite the corps to a supper at the Fox, which they +kindly accepted, when Stauf announced that we must beat a retreat by +“inch of candle.” This we did in safety, and I reached the Fox in time +to order the repast, before the guests had washed off their paint, and +changed their dresses. + +If it has been my fortune to assist at more elegant “reunions,” I can +aver with safety I never presided over a more merry or joyous party, +than was our own at the Fox. Die Catinka sat on my left, Die Vrau von +“Mohren-Kopf,” the “Mère noble” of the corps, on my right, the Herr +Director took the foot of the table, supported by a “bassoon” and a +“first lover,” while various “trombones,” “marquis,” waiting maids, +walking gentlemen, and a “ghost,” occupied the space at either side, not +forgetting our excellent friend Stauf, who seemed the very happiest man +of the party. We were fourteen souls in all, though where two-thirds of +them came from, and how they got wind of a supper, some more astute +diviner than myself must ascertain. + +Theatrical folks, in all countries, are as much people in themselves as +the Gypsies. They have a language of their own, a peculiarity of costume +and a habit of life. They eat, drink, and intermarry with each other; +and, in fact, I shouldn’t wonder, from their organization, if they have +a king in some sly corner of Europe, who, one day will be restored, with +great pomp and ceremony. One undeniable trait distinguishes them all--at +least wherever I have met them in the old world and in the new--and that +is, a most unbounded candour in their estimation of each other. +Frankness is unquestionably the badge, of all their tribe; and they are, +without exception, the most free of hypocrisy, in this respect, of all +the classes with whom it has ever been my fortune to forgather. Nothing +is too sharp, nothing too smart to be said; no thrust too home, no stab +too fatal; it’s a mêlée tournament, where all tilt, and hard knocks are +fair. This privilege of their social world, gives them a great air of +freedom in all their intercourse with strangers, and sometimes leads +even to an excess of ease, somewhat remarkable, in their manners. With +them, intimacy is like those tropical trees that spring up, twenty feet +high in a single night. They meet you at rehearsal, and before the +curtain rises in the evening, there is a sworn friendship between you. +Stage manners, and green-room talk, carry off the eccentricities which +other men dare not practise, and though you don’t fancy “Mr. Tuft” + asking you for a loan of five pounds, hang it! you can’t be angry with +Jeremy Diddler! This double identity, this Janus attribute, cuts in two +ways, and you find it almost impossible to place any weight on the +opinions and sentiments of people, who are always professing opinions +and sentiments, learned by heart. This may be--I’m sure it is,--very +illiberal--but I can’t help it. I wouldn’t let myself be moved by the +arguments of Brutus on the Corn Laws, or Cato on the Catholic question, +any more than I should fall in love with some sweet sentiment of a day- +light Ophelia or Desdemona. I reserve all my faith in stage people, for +the hours between seven and twelve at night; then, with footlights and +scenery, pasteboard banquets, and wooden waves, I’m their slave, they +may do with me as they will, but let day come, and “I’m a man again!” + +Now as all this sounds very cross-grained, the sapient reader already +suspects there may be more in it than it appears to imply, and that +Arthur O’Leary has some grudge against the Thespians, which he wishes to +pay off in generalities. I’m not bound to answer the insinuation; +neither will I tell you more of our supper at the Fox, nor why the Herr +Director Klug invited me to take a place in his wagon next day, for +Weimar, nor what Catinka whispered, as I filled her glass with +Champagne, nor how the “serpent” frowned from the end of the table; nor, +in short, one word of the whole matter, save that I settled my bill that +same night, at the Kaiser, and the next morning, left for Weimar, with a +very large, and an excessively merry party. + +NOTE. + +Should the Reader feel--as in reason he may--some chagrin at the abrupt +conclusion of this volume, I have only to beg the same indulgence, which +I set out by asking, for a memoir so broken and fragmentary. If any +curiosity should be found to exist regarding Mr. O’Leary’s future +wanderings, or any desire to learn further of his opinions on men, women +and their children, the kind Public has only, like “Oliver,” to “ask for +more,” and the wish, unlike his, shall be complied with. + +Ed. + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Arthur O’Leary, by Charles James +Lever + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARTHUR O’LEARY *** + +***** This file should be named 32424-0.txt or 32424-0.zip ***** This +and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/4/2/32424/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be +renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one +owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and +you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission +and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the +General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and +distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the +PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a +registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, +unless you receive specific permission. If you do not charge anything +for copies of this eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You +may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative +works, reports, performances and research. They may be modified and +printed and given away--you may do practically ANYTHING with public +domain eBooks. Redistribution is subject to the trademark license, +especially commercial redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU +DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work (or +any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the +Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of +Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works +in the collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you +from copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating +derivative works based on the work as long as all references to Project +Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the +Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic +works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with +the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name +associated with the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this +agreement by keeping this work in the same format with its attached full +Project Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with +others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost +no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it +under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this +eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to +the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of +obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain +Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from the +use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method you +already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to the +owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has agreed to donate +royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60 days following each +date on which you prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your +periodic tax returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such +and sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the +address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to the +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.” + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies you +in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he does not +agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm License. You must +require such a user to return or destroy all copies of the works +possessed in a physical medium and discontinue all use of and all access +to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any +money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the +electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of +receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free +distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set forth +in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from both the +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael Hart, the +owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as +set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm collection. +Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, and the +medium on which they may be stored, may contain “Defects,” such as, but +not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription +errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a +defective or damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees. +YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT LIABILITY, +BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED IN +PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE TRADEMARK OWNER, AND +ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE LIABLE TO YOU FOR +ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES +EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’ WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm’s +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will remain +freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. To +learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and +how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the +Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the state +of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal Revenue +Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification number is +64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. + +The Foundation’s principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 +North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation’s web site and official page +at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: Dr. Gregory B. Newby Chief Executive +and Director gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide spread +public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing the +number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely +distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest array of +equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to +$5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status with +the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations where +we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state +visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make any +statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from outside +the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other ways +including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To donate, +please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. unless +a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks +in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + +http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, including +how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe to +our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + |