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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/422-h.zip b/422-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7df6d1b --- /dev/null +++ b/422-h.zip diff --git a/422-h/422-h.htm b/422-h/422-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2d73577 --- /dev/null +++ b/422-h/422-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,16649 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>The Romany Rye</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4 { + text-align: left; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + TD { vertical-align: top; } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + color: gray;} + + .citation {vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h2> +<a href="#startoftext">The Romany Rye, by George Borrow</a> +</h2> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Romany Rye, by George Borrow + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Romany Rye + + +Author: George Borrow + + + +Release Date: April 5, 2007 [eBook #422] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ROMANY RYE*** +</pre> + + +<h4>There are several editions of this ebook in the Project Gutenberg collection. Various characteristics of each ebook are listed to aid in selecting the preferred file.<br />Click on any of the filenumbers below to quickly view each ebook. +</h4> + + +<table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> + +<tr><td> + <b><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/21206/21206-h/21206-h.htm"> +21206</a> </b> </td><td>(Plain HTML file) +</td></tr> + +<tr><td> + <b><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/25071/25071-h/25071-h.htm"> +25071</a></b></td><td>(Plain HTML file) +</td></tr> + +<tr><td> + <b><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/422/422-h/422-h.htm"> +422</a></b> </td><td>(Plain HTML file) +</td></tr> + +<tr><td> + <b><a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/54048/54048-h/54048-h.htm"> +54048</a></b> </td><td>(Illustrated HTML file) +</td></tr> + +</table> + + +<p><a name="startoftext"></a></p> +<p>Transcribed from the 1907 J. M. Dent Edition by David Price, +email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk</p> +<h1>THE ROMANY RYE</h1> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +<p>The Making of the Linch-pin—The Sound +Sleeper—Breakfast—The Postillion’s +Departure.</p> +<p>I awoke at the first break of day, and, leaving the postillion +fast asleep, stepped out of the tent. The dingle was dank +and dripping. I lighted a fire of coals, and got my forge +in readiness. I then ascended to the field, where the +chaise was standing as we had left it on the previous +evening. After looking at the cloud-stone near it, now +cold, and split into three pieces, I set about prying narrowly +into the condition of the wheel and axletree—the latter had +sustained no damage of any consequence, and the wheel, as far as +I was able to judge, was sound, being only slightly injured in +the box. The only thing requisite to set the chaise in a +travelling condition appeared to be a linch-pin, which I +determined to make. Going to the companion wheel, I took +out the linch-pin, which I carried down with me to the dingle, to +serve as a model.</p> +<p>I found Belle by this time dressed, and seated near the forge: +with a slight nod to her like that which a person gives who +happens to see an acquaintance when his mind is occupied with +important business, I forthwith set about my work. +Selecting a piece of iron which I thought would serve my purpose, +I placed it in the fire, and plying the bellows in a furious +manner, soon made it hot; then seizing it with the tongs, I laid +it on my anvil, and began to beat it with my hammer, according to +the rules of my art. The dingle resounded with my +strokes. Belle sat still, and occasionally smiled, but +suddenly started up, and retreated towards her encampment, on a +spark which I purposely sent in her direction alighting on her +knee. I found the making of a linch-pin no easy matter; it +was, however, less difficult than the fabrication of a pony-shoe; +my work, indeed, was much facilitated by my having another pin to +look at. In about three-quarters of an hour I had succeeded +tolerably well, and had produced a linch-pin which I thought +would serve. During all this time, notwithstanding the +noise which I was making, the postillion never showed his +face. His non-appearance at first alarmed me: I was afraid +he might be dead, but, on looking into the tent, I found him +still buried in the soundest sleep. “He must surely +be descended from one of the seven sleepers,” said I, as I +turned away, and resumed my work. My work finished, I took +a little oil, leather, and sand, and polished the pin as well as +I could; then, summoning Belle, we both went to the chaise, +where, with her assistance, I put on the wheel. The +linch-pin which I had made fitted its place very well, and having +replaced the other, I gazed at the chaise for some time with my +heart full of that satisfaction which results from the +consciousness of having achieved a great action; then, after +looking at Belle in the hope of obtaining a compliment from her +lips, which did not come, I returned to the dingle, without +saying a word, followed by her. Belle set about making +preparations for breakfast; and I taking the kettle, went and +filled it at the spring. Having hung it over the fire, I +went to the tent in which the postillion was still sleeping, and +called upon him to arise. He awoke with a start, and stared +around him at first with the utmost surprise, not unmixed, I +could observe, with a certain degree of fear. At last, +looking in my face, he appeared to recollect himself. +“I had quite forgot,” said he, as he got up, +“where I was, and all that happened yesterday. +However, I remember now the whole affair, thunder-storm, +thunder-bolt, frightened horses, and all your kindness. +Come, I must see after my coach and horses; I hope we shall be +able to repair the damage.” “The damage is +already quite repaired,” said I, “as you will see, if +you come to the field above.” “You don’t +say so,” said the postillion, coming out of the tent; +“well, I am mightily beholden to you. Good morning, +young gentle-woman,” said he, addressing Belle, who, having +finished her preparations, was seated near the fire. +“Good morning, young man,” said Belle, “I +suppose you would be glad of some breakfast; however, you must +wait a little, the kettle does not boil.” “Come +and look at your chaise,” said I; “but tell me how it +happened that the noise which I have been making did not awake +you; for three-quarters of an hour at least I was hammering close +at your ear.” “I heard you all the time,” +said the postillion, “but your hammering made me sleep all +the sounder; I am used to hear hammering in my morning +sleep. There’s a forge close by the room where I +sleep when I’m at home, at my inn; for we have all kinds of +conveniences at my inn—forge, carpenter’s shop, and +wheel-wright’s,—so that when I heard you hammering I +thought, no doubt, that it was the old noise, and that I was +comfortable in my bed at my own inn.” We now ascended +to the field, where I showed the postillion his chaise. He +looked at the pin attentively, rubbed his hands, and gave a loud +laugh. “Is it not well done?” said I. +“It will do till I get home,” he replied. +“And that is all you have to say?” I demanded. +“And that’s a good deal,” said he, +“considering who made it. But don’t be +offended,” he added, “I shall prize it all the more +for its being made by a gentleman, and no blacksmith; and so will +my governor, when I show it to him. I shan’t let it +remain where it is, but will keep it, as a remembrance of you, as +long as I live.” He then again rubbed his hands with +great glee, and said, “I will now go and see after my +horses, and then to breakfast, partner, if you +please.” Suddenly, however, looking at his hands, he +said, “Before sitting down to breakfast I am in the habit +of washing my hands and face: I suppose you could not furnish me +with a little soap and water.” “As much water +as you please,” said I, “but if you want soap, I must +go and trouble the young gentle-woman for some.” +“By no means,” said the postillion, “water will +do at a pinch.” “Follow me,” said I, and +leading him to the pond of the frogs and newts, I said, +“this is my ewer; you are welcome to part of it—the +water is so soft that it is scarcely necessary to add soap to +it;” then lying down on the bank, I plunged my head into +the water, then scrubbed my hands and face, and afterwards wiped +them with some long grass which grew on the margin of the +pond. “Bravo,” said the postillion, “I +see you know how to make a shift:” he then followed my +example, declared he never felt more refreshed in his life, and, +giving a bound, said, “he would go and look after his +horses.”</p> +<p>We then went to look after the horses, which we found not much +the worse for having spent the night in the open air. My +companion again inserted their heads in the corn-bags, and, +leaving the animals to discuss their corn, returned with me to +the dingle, where we found the kettle boiling. We sat down, +and Belle made tea and did the honours of the meal. The +postillion was in high spirits, ate heartily, and, to +Belle’s evident satisfaction, declared that he had never +drank better tea in his life, or indeed any half so good. +Breakfast over, he said that he must now go and harness his +horses, as it was high time for him to return to his inn. +Belle gave him her hand and wished him farewell: the postillion +shook her hand warmly, and was advancing close up to +her—for what purpose I cannot say—whereupon Belle, +withdrawing her hand, drew herself up with an air which caused +the postillion to retreat a step or two with an exceedingly +sheepish look. Recovering himself, however, he made a low +bow, and proceeded up the path. I attended him, and helped +to harness his horses and put them to the vehicle; he then shook +me by the hand, and taking the reins and whip, mounted to his +seat; ere he drove away he thus addressed me: “If ever I +forget your kindness and that of the young woman below, dash my +buttons. If ever either of you should enter my inn you may +depend upon a warm welcome, the best that can be set before you, +and no expense to either, for I will give both of you the best of +characters to the governor, who is the very best fellow upon all +the road. As for your linch-pin, I trust it will serve till +I get home, when I will take it out and keep it in remembrance of +you all the days of my life:” then giving the horses a jerk +with his reins, he cracked his whip and drove off.</p> +<p>I returned to the dingle, Belle had removed the breakfast +things, and was busy in her own encampment: nothing occurred, +worthy of being related, for two hours, at the end of which time +Belle departed on a short expedition, and I again found myself +alone in the dingle.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> +<p>The Man in Black—The Emperor of +Germany—Nepotism—Donna +Olympia—Omnipotence—Camillo Astalli—The Five +Propositions.</p> +<p>In the evening I received another visit from the man in +black. I had been taking a stroll in the neighbourhood, and +was sitting in the dingle in rather a listless manner, scarcely +knowing how to employ myself; his coming, therefore, was by no +means disagreeable to me. I produced the hollands and glass +from my tent, where Isopel Berners had requested me to deposit +them, and also some lump sugar, then taking the gotch I fetched +water from the spring, and, sitting down, begged the man in black +to help himself; he was not slow in complying with my desire, and +prepared for himself a glass of hollands and water with a lump of +sugar in it. After he had taken two or three sips with +evident satisfaction, I, remembering his chuckling exclamation of +“Go to Rome for money,” when he last left the dingle, +took the liberty, after a little conversation, of reminding him +of it, whereupon, with a he! he! he! he replied, “Your idea +was not quite so original as I supposed. After leaving you +the other night, I remembered having read of an Emperor of +Germany who conceived the idea of applying to Rome for money, and +actually put it into practice.</p> +<p>“Urban the Eighth then occupied the papal chair, of the +family of the Barbarini, nicknamed the Mosche, or Flies, from the +circumstance of bees being their armorial bearing. The +Emperor having exhausted all his money in endeavouring to defend +the church against Gustavus Adolphus, the great King of Sweden, +who was bent on its destruction, applied in his necessity to the +Pope for a loan of money. The Pope, however, and his +relations, whose cellars were at that time full of the money of +the church, which they had been plundering for years, refused to +lend him a scudo; whereupon a pasquinade picture was stuck up at +Rome, representing the church lying on a bed, gashed with +dreadful wounds, and beset all over with flies, which were +sucking her, whilst the Emperor of Germany was kneeling before +her with a miserable face, requesting a little money towards +carrying on the war against the heretics, to which the poor +church was made to say: ‘How can I assist you, O my +champion, do you not see that the flies have sucked me to the +very bones?’ Which story,” said he, +“shows that the idea of going to Rome for money was not +quite so original as I imagined the other night, though utterly +preposterous.</p> +<p>“This affair,” said he, “occurred in what +were called the days of nepotism. Certain popes, who wished +to make themselves in some degree independent of the cardinals, +surrounded themselves with their nephews and the rest of their +family, who sucked the church and Christendom as much as they +could, none doing so more effectually than the relations of Urban +the Eighth, at whose death, according to the book called the +‘Nipotismo di Roma,’ there were in the Barbarini +family two hundred and twenty-seven governments, abbeys and high +dignities; and so much hard cash in their possession, that +threescore and ten mules were scarcely sufficient to convey the +plunder of one of them to Palestrina.” He added, +however, that it was probable that Christendom fared better +whilst the popes were thus independent, as it was less sucked, +whereas before and after that period it was sucked by hundreds +instead of tens, by the cardinals and all their relations, +instead of by the pope and his nephews only.</p> +<p>Then, after drinking rather copiously of his hollands, he said +that it was certainly no bad idea of the popes to surround +themselves with nephews, on whom they bestowed great church +dignities, as by so doing they were tolerably safe from poison, +whereas a pope, if abandoned to the cardinals, might at any time +be made away with by them, provided they thought that he lived +too long, or that he seemed disposed to do anything which they +disliked; adding, that Ganganelli would never have been poisoned +provided he had had nephews about him to take care of his life, +and to see that nothing unholy was put into his food, or a +bustling stirring brother’s wife like Donna Olympia. +He then with a he! he! he! asked me if I had ever read the book +called the “Nipotismo di Roma”; and on my replying in +the negative, he told me that it was a very curious and +entertaining book, which he occasionally looked at in an idle +hour, and proceeded to relate to me anecdotes out of the +“Nipotismo di Roma,” about the successor of Urban, +Innocent the Tenth, and Donna Olympia, showing how fond he was of +her, and how she cooked his food, and kept the cardinals away +from it, and how she and her creatures plundered Christendom, +with the sanction of the Pope, until Christendom, becoming +enraged, insisted that he should put her away, which he did for a +time, putting a nephew—one Camillo Astalli—in her +place, in which, however, he did not continue long; for the Pope, +conceiving a pique against him, banished him from his sight, and +recalled Donna Olympia, who took care of his food, and plundered +Christendom until Pope Innocent died.</p> +<p>I said that I only wondered that between pope and cardinals +the whole system of Rome had not long fallen to the ground, and +was told, in reply, that its not having fallen was the strongest +proof of its vital power, and the absolute necessity for the +existence of the system. That the system, notwithstanding +its occasional disorders, went on. Popes and cardinals +might prey upon its bowels, and sell its interests, but the +system survived. The cutting off of this or that member was +not able to cause Rome any vital loss; for, as soon as she lost a +member, the loss was supplied by her own inherent vitality; +though her popes had been poisoned by cardinals, and her +cardinals by popes; and though priests occasionally poisoned +popes, cardinals, and each other, after all that had been, and +might be, she had still, and would ever have, her priests, +cardinals, and pope.</p> +<p>Finding the man in black so communicative and reasonable, I +determined to make the best of my opportunity, and learn from him +all I could with respect to the papal system, and told him that +he would particularly oblige me by telling me who the Pope of +Rome was; and received for answer, that he was an old man elected +by a majority of cardinals to the papal chair; who, immediately +after his election, became omnipotent and equal to God on +earth. On my begging him not to talk such nonsense, and +asking him how a person could be omnipotent who could not always +preserve himself from poison, even when fenced round by nephews, +or protected by a bustling woman, he, after taking a long sip of +hollands and water, told me that I must not expect too much from +omnipotence; for example, that as it would be unreasonable to +expect that One above could annihilate the past—for +instance, the Seven Years’ War, or the French +Revolution—though any one who believed in Him would +acknowledge Him to be omnipotent, so would it be unreasonable for +the faithful to expect that the Pope could always guard himself +from poison. Then, after looking at me for a moment +stedfastly, and taking another sip, he told me that popes had +frequently done impossibilities; for example, Innocent the Tenth +had created a nephew; for, not liking particularly any of his +real nephews, he had created the said Camillo Astalli his nephew; +asking me, with a he! he! “What but omnipotence could +make a young man nephew to a person to whom he was not in the +slightest degree related?” On my observing that of +course no one believed that the young fellow was really the +Pope’s nephew, though the Pope might have adopted him as +such, the man in black replied, “that the reality of the +nephewship of Camillo Astalli had hitherto never become a point +of faith; let, however, the present pope, or any other pope, +proclaim that it is necessary to believe in the reality of the +nephewship of Camillo Astalli, and see whether the faithful would +not believe in it. Who can doubt that,” he added, +“seeing that they believe in the reality of the five +propositions of Jansenius? The Jesuits, wishing to ruin the +Jansenists, induced a pope to declare that such and such damnable +opinions, which they called five propositions, were to be found +in a book written by Jansen, though, in reality, no such +propositions were to be found there; whereupon the existence of +these propositions became forthwith a point of faith to the +faithful. Do you then think,” he demanded, +“that there is one of the faithful who would not swallow, +if called upon, the nephewship of Camillo Astalli as easily as +the five propositions of Jansenius?” “Surely, +then,” said I, “the faithful must be a pretty pack of +simpletons!” Whereupon the man in black exclaimed, +“What! a Protestant, and an infringer of the rights of +faith! Here’s a fellow, who would feel himself +insulted if any one were to ask him how he could believe in the +miraculous conception, calling people simpletons who swallow the +five propositions of Jansenius, and are disposed, if called upon, +to swallow the reality of the nephewship of Camillo +Astalli.”</p> +<p>I was about to speak, when I was interrupted by the arrival of +Belle. After unharnessing her donkey, and adjusting her +person a little, she came and sat down by us. In the +meantime I had helped my companion to some more hollands and +water, and had plunged with him into yet deeper discourse.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> +<p>Necessity of Religion—The Great Indian +One—Image-worship—Shakespeare—The Pat +Answer—Krishna—Amen.</p> +<p>Having told the man in black that I should like to know all +the truth with regard to the Pope and his system, he assured me +he should be delighted to give me all the information in his +power; that he had come to the dingle, not so much for the sake +of the good cheer which I was in the habit of giving him, as in +the hope of inducing me to enlist under the banners of Rome, and +to fight in her cause; and that he had no doubt that, by speaking +out frankly to me, he ran the best chance of winning me over.</p> +<p>He then proceeded to tell me that the experience of countless +ages had proved the necessity of religion; the necessity, he +would admit, was only for simpletons; but as nine-tenths of the +dwellers upon this earth were simpletons, it would never do for +sensible people to run counter to their folly, but, on the +contrary, it was their wisest course to encourage them in it, +always provided that, by so doing, sensible people would derive +advantage; that the truly sensible people of this world were the +priests, who, without caring a straw for religion for its own +sake, made use of it as a cord by which to draw the simpletons +after them; that there were many religions in this world, all of +which had been turned to excellent account by the priesthood; but +that the one the best adapted for the purposes of priestcraft was +the popish, which, he said, was the oldest in the world and the +best calculated to endure. On my inquiring what he meant by +saying the popish religion was the oldest in the world, whereas +there could be no doubt that the Greek and Roman religion had +existed long before it, to say nothing of the old Indian religion +still in existence and vigour; he said, with a nod, after taking +a sip at his glass, that, between me and him, the popish +religion, that of Greece and Rome, and the old Indian system +were, in reality, one and the same.</p> +<p>“You told me that you intended to be frank,” said +I; “but, however frank you may be, I think you are rather +wild.”</p> +<p>“We priests of Rome,” said the man in black, +“even those amongst us who do not go much abroad, know a +great deal about church matters, of which you heretics have very +little idea. Those of our brethren of the Propaganda, on +their return home from distant missions, not unfrequently tell us +very strange things relating to our dear mother; for example, our +first missionaries to the East were not slow in discovering and +telling to their brethren that our religion and the great Indian +one were identical, no more difference between them than between +Ram and Rome. Priests, convents, beads, prayers, +processions, fastings, penances, all the same, not forgetting +anchorites and vermin, he! he! The pope they found under +the title of the grand lama, a sucking child surrounded by an +immense number of priests. Our good brethren, some two +hundred years ago, had a hearty laugh, which their successors +have often re-echoed; they said that helpless suckling and its +priests put them so much in mind of their own old man, surrounded +by his cardinals, he! he! Old age is second +childhood.”</p> +<p>“Did they find Christ?” said I.</p> +<p>“They found him too,” said the man in black, +“that is, they saw his image; he is considered in India as +a pure kind of being, and on that account, perhaps, is kept there +rather in the background, even as he is here.”</p> +<p>“All this is very mysterious to me,” said I.</p> +<p>“Very likely,” said the man in black; “but +of this I am tolerably sure, and so are most of those of Rome, +that modern Rome had its religion from ancient Rome, which had +its religion from the East.”</p> +<p>“But how?” I demanded.</p> +<p>“It was brought about, I believe, by the wanderings of +nations,” said the man in black. “A brother of +the Propaganda, a very learned man, once told me—I do not +mean Mezzofanti, who has not five ideas—this brother once +told me that all we of the Old World, from Calcutta to Dublin, +are of the same stock, and were originally of the same language, +and—”</p> +<p>“All of one religion,” I put in.</p> +<p>“All of one religion,” said the man in black; +“and now follow different modifications of the same +religion.”</p> +<p>“We Christians are not image-worshippers,” said +I.</p> +<p>“You heretics are not, you mean,” said the man in +black; “but you will be put down, just as you have always +been, though others may rise up after you; the true religion is +image-worship; people may strive against it, but they will only +work themselves to an oil; how did it fare with that Greek +Emperor, the Iconoclast, what was his name, Leon the +Isaurian? Did not his image-breaking cost him Italy, the +fairest province of his empire, and did not ten fresh images +start up at home for every one which he demolished? Oh! you +little know the craving which the soul sometimes feels after a +good bodily image.”</p> +<p>“I have indeed no conception of it,” said I; +“I have an abhorrence of idolatry—the idea of bowing +before a graven figure!”</p> +<p>“The idea, indeed!” said Belle, who had now joined +us.</p> +<p>“Did you never bow before that of Shakespeare?” +said the man in black, addressing himself to me, after a low bow +to Belle.</p> +<p>“I don’t remember that I ever did,” said I, +“but even suppose I did?”</p> +<p>“Suppose you did,” said the man in black; +“shame on you, Mr. Hater of Idolatry; why, the very +supposition brings you to the ground; you must make figures of +Shakespeare, must you? then why not of St. Antonio, or Ignacio, +or of a greater personage still! I know what you are going +to say,” he cried, interrupting me, as I was about to +speak. “You don’t make his image in order to +pay it divine honours, but only to look at it, and think of +Shakespeare; but this looking at a thing in order to think of a +person is the very basis of idolatry. Shakespeare’s +works are not sufficient for you; no more are the Bible or the +legend of Saint Anthony or Saint Ignacio for us, that is for +those of us who believe in them; I tell you, Zingara, that no +religion can exist long which rejects a good bodily +image.”</p> +<p>“Do you think,” said I, “that +Shakespeare’s works would not exist without his +image?”</p> +<p>“I believe,” said the man in black, “that +Shakespeare’s image is looked at more than his works, and +will be looked at, and perhaps adored, when they are +forgotten. I am surprised that they have not been forgotten +long ago; I am no admirer of them.”</p> +<p>“But I can’t imagine,” said I, “how +you will put aside the authority of Moses. If Moses strove +against image-worship, should not his doing so be conclusive as +to the impropriety of the practice; what higher authority can you +have than that of Moses?”</p> +<p>“The practice of the great majority of the human +race,” said the man in black, “and the recurrence to +image-worship where image-worship has been abolished. Do +you know that Moses is considered by the church as no better than +a heretic, and though, for particular reasons, it has been +obliged to adopt his writings, the adoption was merely a sham +one, as it never paid the slightest attention to them? No, +no, the church was never led by Moses, nor by one mightier than +he, whose doctrine it has equally nullified—I allude to +Krishna in his second avatar; the church, it is true, governs in +his name, but not unfrequently gives him the lie, if he happens +to have said anything which it dislikes. Did you never hear +the reply which Padre Paolo Segani made to the French Protestant +Jean Anthoine Guerin, who had asked him whether it was easier for +Christ to have been mistaken in his Gospel, than for the Pope to +be mistaken in his decrees?”</p> +<p>“I never heard their names before,” said I.</p> +<p>“The answer was pat,” said the man in black, +“though he who made it was confessedly the most ignorant +fellow of the very ignorant order to which he belonged, the +Augustine. ‘Christ might err as a man,’ said +he, ‘but the Pope can never err, being God.’ +The whole story is related in the Nipotismo.”</p> +<p>“I wonder you should ever have troubled yourself with +Christ at all,” said I.</p> +<p>“What was to be done?” said the man in black; +“the power of that name suddenly came over Europe, like the +power of a mighty wind; it was said to have come from Judea, and +from Judea it probably came when it first began to agitate minds +in these parts; but it seems to have been known in the remote +East, more or less, for thousands of years previously. It +filled people’s minds with madness; it was followed by +books which were never much regarded, as they contained little of +insanity; but the name! what fury that breathed into people! the +books were about peace and gentleness, but the name was the most +horrible of war-cries—those who wished to uphold old names +at first strove to oppose it, but their efforts were feeble, and +they had no good war-cry; what was Mars as a war-cry compared +with the name of . . . ? It was said that they persecuted +terribly, but who said so? The Christians. The +Christians could have given them a lesson in the art of +persecution, and eventually did so. None but Christians +have ever been good persecutors; well, the old religion +succumbed, Christianity prevailed, for the ferocious is sure to +prevail over the gentle.”</p> +<p>“I thought,” said I, “you stated a little +time ago that the Popish religion and the ancient Roman are the +same?”</p> +<p>“In every point but that name, that Krishna and the fury +and love of persecution which it inspired,” said the man in +black. “A hot blast came from the East, sounding +Krishna; it absolutely maddened people’s minds, and the +people would call themselves his children; we will not belong to +Jupiter any longer, we will belong to Krishna, and they did +belong to Krishna; that is in name, but in nothing else; for who +ever cared for Krishna in the Christian world, or who ever +regarded the words attributed to him, or put them in +practice?”</p> +<p>“Why, we Protestants regard his words, and endeavour to +practise what they enjoin as much as possible.”</p> +<p>“But you reject his image,” said the man in black; +“better reject his words than his image: no religion can +exist long which rejects a good bodily image. Why, the very +negro barbarians of High Barbary could give you a lesson on that +point; they have their fetish images, to which they look for help +in their afflictions; they have likewise a high priest, whom they +call—”</p> +<p>“Mumbo Jumbo,” said I; “I know all about him +already.”</p> +<p>“How came you to know anything about him?” said +the man in black, with a look of some surprise.</p> +<p>“Some of us poor Protestants tinkers,” said I, +“though we live in dingles, are also acquainted with a +thing or two.”</p> +<p>“I really believe you are,” said the man in black, +staring at me; “but, in connection with this Mumbo Jumbo, I +could relate to you a comical story about a fellow, an English +servant, I once met at Rome.”</p> +<p>“It would be quite unnecessary,” said I; “I +would much sooner hear you talk about Krishna, his words and +image.”</p> +<p>“Spoken like a true heretic,” said the man in +black; “one of the faithful would have placed his image +before his words; for what are all the words in the world +compared with a good bodily image!”</p> +<p>“I believe you occasionally quote his words?” said +I.</p> +<p>“He! he!” said the man in black; +“occasionally.”</p> +<p>“For example,” said I, “upon this rock I +will found my church.”</p> +<p>“He! he!” said the man in black; “you must +really become one of us.”</p> +<p>“Yet you must have had some difficulty in getting the +rock to Rome?”</p> +<p>“None whatever,” said the man in black; +“faith can remove mountains, to say nothing of +rocks—ho! ho!”</p> +<p>“But I cannot imagine,” said I, “what +advantage you could derive from perverting those words of +Scripture in which the Saviour talks about eating his +body.”</p> +<p>“I do not know, indeed, why we troubled our heads about +the matter at all,” said the man in black; “but when +you talk about perverting the meaning of the text, you speak +ignorantly, Mr. Tinker; when he whom you call the Saviour gave +his followers the sop, and bade them eat it, telling them it was +his body, he delicately alluded to what it was incumbent upon +them to do after his death, namely, to eat his body.”</p> +<p>“You do not mean to say that he intended they should +actually eat his body?”</p> +<p>“Then you suppose ignorantly,” said the man in +black; “eating the bodies of the dead was a heathenish +custom, practised by the heirs and legatees of people who left +property; and this custom is alluded to in the text.”</p> +<p>“But what has the New Testament to do with heathen +customs,” said I, “except to destroy them?”</p> +<p>“More than you suppose,” said the man in +black. “We priests of Rome, who have long lived at +Rome, know much better what the New Testament is made of than the +heretics and their theologians, not forgetting their Tinkers; +though I confess some of the latter have occasionally surprised +us—for example, Bunyan. The New Testament is crowded +with allusions to heathen customs, and with words connected with +pagan sorcery. Now, with respect to words, I would fain +have you, who pretend to be a philologist, tell me the meaning of +Amen.”</p> +<p>I made no answer.</p> +<p>“We of Rome,” said the man in black, “know +two or three things of which the heretics are quite ignorant; for +example, there are those amongst us—those, too, who do not +pretend to be philologists—who know what Amen is, and, +moreover, how we got it. We got it from our ancestors, the +priests of ancient Rome; and they got the word from their +ancestors of the East, the priests of Buddh and +Brahma.”</p> +<p>“And what is the meaning of the word?” I +demanded.</p> +<p>“Amen,” said the man in black, “is a +modification of the old Hindoo formula, Omani batsikhom, by the +almost ceaseless repetition of which the Indians hope to be +received finally to the rest or state of forgetfulness of Buddh +or Brahma; a foolish practice you will say, but are you heretics +much wiser, who are continually sticking Amen to the end of your +prayers, little knowing when you do so, that you are consigning +yourselves to the repose of Buddh! Oh, what hearty laughs +our missionaries have had when comparing the eternally-sounding +Eastern gibberish of Omani batsikhom, Omani batsikhom, and the +Ave Maria and Amen Jesus of our own idiotical +devotees.”</p> +<p>“I have nothing to say about the Ave Marias and Amens of +your superstitious devotees,” said I; “I dare say +that they use them nonsensically enough, but in putting Amen to +the end of a prayer, we merely intend to express, ‘So let +it be.’”</p> +<p>“It means nothing of the kind,” said the man in +black; “and the Hindoos might just as well put your +national oath at the end of their prayers, as perhaps they will +after a great many thousand years, when English is forgotten, and +only a few words of it remembered by dim tradition without being +understood. How strange if, after the lapse of four +thousand years, the Hindoos should damn themselves to the +blindness so dear to their present masters, even as their masters +at present consign themselves to the forgetfulness so dear to the +Hindoos; but my glass has been empty for a considerable time; +perhaps, Bellissima Biondina,” said he, addressing Belle, +“you will deign to replenish it?”</p> +<p>“I shall do no such thing,” said Belle, “you +have drunk quite enough, and talked more than enough, and to tell +you the truth I wish you would leave us alone.”</p> +<p>“Shame on you, Belle,” said I; “consider the +obligations of hospitality.”</p> +<p>“I am sick of that word,” said Belle, “you +are so frequently misusing it; were this place not Mumpers’ +Dingle, and consequently as free to the fellow as ourselves, I +would lead him out of it.”</p> +<p>“Pray be quiet, Belle,” said I. “You +had better help yourself,” said I, addressing myself to the +man in black, “the lady is angry with you.”</p> +<p>“I am sorry for it,” said the man in black; +“if she is angry with me, I am not so with her, and shall +be always proud to wait upon her; in the meantime, I will wait +upon myself.”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<p>The Proposal—The Scotch +Novel—Latitude—Miracles—Pestilent +Heretics—Old Fraser—Wonderful Texts—No +Armenian.</p> +<p>The man in black having helped himself to some more of his +favourite beverage, and tasted it, I thus addressed him: +“The evening is getting rather advanced, and I can see that +this lady,” pointing to Belle, “is anxious for her +tea, which she prefers to take cosily and comfortably with me in +the dingle: the place, it is true, is as free to you as to +ourselves, nevertheless, as we are located here by necessity, +whilst you merely come as a visitor, I must take the liberty of +telling you that we shall be glad to be alone, as soon as you +have said what you have to say, and have finished the glass of +refreshment at present in your hand. I think you said some +time ago that one of your motives for coming hither was to induce +me to enlist under the banner of Rome. I wish to know +whether that was really the case?”</p> +<p>“Decidedly so,” said the man in black; “I +come here principally in the hope of enlisting you in our +regiment, in which I have no doubt you could do us excellent +service.”</p> +<p>“Would you enlist my companion as well?” I +demanded.</p> +<p>“We should be only too proud to have her among us, +whether she comes with you or alone,” said the man in +black, with a polite bow to Belle.</p> +<p>“Before we give you an answer,” I replied, +“I would fain know more about you; perhaps you will declare +your name?”</p> +<p>“That I will never do,” said the man in black; +“no one in England knows it but myself, and I will not +declare it, even in a dingle; as for the rest, <i>Sono un Prete +Cattolico Appostolico</i>—that is all that many a one of us +can say for himself, and it assuredly means a great +deal.”</p> +<p>“We will now proceed to business,” said I. +“You must be aware that we English are generally considered +a self-interested people.”</p> +<p>“And with considerable justice,” said the man in +black, drinking. “Well, you are a person of acute +perception, and I will presently make it evident to you that it +would be to your interest to join with us. You are at +present, evidently, in very needy circumstances, and are lost, +not only to yourself, but to the world; but should you enlist +with us, I could find you an occupation not only agreeable, but +one in which your talents would have free scope. I would +introduce you in the various grand houses here in England, to +which I have myself admission, as a surprising young gentleman of +infinite learning, who by dint of study has discovered that the +Roman is the only true faith. I tell you confidently that +our popish females would make a saint, nay, a God of you; they +are fools enough for anything. There is one person in +particular with whom I would wish to make you acquainted, in the +hope that you would be able to help me to perform good service to +the holy see. He is a gouty old fellow, of some learning, +residing in an old hall, near the great western seaport, and is +one of the very few amongst the English Catholics possessing a +grain of sense. I think you could help us to govern him, +for he is not unfrequently disposed to be restive, asks us +strange questions—occasionally threatens us with his +crutch; and behaves so that we are often afraid that we shall +lose him, or, rather, his property, which he has bequeathed to +us, and which is enormous. I am sure that you could help us +to deal with him; sometimes with your humour, sometimes with your +learning, and perhaps occasionally with your fists.”</p> +<p>“And in what manner would you provide for my +companion?” said I.</p> +<p>“We would place her at once,” said the man in +black, “in the house of two highly respectable Catholic +ladies in this neighbourhood, where she would be treated with +every care and consideration till her conversion should be +accomplished in a regular manner; we would then remove her to a +female monastic establishment, where, after undergoing a +year’s probation, during which time she would be instructed +in every elegant accomplishment, she should take the veil. +Her advancement would speedily follow, for, with such a face and +figure, she would make a capital lady abbess, especially in +Italy, to which country she would probably be sent; ladies of her +hair and complexion—to say nothing of her +height—being a curiosity in the south. With a little +care and management she could soon obtain a vast reputation for +sanctity; and who knows but after her death she might become a +glorified saint—he! he! Sister Maria Theresa, for +that is the name I propose you should bear. Holy Mother +Maria Theresa—glorified and celestial saint, I have the +honour of drinking to your health,” and the man in black +drank.</p> +<p>“Well, Belle,” said I, “what have you to say +to the gentleman’s proposal?”</p> +<p>“That if he goes on in this way I will break his glass +against his mouth.”</p> +<p>“You have heard the lady’s answer,” said +I.</p> +<p>“I have,” said the man in black, “and shall +not press the matter. I can’t help, however, +repeating that she would make a capital lady abbess; she would +keep the nuns in order, I warrant her; no easy matter! +Break the glass against my mouth—he! he! How she +would send the holy utensils flying at the nuns’ heads +occasionally, and just the person to wring the nose of Satan, +should he venture to appear one night in her cell in the shape of +a handsome black man. No offence, madam, no offence, pray +retain your seat,” said he, observing that Belle had +started up; “I mean no offence. Well, if you will not +consent to be an abbess, perhaps you will consent to follow this +young Zingaro, and to co-operate with him and us. I am a +priest, madam, and can join you both in an instant, <i>connubio +stabili</i>, as I suppose the knot has not been tied +already.”</p> +<p>“Hold your mumping gibberish,” said Belle, +“and leave the dingle this moment, for though ’tis +free to every one, you have no right to insult me in +it.”</p> +<p>“Pray be pacified,” said I to Belle, getting up, +and placing myself between her and the man in black, “he +will presently leave, take my word for it—there, sit down +again,” said I, as I led her to her seat; then, resuming my +own, I said to the man in black: “I advise you to leave the +dingle as soon as possible.”</p> +<p>“I should wish to have your answer to my proposal +first,” said he.</p> +<p>“Well, then, here you shall have it: I will not +entertain your proposal; I detest your schemes: they are both +wicked and foolish.”</p> +<p>“Wicked,” said the man in black, “have they +not—he! he!—the furtherance of religion in +view?”</p> +<p>“A religion,” said I, “in which you yourself +do not believe, and which you contemn.”</p> +<p>“Whether I believe in it or not,” said the man in +black, “it is adapted for the generality of the human race; +so I will forward it, and advise you to do the same. It was +nearly extirpated in these regions, but it is springing up again, +owing to circumstances. Radicalism is a good friend to us; +all the liberals laud up our system out of hatred to the +Established Church, though our system is ten times less liberal +than the Church of England. Some of them have really come +over to us. I myself confess a baronet who presided over +the first radical meeting ever held in England—he was an +atheist when he came over to us, in the hope of mortifying his +own church—but he is now—ho! ho!—a real +Catholic devotee—quite afraid of my threats; I make him +frequently scourge himself before me. Well, Radicalism does +us good service, especially amongst the lower classes, for +Radicalism chiefly flourishes amongst them; for though a baronet +or two may be found amongst the radicals, and perhaps as many +lords—fellows who have been discarded by their own order +for clownishness, or something they have done—it +incontestably flourishes best among the lower orders. Then +the love of what is foreign is a great friend to us; this love is +chiefly confined to the middle and upper classes. Some +admire the French, and imitate them; others must needs be +Spaniards, dress themselves up in a zamarra, stick a cigar in +their mouth, and say, ‘Carajo.’ Others would +pass for Germans; he! he! the idea of any one wishing to pass for +a German! but what has done us more service than anything else in +these regions—I mean amidst the middle classes—has +been the novel, the Scotch novel. The good folks, since +they have read the novels, have become Jacobites; and, because +all the Jacobs were Papists, the good folks must become Papists +also, or, at least, papistically inclined. The very Scotch +Presbyterians, since they have read the novels, are become all +but Papists; I speak advisedly, having lately been amongst +them. There’s a trumpery bit of a half papist sect, +called the Scotch Episcopalian Church, which lay dormant and +nearly forgotten for upwards of a hundred years, which has of +late got wonderfully into fashion in Scotland, because, forsooth, +some of the long-haired gentry of the novels were said to belong +to it, such as Montrose and Dundee; and to this the Presbyterians +are going over in throngs, traducing and vilifying their own +forefathers, or denying them altogether, and calling themselves +descendants of—ho! ho! ho!—Scottish +Cavaliers!!! I have heard them myself repeating snatches of +Jacobite ditties about ‘Bonnie Dundee,’ +and—</p> +<blockquote><p>“‘Come, fill up my cup, and fill up my +can,<br /> +And saddle my horse, and call up my man.’</p> +</blockquote> +<p>There’s stuff for you! Not that I object to the +first part of the ditty. It is natural enough that a +Scotchman should cry, ‘Come, fill up my cup!’ more +especially if he’s drinking at another person’s +expense—all Scotchmen being fond of liquor at free cost: +but ‘Saddle his horse!!!’—for what purpose, I +would ask? Where is the use of saddling a horse, unless you +can ride him? and where was there ever a Scotchman who could +ride?”</p> +<p>“Of course you have not a drop of Scotch blood in your +veins,” said I, “otherwise you would never have +uttered that last sentence.”</p> +<p>“Don’t be too sure of that,” said the man in +black; “you know little of Popery if you imagine that it +cannot extinguish love of country, even in a Scotchman. A +thorough-going Papist—and who more thorough-going than +myself?—cares nothing for his country; and why should he? +he belongs to a system, and not to a country.”</p> +<p>“One thing,” said I, “connected with you, I +cannot understand; you call yourself a thorough-going Papist, yet +are continually saying the most pungent things against Popery, +and turning to unbounded ridicule those who show any inclination +to embrace it.”</p> +<p>“Rome is a very sensible old body,” said the man +in black, “and little cares what her children say, provided +they do her bidding. She knows several things, and amongst +others, that no servants work so hard and faithfully as those who +curse their masters at every stroke they do. She was not +fool enough to be angry with the Miquelets of Alba, who renounced +her, and called her ‘puta’ all the time they were +cutting the throats of the Netherlanders. Now, if she +allowed her faithful soldiers the latitude of renouncing her, and +calling her ‘puta’ in the market-place, think not she +is so unreasonable as to object to her faithful priests +occasionally calling her ‘puta’ in the +dingle.”</p> +<p>“But,” said I, “suppose some one were to +tell the world some of the disorderly things which her priests +say in the dingle?”</p> +<p>“He would have the fate of Cassandra,” said the +man in black; “no one would believe him—yes, the +priests would: but they would make no sign of belief. They +believe in the Alcoran des Cordeliers—that is, those who +have read it; but they make no sign.”</p> +<p>“A pretty system,” said I, “which +extinguishes love of country and of everything noble, and brings +the minds of its ministers to a parity with those of devils, who +delight in nothing but mischief.”</p> +<p>“The system,” said the man in black, “is a +grand one, with unbounded vitality. Compare it with your +Protestantism, and you will see the difference. Popery is +ever at work, whilst Protestantism is supine. A pretty +church, indeed, the Protestant! Why, it can’t even +work a miracle.”</p> +<p>“Can your church work miracles?” I demanded.</p> +<p>“That was the very question,” said the man in +black, “which the ancient British clergy asked of Austin +Monk, after they had been fools enough to acknowledge their own +inability. ‘We don’t pretend to work miracles; +do you?’ ‘Oh! dear me, yes,’ said Austin; +‘we find no difficulty in the matter. We can raise +the dead, we can make the blind see; and to convince you, I will +give sight to the blind. Here is this blind Saxon, whom you +cannot cure, but on whose eyes I will manifest my power, in order +to show the difference between the true and the false +church;’ and forthwith, with the assistance of a +handkerchief and a little hot water, he opened the eyes of the +barbarian. So we manage matters! A pretty church, +that old British church, which could not work +miracles—quite as helpless as the modern one. The +fools! was birdlime so scarce a thing amongst them?—and +were the properties of warm water so unknown to them, that they +could not close a pair of eyes and open them?”</p> +<p>“It’s a pity,” said I, “that the +British clergy at that interview with Austin, did not bring +forward a blind Welshman, and ask the monk to operate upon +him.”</p> +<p>“Clearly,” said the man in black; +“that’s what they ought to have done; but they were +fools without a single resource.” Here he took a sip +at his glass.</p> +<p>“But they did not believe in the miracle?” said +I.</p> +<p>“And what did their not believing avail them?” +said the man in black. “Austin remained master of the +field, and they went away holding their heads down, and muttering +to themselves. What a fine subject for a painting would be +Austin’s opening the eyes of the Saxon barbarian, and the +discomfiture of the British clergy! I wonder it has not +been painted!—he! he!”</p> +<p>“I suppose your church still performs miracles +occasionally!” said I.</p> +<p>“It does,” said the man in black. “The +Rev. --- has lately been performing miracles in Ireland, +destroying devils that had got possession of people; he has been +eminently successful. In two instances he not only +destroyed the devils, but the lives of the people +possessed—he! he! Oh! there is so much energy in our +system; we are always at work, whilst Protestantism is +supine.”</p> +<p>“You must not imagine,” said I, “that all +Protestants are supine; some of them appear to be filled with +unbounded zeal. They deal, it is true, not in lying +miracles, but they propagate God’s Word. I remember +only a few months ago, having occasion for a Bible, going to an +establishment, the object of which was to send Bibles all over +the world. The supporters of that establishment could have +no self-interested views; for I was supplied by them with a +noble-sized Bible at a price so small as to preclude the idea +that it could bring any profit to the vendors.”</p> +<p>The countenance of the man in black slightly fell. +“I know the people to whom you allude,” said he; +“indeed, unknown to them, I have frequently been to see +them, and observed their ways. I tell you frankly that +there is not a set of people in this kingdom who have caused our +church so much trouble and uneasiness. I should rather say +that they alone cause us any; for as for the rest, what with +their drowsiness, their plethora, their folly and their vanity, +they are doing us anything but mischief. These fellows are +a pestilent set of heretics, whom we would gladly see burnt; they +are, with the most untiring perseverance, and in spite of divers +minatory declarations of the holy father, scattering their books +abroad through all Europe, and have caused many people in +Catholic countries to think that hitherto their priesthood have +endeavoured, as much as possible, to keep them blinded. +There is one fellow amongst them for whom we entertain a +particular aversion; a big, burly parson, with the face of a +lion, the voice of a buffalo, and a fist like a +sledge-hammer. The last time I was there, I observed that +his eye was upon me, and I did not like the glance he gave me at +all; I observed him clench his fist, and I took my departure as +fast as I conveniently could. Whether he suspected who I +was, I know not; but I did not like his look at all, and do not +intend to go again.”</p> +<p>“Well, then,” said I, “you confess that you +have redoubtable enemies to your plans in these regions, and that +even amongst the ecclesiastics there are some widely different +from those of the plethoric and Platitude schools?”</p> +<p>“It is but too true,” said the man in black; +“and if the rest of your church were like them we should +quickly bid adieu to all hope of converting these regions, but we +are thankful to be able to say that such folks are not numerous; +there are, moreover, causes at work quite sufficient to undermine +even their zeal. Their sons return at the vacations, from +Oxford and Cambridge, puppies, full of the nonsense which they +have imbibed from Platitude professors; and this nonsense they +retail at home, where it fails not to make some impression, +whilst the daughters scream—I beg their +pardons—warble about Scotland’s Montrose, and Bonny +Dundee, and all the Jacobs; so we have no doubt that their +papas’ zeal about the propagation of such a vulgar book as +the Bible will in a very little time be terribly +diminished. Old Rome will win, so you had better join +her.”</p> +<p>And the man in black drained the last drop in his glass.</p> +<p>“Never,” said I, “will I become the slave of +Rome.”</p> +<p>“She will allow you latitude,” said the man in +black; “do but serve her, and she will allow you to call +her ‘puta’ at a decent time and place, her popes +occasionally call her ‘puta.’ A pope has been +known to start from his bed at midnight and rush out into the +corridor, and call out ‘puta’ three times in a voice +which pierced the Vatican; that pope was—”</p> +<p>“Alexander the Sixth, I dare say,” said I; +“the greatest monster that ever existed, though the +worthiest head which the pope system ever had—so his +conscience was not always still. I thought it had been +seared with a brand of iron.”</p> +<p>“I did not allude to him, but to a much more modern +pope,” said the man in black; “it is true he brought +the word, which is Spanish, from Spain, his native country, to +Rome. He was very fond of calling the church by that name, +and other popes have taken it up. She will allow you to +call her by it, if you belong to her.”</p> +<p>“I shall call her so,” said I, “without +belonging to her, or asking her permission.”</p> +<p>“She will allow you to treat her as such, if you belong +to her,” said the man in black; “there is a chapel in +Rome, where there is a wondrously fair statue—the son of a +cardinal—I mean his nephew—once—Well, she did +not cut off his head, but slightly boxed his cheek and bade him +go.”</p> +<p>“I have read all about that in ‘Keysler’s +Travels,’” said I; “do you tell her that I +would not touch her with a pair of tongs, unless to seize her +nose.”</p> +<p>“She is fond of lucre,” said the man in black; +“but does not grudge a faithful priest a little private +perquisite,” and he took out a very handsome gold +repeater.</p> +<p>“Are you not afraid,” said I, “to flash that +watch before the eyes of a poor tinker in a dingle?”</p> +<p>“Not before the eyes of one like you,” said the +man in black.</p> +<p>“It is getting late,” said I; “I care not +for perquisites.”</p> +<p>“So you will not join us?” said the man in +black.</p> +<p>“You have had my answer,” said I.</p> +<p>“If I belong to Rome,” said the man in black, +“why should not you?”</p> +<p>“I may be a poor tinker,” said I; “but I may +never have undergone what you have. You remember, perhaps, +the fable of the fox who had lost his tail?”</p> +<p>The man in black winced, but almost immediately recovering +himself, he said, “Well, we can do without you, we are sure +of winning.”</p> +<p>“It is not the part of wise people,” said I, +“to make sure of the battle before it is fought: +there’s the landlord of the public-house, who made sure +that his cocks would win, yet the cocks lost the main, and the +landlord is little better than a bankrupt.”</p> +<p>“People very different from the landlord,” said +the man in black, “both in intellect and station, think we +shall surely win; there are clever machinators among us who have +no doubt of our success.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “I will set the landlord +aside, and will adduce one who was in every point a very +different person from the landlord, both in understanding and +station; he was very fond of laying schemes, and, indeed, many of +them turned out successful. His last and darling one, +however, miscarried, notwithstanding that by his calculations he +had persuaded himself that there was no possibility of its +failing—the person that I allude to was old +Fraser—”</p> +<p>“Who?” said the man in black, giving a start, and +letting his glass fall.</p> +<p>“Old Fraser, of Lovat,” said I, “the prince +of all conspirators and machinators; he made sure of placing the +Pretender on the throne of these realms. ‘I can bring +into the field so many men,’ said he; ‘my son-in-law +Cluny, so many, and likewise my cousin, and my good +friend;’ then speaking of those on whom the government +reckoned for support, he would say, ‘So and so are +lukewarm, this person is ruled by his wife, who is with us, the +clergy are anything but hostile to us, and as for the soldiers +and sailors, half are disaffected to King George, and the rest +cowards.’ Yet when things came to a trial, this +person whom he had calculated upon to join the Pretender did not +stir from his home, another joined the hostile ranks, the +presumed cowards turned out heroes, and those whom he thought +heroes ran away like lusty fellows at Culloden; in a word, he +found himself utterly mistaken, and in nothing more than in +himself; he thought he was a hero, and proved himself nothing +more than an old fox; he got up a hollow tree, didn’t he, +just like a fox?</p> +<blockquote><p>“‘L’opere sue non furon leonine, +ma di volpe.’”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The man in black sat silent for a considerable time, and at +length answered in rather a faltering voice, “I was not +prepared for this; you have frequently surprised me by your +knowledge of things which I should never have expected any person +of your appearance to be acquainted with, but that you should be +aware of my name is a circumstance utterly incomprehensible to +me. I had imagined that no person in England was acquainted +with it; indeed, I don’t see how any person should be, I +have revealed it to no one, not being particularly proud of +it. Yes, I acknowledge that my name is Fraser, and that I +am of the blood of that family or clan, of which the rector of +our college once said, that he was firmly of opinion that every +individual member was either rogue or fool. I was born at +Madrid, of pure, <i>oimè</i>, Fraser blood. My +parents, at an early age, took me to ---, where they shortly +died, not, however, before they had placed me in the service of a +cardinal, with whom I continued for some years, and who, when he +had no further occasion for me, sent me to the college, in the +left-hand cloister of which, as you enter, rest the bones of Sir +John ---; there, in studying logic and humane letters, I lost +whatever of humanity I had retained when discarded by the +cardinal. Let me not, however, forget two points,—I +am a Fraser, it is true, but not a Flannagan; I may bear the +vilest name of Britain, but not of Ireland; I was bred up at the +English house, and there is at—a house for the education of +bogtrotters; I was not bred up at that; beneath the lowest gulf, +there is one yet lower; whatever my blood may be, it is at least +not Irish; whatever my education may have been, I was not bred at +the Irish seminary—on those accounts I am +thankful—yes, <i>per dio</i>! I am thankful. +After some years at college—but why should I tell you my +history? you know it already perfectly well, probably much better +than myself. I am now a missionary priest, labouring in +heretic England, like Parsons and Garnet of old, save and except +that, unlike them, I run no danger, for the times are +changed. As I told you before, I shall cleave to +Rome—I must; <i>no hay remedio</i>, as they say at Madrid, +and I will do my best to further her holy plans—he! +he!—but I confess I begin to doubt of their being +successful here—you put me out; old Fraser, of Lovat! +I have heard my father talk of him; he had a gold-headed cane, +with which he once knocked my grandfather down—he was an +astute one, but, as you say, mistaken, particularly in +himself. I have read his life by Arbuthnot, it is in the +library of our college. Farewell! I shall come no +more to this dingle—to come would be of no utility; I shall +go and labour elsewhere, though—how you came to know my +name, is a fact quite inexplicable—farewell! to you +both.”</p> +<p>He then arose; and without further salutation departed from +the dingle, in which I never saw him again. “How, in +the name of wonder, came you to know that man’s +name?” said Belle, after he had been gone some time.</p> +<p>“I, Belle? I knew nothing of the fellow’s +name, I assure you.”</p> +<p>“But you mentioned his name.”</p> +<p>“If I did, it was merely casually, by way of +illustration. I was saying how frequently cunning people +were mistaken in their calculations, and I adduced the case of +old Fraser, of Lovat, as one in point; I brought forward his +name, because I was well acquainted with his history, from having +compiled and inserted it in a wonderful work, which I edited some +months ago, entitled ‘Newgate Lives and Trials,’ but +without the slightest idea that it was the name of him who was +sitting with us; he, however, thought that I was aware of his +name. Belle! Belle! for a long time I doubted the truth of +Scripture, owing to certain conceited individuals, but now I +begin to believe firmly; what wonderful texts are in Scripture, +Belle; ‘The wicked trembleth +where—where—’”</p> +<p>“‘They were afraid where no fear was; thou hast +put them to confusion, because God hath despised +them,’” said Belle; “I have frequently read it +before the clergyman in the great house of Long Melford. +But if you did not know the man’s name, why let him go away +supposing that you did?”</p> +<p>“Oh, if he was fool enough to make such a mistake, I was +not going to undeceive him—no, no! Let the enemies of +old England make the most of all their blunders and mistakes, +they will have no help from me; but enough of the fellow, Belle; +let us now have tea, and after that—”</p> +<p>“No Armenian,” said Belle; “but I want to +ask a question: pray are all people of that man’s name +either rogues or fools?”</p> +<p>“It is impossible for me to say, Belle, this person +being the only one of the name I have ever personally +known. I suppose there are good and bad, clever and +foolish, amongst them, as amongst all large bodies of people; +however, after the tribe had been governed for upwards of thirty +years, by such a person as old Fraser, it were no wonder if the +greater part had become either rogues or fools: he was a ruthless +tyrant, Belle, over his own people, and by his cruelty and +rapaciousness must either have stunned them into an apathy +approaching to idiotcy, or made them artful knaves in their own +defence. The qualities of parents are generally transmitted +to their descendants—the progeny of trained pointers are +almost sure to point, even without being taught: if, therefore, +all Frasers are either rogues or fools, as this person seems to +insinuate, it is little to be wondered at, their parents or +grandparents having been in the training-school of old +Fraser! But enough of the old tyrant and his slaves. +Belle, prepare tea this moment, or dread my anger. I have +not a gold-headed cane like old Fraser of Lovat, but I have, what +some people would dread much more, an Armenian +rune-stick.”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> +<p>Fresh Arrivals—Pitching the Tent—Certificated +Wife—High-flying Notions.</p> +<p>On the following morning, as I was about to leave my tent, I +heard the voice of Belle at the door, exclaiming, “Sleepest +thou, or wakest thou?” “I was never more awake +in my life,” said I, going out. “What is the +matter?” “He of the horse-shoe,” said +she, “Jasper, of whom I have heard you talk, is above there +on the field with all his people; I went out about a quarter of +an hour ago to fill the kettle at the spring, and saw them +arriving.” “It is well,” said I; +“have you any objection to asking him and his wife to +breakfast?” “You can do as you please,” +said she; “I have cups enough, and have no objection to +their company.” “We are the first occupiers of +the ground,” said I, “and, being so, should consider +ourselves in the light of hosts, and do our best to practise the +duties of hospitality.” “How fond you are of +using that word,” said Belle; “if you wish to invite +the man and his wife, do so, without more ado; remember, however, +that I have not cups enough, nor indeed tea enough, for the whole +company.” Thereupon hurrying up the ascent, I +presently found myself outside the dingle. It was as usual +a brilliant morning, the dewy blades of the rye-grass which +covered the plain sparkled brightly in the beams of the sun, +which had probably been about two hours above the horizon. +A rather numerous body of my ancient friends and allies occupied +the ground in the vicinity of the mouth of the dingle. +About five yards on the right I perceived Mr. Petulengro busily +employed in erecting his tent; he held in his hand an iron bar, +sharp at the bottom, with a kind of arm projecting from the top +for the purpose of supporting a kettle or cauldron over the fire, +and which is called in the Romanian language “Kekauviskoe +saster.” With the sharp end of this Mr. Petulengro +was making holes in the earth, at about twenty inches distant +from each other, into which he inserted certain long rods with a +considerable bend towards the top, which constituted no less than +the timber of the tent, and the supporters of the canvas. +Mrs. Petulengro, and a female with a crutch in her hand, whom I +recognised as Mrs. Chikno, sat near him on the ground, whilst two +or three children, from six to ten years old, who composed the +young family of Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro, were playing about.</p> +<p>“Here we are, brother,” said Mr. Petulengro, as he +drove the sharp end of the bar into the ground; “here we +are, and plenty of us—Bute dosta Romany chals.”</p> +<p>“I am glad to see you all,” said I; “and +particularly you, madam,” said I, making a bow to Mrs. +Petulengro; “and you also, madam,” taking off my hat +to Mrs. Chikno.</p> +<p>“Good-day to you, sir,” said Mrs. Petulengro; +“you look, as usual, charmingly, and speak so, too; you +have not forgot your manners.”</p> +<p>“It is not all gold that glitters,” said Mrs. +Chikno. “However, good-morrow to you, young +rye.”</p> +<p>“I do not see Tawno,” said I, looking around; +“where is he?”</p> +<p>“Where, indeed!” said Mrs. Chikno; “I +don’t know; he who countenances him in the roving line can +best answer.”</p> +<p>“He will be here anon,” said Mr. Petulengro; +“he has merely ridden down a by-road to show a farmer a +two-year-old colt; she heard me give him directions, but she +can’t be satisfied.”</p> +<p>“I can’t indeed,” said Mrs. Chikno.</p> +<p>“And why not, sister?”</p> +<p>“Because I place no confidence in your words, brother; +as I said before, you countenances him.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “I know nothing of your +private concerns; I am come on an errand. Isopel Berners, +down in the dell there, requests the pleasure of Mr. and Mrs. +Petulengro’s company at breakfast. She will be happy +also to see you, madam,” said I, addressing Mrs. +Chikno.</p> +<p>“Is that young female your wife, young man?” said +Mrs. Chikno.</p> +<p>“My wife?” said I.</p> +<p>“Yes, young man; your wife, your lawful certificated +wife?”</p> +<p>“No,” said I; “she is not my +wife.”</p> +<p>“Then I will not visit with her,” said Mrs. +Chikno; “I countenance nothing in the roving +line.”</p> +<p>“What do you mean by the roving line?” I +demanded.</p> +<p>“What do I mean by the roving line? Why, by it I +mean such conduct as is not tatcheno. When ryes and rawnies +live together in dingles, without being certificated, I call such +behaviour being tolerably deep in the roving line, everything +savouring of which I am determined not to sanctify. I have +suffered too much by my own certificated husband’s +outbreaks in that line to afford anything of the kind the +slightest shadow of countenance.”</p> +<p>“It is hard that people may not live in dingles together +without being suspected of doing wrong,” said I.</p> +<p>“So it is,” said Mrs. Petulengro, interposing; +“and, to tell you the truth, I am altogether surprised at +the illiberality of my sister’s remarks. I have often +heard say, that it is in good company—and I have kept good +company in my time—that suspicion is king’s evidence +of a narrow and uncultivated mind; on which account I am +suspicious of nobody, not even of my own husband, whom some +people would think I have a right to be suspicious of, seeing +that on his account I once refused a lord; but ask him whether I +am suspicious of him, and whether I seek to keep him close tied +to my apron-string; he will tell you nothing of the kind; but +that, on the contrary, I always allows him an agreeable latitude, +permitting him to go where he pleases, and to converse with any +one to whose manner of speaking he may take a fancy. But I +have had the advantage of keeping good company, and +therefore—”</p> +<p>“Meklis,” said Mrs. Chikno, “pray drop all +that, sister; I believe I have kept as good company as yourself; +and with respect to that offer with which you frequently fatigue +those who keeps company with you, I believe, after all, it was +something in the roving and uncertificated line.”</p> +<p>“In whatever line it was,” said Mrs. Petulengro, +“the offer was a good one. The young duke—for +he was not only a lord, but a duke too—offered to keep me a +fine carriage, and to make me his second wife; for it is true +that he had another who was old and stout, though mighty rich, +and highly good-natured; so much so, indeed, that the young lord +assured me that she would have no manner of objection to the +arrangement; more especially if I would consent to live in the +same house with her, being fond of young and cheerful +society. So you see—”</p> +<p>“Yes, yes,” said Mrs. Chikno, “I see, what I +before thought, that it was altogether in the uncertificated +line.”</p> +<p>“Meklis,” said Mrs. Petulengro; “I use your +own word, madam, which is Romany: for my own part, I am not fond +of using Romany words, unless I can hope to pass them off for +French, which I cannot in the present company. I heartily +wish that there was no such language, and do my best to keep it +away from my children, lest the frequent use of it should +altogether confirm them in low and vulgar habits. I have +four children, madam, but—”</p> +<p>“I suppose by talking of your four children you wish to +check me for having none,” said Mrs. Chikno, bursting into +tears; “if I have no children, sister, it is no fault of +mine, it is—but why do I call you sister?” said she, +angrily; “you are no sister of mine, you are a grasni, a +regular mare—a pretty sister, indeed, ashamed of your own +language. I remember well that by your high-flying notions +you drove your own mother—”</p> +<p>“We will drop it,” said Mrs. Petulengro; “I +do not wish to raise my voice, and to make myself +ridiculous. Young gentleman,” said she, “pray +present my compliments to Miss Isopel Berners, and inform her +that I am very sorry that I cannot accept her polite +invitation. I am just arrived, and have some slight +domestic matters to see to—amongst others, to wash my +children’s faces; but that in the course of the forenoon, +when I have attended to what I have to do, and have dressed +myself, I hope to do myself the honour of paying her a regular +visit; you will tell her that, with my compliments. With +respect to my husband he can answer for himself, as I, not being +of a jealous disposition, never interferes with his +matters.”</p> +<p>“And tell Miss Berners,” said Mr. Petulengro, +“that I shall be happy to wait upon her in company with my +wife as soon as we are regularly settled: at present I have much +on my hands, having not only to pitch my own tent, but this here +jealous woman’s, whose husband is absent on my +business.”</p> +<p>Thereupon I returned to the dingle, and, without saying +anything about Mrs. Chikno’s observations, communicated to +Isopel the messages of Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro; Isopel made no +other reply than by replacing in her coffer two additional cups +and saucers, which, in expectation of company, she had placed +upon the board. The kettle was by this time boiling. +We sat down, and, as we breakfasted, I gave Isopel Berners +another lesson in the Armenian language.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<p>The Promised Visit—Roman Fashion—Wizard and +Witch—Catching at Words—The Two +Females—Dressing of Hair—The New +Roads—Belle’s Altered Appearance—Herself +Again.</p> +<p>About mid-day Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro came to the dingle to +pay the promised visit. Belle, at the time of their +arrival, was in her tent, but I was at the fire-place, engaged in +hammering part of the outer-tire, or defence, which had come off +from one of the wheels of my vehicle. On perceiving them I +forthwith went to receive them. Mr. Petulengro was dressed +in Roman fashion, with a somewhat smartly-cut sporting-coat, the +buttons of which were half-crowns—and a waistcoat, scarlet +and black, the buttons of which were spaded half-guineas; his +breeches were of a stuff half velveteen, half corduroy, the cords +exceedingly broad. He had leggings of buff cloth, furred at +the bottom; and upon his feet were highlows. Under his left +arm was a long black whalebone riding-whip, with a red lash, and +an immense silver knob. Upon his head was a hat with a high +peak, somewhat of the kind which the Spaniards call +<i>calané</i>, so much in favour with the bravos of +Seville and Madrid. Now, when I have added that Mr. +Petulengro had on a very fine white holland shirt, I think I have +described his array. Mrs. Petulengro—I beg pardon for +not having spoken of her first—was also arrayed very much +in the Roman fashion. Her hair, which was exceedingly black +and lustrous, fell in braids on either side of her head. In +her ears were rings, with long drops of gold. Round her +neck was a string of what seemed very much like very large +pearls, somewhat tarnished, however, and apparently of +considerable antiquity. “Here we are, brother,” +said Mr. Petulengro; “here we are, come to see +you—wizard and witch, witch and wizard:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“‘There’s a chovahanee, and a +chovahano,<br /> +The nav se len is Petulengro.’”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Hold your tongue, sir,” said Mrs. Petulengro; +“you make me ashamed of you with your vulgar ditties. +We are come a visiting now, and everything low should be left +behind.”</p> +<p>“True,” said Mr. Petulengro; “why bring +what’s low to the dingle, which is low enough +already?”</p> +<p>“What, are you a catcher at words?” said I. +“I thought that catching at words had been confined to the +pothouse farmers and village witty bodies.”</p> +<p>“All fools,” said Mrs. Petulengro, “catch at +words, and very naturally, as by so doing they hope to prevent +the possibility of rational conversation. Catching at words +confined to pothouse farmers, and village witty bodies! No, +not to Jasper Petulengro. Listen for an hour or two to the +discourse of a set they call newspaper editors, and if you +don’t go out and eat grass, as a dog does when he is sick, +I am no female woman. The young lord whose hand I refused +when I took up with wise Jasper, once brought two of them to my +mother’s tan, when hankering after my company; they did +nothing but carp at each other’s words, and a pretty hand +they made of it. Ill-favoured dogs they were; and their +attempts at what they called wit almost as unfortunate as their +countenances.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “madam, we will drop all +catchings and carpings for the present. Pray take your seat +on this stool, whilst I go and announce to Miss Isopel Berners +your arrival.”</p> +<p>Thereupon I went to Belle’s habitation, and informed her +that Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro had paid us a visit of ceremony, and +were awaiting her at the fire-place. “Pray go and +tell them that I am busy,” said Belle, who was engaged with +her needle. “I do not feel disposed to take part in +any such nonsense.” “I shall do no such +thing,” said I; “and I insist upon your coming +forthwith, and showing proper courtesy to your visitors. If +you do not, their feelings will be hurt, and you are aware that I +cannot bear that people’s feelings should be +outraged. Come this moment, or—” +“Or what?” said Belle, half smiling. “I +was about to say something in Armenian,” said I. +“Well,” said Belle, laying down her work, “I +will come.” “Stay,” said I; “your +hair is hanging about your ears, and your dress is in disorder; +you had better stay a minute or two to prepare yourself to appear +before your visitors, who have come in their very best +attire.” “No,” said Belle, “I will +make no alteration in my appearance; you told me to come this +moment, and you shall be obeyed.” So Belle and I +advanced towards our guests. As we drew nigh Mr. Petulengro +took off his hat, and made a profound obeisance to Belle, whilst +Mrs. Petulengro rose from the stool, and made a profound +curtsey. Belle, who had flung her hair back over her +shoulders, returned their salutations by bending her head, and +after slightly glancing at Mr. Petulengro, fixed her large blue +eyes full upon his wife. Both these females were very +handsome—but how unlike! Belle fair, with blue eyes +and flaxen hair; Mrs. Petulengro with olive complexion, eyes +black, and hair dark—as dark as could be. Belle, in +demeanour calm and proud; the gypsy graceful, but full of +movement and agitation. And then how different were those +two in stature! The head of the Romany rawnie scarcely +ascended to the breast of Isopel Berners. I could see that +Mrs. Petulengro gazed on Belle with unmixed admiration; so did +her husband. “Well,” said the latter, +“one thing I will say, which is, that there is only one on +earth worthy to stand up in front of this she, and that is the +beauty of the world, as far as man flesh is concerned, Tawno +Chikno; what a pity he did not come down!”</p> +<p>“Tawno Chikno,” said Mrs. Petulengro, flaring up; +“a pretty fellow he to stand up in front of this +gentlewoman, a pity he didn’t come, quotha? not at all, the +fellow is a sneak, afraid of his wife. He stand up against +this rawnie! why, the look she has given me would knock the +fellow down.”</p> +<p>“It is easier to knock him down with a look than with a +fist,” said Mr. Petulengro; “that is, if the look +comes from a woman: not that I am disposed to doubt that this +female gentlewoman is able to knock him down either one way or +the other. I have heard of her often enough, and have seen +her once or twice, though not so near as now. Well, +ma’am, my wife and I are come to pay our respects to you; +we are both glad to find that you have left off keeping company +with Flaming Bosville, and have taken up with my pal; he is not +very handsome, but a better—”</p> +<p>“I take up with your pal, as you call him! you had +better mind what you say,” said Isopel Berners, “I +take up with nobody.”</p> +<p>“I merely mean taking up your quarters with him,” +said Mr. Petulengro; “and I was only about to say a better +fellow-lodger you cannot have, or a more instructive, especially +if you have a desire to be inoculated with tongues, as he calls +them. I wonder whether you and he have had any tongue-work +already.”</p> +<p>“Have you and your wife anything particular to say? if +you have nothing but this kind of conversation I must leave you, +as I am going to make a journey this afternoon, and should be +getting ready.”</p> +<p>“You must excuse my husband, madam,” said Mrs. +Petulengro, “he is not overburdened with understanding, and +has said but one word of sense since he has been here, which was +that we came to pay our respects to you. We have dressed +ourselves in our best Roman way, in order to do honour to you; +perhaps you do not like it; if so, I am sorry. I have no +French clothes, madam; if I had any, madam, I would have come in +them, in order to do you more honour.”</p> +<p>“I like to see you much better as you are,” said +Belle; “people should keep to their own fashions, and yours +is very pretty.”</p> +<p>“I am glad you are pleased to think it so, madam; it has +been admired in the great city; it created what they call a +sensation; and some of the great ladies, the court ladies, +imitated it, else I should not appear in it so often as I am +accustomed; for I am not very fond of what is Roman, having an +imagination that what is Roman is ungenteel; in fact, I once +heard the wife of a rich citizen say that gypsies were vulgar +creatures. I should have taken her saying very much to +heart, but for her improper pronunciation; she could not +pronounce her words, madam, which we gypsies, as they call us, +usually can, so I thought she was no very high purchase. +You are very beautiful, madam, though you are not dressed as I +could wish to see you, and your hair is hanging down in sad +confusion; allow me to assist you in arranging your hair, madam; +I will dress it for you in our fashion; I would fain see how your +hair would look in our poor gypsy fashion; pray allow me, +madam?” and she took Belle by the hand.</p> +<p>“I really can do no such thing,” said Belle, +withdrawing her hand; “I thank you for coming to see me, +but—”</p> +<p>“Do allow me to officiate upon your hair, madam,” +said Mrs. Petulengro. “I should esteem your allowing +me a great mark of condescension. You are very beautiful, +madam, and I think you doubly so, because you are so fair; I have +a great esteem for persons with fair complexions and hair; I have +a less regard for people with dark hair and complexions, +madam.”</p> +<p>“Then why did you turn off the lord, and take up with +me?” said Mr. Petulengro; “that same lord was fair +enough all about him.”</p> +<p>“People do when they are young and silly what they +sometimes repent of when they are of riper years and +understandings. I sometimes think that had I not been +something of a simpleton, I might at this time be a great court +lady. Now, madam,” said she, again taking Belle by +the hand, “do oblige me by allowing me to plait your hair a +little?”</p> +<p>“I have really a good mind to be angry with you,” +said Belle, giving Mrs. Petulengro a peculiar glance.</p> +<p>“Do allow her to arrange your hair,” said I; +“she means no harm, and wishes to do you honour; do oblige +her and me too, for I should like to see how your hair would look +dressed in her fashion.”</p> +<p>“You hear what the young rye says?” said Mrs. +Petulengro. “I am sure you will oblige the young rye, +if not myself. Many people would be willing to oblige the +young rye, if he would but ask them; but he is not in the habit +of asking favours. He has a nose of his own, which he keeps +tolerably exalted; he does not think small-beer of himself, +madam; and all the time I have been with him, I never heard him +ask a favour before; therefore, madam, I am sure you will oblige +him. My sister Ursula would be very willing to oblige him +in many things, but he will not ask for anything, except for such +a favour as a word, which is a poor favour after all. I +don’t mean for her word; perhaps he will some day ask you +for your word. If so—”</p> +<p>“Why, here you are, after railing at me for catching at +words, catching at a word yourself,” said Mr. +Petulengro.</p> +<p>“Hold your tongue, sir,” said Mrs. +Petulengro. “Don’t interrupt me in my +discourse; if I caught at a word now, I am not in the habit of +doing so. I am no conceited body; no newspaper Neddy; no +pothouse witty person. I was about to say, madam, that if +the young rye asks you at any time for your word, you will do as +you deem convenient; but I am sure you will oblige him by +allowing me to braid your hair.”</p> +<p>“I shall not do it to oblige him,” said Belle; +“the young rye, as you call him, is nothing to +me.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, to oblige me,” said Mrs. Petulengro; +“do allow me to become your poor tire-woman.”</p> +<p>“It is great nonsense,” said Belle, reddening; +“however, as you came to see me, and ask the matter as a +particular favour to yourself—”</p> +<p>“Thank you, madam,” said Mrs. Petulengro, leading +Belle to the stool; “please to sit down here. Thank +you; your hair is very beautiful, madam,” she continued, as +she proceeded to braid Belle’s hair; “so is your +countenance. Should you ever go to the great city, among +the grand folks, you would make a sensation, madam. I have +made one myself, who am dark; the chi she is kauley, which last +word signifies black, which I am not, though rather dark. +There is no colour like white, madam; it’s so lasting, so +genteel. Gentility will carry the day, madam, even with the +young rye. He will ask words of the black lass, but beg the +word of the fair.”</p> +<p>In the meantime Mr. Petulengro and myself entered into +conversation. “Any news stirring, Mr. +Petulengro?” said I. “Have you heard anything +of the great religious movements?”</p> +<p>“Plenty,” said Mr. Petulengro; “all the +religious people, more especially the Evangelicals—those +that go about distributing tracts—are very angry about the +fight between Gentleman Cooper and White-headed Bob, which they +say ought not to have been permitted to take place; and then they +are trying all they can to prevent the fight between the lion and +the dogs, which they say is a disgrace to a Christian +country. Now I can’t say that I have any quarrel with +the religious party and the Evangelicals; they are always civil +to me and mine, and frequently give us tracts, as they call them, +which neither I nor mine can read; but I cannot say that I +approve of any movements, religious or not, which have in aim to +put down all life and manly sport in this here +country.”</p> +<p>“Anything else?” said I.</p> +<p>“People are becoming vastly sharp,” said Mr. +Petulengro; “and I am told that all the old-fashioned +good-tempered constables are going to be set aside, and a paid +body of men to be established, who are not to permit a tramper or +vagabond on the roads of England;—and talking of roads, +puts me in mind of a strange story I heard two nights ago, whilst +drinking some beer at a public-house in company with my cousin +Sylvester. I had asked Tawno to go, but his wife would not +let him. Just opposite me, smoking their pipes, were a +couple of men, something like engineers, and they were talking of +a wonderful invention which was to make a wonderful alteration in +England; inasmuch as it would set aside all the old roads, which +in a little time would be ploughed up, and sowed with corn, and +cause all England to be laid down with iron roads, on which +people would go thundering along in vehicles, pushed forward by +fire and smoke. Now, brother, when I heard this, I did not +feel very comfortable; for I thought to myself, what a queer +place such a road would be to pitch one’s tent upon, and +how impossible it would be for one’s cattle to find a bite +of grass upon it; and I thought likewise of the danger to which +one’s family would be exposed in being run over and +severely scorched by these same flying fiery vehicles; so I made +bold to say, that I hoped such an invention would never be +countenanced, because it was likely to do a great deal of +harm. Whereupon, one of the men, giving me a glance, said, +without taking the pipe out of his mouth, that for his part, he +sincerely hoped that it would take effect; and if it did no other +good than stopping the rambles of gypsies, and other like scamps, +it ought to be encouraged. Well, brother, feeling myself +insulted, I put my hand into my pocket, in order to pull out +money, intending to challenge him to fight for a five-shilling +stake, but merely found sixpence, having left all my other money +at the tent; which sixpence was just sufficient to pay for the +beer which Sylvester and myself were drinking, of whom I +couldn’t hope to borrow anything—‘poor as +Sylvester’ being a by-word amongst us. So, not being +able to back myself, I held my peace, and let the Gorgio have it +all his own way, who, after turning up his nose at me, went on +discoursing about the said invention, saying what a fund of +profit it would be to those who knew how to make use of it, and +should have the laying down of the new roads, and the shoeing of +England with iron. And after he had said this, and much +more of the same kind, which I cannot remember, he and his +companion got up and walked away; and presently I and Sylvester +got up and walked to our camp; and there I lay down in my tent by +the side of my wife, where I had an ugly dream of having camped +upon an iron road; my tent being overturned by a flying vehicle; +my wife’s leg injured; and all my affairs put into great +confusion.”</p> +<p>“Now, madam,” said Mrs. Petulengro, “I have +braided your hair in our fashion: you look very beautiful, madam; +more beautiful, if possible, than before.” Belle now +rose, and came forward with her tire-woman. Mr. Petulengro +was loud in his applause, but I said nothing, for I did not think +Belle was improved in appearance by having submitted to the +ministry of Mrs. Petulengro’s hand. Nature never +intended Belle to appear as a gypsy; she had made her too proud +and serious. A more proper part for her was that of a +heroine, a queenly heroine,—that of Theresa of Hungary, for +example; or, better still, that of Brynhilda the Valkyrie, the +beloved of Sigurd, the serpent-killer, who incurred the curse of +Odin, because, in the tumult of spears, she sided with the young +king, and doomed the old warrior to die, to whom Odin had +promised victory.</p> +<p>Belle looked at me for a moment in silence; then turning to +Mrs. Petulengro, she said, “You have had your will with me; +are you satisfied?” “Quite so, madam,” +said Mrs. Petulengro, “and I hope you will be so too, as +soon as you have looked in the glass.” “I have +looked in one already,” said Belle; “and the glass +does not flatter.” “You mean the face of the +young rye,” said Mrs. Petulengro; “never mind him, +madam; the young rye, though he knows a thing or two, is not a +university, nor a person of universal wisdom. I assure you, +that you never looked so well before; and I hope that, from this +moment, you will wear your hair in this way.” +“And who is to braid it in this way?” said Belle, +smiling. “I, madam,” said Mrs. Petulengro; +“I will braid it for you every morning, if you will but be +persuaded to join us. Do so, madam, and I think, if you +did, the young rye would do so too.” “The young +rye is nothing to me, nor I to him,” said Belle; “we +have stayed some time together; but our paths will soon be +apart. Now, farewell, for I am about to take a +journey.” “And you will go out with your hair +as I have braided it,” said Mrs. Petulengro; “if you +do, everybody will be in love with you.” +“No,” said Belle; “hitherto I have allowed you +to do what you please, but henceforth I shall have my own +way. Come, come,” said she, observing that the gypsy +was about to speak, “we have had enough of nonsense; +whenever I leave this hollow, it will be wearing my hair in my +own fashion.” “Come, wife,” said Mr. +Petulengro; “we will no longer intrude upon the rye and +rawnie; there is such a thing as being troublesome.” +Thereupon Mr. Petulengro and his wife took their leave, with many +salutations. “Then you are going?” said I, when +Belle and I were left alone. “Yes,” said Belle; +“I am going on a journey; my affairs compel +me.” “But you will return again?” said +I. “Yes,” said Belle, “I shall return +once more.” “Once more,” said I; +“what do you mean by once more? The Petulengros will +soon be gone, and will you abandon me in this place?” +“You were alone here,” said Belle, “before I +came, and I suppose, found it agreeable, or you would not have +stayed in it.” “Yes,” said I, “that +was before I knew you; but having lived with you here, I should +be very loth to live here without you.” +“Indeed,” said Belle; “I did not know that I +was of so much consequence to you. Well, the day is wearing +away—I must go and harness Traveller to the +cart.” “I will do that,” said I, +“or anything else you may wish me. Go and prepare +yourself; I will see after Traveller and the cart.” +Belle departed to her tent, and I set about performing the task I +had undertaken. In about half-an-hour Belle again made her +appearance—she was dressed neatly and plainly. Her +hair was no longer in the Roman fashion, in which Pakomovna had +plaited it, but was secured by a comb; she held a bonnet in her +hand. “Is there anything else I can do for +you?” I demanded. “There are two or three +bundles by my tent, which you can put into the cart,” said +Belle. I put the bundles into the cart, and then led +Traveller and the cart up the winding path to the mouth of the +dingle, near which was Mr. Petulengro’s encampment. +Belle followed. At the top, I delivered the reins into her +hands; we looked at each other stedfastly for some time. +Belle then departed, and I returned to the dingle, where, seating +myself on my stone, I remained for upwards of an hour in +thought.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<p>The Festival—The Gypsy Song—Piramus of +Rome—The Scotchman—Gypsy Names.</p> +<p>On the following day there was much feasting amongst the +Romany chals of Mr. Petulengro’s party. Throughout +the forenoon the Romany chies did scarcely anything but cook +flesh, and the flesh which they cooked was swine’s +flesh. About two o’clock, the chals dividing +themselves into various parties, sat down and partook of the +fare, which was partly roasted, partly sodden. I dined that +day with Mr. Petulengro and his wife and family, Ursula, Mr. and +Mrs. Chikno, and Sylvester and his two children. Sylvester, +it will be as well to say, was a widower, and had consequently no +one to cook his victuals for him, supposing he had any, which was +not always the case, Sylvester’s affairs being seldom in a +prosperous state. He was noted for his bad success in +trafficking, notwithstanding the many hints which he received +from Jasper, under whose protection he had placed himself, even +as Tawno Chikno had done, who himself, as the reader has heard on +a former occasion, was anything but a wealthy subject, though he +was at all times better off than Sylvester, the Lazarus of the +Romany tribe.</p> +<p>All our party ate with a good appetite, except myself, who, +feeling rather melancholy that day, had little desire to +eat. I did not, like the others, partake of the pork, but +got my dinner entirely off the body of a squirrel which had been +shot the day before by a chal of the name of Piramus, who, +besides being a good shot, was celebrated for his skill in +playing on the fiddle. During the dinner a horn filled with +ale passed frequently around; I drank of it more than once, and +felt inspirited by the draughts. The repast concluded, +Sylvester and his children departed to their tent, and Mr. +Petulengro, Tawno, and myself, getting up, went and lay down +under a shady hedge, where Mr. Petulengro, lighting his pipe, +began to smoke, and where Tawno presently fell asleep. I +was about to fall asleep also, when I heard the sound of music +and song. Piramus was playing on the fiddle, whilst Mrs. +Chikno, who had a voice of her own, was singing in tones sharp +enough, but of great power, a gypsy song:—</p> +<h3>POISONING THE PORKER<br /> +BY MRS. CHIKNO</h3> +<blockquote><p>To mande shoon ye Romany chals<br /> +Who besh in the pus about the yag,<br /> +I’ll pen how we drab the baulo,<br /> +I’ll pen how we drab the baulo.</p> +<p>We jaws to the drab-engro ker,<br /> +Trin horsworth there of drab we lels,<br /> +And when to the swety back we wels<br /> +We pens we’ll drab the baulo,<br /> +We’ll have a drab at a baulo.</p> +<p>And then we kairs the drab opré,<br /> +And then we jaws to the farming ker,<br /> +To mang a beti habben,<br /> +A beti poggado habben.</p> +<p>A rinkeno baulo there we dick,<br /> +And then we pens in Romano jib;<br /> +Wust lis odoi opré ye chick,<br /> +And the baulo he will lel lis,<br /> +The baulo he will lel lis.</p> +<p>Coliko, coliko saulo we<br /> +Apopli to the farming ker<br /> +Will wel and mang him mullo,<br /> +Will wel and mang his truppo.</p> +<p>And so we kairs, and so we kairs;<br /> +The baulo in the rarde mers;<br /> +We mang him on the saulo,<br /> +And rig to the tan the baulo.</p> +<p>And then we toves the wendror well<br /> +Till sore the wendror iuziou se,<br /> +Till kekkeno drab’s adrey lis,<br /> +Till drab there’s kek adrey lis.</p> +<p>And then his truppo well we hatch,<br /> +Kin levinor at the kitchema,<br /> +And have a kosko habben,<br /> +A kosko Romano habben.</p> +<p>The boshom engro kils, he kils,<br /> +The tawnie juva gils, she gils<br /> +A puro Romano gillie,<br /> +Now shoon the Romano gillie.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Which song I had translated in the following manner, in my +younger days, for a lady’s album:</p> +<blockquote><p>Listen to me ye Roman lads, who are seated in the +straw about the fire, and I will tell how we poison the porker, I +will tell how we poison the porker.</p> +<p>We go to the house of the poison-monger, where we buy three +pennies’ worth of bane, and when we return to our people we +say, we will poison the porker; we will try and poison the +porker.</p> +<p>We then make up the poison, and then we take our way to the +house of the farmer, as if to beg a bit of victuals, a little +broken victuals.</p> +<p>We see a jolly porker, and then we say in Roman language, +“Fling the bane yonder amongst the dirt, and the porker +soon will find it, the porker soon will find it.”</p> +<p>Early on the morrow, we will return to the farm-house, and beg +the dead porker, the body of the dead porker.</p> +<p>And so we do, even so we do; the porker dieth during the +night; on the morrow we beg the porker, and carry to the tent the +porker.</p> +<p>And then we wash the inside well, till all the inside is +perfectly clean, till there’s no bane within it, not a +poison grain within it.</p> +<p>And then we roast the body well, send for ale to the alehouse, +and have a merry banquet, a merry Roman banquet.</p> +<p>The fellow with the fiddle plays, he plays; the little lassie +sings, she sings an ancient Roman ditty; now hear the Roman +ditty.</p> +</blockquote> +<h3>SONG OF THE BROKEN CHASTITY<br /> +BY URSULA</h3> +<blockquote><p>Penn’d the Romany chi ké laki dye<br +/> +“Miry dearie dye mi shom cambri!”<br /> +“And coin kerdo tute cambri,<br /> +Miry dearie chi, miry Romany chi?”<br /> +“O miry dye a boro rye,<br /> +A bovalo rye, a gorgiko rye,<br /> +Sos kistur pré a pellengo grye,<br /> +’Twas yov sos kerdo man cambri.”<br /> +“Tu tawnie vassavie lubbeny,<br /> +Tu chal from miry tan abri;<br /> +Had a Romany chal kair’d tute cambri,<br /> +Then I had penn’d ke tute chie,<br /> +But tu shan a vassavie lubbeny<br /> +With gorgikie rat to be cambri.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“There’s some kernel in those songs, +brother,” said Mr. Petulengro, when the songs and music +were over.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said I; “they are certainly very +remarkable songs. I say, Jasper, I hope you have not been +drabbing baulor lately.”</p> +<p>“And suppose we have, brother, what then?”</p> +<p>“Why, it is a very dangerous practice, to say nothing of +the wickedness of it.”</p> +<p>“Necessity has no law, brother.”</p> +<p>“That is true,” said I; “I have always said +so, but you are not necessitous, and should not drab +baulor.”</p> +<p>“And who told you we had been drabbing +baulor?”</p> +<p>“Why, you have had a banquet of pork, and after the +banquet, Mrs. Chikno sang a song about drabbing baulor, so I +naturally thought you might have lately been engaged in such a +thing.”</p> +<p>“Brother, you occasionally utter a word or two of common +sense. It was natural for you to suppose, after seeing that +dinner of pork, and hearing that song, that we had been drabbing +baulor; I will now tell you that we have not been doing so. +What have you to say to that?”</p> +<p>“That I am very glad of it.”</p> +<p>“Had you tasted that pork, brother, you would have found +that it was sweet and tasty, which balluva that is drabbed can +hardly be expected to be. We have no reason to drab baulor +at present, we have money and credit; but necessity has no +law. Our forefathers occasionally drabbed baulor; some of +our people may still do such a thing, but only from +compulsion.”</p> +<p>“I see,” said I; “and at your merry meetings +you sing songs upon the compulsatory deeds of your people, alias, +their villainous actions; and, after all, what would the stirring +poetry of any nation be, but for its compulsatory deeds? +Look at the poetry of Scotland, the heroic part, founded almost +entirely on the villainous deeds of the Scotch nation; +cow-stealing, for example, which is very little better than +drabbing baulor; whilst the softer part is mostly about the slips +of its females among the broom, so that no upholder of Scotch +poetry could censure Ursula’s song as indelicate, even if +he understood it. What do you think, Jasper?”</p> +<p>“I think, brother, as I before said, that occasionally +you utter a word of common sense; you were talking of the Scotch, +brother; what do you think of a Scotchman finding fault with +Romany!”</p> +<p>“A Scotchman finding fault with Romany, Jasper! Oh +dear, but you joke, the thing could never be.”</p> +<p>“Yes, and at Piramus’s fiddle; what do you think +of a Scotchman turning up his nose at Piramus’s +fiddle?”</p> +<p>“A Scotchman turning up his nose at Piramus’s +fiddle! nonsense, Jasper.”</p> +<p>“Do you know what I most dislike, brother?”</p> +<p>“I do not, unless it be the constable, +Jasper.”</p> +<p>“It is not the constable; it’s a beggar on +horseback, brother.”</p> +<p>“What do you mean by a beggar on horseback?”</p> +<p>“Why, a scamp, brother, raised above his proper place, +who takes every opportunity of giving himself fine airs. +About a week ago, my people and myself camped on a green by a +plantation in the neighbourhood of a great house. In the +evening we were making merry, the girls were dancing, while +Piramus was playing on the fiddle a tune of his own composing, to +which he has given his own name, Piramus of Rome, and which is +much celebrated amongst our people, and from which I have been +told that one of the grand gorgio composers, who once heard it, +has taken several hints. So, as we were making merry, a +great many grand people, lords and ladies, I believe, came from +the great house, and looked on, as the girls danced to the tune +of Piramus of Rome, and seemed much pleased; and when the girls +had left off dancing, and Piramus playing, the ladies wanted to +have their fortunes told; so I bade Mikailia Chikno, who can tell +a fortune when she pleases better than any one else, tell them a +fortune, and she, being in a good mind, told them a fortune which +pleased them very much. So, after they had heard their +fortunes, one of them asked if any of our women could sing; and I +told them several could, more particularly Leviathan—you +know Leviathan, she is not here now, but some miles distant, she +is our best singer, Ursula coming next. So the lady said +she should like to hear Leviathan sing, whereupon Leviathan sang +the Gudlo pesham, and Piramus played the tune of the same name, +which as you know, means the honeycomb, the song and the tune +being well entitled to the name, being wonderfully sweet. +Well, everybody present seemed mighty well pleased with the song +and music, with the exception of one person, a carroty-haired +Scotch body; how he came there I don’t know, but there he +was; and, coming forward, he began in Scotch as broad as a +barn-door to find fault with the music and the song, saying, that +he had never heard viler stuff than either. Well, brother, +out of consideration for the civil gentry with whom the fellow +had come, I held my peace for a long time, and in order to get +the subject changed, I said to Mikailia in Romany, You have told +the ladies their fortunes, now tell the gentlemen theirs, quick, +quick,—pen lende dukkerin. Well, brother, the +Scotchman, I suppose, thinking I was speaking ill of him, fell +into a greater passion than before, and catching hold of the word +dukkerin—‘Dukkerin,’ said he, +‘what’s dukkerin?’ +‘Dukkerin,’ said I, ‘is fortune, a man or +woman’s destiny; don’t you like the +word?’ ‘Word! d’ye ca’ that a word? +a bonnie word,’ said he. ‘Perhaps, you’ll +tell us what it is in Scotch,’ said I, ‘in order that +we may improve our language by a Scotch word; a pal of mine has +told me that we have taken a great many words from foreign +lingos.’ ‘Why, then, if that be the case, +fellow, I will tell you; it is e’en +“spaeing,”’ said he, very seriously. +‘Well, then,’ said I, ‘I’ll keep my own +word, which is much the prettiest—spaeing! spaeing! why, I +should be ashamed to make use of the word, it sounds so much like +a certain other word;’ and then I made a face as if I were +unwell. ‘Perhaps it’s Scotch also for +that?’ ‘What do ye mean by speaking in that +guise to a gentleman?’ said he; ‘you insolent +vagabond, without a name or a country.’ ‘There +you are mistaken,’ said I; ‘my country is Egypt, but +we ’Gyptians, like you Scotch, are rather fond of +travelling; and as for name—my name is Jasper Petulengro, +perhaps you have a better; what is it?’ ‘Sandy +Macraw.’ At that, brother, the gentlemen burst into a +roar of laughter, and all the ladies tittered.”</p> +<p>“You were rather severe on the Scotchman, +Jasper.”</p> +<p>“Not at all, brother, and suppose I were, he began +first; I am the civilest man in the world, and never interfere +with anybody, who lets me and mine alone. He finds fault +with Romany, forsooth! why, L-d A’mighty, what’s +Scotch? He doesn’t like our songs; what are his +own? I understand them as little as he mine; I have heard +one or two of them, and pretty rubbish they seemed. But the +best of the joke is, the fellow’s finding fault with +Piramus’s fiddle—a chap from the land of bagpipes +finding fault with Piramus’s fiddle! Why, I’ll +back that fiddle against all the bagpipes in Scotland, and +Piramus against all the bagpipers; for though Piramus weighs but +ten stone, he shall flog a Scotchman of twenty.”</p> +<p>“Scotchmen are never so fat as that,” said I, +“unless indeed, they have been a long time pensioners of +England. I say, Jasper, what remarkable names your people +have!”</p> +<p>“And what pretty names, brother; there’s my own, +for example, Jasper; then there’s Ambrose and Sylvester; +then there’s Culvato, which signifies Claude; then +there’s Piramus—that’s a nice name, +brother.”</p> +<p>“Then there’s your wife’s name, Pakomovna; +then there’s Ursula and Morella.”</p> +<p>“Then, brother, there’s Ercilla.”</p> +<p>“Ercilla! the name of the great poet of Spain, how +wonderful; then Leviathan.”</p> +<p>“The name of a ship, brother; Leviathan was named after +a ship, so don’t make a wonder out of her. But +there’s Sanpriel and Synfye.”</p> +<p>“Ay, and Clementina and Lavinia, Camillia and Lydia, +Curlanda and Orlanda; wherever did they get those +names?”</p> +<p>“Where did my wife get her necklace, brother?”</p> +<p>“She knows best, Jasper. I hope—”</p> +<p>“Come, no hoping! She got it from her grandmother, +who died at the age of a hundred and three, and sleeps in +Coggeshall churchyard. She got it from her mother, who also +died very old, and who could give no other account of it than +that it had been in the family time out of mind.”</p> +<p>“Whence could they have got it?”</p> +<p>“Why, perhaps where they got their names, brother. +A gentleman, who had travelled much, once told me that he had +seen the sister of it about the neck of an Indian +queen.”</p> +<p>“Some of your names, Jasper, appear to be church names; +your own, for example, and Ambrose, and Sylvester; perhaps you +got them from the Papists, in the times of Popery; but where did +you get such a name as Piramus, a name of Grecian romance? +Then some of them appear to be Slavonian; for example, Mikailia +and Pakomovna. I don’t know much of Slavonian; +but—”</p> +<p>“What is Slavonian, brother?”</p> +<p>“The family name of certain nations, the principal of +which is the Russian, and from which the word slave is originally +derived. You have heard of the Russians, Jasper?”</p> +<p>“Yes, brother; and seen some. I saw their crallis +at the time of the peace; he was not a bad-looking man for a +Russian.”</p> +<p>“By the bye, Jasper, I’m half inclined to think +that crallis is a Slavish word. I saw something like it in +a lil called ‘Voltaire’s Life of +Charles.’ How you should have come by such names and +words is to me incomprehensible.”</p> +<p>“You seem posed, brother.”</p> +<p>“I really know very little about you, Jasper.”</p> +<p>“Very little indeed, brother. We know very little +about ourselves; and you know nothing, save what we have told +you; and we have now and then told you things about us which are +not exactly true, simply to make a fool of you, brother. +You will say that was wrong; perhaps it was. Well, Sunday +will be here in a day or two, when we will go to church, where +possibly we shall hear a sermon on the disastrous consequences of +lying.”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<p>The Church—The Aristocratical Pew—Days of +Yore—The Clergyman—“In What Would a Man be +Profited?”</p> +<p>When two days had passed, Sunday came; I breakfasted by myself +in the solitary dingle; and then, having set things a little to +rights, I ascended to Mr. Petulengro’s encampment. I +could hear church-bells ringing around in the distance, appearing +to say, “Come to church, come to church,” as clearly +as it was possible for church-bells to say. I found Mr. +Petulengro seated by the door of his tent, smoking his pipe, in +rather an ungenteel undress. “Well, Jasper,” +said I, “are you ready to go to church? for if you are, I +am ready to accompany you.” “I am not ready, +brother,” said Mr. Petulengro, “nor is my wife; the +church, too, to which we shall go is three miles off; so it is of +no use to think of going there this morning, as the service would +be three-quarters over before we got there; if, however, you are +disposed to go in the afternoon, we are your people.” +Thereupon I returned to my dingle, where I passed several hours +in conning the Welsh Bible, which the preacher, Peter Williams, +had given me.</p> +<p>At last I gave over reading, took a slight refreshment, and +was about to emerge from the dingle, when I heard the voice of +Mr. Petulengro calling me. I went up again to the +encampment, where I found Mr. Petulengro, his wife, and Tawno +Chikno, ready to proceed to church. Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro +were dressed in Roman fashion, though not in the full-blown +manner in which they had paid their visit to Isopel and +myself. Tawno had on a clean white slop, with a nearly new +black beaver, with very broad rims, and the nap exceedingly +long. As for myself, I was dressed in much the same manner +as that in which I departed from London, having on, in honour of +the day, a shirt perfectly clean, having washed one on purpose +for the occasion, with my own hands, the day before, in the pond +of tepid water in which the newts and defts were in the habit of +taking their pleasure. We proceeded for upwards of a mile, +by footpaths through meadows and corn-fields; we crossed various +stiles; at last, passing over one, we found ourselves in a road, +wending along which for a considerable distance, we at last came +in sight of a church, the bells of which had been tolling +distinctly in our ears for some time; before, however, we reached +the church-yard, the bells had ceased their melody. It was +surrounded by lofty beech-trees of brilliant green foliage. +We entered the gate, Mrs. Petulengro leading the way, and +proceeded to a small door near the east end of the church. +As we advanced, the sound of singing within the church rose upon +our ears. Arrived at the small door, Mrs. Petulengro opened +it and entered, followed by Tawno Chikno. I myself went +last of all, following Mr. Petulengro, who, before I entered, +turned round, and, with a significant nod, advised me to take +care how I behaved. The part of the church which we had +entered was the chancel; on one side stood a number of venerable +old men—probably the neighbouring poor—and on the +other a number of poor girls belonging to the village school, +dressed in white gowns and straw bonnets, whom two elegant but +simply dressed young women were superintending. Every voice +seemed to be united in singing a certain anthem, which, +notwithstanding it was written neither by Tate nor Brady, +contains some of the sublimest words which were ever put +together, not the worst of which are those which burst on our +ears as we entered:</p> +<blockquote><p>“Every eye shall now behold Him,<br /> + Robed in dreadful majesty;<br /> +Those who set at nought and sold Him,<br /> + Pierced and nailed Him to the tree,<br /> + Deeply wailing,<br /> + Shall the true Messiah see.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Still following Mrs. Petulengro, we proceeded down the chancel +and along the aisle; notwithstanding the singing, I could +distinctly hear as we passed many a voice whispering, “Here +come the gypsies! here come the gypsies!” I felt +rather embarrassed, with a somewhat awkward doubt as to where we +were to sit; none of the occupiers of the pews, who appeared to +consist almost entirely of farmers, with their wives, sons, and +daughters, opened a door to admit us. Mrs. Petulengro, +however, appeared to feel not the least embarrassment, but +tripped along the aisle with the greatest nonchalance. We +passed under the pulpit, in which stood the clergyman in his +white surplice, and reached the middle of the church, where we +were confronted by the sexton dressed in long blue coat, and +holding in his hand a wand. This functionary motioned +towards the lower end of the church, where were certain benches, +partly occupied by poor people and boys. Mrs. Petulengro, +however, with a toss of her head, directed her course to a +magnificent pew, which was unoccupied, which she opened and +entered, followed closely by Tawno Chikno, Mr. Petulengro, and +myself. The sexton did not appear by any means to approve +of the arrangement, and as I stood next the door, laid his finger +on my arm, as if to intimate that myself and companions must quit +our aristocratical location. I said nothing, but directed +my eyes to the clergyman, who uttered a short and expressive +cough; the sexton looked at him for a moment, and then, bowing +his head, closed the door—in a moment more the music +ceased. I took up a prayer-book, on which was engraved an +earl’s coronet. The clergyman uttered, “I will +arise, and go to my father.” England’s sublime +liturgy had commenced.</p> +<p>Oh, what feelings came over me on finding myself again in an +edifice devoted to the religion of my country! I had not +been in such a place I cannot tell for how long—certainly +not for years; and now I had found my way there again, it +appeared as if I had fallen asleep in the pew of the old church +of pretty D---. I had occasionally done so when a child, +and had suddenly woke up. Yes, surely I had been asleep and +had woke up; but no! alas, no! I had not been +asleep—at least not in the old church—if I had been +asleep I had been walking in my sleep, struggling, striving, +learning, and unlearning in my sleep. Years had rolled away +whilst I had been asleep—ripe fruit had fallen, green fruit +had come on whilst I had been asleep—how circumstances had +altered, and above all myself, whilst I had been asleep. +No, I had not been asleep in the old church! I was in a +pew, it is true, but not the pew of black leather, in which I +sometimes fell asleep in days of yore, but in a strange pew; and +then my companions, they were no longer those of days of +yore. I was no longer with my respectable father and +mother, and my dear brother, but with the gypsy cral and his +wife, and the gigantic Tawno, the Antinous of the dusky +people. And what was I myself? No longer an innocent +child, but a moody man, bearing in my face, as I knew well, the +marks of my strivings and strugglings, of what I had learnt and +unlearnt; nevertheless, the general aspect of things brought to +my mind what I had felt and seen of yore. There was +difference enough, it is true, but still there was a +similarity—at least I thought so—the church, the +clergyman, and the clerk, differing in many respects from those +of pretty D---, put me strangely in mind of them; and then the +words!—by the bye, was it not the magic of the words which +brought the dear enchanting past so powerfully before the mind of +Lavengro? for the words were the same sonorous words of high +import which had first made an impression on his childish ear in +the old church of pretty D---.</p> +<p>The liturgy was now over, during the reading of which my +companions behaved in a most unexceptionable manner, sitting down +and rising up when other people sat down and rose, and holding in +their hands prayer-books which they found in the pew, into which +they stared intently, though I observed that, with the exception +of Mrs. Petulengro, who knew how to read a little, they held the +books by the top, and not the bottom, as is the usual way. +The clergyman now ascended the pulpit, arrayed in his black +gown. The congregation composed themselves to attention, as +did also my companions, who fixed their eyes upon the clergyman +with a certain strange immovable stare, which I believe to be +peculiar to their race. The clergyman gave out his text, +and began to preach. He was a tall, gentlemanly man, +seemingly between fifty and sixty, with greyish hair; his +features were very handsome, but with a somewhat melancholy cast: +the tones of his voice were rich and noble, but also with +somewhat of melancholy in them. The text which he gave out +was the following one, “In what would a man be profited, +provided he gained the whole world, and lost his own +soul?”</p> +<p>And on this text the clergyman preached long and well: he did +not read his sermon, but spoke it extempore; his doing so rather +surprised and offended me at first; I was not used to such a +style of preaching in a church devoted to the religion of my +country. I compared it within my mind with the style of +preaching used by the high-church rector in the old church of +pretty D---, and I thought to myself it was very different, and +being very different I did not like it, and I thought to myself +how scandalized the people of D--- would have been had they heard +it, and I figured to myself how indignant the high-church clerk +would have been had any clergyman got up in the church of D--- +and preached in such a manner. Did it not savour strongly +of dissent, methodism, and similar low stuff? Surely it +did; why, the Methodist I had heard preach on the heath above the +old city, preached in the same manner—at least he preached +extempore; ay, and something like the present clergyman; for the +Methodist spoke very zealously and with great feeling, and so did +the present clergyman; so I, of course, felt rather offended with +the clergyman for speaking with zeal and feeling. However, +long before the sermon was over I forgot the offence which I had +taken, and listened to the sermon with much admiration, for the +eloquence and powerful reasoning with which it abounded.</p> +<p>Oh, how eloquent he was, when he talked of the inestimable +value of a man’s soul, which he said endured for ever, +whilst his body, as every one knew, lasted at most for a very +contemptible period of time; and how forcibly he reasoned on the +folly of a man, who, for the sake of gaining the whole +world—a thing, he said, which provided he gained he could +only possess for a part of the time, during which his perishable +body existed—should lose his soul, that is, cause that +precious deathless portion of him to suffer indescribable misery +time without end.</p> +<p>There was one part of his sermon which struck me in a very +particular manner: he said, “That there were some people +who gained something in return for their souls; if they did not +get the whole world, they got a part of it—lands, wealth, +honour, or renown; mere trifles, he allowed, in comparison with +the value of a man’s soul, which is destined either to +enjoy delight, or suffer tribulation time without end; but which, +in the eyes of the worldly, had a certain value, and which +afforded a certain pleasure and satisfaction. But there +were also others who lost their souls, and got nothing for +them—neither lands, wealth, renown, nor consideration, who +were poor outcasts, and despised by everybody. My +friends,” he added, “if the man is a fool who barters +his soul for the whole world, what a fool he must be who barters +his soul for nothing.”</p> +<p>The eyes of the clergyman, as he uttered these words, wandered +around the whole congregation; and when he had concluded them, +the eyes of the whole congregation were turned upon my companions +and myself.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<p>Return from Church—The Cuckoo and Gypsy—Spiritual +Discourse.</p> +<p>The service over, my companions and myself returned towards +the encampment, by the way we came. Some of the humble part +of the congregation laughed and joked at us as we passed. +Mr. Petulengro and his wife, however, returned their laughs and +jokes with interest. As for Tawno and myself, we said +nothing: Tawno, like most handsome fellows, having very little to +say for himself at any time; and myself, though not handsome, not +being particularly skilful at repartee. Some boys followed +us for a considerable time, making all kinds of observations +about gypsies; but as we walked at a great pace, we gradually +left them behind, and at last lost sight of them. Mrs. +Petulengro and Tawno Chikno walked together, even as they had +come; whilst Mr. Petulengro and myself followed at a little +distance.</p> +<p>“That was a very fine preacher we heard,” said I +to Mr. Petulengro, after we had crossed the stile into the +fields.</p> +<p>“Very fine indeed, brother,” said Mr. Petulengro; +“he is talked of, far and wide, for his sermons; folks say +that there is scarcely another like him in the whole of +England.”</p> +<p>“He looks rather melancholy, Jasper.”</p> +<p>“He lost his wife several years ago, who, they say, was +one of the most beautiful women ever seen. They say that it +was grief for her loss that made him come out mighty strong as a +preacher; for, though he was a clergyman, he was never heard of +in the pulpit before he lost his wife; since then, the whole +country has rung with the preaching of the clergyman of M--- as +they call him. Those two nice young gentlewomen, whom you +saw with the female childer, are his daughters.”</p> +<p>“You seem to know all about him, Jasper. Did you +ever hear him preach before?”</p> +<p>“Never, brother; but he has frequently been to our tent, +and his daughters too, and given us tracts; for he is one of the +people they call Evangelicals, who give folks tracts which they +cannot read.”</p> +<p>“You should learn to read, Jasper.”</p> +<p>“We have no time, brother.”</p> +<p>“Are you not frequently idle?”</p> +<p>“Never, brother; when we are not engaged in our traffic, +we are engaged in taking our relaxation: so we have no time to +learn.”</p> +<p>“You really should make an effort. If you were +disposed to learn to read, I would endeavour to assist you. +You would be all the better for knowing how to read.”</p> +<p>“In what way, brother?”</p> +<p>“Why, you could read the Scriptures, and, by so doing, +learn your duty towards your fellow-creatures.”</p> +<p>“We know that already, brother; the constables and +justices have contrived to knock that tolerably into our +heads.”</p> +<p>“Yet you frequently break the laws.”</p> +<p>“So, I believe, do now and then those who know how to +read, brother.”</p> +<p>“Very true, Jasper; but you really ought to learn to +read, as, by so doing, you might learn your duty towards +yourselves: and your chief duty is to take care of your own +souls; did not the preacher say, ‘In what is a man +profited, provided he gain the whole world?’”</p> +<p>“We have not much of the world, brother.”</p> +<p>“Very little indeed, Jasper. Did you not observe +how the eyes of the whole congregation were turned towards our +pew, when the preacher said, ‘There are some people who +lose their souls, and get nothing in exchange; who are outcast, +despised, and miserable?’ Now was not what he said +quite applicable to the gypsies?”</p> +<p>“We are not miserable, brother.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, you ought to be, Jasper. Have you an +inch of ground of your own? Are you of the least use? +Are you not spoken ill of by everybody? What’s a +gypsy?”</p> +<p>“What’s the bird noising yonder, +brother?”</p> +<p>“The bird! oh, that’s the cuckoo tolling; but what +has the cuckoo to do with the matter?”</p> +<p>“We’ll see, brother; what’s the +cuckoo?”</p> +<p>“What is it? you know as much about it as myself, +Jasper.”</p> +<p>“Isn’t it a kind of roguish, chaffing bird, +brother?”</p> +<p>“I believe it is, Jasper.”</p> +<p>“Nobody knows whence it comes, brother?”</p> +<p>“I believe not, Jasper.”</p> +<p>“Very poor, brother, not a nest of its own?”</p> +<p>“So they say, Jasper.”</p> +<p>“With every person’s bad word, brother?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Jasper, every person is mocking it.”</p> +<p>“Tolerably merry, brother?”</p> +<p>“Yes, tolerably merry, Jasper.”</p> +<p>“Of no use at all, brother?”</p> +<p>“None whatever, Jasper.”</p> +<p>“You would be glad to get rid of the cuckoos, +brother?”</p> +<p>“Why, not exactly, Jasper; the cuckoo is a pleasant, +funny bird, and its presence and voice give a great charm to the +green trees and fields; no, I can’t say I wish exactly to +get rid of the cuckoo.”</p> +<p>“Well, brother, what’s a Romany chal?”</p> +<p>“You must answer that question yourself, +Jasper.”</p> +<p>“A roguish, chaffing fellow, a’n’t he, +brother?”</p> +<p>“Ay, ay, Jasper.”</p> +<p>“Of no use at all, brother?”</p> +<p>“Just so, Jasper; I see—”</p> +<p>“Something very much like a cuckoo, brother?”</p> +<p>“I see what you are after, Jasper.”</p> +<p>“You would like to get rid of us, wouldn’t +you?”</p> +<p>“Why no, not exactly.”</p> +<p>“We are no ornament to the green lanes in spring and +summer time, are we, brother? and the voices of our chies, with +their cukkerin and dukkerin, don’t help to make them +pleasant?”</p> +<p>“I see what you are at, Jasper.”</p> +<p>“You would wish to turn the cuckoos into barn-door +fowls, wouldn’t you?”</p> +<p>“Can’t say I should, Jasper, whatever some people +might wish.”</p> +<p>“And the chals and chies into radical weavers and +factory wenches, hey, brother?”</p> +<p>“Can’t say that I should, Jasper. You are +certainly a picturesque people, and in many respects an ornament +both to town and country; painting and lil writing too are under +great obligations to you. What pretty pictures are made out +of your campings and groupings, and what pretty books have been +written in which gypsies, or at least creatures intended to +represent gypsies, have been the principal figures. I think +if we were without you, we should begin to miss you.”</p> +<p>“Just as you would the cuckoos, if they were all +converted into barn-door fowls. I tell you what, brother; +frequently, as I have sat under a hedge in spring or summer time, +and heard the cuckoo, I have thought that we chals and cuckoos +are alike in many respects, but especially in character. +Everybody speaks ill of us both, and everybody is glad to see +both of us again.”</p> +<p>“Yes, Jasper, but there is some difference between men +and cuckoos; men have souls, Jasper!”</p> +<p>“And why not cuckoos, brother?”</p> +<p>“You should not talk so, Jasper; what you say is little +short of blasphemy. How should a bird have a +soul?”</p> +<p>“And how should a man?”</p> +<p>“Oh, we know very well that a man has a soul.”</p> +<p>“How do you know it?”</p> +<p>“We know very well.”</p> +<p>“Would you take your oath of it, brother—your +bodily oath?”</p> +<p>“Why, I think I might, Jasper!”</p> +<p>“Did you ever see the soul, brother?”</p> +<p>“No, I never saw it.”</p> +<p>“Then how could you swear to it? A pretty figure +you would make in a court of justice, to swear to a thing which +you never saw. Hold up your head, fellow. When and +where did you see it? Now upon your oath, fellow, do you +mean to say that this Roman stole the donkey’s foal? +Oh, there’s no one for cross-questioning like Counsellor +P---. Our people when they are in a hobble always like to +employ him, though he is somewhat dear. Now, brother, how +can you get over the ‘upon your oath, fellow, will you say +that you have a soul?’”</p> +<p>“Well, we will take no oaths on the subject; but you +yourself believe in the soul. I have heard you say that you +believe in dukkerin; now what is dukkerin but the soul +science?”</p> +<p>“When did I say that I believed in it?”</p> +<p>“Why, after that fight, when you pointed to the bloody +mark in the cloud, whilst he you wot of was galloping in the +barouche to the old town, amidst the rain-cataracts, the thunder, +and flame of heaven.”</p> +<p>“I have some kind of remembrance of it, +brother.”</p> +<p>“Then, again, I heard you say that the dook of Abershaw +rode every night on horseback down the wooded hill.”</p> +<p>“I say, brother, what a wonderful memory you +have!”</p> +<p>“I wish I had not, Jasper; but I can’t help it, it +is my misfortune.”</p> +<p>“Misfortune! well, perhaps it is; at any rate it is very +ungenteel to have such a memory. I have heard my wife say +that to show you have a long memory looks very vulgar; and that +you can’t give a greater proof of gentility than by +forgetting a thing as soon as possible—more especially a +promise, or an acquaintance when he happens to be shabby. +Well, brother, I don’t deny that I may have said that I +believe in dukkerin, and in Abershaw’s dook, which you say +is his soul; but what I believe one moment, or say I believe, +don’t be certain that I shall believe the next, or say I +do.”</p> +<p>“Indeed, Jasper, I heard you say on a previous occasion, +on quoting a piece of a song, that when a man dies he is cast +into the earth, and there’s an end of him.”</p> +<p>“I did, did I? Lor’ what a memory you have, +brother. But you are not sure that I hold that opinion +now.”</p> +<p>“Certainly not, Jasper. Indeed, after such a +sermon as we have been hearing, I should be very shocked if you +held such an opinion.”</p> +<p>“However, brother, don’t be sure I do not, however +shocking such an opinion may be to you.”</p> +<p>“What an incomprehensible people you are, +Jasper.”</p> +<p>“We are rather so, brother; indeed, we have posed wiser +heads than yours before now.”</p> +<p>“You seem to care for so little, and yet you rove about +a distinct race.”</p> +<p>“I say, brother!”</p> +<p>“Yes, Jasper.”</p> +<p>“What do you think of our women?”</p> +<p>“They have certainly very singular names, +Jasper.”</p> +<p>“Names! Lavengro! However, brother, if you +had been as fond of things as of names, you would never have been +a pal of ours.”</p> +<p>“What do you mean, Jasper?”</p> +<p>“A’n’t they rum animals?”</p> +<p>“They have tongues of their own, Jasper.”</p> +<p>“Did you ever feel their teeth and nails, +brother?”</p> +<p>“Never, Jasper, save Mrs. Herne’s. I have +always been very civil to them, so—”</p> +<p>“They let you alone. I say, brother, some part of +the secret is in them.”</p> +<p>“They seem rather flighty, Jasper.”</p> +<p>“Ay, ay, brother!”</p> +<p>“Rather fond of loose discourse!”</p> +<p>“Rather so, brother.”</p> +<p>“Can you always trust them, Jasper?”</p> +<p>“We never watch them, brother.”</p> +<p>“Can they always trust you?”</p> +<p>“Not quite so well as we can them. However, we get +on very well together, except Mikailia and her husband; but +Mikailia is a cripple, and is married to the beauty of the world, +so she may be expected to be jealous—though he would not +part with her for a duchess, no more than I would part with my +rawnie, nor any other chal with his.”</p> +<p>“Ay, but would not the chi part with the chal for a +duke, Jasper?”</p> +<p>“My Pakomovna gave up the duke for me, +brother.”</p> +<p>“But she occasionally talks of him, Jasper.”</p> +<p>“Yes, brother, but Pakomovna was born on a common not +far from the sign of the gammon.”</p> +<p>“Gammon of bacon, I suppose.”</p> +<p>“Yes, brother; but gammon likewise +means—”</p> +<p>“I know it does, Jasper; it means fun, ridicule, jest; +it is an ancient Norse word, and is found in the Edda.”</p> +<p>“Lor’, brother! how learned in lils you +are!”</p> +<p>“Many words of Norse are to be found in our vulgar +sayings, Jasper; for example—in that particularly vulgar +saying of ours, ‘Your mother is up,’ there’s a +noble Norse word; mother, there, meaning not the female who bore +us, but rage and choler, as I discovered by reading the Sagas, +Jasper.”</p> +<p>“Lor’, brother! how book-learned you +be.”</p> +<p>“Indifferently so, Jasper. Then you think you +might trust your wife with the duke?”</p> +<p>“I think I could, brother, or even with +yourself.”</p> +<p>“Myself, Jasper! Oh, I never troubled my head +about your wife; but I suppose there have been love affairs +between gorgios and Romany chies. Why, novels are stuffed +with such matters; and then even one of your own songs says +so—the song which Ursula was singing the other +afternoon.”</p> +<p>“That is somewhat of an old song, brother, and is sung +by the chies as a warning at our solemn festivals.”</p> +<p>“Well! but there’s your sister-in-law, Ursula, +herself, Jasper.”</p> +<p>“Ursula, herself, brother?”</p> +<p>“You were talking of my having her, Jasper.”</p> +<p>“Well, brother, why didn’t you have +her?”</p> +<p>“Would she have had me?”</p> +<p>“Of course, brother. You are so much of a Roman, +and speak Romany so remarkably well.”</p> +<p>“Poor thing! she looks very innocent!”</p> +<p>“Remarkably so, brother! however, though not born on the +same common with my wife, she knows a thing or two of Roman +matters.”</p> +<p>“I should like to ask her a question or two, Jasper, in +connection with that song.”</p> +<p>“You can do no better, brother. Here we are at the +camp. After tea, take Ursula under a hedge, and ask her a +question or two in connection with that song.”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> +<p>Sunday Evening—Ursula—Action at +Law—Meridiana—Married Already.</p> +<p>I took tea that evening with Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro and +Ursula, outside of their tent. Tawno was not present, being +engaged with his wife in his own tabernacle; Sylvester was there, +however, lolling listlessly upon the ground. As I looked +upon this man, I thought him one of the most disagreeable fellows +I had ever seen. His features were ugly, and, moreover, as +dark as pepper; and, besides being dark, his skin was +dirty. As for his dress, it was torn and sordid. His +chest was broad, and his arms seemed powerful; but, upon the +whole, he looked a very caitiff. “I am sorry that man +has lost his wife,” thought I; “for I am sure he will +never get another.” What surprises me is, that he +ever found a woman disposed to unite her lot with his!</p> +<p>After tea I got up and strolled about the field. My +thoughts were upon Isopel Berners. I wondered where she +was, and how long she would stay away. At length becoming +tired and listless, I determined to return to the dingle, and +resume the reading of the Bible at the place where I had left +off. “What better could I do,” methought, +“on a Sunday evening?” I was then near the wood +which surrounded the dingle, but at that side which was farthest +from the encampment, which stood near the entrance. +Suddenly, on turning round the southern corner of the copse, +which surrounded the dingle, I perceived Ursula seated under a +thornbush. I thought I never saw her look prettier than +then, dressed as she was, in her Sunday’s best.</p> +<p>“Good evening, Ursula,” said I; “I little +thought to have the pleasure of seeing you here.”</p> +<p>“Nor would you, brother,” said Ursula, “had +not Jasper told me that you had been talking about me, and wanted +to speak to me under a hedge; so, hearing that, I watched your +motions, and came here and sat down.”</p> +<p>“I was thinking of going to my quarters in the dingle, +to read the Bible, Ursula, but—”</p> +<p>“Oh, pray then, go to your quarters, brother, and read +the Miduveleskoe lil; you can speak to me under a hedge some +other time.”</p> +<p>“I think I will sit down with you, Ursula; for, after +all, reading godly books in dingles at eve, is rather sombre +work. Yes, I think I will sit down with you;” and I +sat down by her side.</p> +<p>“Well, brother, now you have sat down with me under the +hedge, what have you to say to me?”</p> +<p>“Why, I hardly know, Ursula.”</p> +<p>“Not know, brother; a pretty fellow you to ask young +women to come and sit with you under hedges, and, when they come, +not know what to say to them.”</p> +<p>“Oh! ah! I remember; do you know, Ursula, that I take a +great interest in you?”</p> +<p>“Thank ye, brother; kind of you, at any rate.”</p> +<p>“You must be exposed to a great many temptations, +Ursula.”</p> +<p>“A great many indeed, brother. It is hard to see +fine things, such as shawls, gold watches, and chains in the +shops, behind the big glasses, and to know that they are not +intended for one. Many’s the time I have been tempted +to make a dash at them; but I bethought myself that by so doing I +should cut my hands, besides being almost certain of being +grabbed and sent across the gull’s bath to the foreign +country.”</p> +<p>“Then you think gold and fine things temptations, +Ursula?”</p> +<p>“Of course, brother, very great temptations; don’t +you think them so?”</p> +<p>“Can’t say I do, Ursula.”</p> +<p>“Then more fool you, brother; but have the kindness to +tell me what you would call a temptation?”</p> +<p>“Why, for example, the hope of honour and renown, +Ursula.”</p> +<p>“The hope of honour and renown! very good, brother; but +I tell you one thing, that unless you have money in your pocket, +and good broad-cloth on your back, you are not likely to obtain +much honour and—what do you call it? amongst the gorgios, +to say nothing of the Romany chals.”</p> +<p>“I should have thought, Ursula, that the Romany chals, +roaming about the world as they do, free and independent, were +above being led by such trifles.”</p> +<p>“Then you know nothing of the gypsies, brother; no +people on earth are fonder of those trifles, as you call them, +than the Romany chals, and more disposed to respect those who +have them.”</p> +<p>“Then money and fine clothes would induce you to do +anything, Ursula?”</p> +<p>“Ay, ay, brother, anything.”</p> +<p>“To chore, Ursula?”</p> +<p>“Like enough, brother; gypsies have been transported +before now for choring.”</p> +<p>“To hokkawar?”</p> +<p>“Ay, ay; I was telling dukkerin only yesterday, +brother.”</p> +<p>“In fact, to break the law in everything?”</p> +<p>“Who knows, brother, who knows? as I said before, gold +and fine clothes are great temptations.”</p> +<p>“Well, Ursula, I am sorry for it, I should never have +thought you so depraved.”</p> +<p>“Indeed, brother.”</p> +<p>“To think that I am seated by one who is willing +to—to—”</p> +<p>“Go on, brother.”</p> +<p>“To play the thief.”</p> +<p>“Go on, brother.”</p> +<p>“The liar.”</p> +<p>“Go on, brother.”</p> +<p>“The—the—”</p> +<p>“Go on, brother.”</p> +<p>“The—the lubbeny.”</p> +<p>“The what, brother?” said Ursula, starting from +her seat.</p> +<p>“Why, the lubbeny; don’t you—”</p> +<p>“I tell you what, brother,” said Ursula, looking +somewhat pale, and speaking very low, “if I had only +something in my hand, I would do you a mischief.”</p> +<p>“Why, what is the matter, Ursula?” said I; +“how have I offended you?”</p> +<p>“How have you offended me? Why, didn’t you +insinivate just now that I was ready to play +the—the—”</p> +<p>“Go on, Ursula.”</p> +<p>“The—the—I’ll not say it; but I only +wish I had something in my hand.”</p> +<p>“If I have offended, Ursula, I am very sorry for it; any +offence I may have given you was from want of understanding +you. Come, pray be seated, I have much to question you +about—to talk to you about.”</p> +<p>“Seated, not I! It was only just now that you gave +me to understand that you was ashamed to be seated by me, a +thief, a liar.”</p> +<p>“Well, did you not almost give me to understand that you +were both, Ursula?”</p> +<p>“I don’t much care being called a thief and a +liar,” said Ursula; “a person may be a liar and +thief, and yet a very honest woman, but—”</p> +<p>“Well, Ursula.”</p> +<p>“I tell you what, brother, if you ever sinivate again +that I could be the third thing, so help me duvel! +I’ll do you a mischief. By my God I will!”</p> +<p>“Well, Ursula, I assure you that I shall sinivate, as +you call it, nothing of the kind about you. I have no +doubt, from what you have said, that you are a very paragon of +virtue—a perfect Lucretia; but—”</p> +<p>“My name is Ursula, brother, and not Lucretia: Lucretia +is not of our family, but one of the Bucklands; she travels about +Oxfordshire; yet I am as good as she any day.”</p> +<p>“Lucretia; how odd! Where could she have got that +name? Well, I make no doubt, Ursula, that you are quite as +good as she, and she as her namesake of ancient Rome; but there +is a mystery in this same virtue, Ursula, which I cannot fathom; +how a thief and a liar should be able, or indeed willing, to +preserve her virtue is what I don’t understand. You +confess that you are very fond of gold. Now, how is it that +you don’t barter your virtue for gold sometimes? I am +a philosopher, Ursula, and like to know everything. You +must be every now and then exposed to great temptation, Ursula; +for you are of a beauty calculated to captivate all hearts. +Come, sit down and tell me how you are enabled to resist such a +temptation as gold and fine clothes?”</p> +<p>“Well, brother,” said Ursula, “as you say +you mean no harm, I will sit down beside you, and enter into +discourse with you; but I will uphold that you are the coolest +hand that I ever came nigh, and say the coolest +things.”</p> +<p>And thereupon Ursula sat down by my side.</p> +<p>“Well, Ursula, we will, if you please, discourse on the +subject of your temptations. I suppose that you travel very +much about, and show yourself in all kinds of places?”</p> +<p>“In all kinds, brother; I travels, as you say, very much +about, attends fairs and races, and enters booths and +public-houses, where I tells fortunes, and sometimes dances and +sings.”</p> +<p>“And do not people often address you in a very free +manner?”</p> +<p>“Frequently, brother; and I give them tolerably free +answers.”</p> +<p>“Do people ever offer to make you presents? I mean +presents of value, such as—”</p> +<p>“Silk handkerchiefs, shawls, and trinkets; very +frequently, brother.”</p> +<p>“And what do you do, Ursula?”</p> +<p>“I takes what people offers me, brother, and stows it +away as soon as I can.”</p> +<p>“Well, but don’t people expect something for their +presents? I don’t mean dukkerin, dancing, and the +like; but such a moderate and innocent thing as a choomer, +Ursula?”</p> +<p>“Innocent thing, do you call it, brother?”</p> +<p>“The world calls it so, Ursula. Well, do the +people who give you the fine things never expect a choomer in +return?”</p> +<p>“Very frequently, brother.”</p> +<p>“And do you ever grant it?”</p> +<p>“Never, brother.”</p> +<p>“How do you avoid it?”</p> +<p>“I gets away as soon as possible, brother. If they +follows me, I tries to baffle them, by means of jests and +laughter; and if they persist, I uses bad and terrible language, +of which I have plenty in store.”</p> +<p>“But if your terrible language has no effect?”</p> +<p>“Then I screams for the constable, and if he comes not, +I uses my teeth and nails.”</p> +<p>“And are they always sufficient?”</p> +<p>“I have only had to use them twice, brother; but then I +found them sufficient.”</p> +<p>“But suppose the person who followed you was highly +agreeable, Ursula? A handsome young officer of local +militia, for example, all dressed in Lincoln green, would you +still refuse him the choomer?”</p> +<p>“We makes no difference, brother; the daughters of the +gypsy-father makes no difference; and what’s more, sees +none.”</p> +<p>“Well, Ursula, the world will hardly give you credit for +such indifference.”</p> +<p>“What cares we for the world, brother! we are not of the +world.”</p> +<p>“But your fathers, brothers, and uncles, give you +credit, I suppose, Ursula.”</p> +<p>“Ay, ay, brother, our fathers, brothers, and cokos gives +us all manner of credit; for example, I am telling lies and +dukkerin in a public-house where my batu or coko—perhaps +both—are playing on the fiddle; well, my batu and my coko +beholds me amongst the public-house crew, talking nonsense and +hearing nonsense; but they are under no apprehension; and +presently they sees the good-looking officer of militia, in his +greens and Lincolns, get up and give me a wink, and I go out with +him abroad, into the dark night perhaps; well, my batu and my +coko goes on fiddling just as if I were six miles off asleep in +the tent, and not out in the dark street with the local officer, +with his Lincolns and his greens.”</p> +<p>“They know they can trust you, Ursula?”</p> +<p>“Ay, ay, brother; and, what’s more, I knows I can +trust myself.”</p> +<p>“So you would merely go out to make a fool of him, +Ursula?”</p> +<p>“Merely go out to make a fool of him, brother, I assure +you.”</p> +<p>“But such proceedings really have an odd look, +Ursula.”</p> +<p>“Amongst gorgios, very so, brother.”</p> +<p>“Well, it must be rather unpleasant to lose one’s +character even amongst gorgios, Ursula; and suppose the officer, +out of revenge for being tricked and duped by you, were to say of +you the thing that is not, were to meet you on the race-course +the next day, and boast of receiving favours which he never had, +amidst a knot of jeering militia-men, how would you proceed, +Ursula? would you not be abashed?”</p> +<p>“By no means, brother; I should bring my action of law +against him.”</p> +<p>“Your action at law, Ursula?”</p> +<p>“Yes, brother, I should give a whistle, whereupon all +one’s cokos and batus, and all my near and distant +relations, would leave their fiddling, dukkerin, and +horse-dealing, and come flocking about me. +‘What’s the matter, Ursula?’ says my +coko. ‘Nothing at all,’ I replies, ‘save +and except that gorgio, in his greens and his Lincolns, says that +I have played the—with him.’ ‘Oho, he +does, Ursula,’ says my coko, ‘try your action of law +against him, my lamb,’ and he puts something privily into +my hands; whereupon I goes close up to the grinning gorgio, and +staring him in the face, with my head pushed forward, I cries +out: ‘You say I did what was wrong with you last night when +I was out with you abroad?’ ‘Yes,’ says +the local officer, ‘I says you did,’ looking down all +the time. ‘You are a liar,’ says I, and +forthwith I breaks his head with the stick which I holds behind +me, and which my coko has conveyed privily into my +hand.”</p> +<p>“And this is your action at law, Ursula?”</p> +<p>“Yes, brother, this is my action at club-law.”</p> +<p>“And would your breaking the fellow’s head quite +clear you of all suspicion in the eyes of your batus, cokos, and +what not?”</p> +<p>“They would never suspect me at all, brother, because +they would know that I would never condescend to be over-intimate +with a gorgio; the breaking the head would be merely intended to +justify Ursula in the eyes of the gorgios.”</p> +<p>“And would it clear you in their eyes?”</p> +<p>“Would it not, brother? when they saw the blood running +down from the fellow’s cracked poll on his greens and +Lincolns, they would be quite satisfied; why, the fellow would +not be able to show his face at fair or merry-making for a year +and three-quarters.”</p> +<p>“Did you ever try it, Ursula?”</p> +<p>“Can’t say I ever did, brother, but it would +do.”</p> +<p>“And how did you ever learn such a method of +proceeding?”</p> +<p>“Why, ’t is advised by gypsy liri, brother. +It’s part of our way of settling difficulties amongst +ourselves; for example, if a young Roman were to say the thing +which is not respecting Ursula and himself, Ursula would call a +great meeting of the people, who would all sit down in a ring, +the young fellow amongst them; a coko would then put a stick in +Ursula’s hand, who would then get up and go to the young +fellow, and say, ‘Did I play the—with you?’ and +were he to say ‘Yes,’ she would crack his head before +the eyes of all.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “Ursula, I was bred an +apprentice to gorgio law, and of course ought to stand up for it, +whenever I conscientiously can, but I must say the gypsy manner +of bringing an action for defamation is much less tedious, and +far more satisfactory, than the gorgiko one. I wish you now +to clear up a certain point which is rather mysterious to +me. You say that for a Romany chi to do what is unseemly +with a gorgio is quite out of the question, yet only the other +day I heard you singing a song in which a Romany chi confesses +herself to be cambri by a grand gorgious gentleman.”</p> +<p>“A sad let down,” said Ursula.</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “sad or not, there’s +the song that speaks of the thing, which you give me to +understand is not.”</p> +<p>“Well, if the thing ever was,” said Ursula, +“it was a long time ago, and perhaps, after all, not +true.”</p> +<p>“Then why do you sing the song?”</p> +<p>“I’ll tell you, brother, we sings the song now and +then to be a warning to ourselves to have as little to do as +possible in the way of acquaintance with the gorgios; and a +warning it is; you see how the young woman in the song was driven +out of her tent by her mother, with all kind of disgrace and bad +language; but you don’t know that she was afterwards buried +alive by her cokos and pals, in an uninhabited place; the song +doesn’t say it, but the story says it, for there is a story +about it, though, as I said before, it was a long time ago, and +perhaps, after all, wasn’t true.”</p> +<p>“But if such a thing were to happen at present, would +the cokos and pals bury the girl alive?”</p> +<p>“I can’t say what they would do,” said +Ursula; “I suppose they are not so strict as they were long +ago; at any rate, she would be driven from the tan, and avoided +by all her family and relations as a gorgio’s acquaintance; +so that, perhaps, at last, she would be glad if they would bury +her alive.”</p> +<p>“Well, I can conceive that there would be an objection +on the part of the cokos and batus that a Romany chi should form +an improper acquaintance with a gorgio, but I should think that +the batus and cokos could hardly object to the chi’s +entering into the honourable estate of wedlock with a +gorgio.”</p> +<p>Ursula was silent.</p> +<p>“Marriage is an honourable estate, Ursula.”</p> +<p>“Well, brother, suppose it be?”</p> +<p>“I don’t see why a Romany chi should object to +enter into the honourable estate of wedlock with a +gorgio.”</p> +<p>“You don’t, brother; don’t you?”</p> +<p>“No,” said I; “and, moreover, I am aware, +notwithstanding your evasion, Ursula, that marriages and +connections now and then occur between gorgios and Romany chies; +the result of which is the mixed breed, called half and half, +which is at present travelling about England, and to which the +Flaming Tinman belongs, otherwise called Anselo Herne.”</p> +<p>“As for the half and halfs,” said Ursula, +“they are a bad set; and there is not a worse blackguard in +England than Anselo Herne.”</p> +<p>“All that you say may be very true, Ursula, but you +admit that there are half and halfs.”</p> +<p>“The more’s the pity, brother.”</p> +<p>“Pity, or not, you admit the fact; but how do you +account for it?”</p> +<p>“How do I account for it? why, I will tell you, by the +break up of a Roman family, brother—the father of a small +family dies, and, perhaps, the mother; and the poor children are +left behind; sometimes, they are gathered up by their relations, +and sometimes, if they have none, by charitable Romans, who bring +them up in the observance of gypsy law; but sometimes they are +not so lucky, and falls into the company of gorgios, trampers, +and basket-makers, who live in caravans, with whom they take up, +and so—I hate to talk of the matter, brother; but so comes +this race of the half and halfs.”</p> +<p>“Then you mean to say, Ursula, that no Romany chi, +unless compelled by hard necessity, would have anything to do +with a gorgio?”</p> +<p>“We are not over-fond of gorgios, brother, and we hates +basket-makers, and folks that live in caravans.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “suppose a gorgio who is not +a basket-maker, a fine, handsome gorgious gentleman, who lives in +a fine house—”</p> +<p>“We are not fond of houses, brother; I never slept in a +house in my life.”</p> +<p>“But would not plenty of money induce you?”</p> +<p>“I hate houses, brother, and those who live in +them.”</p> +<p>“Well, suppose such a person were willing to resign his +fine house; and, for love of you, to adopt gypsy law, speak +Romany, and live in a tan, would you have nothing to say to +him?”</p> +<p>“Bringing plenty of money with him, brother?”</p> +<p>“Well, bringing plenty of money with him, +Ursula.”</p> +<p>“Well, brother, suppose you produce your man; where is +he?”</p> +<p>“I was merely supposing such a person, +Ursula.”</p> +<p>“Then you don’t know of such a person, +brother?”</p> +<p>“Why, no, Ursula; why do you ask?”</p> +<p>“Because, brother, I was almost beginning to think that +you meant yourself.”</p> +<p>“Myself! Ursula; I have no fine house to resign; +nor have I money. Moreover, Ursula, though I have a great +regard for you, and though I consider you very handsome, quite as +handsome, indeed, as Meridiana in—”</p> +<p>“Meridiana! where did you meet with her?” said +Ursula, with a toss of her head.</p> +<p>“Why, in old Pulci’s—”</p> +<p>“At old Fulcher’s! that’s not true, +brother. Meridiana is a Borzlam, and travels with her own +people, and not with old Fulcher, who is a gorgio, and a +basket-maker.”</p> +<p>“I was not speaking of old Fulcher, but Pulci, a great +Italian writer, who lived many hundred years ago, and who, in his +poem called ‘Morgante Maggiore,’ speaks of Meridiana, +the daughter of—”</p> +<p>“Old Carus Borzlam,” said Ursula; “but if +the fellow you mention lived so many hundred years ago, how, in +the name of wonder, could he know anything of +Meridiana?”</p> +<p>“The wonder, Ursula, is, how your people could ever have +got hold of that name, and similar ones. The Meridiana of +Pulci was not the daughter of old Carus Borzlam, but of Caradoro, +a great pagan king of the East, who, being besieged in his +capital by Manfredonio, another mighty pagan king, who wished to +obtain possession of his daughter, who had refused him, was +relieved in his distress by certain paladins of Charlemagne, with +one of whom, Oliver, his daughter Meridiana fell in +love.”</p> +<p>“I see,” said, Ursula, “that it must have +been altogether a different person, for I am sure that Meridiana +Borzlam would never have fallen in love with Oliver. +Oliver! why, that is the name of the curo-mengro, who lost the +fight near the chong gav, the day of the great tempest, when I +got wet through. No, no! Meridiana Borzlam would +never have so far forgot her blood as to take up with Tom +Oliver.”</p> +<p>“I was not talking of that Oliver, Ursula, but of +Oliver, peer of France, and paladin of Charlemagne, with whom +Meridiana, daughter of Caradoro, fell in love, and for whose sake +she renounced her religion and became a Christian, and finally +ingravidata, or cambri, by him:—</p> +<blockquote><p>‘E nacquene un figliuol, dice la storia,<br +/> +Che dette a Carlo-man poi gran vittoria;’</p> +</blockquote> +<p>which means—”</p> +<p>“I don’t want to know what it means,” said +Ursula; “no good, I’m sure. Well, if the +Meridiana of Charles’s wain’s pal was no handsomer +than Meridiana Borzlam, she was no great catch, brother; for +though I am by no means given to vanity, I think myself better to +look at than she, though I will say she is no lubbeny, and would +scorn—”</p> +<p>“I make no doubt she would, Ursula, and I make no doubt +that you are much handsomer than she, or even the Meridiana of +Oliver. What I was about to say, before you interrupted me, +is this, that though I have a great regard for you, and highly +admire you, it is only in a brotherly way, and—”</p> +<p>“And you had nothing better to say to me,” said +Ursula, “when you wanted to talk to me beneath a hedge, +than that you liked me in a brotherly way I well, I +declare—”</p> +<p>“You seem disappointed, Ursula.”</p> +<p>“Disappointed, brother! not I.”</p> +<p>“You were just now saying that you disliked gorgios, so, +of course, could only wish that I, who am a gorgio, should like +you in a brotherly way: I wished to have a conversation with you +beneath a hedge, but only with the view of procuring from you +some information respecting the song which you sung the other +day, and the conduct of Roman females, which has always struck me +as being highly unaccountable; so, if you thought anything +else—”</p> +<p>“What else should I expect from a picker-up of old +words, brother? Bah! I dislike a picker-up of old words +worse than a picker-up of old rags.”</p> +<p>“Don’t be angry, Ursula, I feel a great interest +in you; you are very handsome, and very clever; indeed, with your +beauty and cleverness, I only wonder that you have not long since +been married.”</p> +<p>“You do, do you, brother?”</p> +<p>“Yes. However, keep up your spirits, Ursula, you +are not much past the prime of youth, so—”</p> +<p>“Not much past the prime of youth! Don’t be +uncivil, brother, I was only twenty-two last month.”</p> +<p>“Don’t be offended, Ursula, but twenty-two is +twenty-two, or, I should rather say, that twenty-two in a woman +is more than twenty-six in a man. You are still very +beautiful, but I advise you to accept the first offer +that’s made to you.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, brother, but your advice comes rather late; +I accepted the first offer that was made me five years +ago.”</p> +<p>“You married five years ago, Ursula! is it +possible?”</p> +<p>“Quite possible, brother, I assure you.”</p> +<p>“And how came I to know nothing about it?”</p> +<p>“How comes it that you don’t know many thousand +things about the Romans, brother? Do you think they tell +you all their affairs?”</p> +<p>“Married, Ursula, married! well, I declare!”</p> +<p>“You seem disappointed, brother.”</p> +<p>“Disappointed! Oh! no, not at all; but Jasper, +only a few weeks ago, told me that you were not married; and, +indeed, almost gave me to understand that you would be very glad +to get a husband.”</p> +<p>“And you believed him? I’ll tell you, +brother, for your instruction, that there is not in the whole +world a greater liar than Jasper Petulengro.”</p> +<p>“I am sorry to hear it, Ursula; but with respect to him +you married—who might he be? A gorgio, or a Romany +chal?”</p> +<p>“Gorgio, or Romany chal! Do you think I would ever +condescend to a gorgio! It was a Camomescro, brother, a +Lovell, a distant relation of my own.”</p> +<p>“And where is he? and what became of him! Have you +any family?”</p> +<p>“Don’t think I am going to tell you all my +history, brother; and, to tell you the truth, I am tired of +sitting under hedges with you, talking nonsense. I shall go +to my house.”</p> +<p>“Do sit a little longer, sister Ursula. I most +heartily congratulate you on your marriage. But where is +this same Lovell? I have never seen him: I wish to +congratulate him too. You are quite as handsome as the +Meridiana of Pulci, Ursula, ay, or the Despina of +Riciardetto. Riciardetto, Ursula, is a poem written by one +Fortiguerra, about ninety years ago, in imitation of the Morgante +of Pulci. It treats of the wars of Charlemagne and his +Paladins with various barbarous nations, who came to besiege +Paris. Despina was the daughter and heiress of Scricca, +King of Cafria; she was the beloved of Riciardetto, and was +beautiful as an angel; but I make no doubt you are quite as +handsome as she.”</p> +<p>“Brother,” said Ursula—but the reply of +Ursula I reserve for another chapter, the present having attained +to rather an uncommon length, for which, however, the importance +of the matter discussed is a sufficient apology.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<p>Ursula’s Tale—The Patteran—The Deep +Water—Second Husband.</p> +<p>“Brother,” said Ursula, plucking a dandelion which +grew at her feet, “I have always said that a more civil and +pleasant-spoken person than yourself can’t be found. +I have a great regard for you and your learning, and am willing +to do you any pleasure in the way of words or conversation. +Mine is not a very happy story, but as you wish to hear it, it is +quite at your service. Launcelot Lovell made me an offer, +as you call it, and we were married in Roman fashion; that is, we +gave each other our right hands, and promised to be true to each +other. We lived together two years, travelling sometimes by +ourselves, sometimes with our relations; I bore him two children, +both of which were still-born, partly, I believe, from the +fatigue I underwent in running about the country telling dukkerin +when I was not exactly in a state to do so, and partly from the +kicks and blows which my husband Launcelot was in the habit of +giving me every night, provided I came home with less than five +shillings, which it is sometimes impossible to make in the +country, provided no fair or merry-making is going on. At +the end of two years my husband, Launcelot, whistled a horse from +a farmer’s field, and sold it for forty-pounds; and for +that horse he was taken, put in prison, tried, and condemned to +be sent to the other country for life. Two days before he +was to be sent away, I got leave to see him in the prison, and in +the presence of the turnkey I gave him a thin cake of +gingerbread, in which there was a dainty saw which could cut +through iron. I then took on wonderfully, turned my eyes +inside out, fell down in a seeming fit, and was carried out of +the prison. That same night my husband sawed his irons off, +cut through the bars of his window, and dropping down a height of +fifty feet, lighted on his legs, and came and joined me on a +heath where I was camped alone. We were just getting things +ready to be off, when we heard people coming, and sure enough +they were runners after my husband, Launcelot Lovell; for his +escape had been discovered within a quarter of an hour after he +had got away. My husband, without bidding me farewell, set +off at full speed, and they after him, but they could not take +him, and so they came back and took me, and shook me, and +threatened me, and had me before the poknees, who shook his head +at me, and threatened me in order to make me discover where my +husband was, but I said I did not know, which was true enough; +not that I would have told him if I had. So at last the +poknees and the runners, not being able to make anything out of +me, were obliged to let me go, and I went in search of my +husband. I wandered about with my cart for several days in +the direction in which I saw him run off, with my eyes bent on +the ground, but could see no marks of him; at last, coming to +four cross roads, I saw my husband’s patteran.”</p> +<p>“You saw your husband’s patteran?”</p> +<p>“Yes, brother. Do you know what patteran +means?”</p> +<p>“Of course, Ursula; the gypsy trail, the handful of +grass which the gypsies strew in the roads as they travel, to +give information to any of their companions who may be behind, as +to the route they have taken. The gypsy patteran has always +had a strange interest for me, Ursula.”</p> +<p>“Like enough, brother; but what does patteran +mean?”</p> +<p>“Why, the gypsy trail, formed as I told you +before.”</p> +<p>“And you know nothing more about patteran, +brother?”</p> +<p>“Nothing at all, Ursula; do you?”</p> +<p>“What’s the name for the leaf of a tree, +brother?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” said I; “it’s +odd enough that I have asked that question of a dozen Romany +chals and chies, and they always told me that they did not +know.”</p> +<p>“No more they did, brother; there’s only one +person in England that knows, and that’s myself—the +name for a leaf is patteran. Now there are two that knows +it—the other is yourself.”</p> +<p>“Dear me, Ursula, how very strange! I am much +obliged to you. I think I never saw you look so pretty as +you do now; but who told you?”</p> +<p>“My mother, Mrs. Herne, told it me one day, brother, +when she was in a good humour, which she very seldom was, as no +one has a better right to know than yourself, as she hated you +mortally: it was one day when you had been asking our company +what was the word for a leaf, and nobody could tell you, that she +took me aside and told me, for she was in a good humour, and +triumphed in seeing you balked. She told me the word for +leaf was patteran, which our people use now for trail, having +forgotten the true meaning. She said that the trail was +called patteran, because the gypsies of old were in the habit of +making the marks with the leaves and branches of trees, placed in +a certain manner. She said that nobody knew it but herself, +who was one of the old sort, and begged me never to tell the word +to any one but him I should marry; and to be particularly +cautious never to let you know it, whom she hated. Well, +brother, perhaps I have done wrong to tell you; but, as I said +before, I likes you, and am always ready to do your pleasure in +words and conversation; my mother, moreover, is dead and gone, +and, poor thing, will never know anything about the matter. +So, when I married, I told my husband about the patteran, and we +were in the habit of making our private trails with leaves and +branches of trees, which none of the other gypsy people did; so, +when I saw my husband’s patteran, I knew it at once, and I +followed it upwards of two hundred miles towards the north; and +then I came to a deep, awful-looking water, with an overhanging +bank, and on the bank I found the patteran, which directed me to +proceed along the bank towards the east, and I followed my +husband’s patteran towards the east; and before I had gone +half a mile, I came to a place where I saw the bank had given +way, and fallen into the deep water. Without paying much +heed, I passed on, and presently came to a public-house, not far +from the water, and I entered the public-house to get a little +beer, and perhaps to tell a dukkerin, for I saw a great many +people about the door; and, when I entered, I found there was +what they calls an inquest being held upon a body in that house, +and the jury had just risen to go and look at the body; and being +a woman, and having a curiosity, I thought I would go with them, +and so I did; and no sooner did I see the body, than I knew it to +be my husband’s; it was much swelled and altered, but I +knew it partly by the clothes, and partly by a mark on the +forehead, and I cried out, ‘It is my husband’s +body,’ and I fell down in a fit, and the fit that time, +brother, was not a seeming one.”</p> +<p>“Dear me,” said I, “how terrible! but tell +me, Ursula, how did your husband come by his death?”</p> +<p>“The bank, overhanging the deep water, gave way under +him, brother, and he was drowned; for, like most of our people, +he could not swim, or only a little. The body, after it had +been in the water a long time, came up of itself, and was found +floating. Well, brother, when the people of the +neighbourhood found that I was the wife of the drowned man, they +were very kind to me, and made a subscription for me, with which, +after having seen my husband buried, I returned the way I had +come, till I met Jasper and his people, and with them I have +travelled ever since: I was very melancholy for a long time, I +assure you, brother; for the death of my husband preyed very much +upon my mind.”</p> +<p>“His death was certainly a very shocking one, Ursula; +but, really, if he had died a natural one, you could scarcely +have regretted it, for he appears to have treated you +barbarously.”</p> +<p>“Women must bear, brother; and, barring that he kicked +and beat me, and drove me out to tell dukkerin when I could +scarcely stand, he was not a bad husband. A man, by gypsy +law, brother, is allowed to kick and beat his wife, and to bury +her alive, if he thinks proper. I am a gypsy, and have +nothing to say against the law.”</p> +<p>“But what has Mikailia Chikno to say about +it?”</p> +<p>“She is a cripple, brother, the only cripple amongst the +Roman people: so she is allowed to do and say as she +pleases. Moreover, her husband does not think fit to kick +or beat her, though it is my opinion she would like him all the +better if he were occasionally to do so, and threaten to bury her +alive; at any rate, she would treat him better, and respect him +more.”</p> +<p>“Your sister does not seem to stand much in awe of +Jasper Petulengro, Ursula.”</p> +<p>“Let the matters of my sister and Jasper Petulengro +alone, brother; you must travel in their company some time before +you can understand them; they are a strange two, up to all kind +of chaffing: but two more regular Romans don’t breathe, and +I’ll tell you, for your instruction, that there isn’t +a better mare-breaker in England than Jasper Petulengro, if you +can manage Miss Isopel Berners as well as—”</p> +<p>“Isopel Berners,” said I, “how came you to +think of her?”</p> +<p>“How should I but think of her, brother, living as she +does with you in Mumper’s dingle, and travelling about with +you; you will have, brother, more difficulty to manage her, than +Jasper has to manage my sister Pakomovna. I should have +mentioned her before, only I wanted to know what you had to say +to me; and when we got into discourse, I forgot her. I say, +brother, let me tell you your dukkerin, with respect to her, you +will never—”</p> +<p>“I want to hear no dukkerin, Ursula.”</p> +<p>“Do let me tell you your dukkerin, brother, you will +never manage—”</p> +<p>“I want to hear no dukkerin, Ursula, in connection with +Isopel Berners. Moreover, it is Sunday, we will change the +subject; it is surprising to me that, after all you have +undergone, you should look so beautiful. I suppose you do +not think of marrying again, Ursula?”</p> +<p>“No, brother, one husband at a time is quite enough for +any reasonable mort; especially such a good husband as I have +got.”</p> +<p>“Such a good husband! why, I thought you told me your +husband was drowned?”</p> +<p>“Yes, brother, my first husband was.”</p> +<p>“And have you a second?”</p> +<p>“To be sure, brother.”</p> +<p>“And who is he? in the name of wonder.”</p> +<p>“Who is he? why Sylvester, to be sure.”</p> +<p>“I do assure you, Ursula, that I feel disposed to be +angry with you; such a handsome young woman as yourself to take +up with such a nasty pepper-faced good for +nothing—”</p> +<p>“I won’t hear my husband abused, brother; so you +had better say no more.”</p> +<p>“Why, is he not the Lazarus of the gypsies? has he a +penny of his own, Ursula?”</p> +<p>“Then the more his want, brother, of a clever chi like +me to take care of him and his childer. I tell you what, +brother, I will chore, if necessary, and tell dukkerin for +Sylvester, if even so heavy as scarcely to be able to +stand. You call him lazy; you would not think him lazy if +you were in a ring with him: he is a proper man with his hands; +Jasper is going to back him for twenty pounds against Slammocks +of the Chong gav, the brother of Roarer and Bell-metal, he says +he has no doubt that he will win.”</p> +<p>“Well, if you like him, I, of course, can have no +objection. Have you been long married?”</p> +<p>“About a fortnight, brother; that dinner, the other day, +when I sang the song, was given in celebration of the +wedding.”</p> +<p>“Were you married in a church, Ursula?”</p> +<p>“We were not, brother; none but gorgios, cripples, and +lubbenys are ever married in a church: we took each other’s +words. Brother, I have been with you near three hours +beneath this hedge. I will go to my husband.”</p> +<p>“Does he know that you are here?”</p> +<p>“He does, brother.”</p> +<p>“And is he satisfied?”</p> +<p>“Satisfied! of course. Lor’, you +gorgies! Brother, I go to my husband and my +house.” And, thereupon, Ursula rose and departed.</p> +<p>After waiting a little time I also arose; it was now dark, and +I thought I could do no better than betake myself to the dingle; +at the entrance of it I found Mr. Petulengro. “Well, +brother,” said he, “what kind of conversation have +you and Ursula had beneath the hedge?”</p> +<p>“If you wished to hear what we were talking about, you +should have come and sat down beside us; you knew where we +were.”</p> +<p>“Well, brother, I did much the same, for I went and sat +down behind you.”</p> +<p>“Behind the hedge, Jasper?”</p> +<p>“Behind the hedge, brother.”</p> +<p>“And heard all our conversation.”</p> +<p>“Every word, brother; and a rum conversation it +was.”</p> +<p>“’Tis an old saying, Jasper, that listeners never +hear any good of themselves; perhaps you heard the epithet that +Ursula bestowed upon you.”</p> +<p>“If, by epitaph, you mean that she called me a liar, I +did, brother, and she was not much wrong, for I certainly do not +always stick exactly to truth; you, however, have not much to +complain of me.”</p> +<p>“You deceived me about Ursula, giving me to understand +she was not married.”</p> +<p>“She was not married when I told you so, brother; that +is, not to Sylvester; nor was I aware that she was going to marry +him. I once thought you had a kind of regard for her, and I +am sure she had as much for you as a Romany chi can have for a +gorgio. I half expected to have heard you make love to her +behind the hedge, but I begin to think you care for nothing in +this world but old words and strange stories. Lor’ to +take a young woman under a hedge, and talk to her as you did to +Ursula; and yet you got everything out of her that you wanted, +with your gammon about old Fulcher and Meridiana. You are a +cunning one, brother.”</p> +<p>“There you are mistaken, Jasper. I am not +cunning. If people think I am, it is because, being made up +of art themselves, simplicity of character is a puzzle to +them. Your women are certainly extraordinary creatures, +Jasper.”</p> +<p>“Didn’t I say they were rum animals? +Brother, we Romans shall always stick together as long as they +stick fast to us.”</p> +<p>“Do you think they always will, Jasper?”</p> +<p>“Can’t say, brother; nothing lasts for ever. +Romany chies are Romany chies still, though not exactly what they +were sixty years ago. My wife, though a rum one, is not +Mrs. Herne, brother. I think she is rather fond of +Frenchmen and French discourse. I tell you what, brother, +if ever gypsyism breaks up, it will be owing to our chies having +been bitten by that mad puppy they calls gentility.”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> +<p>The Dingle at Night—The Two Sides of the +Question—Roman Females—Filling the Kettle—The +Dream—The Tall Figure.</p> +<p>I descended to the bottom of the dingle. It was nearly +involved in obscurity. To dissipate the feeling of +melancholy which came over my mind, I resolved to kindle a fire; +and having heaped dry sticks upon my hearth, and added a billet +or two, I struck a light, and soon produced a blaze. +Sitting down, I fixed my eyes upon the blaze, and soon fell into +a deep meditation. I thought of the events of the day, the +scene at church, and what I had heard at church, the danger of +losing one’s soul, the doubts of Jasper Petulengro as to +whether one had a soul. I thought over the various +arguments which I had either heard, or which had come +spontaneously to my mind, for or against the probability of a +state of future existence. They appeared to me to be +tolerably evenly balanced. I then thought that it was at +all events taking the safest part to conclude that there was a +soul. It would be a terrible thing, after having passed +one’s life in the disbelief of the existence of a soul, to +wake up after death a soul, and to find one’s self a lost +soul. Yes, methought I would come to the conclusion that +one has a soul. Choosing the safe side, however, appeared +to me to be playing a rather dastardly part. I had never +been an admirer of people who chose the safe side in everything; +indeed I had always entertained a thorough contempt for +them. Surely it would be showing more manhood to adopt the +dangerous side, that of disbelief; I almost resolved to do +so—but yet in a question of so much importance, I ought not +to be guided by vanity. The question was not which was the +safe, but the true side? yet how was I to know which was the true +side? Then I thought of the Bible—which I had been +reading in the morning—that spoke of the soul and a future +state; but was the Bible true? I had heard learned and +moral men say that it was true, but I had also heard learned and +moral men say that it was not: how was I to decide? Still +that balance of probabilities! If I could but see the way +of truth, I would follow it, if necessary, upon hands and knees; +on that I was determined; but I could not see it. Feeling +my brain begin to turn round, I resolved to think of something +else; and forthwith began to think of what had passed between +Ursula and myself in our discourse beneath the hedge.</p> +<p>I mused deeply on what she had told me as to the virtue of the +females of her race. How singular that virtue must be which +was kept pure and immaculate by the possessor, whilst indulging +in habits of falsehood and dishonesty! I had always thought +the gypsy females extraordinary beings. I had often +wondered at them, their dress, their manner of speaking, and, not +least, at their names; but, until the present day, I had been +unacquainted with the most extraordinary point connected with +them. How came they possessed of this extraordinary virtue? +was it because they were thievish? I remembered that an +ancient thief-taker, who had retired from his useful calling, and +who frequently visited the office of my master at law, the +respectable S---, who had the management of his property—I +remembered to have heard this worthy, with whom I occasionally +held discourse, philosophic and profound, when he and I chanced +to be alone together in the office, say that all first-rate +thieves were sober, and of well-regulated morals, their bodily +passions being kept in abeyance by their love of gain; but this +axiom could scarcely hold good with respect to these +women—however thievish they might be, they did care for +something besides gain: they cared for their husbands. If +they did thieve, they merely thieved for their husbands; and +though, perhaps, some of them were vain, they merely prized their +beauty because it gave them favour in the eyes of their +husbands. Whatever the husbands were—and Jasper had +almost insinuated that the males occasionally allowed themselves +some latitude—they appeared to be as faithful to their +husbands as the ancient Roman matrons were to theirs. Roman +matrons! and, after all, might not these be in reality Roman +matrons? They called themselves Romans; might not they be +the descendants of the old Roman matrons? Might not they be +of the same blood as Lucretia? And were not many of their +strange names—Lucretia amongst the rest—handed down +to them from old Rome? It is true their language was not +that of old Rome; it was not, however, altogether different from +it. After all, the ancient Romans might be a tribe of these +people, who settled down and founded a village with the tilts of +carts, which, by degrees, and the influx of other people, became +the grand city of the world. I liked the idea of the grand +city of the world owing its origin to a people who had been in +the habit of carrying their houses in their carts. Why, +after all, should not the Romans of history be a branch of these +Romans? There were several points of similarity between +them; if Roman matrons were chaste, both men and women were +thieves. Old Rome was the thief of the world; yet still +there were difficulties to be removed before I could persuade +myself that the old Romans and my Romans were identical; and in +trying to remove these difficulties, I felt my brain once more +beginning to turn, and in haste took up another subject of +meditation, and that was the patteran, and what Ursula had told +me about it.</p> +<p>I had always entertained a strange interest for that sign by +which in their wanderings the Romanese gave to those of their +people who came behind intimation as to the direction which they +took; but it now inspired me with greater interest than +ever,—now that I had learnt that the proper meaning of it +was the leaves of trees. I had, as I had said in my +dialogue with Ursula, been very eager to learn the word for leaf +in the Romanian language, but had never learnt it till this day; +so patteran signified leaf of a tree; and no one at present knew +that but myself and Ursula, who had learnt it from Mrs. Herne, +the last, it was said, of the old stock; and then I thought what +strange people the gypsies must have been in the old time. +They were sufficiently strange at present, but they must have +been far stranger of old; they must have been a more peculiar +people—their language must have been more perfect—and +they must have had a greater stock of strange secrets. I +almost wished that I had lived some two or three hundred years +ago, that I might have observed these people when they were yet +stranger than at present. I wondered whether I could have +introduced myself to their company at that period, whether I +should have been so fortunate as to meet such a strange, +half-malicious, half good-humoured being as Jasper, who would +have instructed me in the language, then more deserving of note +than at present. What might I not have done with that +language, had I known it in its purity? Why, I might have +written books in it; yet those who spoke it would hardly have +admitted me to their society at that period, when they kept more +to themselves. Yet I thought that I might possibly have +gained their confidence, and have wandered about with them, and +learnt their language, and all their strange ways, and +then—and then—and a sigh rose from the depth of my +breast; for I began to think, “Supposing I had accomplished +all this, what would have been the profit of it; and in what +would all this wild gypsy dream have terminated?”</p> +<p>Then rose another sigh, yet more profound, for I began to +think, “What was likely to be the profit of my present way +of life; the living in dingles, making pony and donkey shoes, +conversing with gypsy-women under hedges, and extracting from +them their odd secrets?” What was likely to be the +profit of such a kind of life, even should it continue for a +length of time?—a supposition not very probable, for I was +earning nothing to support me, and the funds with which I had +entered upon this life were gradually disappearing. I was +living, it is true, not unpleasantly, enjoying the healthy air of +heaven; but, upon the whole, was I not sadly misspending my +time? Surely I was; and, as I looked back, it appeared to +me that I had always been doing so. What had been the +profit of the tongues which I had learnt? had they ever assisted +me in the day of hunger? No, no! it appeared to me that I +had always misspent my time, save in one instance, when by a +desperate effort I had collected all the powers of my +imagination, and written the “Life of Joseph Sell;” +but even when I wrote the Life of Sell, was I not in a false +position? Provided I had not misspent my time, would it +have been necessary to make that effort, which, after all, had +only enabled me to leave London, and wander about the country for +a time? But could I, taking all circumstances into +consideration, have done better than I had? With my +peculiar temperament and ideas, could I have pursued with +advantage the profession to which my respectable parents had +endeavoured to bring me up? It appeared to me that I could +not, and that the hand of necessity had guided me from my +earliest years, until the present night, in which I found myself +seated in the dingle, staring on the brands of the fire. +But ceasing to think of the past which, as irrecoverably gone, it +was useless to regret, even were there cause to regret it, what +should I do in future? Should I write another book like the +Life of Joseph Sell; take it to London, and offer it to a +publisher? But when I reflected on the grisly sufferings +which I had undergone whilst engaged in writing the Life of Sell, +I shrank from the idea of a similar attempt; moreover, I doubted +whether I possessed the power to write a similar +work—whether the materials for the life of another Sell +lurked within the recesses of my brain? Had I not better +become in reality what I had hitherto been merely playing +at—a tinker or a gypsy? But I soon saw that I was not +fitted to become either in reality. It was much more +agreeable to play the gypsy or the tinker than to become either +in reality. I had seen enough of gypsying and tinkering to +be convinced of that. All of a sudden the idea of tilling +the soil came into my head; tilling the soil was a healthful and +noble pursuit! but my idea of tilling the soil had no connection +with Britain; for I could only expect to till the soil in Britain +as a serf. I thought of tilling it in America, in which it +was said there was plenty of wild, unclaimed land, of which any +one, who chose to clear it of its trees, might take +possession. I figured myself in America, in an immense +forest, clearing the land destined, by my exertions, to become a +fruitful and smiling plain. Methought I heard the crash of +the huge trees as they fell beneath my axe; and then I bethought +me that a man was intended to marry—I ought to marry; and +if I married, where was I likely to be more happy as a husband +and a father than in America, engaged in tilling the +ground? I fancied myself in America, engaged in tilling the +ground, assisted by an enormous progeny. Well, why not +marry, and go and till the ground in America? I was young, +and youth was the time to marry in, and to labour in. I had +the use of all my faculties; my eyes, it is true, were rather +dull from early study, and from writing the Life of Joseph Sell; +but I could see tolerably well with them, and they were not +bleared. I felt my arms, and thighs, and teeth—they +were strong and sound enough; so now was the time to labour, to +marry, eat strong flesh, and beget strong children—the +power of doing all this would pass away with youth, which was +terribly transitory. I bethought me that a time would come +when my eyes would be bleared, and, perhaps, sightless; my arms +and thighs strengthless and sapless; when my teeth would shake in +my jaws, even supposing they did not drop out. No going a +wooing then—no labouring—no eating strong flesh, and +begetting lusty children then; and I bethought me how, when all +this should be, I should bewail the days of my youth as misspent, +provided I had not in them founded for myself a home, and +begotten strong children to take care of me in the days when I +could not take care of myself; and thinking of these things, I +became sadder and sadder, and stared vacantly upon the fire till +my eyes closed in a doze.</p> +<p>I continued dozing over the fire, until rousing myself I +perceived that the brands were nearly consumed, and I thought of +retiring for the night. I arose, and was about to enter my +tent, when a thought struck me. “Suppose,” +thought I, “that Isopel Berners should return in the midst +of the night, how dark and dreary would the dingle appear without +a fire! truly, I will keep up the fire, and I will do more; I +have no board to spread for her, but I will fill the kettle, and +heat it, so that, if she comes, I may be able to welcome her with +a cup of tea, for I know she loves tea.” Thereupon, I +piled more wood upon the fire, and soon succeeded in procuring a +better blaze than before; then, taking the kettle, I set out for +the spring. On arriving at the mouth of the dingle, which +fronted the east, I perceived that Charles’s wain was +nearly opposite to it, high above in the heavens, by which I knew +that the night was tolerably well advanced. The gypsy +encampment lay before me; all was hushed and still within it, and +its inmates appeared to be locked in slumber; as I advanced, +however, the dogs, which were fastened outside the tents, growled +and barked; but presently recognising me, they were again silent, +some of them wagging their tails. As I drew near a +particular tent, I heard a female voice say—“Some one +is coming!” and, as I was about to pass it, the cloth which +formed the door was suddenly lifted up, and a black head and part +of a huge naked body protruded. It was the head and upper +part of the giant Tawno, who, according to the fashion of gypsy +men, lay next the door wrapped in his blanket; the blanket had, +however, fallen off, and the starlight shone clear on his +athletic tawny body, and was reflected from his large staring +eyes.</p> +<p>“It is only I, Tawno,” said I, “going to +fill the kettle, as it is possible that Miss Berners may arrive +this night.” “Kos-ko,” drawled out Tawno, +and replaced the curtain. “Good, do you call +it?” said the sharp voice of his wife; “there is no +good in the matter! if that young chap were not living with the +rawnee in the illegal and uncertificated line, he would not be +getting up in the middle of the night to fill her +kettles.” Passing on, I proceeded to the spring, +where I filled the kettle, and then returned to the dingle.</p> +<p>Placing the kettle upon the fire, I watched it till it began +to boil; then removing it from the top of the brands, I placed it +close beside the fire, and leaving it simmering, I retired to my +tent; where, having taken off my shoes, and a few of my garments, +I lay down on my palliasse, and was not long in falling +asleep. I believe I slept soundly for some time, thinking +and dreaming of nothing; suddenly, however, my sleep became +disturbed, and the subject of the patterans began to occupy my +brain. I imagined that I saw Ursula tracing her husband, +Launcelot Lovel, by means of his patterans; I imagined that she +had considerable difficulty in doing so; that she was +occasionally interrupted by parish beadles and constables, who +asked her whither she was travelling, to whom she gave various +answers. Presently methought that, as she was passing by a +farm-yard, two fierce and savage dogs flew at her; I was in great +trouble, I remember, and wished to assist her, but could not, for +though I seemed to see her, I was still at a distance: and now it +appeared that she had escaped from the dogs, and was proceeding +with her cart along a gravelly path which traversed a wild moor; +I could hear the wheels grating amidst sand and gravel. The +next moment I was awake, and found myself sitting up in my tent; +there was a glimmer of light through the canvas caused by the +fire; a feeling of dread came over me, which was perhaps natural, +on starting suddenly from one’s sleep in that wild lone +place; I half imagined that some one was nigh the tent; the idea +made me rather uncomfortable, and, to dissipate it, I lifted up +the canvas of the door and peeped out, and, lo! I had a distinct +view of a tall figure standing by the tent. “Who is +that?” said I, whilst I felt my blood rush to my +heart. “It is I,” said the voice of Isopel +Berners; “you little expected me, I dare say; well, sleep +on, I do not wish to disturb you.” “But I was +expecting you,” said I, recovering myself, “as you +may see by the fire and kettle. I will be with you in a +moment.”</p> +<p>Putting on in haste the articles of dress which I had flung +off, I came out of the tent, and addressing myself to Isopel, who +was standing beside her cart, I said—“just as I was +about to retire to rest I thought it possible that you might come +to-night, and got everything in readiness for you. Now, sit +down by the fire whilst I lead the donkey and cart to the place +where you stay; I will unharness the animal, and presently come +and join you.” “I need not trouble you,” +said Isopel; “I will go myself and see after my +things.” “We will go together,” said I, +“and then return and have some tea.” Isopel +made no objection, and in about half-an-hour we had arranged +everything at her quarters, I then hastened and prepared +tea. Presently Isopel rejoined me, bringing her stool; she +had divested herself of her bonnet, and her hair fell over her +shoulders; she sat down, and I poured out the beverage, handing +her a cup. “Have you made a long journey +to-night?” said I. “A very long one,” +replied Belle. “I have come nearly twenty miles since +six o’clock.” “I believe I heard you +coming in my sleep,” said I; “did the dogs above bark +at you?” “Yes,” said Isopel, “very +violently; did you think of me in your sleep?” +“No,” said I, “I was thinking of Ursula and +something she had told me.” “When and where was +that?” said Isopel. “Yesterday evening,” +said I, “beneath the dingle hedge.” “Then +you were talking with her beneath the hedge?” +“I was,” said I, “but only upon gypsy +matters. Do you know, Belle, that she has just been married +to Sylvester, so that you need not think that she and +I—” “She and you are quite at liberty to +sit where you please,” said Isopel. “However, +young man,” she continued, dropping her tone, which she had +slightly raised, “I believe what you said, that you were +merely talking about gypsy matters, and also what you were going +to say, if it was, as I suppose, that she and you had no +particular acquaintance.” Isopel was now silent for +some time. “What are you thinking of?” said +I. “I was thinking,” said Belle, “how +exceedingly kind it was of you to get everything in readiness for +me, though you did not know that I should come.” +“I had a presentiment that you would come,” said I; +“but you forget that I have prepared the kettle for you +before, though it was true that I was then certain that you would +come.” “I had not forgotten your doing so, +young man,” said Belle; “but I was beginning to think +that you were utterly selfish, caring for nothing but the +gratification of your own selfish whims.” “I am +very fond of having my own way,” said I, “but utterly +selfish I am not, as I dare say I shall frequently prove to +you. You will often find the kettle boiling when you come +home.” “Not heated by you,” said Isopel, +with a sigh. “By whom else?” said I; +“surely you are not thinking of driving me +away?” “You have as much right here as +myself,” said Isopel, “as I have told you before; but +I must be going myself.” “Well,” said I, +“we can go together; to tell you the truth, I am rather +tired of this place.” “Our paths must be +separate,” said Belle. “Separate,” said +I, “what do you mean? I shan’t let you go +alone, I shall go with you; and you know the road is as free to +me as to you; besides, you can’t think of parting company +with me, considering how much you would lose by doing so; +remember that you know scarcely anything of the Armenian +language; now, to learn Armenian from me would take you twenty +years.”</p> +<p>Belle faintly smiled. “Come,” said I, +“take another cup of tea.” Belle took another +cup of tea, and yet another; we had some indifferent +conversation, after which I arose and gave her donkey a +considerable feed of corn. Belle thanked me, shook me by +the hand, and then went to her own tabernacle, and I returned to +mine.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> +<p>Visit to the Landlord—His Mortifications—Hunter +and his Clan—Resolution.</p> +<p>On the following morning, after breakfasting with Belle, who +was silent and melancholy, I left her in the dingle, and took a +stroll amongst the neighbouring lanes. After some time I +thought I would pay a visit to the landlord of the public-house, +whom I had not seen since the day when he communicated to me his +intention of changing his religion. I therefore directed my +steps to the house, and on entering it found the landlord +standing in the kitchen. Just then two mean-looking +fellows, who had been drinking at one of the tables, and who +appeared to be the only customers in the house, got up, brushed +past the landlord, and saying in a surly tone, we shall pay you +some time or other, took their departure. +“That’s the way they serve me now,” said the +landlord, with a sigh. “Do you know those +fellows,” I demanded, “since you let them go away in +your debt?” “I know nothing about +them,” said the landlord, “save that they are a +couple of scamps.” “Then why did you let them +go away without paying you?” said I. “I had not +the heart to stop them,” said the landlord; “and, to +tell you the truth, everybody serves me so now, and I suppose +they are right, for a child could flog me.” +“Nonsense,” said I, “behave more like a man, +and with respect to those two fellows run after them, I will go +with you, and if they refuse to pay the reckoning I will help you +to shake some money out of their clothes.” +“Thank you,” said the landlord; “but as they +are gone, let them go on. What they have drank is not of +much consequence.” “What is the matter with +you?” said I, staring at the landlord, who appeared +strangely altered; his features were wild and haggard, his +formerly bluff cheeks were considerably sunken in, and his figure +had lost much of its plumpness. “Have you changed +your religion already, and has the fellow in black commanded you +to fast?” “I have not changed my religion +yet,” said the landlord, with a kind of shudder; “I +am to change it publicly this day fortnight, and the idea of +doing so—I do not mind telling you—preys much upon my +mind; moreover, the noise of the thing has got abroad, and +everybody is laughing at me, and what’s more, coming and +drinking my beer, and going away without paying for it, whilst I +feel myself like one bewitched, wishing but not daring to take my +own part. Confound the fellow in black, I wish I had never +seen him! yet what can I do without him? The brewer swears +that unless I pay him fifty pounds within a fortnight he’ll +send a distress warrant into the house, and take all I +have. My poor niece is crying in the room above; and I am +thinking of going into the stable and hanging myself; and perhaps +it’s the best thing I can do, for it’s better to hang +myself before selling my soul than afterwards, as I’m sure +I should, like Judas Iscariot, whom my poor niece, who is +somewhat religiously inclined, has been talking to me +about.” “I wish I could assist you,” said +I, “with money, but that is quite out of my power. +However, I can give you a piece of advice. Don’t +change your religion by any means; you can’t hope to +prosper if you do; and if the brewer chooses to deal hardly with +you, let him. Everybody would respect you ten times more +provided you allowed yourself to be turned into the roads rather +than change your religion, than if you got fifty pounds for +renouncing it.” “I am half inclined to take +your advice,” said the landlord, “only, to tell you +the truth, I feel quite low, without any heart in +me.” “Come into the bar,” said I, +“and let us have something together—you need not be +afraid of my not paying for what I order.”</p> +<p>We went into the bar-room, where the landlord and I discussed +between us two bottles of strong ale, which he said were part of +the last six which he had in his possession. At first he +wished to drink sherry, but I begged him to do no such thing, +telling him that sherry would do him no good under the present +circumstances; nor, indeed, to the best of my belief, under any, +it being of all wines the one for which I entertained the most +contempt. The landlord allowed himself to be dissuaded, +and, after a glass or two of ale, confessed that sherry was a +sickly, disagreeable drink, and that he had merely been in the +habit of taking it from an idea he had that it was genteel. +Whilst quaffing our beverage, he gave me an account of the +various mortifications to which he had of late been subject, +dwelling with particular bitterness on the conduct of Hunter, who +he said came every night and mouthed him, and afterwards went +away without paying for what he had drank or smoked, in which +conduct he was closely imitated by a clan of fellows who +constantly attended him. After spending several hours at +the public-house I departed, not forgetting to pay for the two +bottles of ale. The landlord, before I went, shaking me by +the hand, declared that he had now made up his mind to stick to +his religion at all hazards, the more especially as he was +convinced he should derive no good by giving it up.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> +<p>Preparations for the Fair—The Last Lesson—The Verb +Siriel.</p> +<p>It might be about five in the evening, when I reached the +gypsy encampment. Here I found Mr. Petulengro, Tawno +Chikno, Sylvester, and others in a great bustle, clipping and +trimming certain ponies and old horses which they had brought +with them. On inquiring of Jasper the reason of their being +so engaged, he informed me that they were getting the horses +ready for a fair, which was to be held on the morrow, at a place +some miles distant, at which they should endeavour to dispose of +them, adding—“Perhaps, brother, you will go with us, +provided you have nothing better to do?” Not having +any particular engagement, I assured him that I should have great +pleasure in being of the party. It was agreed that we +should start early on the following morning. Thereupon I +descended into the dingle. Belle was sitting before the +fire, at which the kettle was boiling. “Were you +waiting for me?” I inquired. “Yes,” said +Belle, “I thought that you would come, and I waited for +you.” “That was very kind,” said I. +“Not half so kind,” said she, “as it was of you +to get everything ready for me in the dead of last night, when +there was scarcely a chance of my coming.” The +tea-things were brought forward, and we sat down. +“Have you been far?” said Belle. “Merely +to that public-house,” said I, “to which you directed +me on the second day of our acquaintance.” +“Young men should not make a habit of visiting +public-houses,” said Belle, “they are bad +places.” “They may be so to some people,” +said I, “but I do not think the worst public-house in +England could do me any harm.” “Perhaps you are +so bad already,” said Belle, with a smile, “that it +would be impossible to spoil you.” “How dare +you catch at my words?” said I; “come, I will make +you pay for doing so—you shall have this evening the +longest lesson in Armenian which I have yet inflicted upon +you.” “You may well say inflicted,” said +Belle, “but pray spare me. I do not wish to hear +anything about Armenian, especially this evening.” +“Why this evening?” said I. Belle made no +answer. “I will not spare you,” said I; +“this evening I intend to make you conjugate an Armenian +verb.” “Well, be it so,” said Belle; +“for this evening you shall command.” “To +command is hramahyel,” said I. “Ram her ill, +indeed,” said Belle; “I do not wish to begin with +that.” “No,” said I, “as we have +come to the verbs, we will begin regularly; hramahyel is a verb +of the second conjugation. We will begin with the +first.” “First of all tell me,” said +Belle, “what a verb is?” “A part of +speech,” said I, “which, according to the dictionary, +signifies some action or passion; for example, I command you, or +I hate you.” “I have given you no cause to hate +me,” said Belle, looking me sorrowfully in the face.</p> +<p>“I was merely giving two examples,” said I, +“and neither was directed at you. In those examples, +to command and hate are verbs. Belle, in Armenian there are +four conjugations of verbs; the first ends in al, the second in +yel, the third in oul, and the fourth in il. Now, have you +understood me?”</p> +<p>“I am afraid, indeed, it will all end ill,” said +Belle.</p> +<p>“Hold your tongue,” said I, “or you will +make me lose my patience.” “You have already +made me nearly lose mine,” said Belle. “Let us +have no unprofitable interruptions,” said I; “the +conjugations of the Armenian verbs are neither so numerous nor so +difficult as the declensions of the nouns; hear that, and +rejoice. Come, we will begin with the verb hntal, a verb of +the first conjugation, which signifies to rejoice. Come +along; hntam, I rejoice; hntas, thou rejoicest; why don’t +you follow, Belle?”</p> +<p>“I am sure I don’t rejoice, whatever you may +do,” said Belle. “The chief difficulty, +Belle,” said I, “that I find in teaching you the +Armenian grammar, proceeds from your applying to yourself and me +every example I give. Rejoice, in this instance, is merely +an example of an Armenian verb of the first conjugation, and has +no more to do with your rejoicing than lal, which is, also a verb +of the first conjugation, and which signifies to weep, would have +to do with your weeping, provided I made you conjugate it. +Come along; hntam, I rejoice; hntas, thou rejoicest; hntà, +he rejoices; hntamk we rejoice: now, repeat those +words.”</p> +<p>“I can’t,” said Belle, “they sound +more like the language of horses than human beings. Do you +take me for—?” “For what?” said +I. Belle was silent. “Were you going to say +mare?” said I. “Mare! mare! by the bye, do you +know, Belle, that mare in old English stands for woman; and that +when we call a female an evil mare, the strict meaning of the +term is merely a bad woman. So if I were to call you a mare +without prefixing bad, you must not be offended.” +“But I should though,” said Belle. “I was +merely attempting to make you acquainted with a philological +fact,” said I. “If mare, which in old English, +and likewise in vulgar English, signifies a woman, sounds the +same as mare, which in modern and polite English signifies a +female horse, I can’t help it. There is no such +confusion of sounds in Armenian, not, at least, in the same +instance. Belle, in Armenian, woman is ghin, the same word, +by the by, as our queen, whereas mare is madagh tzi, which +signifies a female horse; and perhaps you will permit me to add, +that a hard-mouthed jade is, in Armenian, madagh tzi +hsdierah.”</p> +<p>“I can’t bear this much longer,” said +Belle. “Keep yourself quiet,” said I; “I +wish to be gentle with you; and to convince you, we will skip +hntal, and also for the present verbs of the first conjugation +and proceed to the second. Belle, I will now select for you +to conjugate the prettiest verb in Armenian; not only of the +second, but also of all the four conjugations; that verb is +siriel. Here is the present tense:—siriem, siries, +sirè, siriemk, sirèk, sirien. You observe +that it runs on just in the same manner as hntal, save and except +that the e is substituted for a; and it will be as well to tell +you that almost the only difference between the second, third, +and fourth conjugation, and the first, is the substituting in the +present, preterite and other tenses e or ou, or i for a; so you +see that the Armenian verbs are by no means difficult. Come +on, Belle, and say siriem.” Belle hesitated. +“Pray oblige me, Belle, by saying siriem!” +Belle still appeared to hesitate. “You must admit, +Belle, that it is much softer than hntam.” “It +is so,” said Belle; “and to oblige you I will say +siriem.” “Very well indeed, Belle,” said +I. “No vartabied, or doctor, could have pronounced it +better; and now, to show you how verbs act upon pronouns in +Armenian, I will say siriem zkiez. Please to repeat siriem +zkiez!” “Siriem zkiez!” said Belle; +“that last word is very hard to say.” +“Sorry that you think so, Belle,” said I. +“Now please to say sirià zis.” Belle did +so. “Exceedingly well,” said I. +“Now say, yerani thè sirèir zis.” +“Yerani thè sirèir zis,” said +Belle. “Capital!” said I; “you have now +said, I love you—love me—ah! would that you would +love me!”</p> +<p>“And I have said all these things?” said +Belle. “Yes,” said I; “you have said them +in Armenian.” “I would have said them in no +language that I understood,” said Belle; “and it was +very wrong of you to take advantage of my ignorance, and make me +say such things.” “Why so?” said I; +“if you said them, I said them too.” “You +did so,” said Belle; “but I believe you were merely +bantering and jeering.” “As I told you before, +Belle,” said I, “the chief difficulty which I find in +teaching you Armenian proceeds from your persisting in applying +to yourself and me every example I give.” “Then +you meant nothing after all,” said Belle, raising her +voice. “Let us proceed,” said I; +“sirietsi, I loved.” “You never loved any +one but yourself,” said Belle; “and what’s +more—” “Sirietsits, I will love,” +said I; “sirietsies, thou wilt love.” +“Never one so thoroughly heartless,” said +Belle. “I tell you what, Belle, you are becoming +intolerable, but we will change the verb; or rather I will now +proceed to tell you here, that some of the Armenian conjugations +have their anomalies; one species of these I wish to bring before +your notice. As old Villotte says—from whose work I +first contrived to pick up the rudiments of +Armenian—‘Est verborum transitivorum, quorum +infinitivus—’ but I forgot, you don’t +understand Latin. He says there are certain transitive +verbs, whose infinitive is in outsaniel; the preterite in outsi; +the imperative in one; for example—parghatsout-saniem, I +irritate—”</p> +<p>“You do, you do,” said Belle; “and it will +be better for both of us, if you leave off doing so.”</p> +<p>“You would hardly believe, Belle,” said I, +“that the Armenian is in some respects closely connected +with the Irish, but so it is; for example, that word +parghatsout-saniem is evidently derived from the same root as +feargaim, which, in Irish, is as much as to say I vex.”</p> +<p>“You do, indeed,” said Belle, sobbing.</p> +<p>“But how do you account for it?”</p> +<p>“O man, man!” said Belle, bursting into tears, +“for what purpose do you ask a poor ignorant girl such a +question, unless it be to vex and irritate her? If you wish +to display your learning, do so to the wise and instructed, and +not to me, who can scarcely read or write. Oh, leave off +your nonsense; yet I know you will not do so, for it is the +breath of your nostrils! I could have wished we should have +parted in kindness, but you will not permit it. I have +deserved better at your hands than such treatment. The +whole time we have kept company together in this place, I have +scarcely had one kind word from you, but the +strangest—” and here the voice of Belle was drowned +in her sobs.</p> +<p>“I am sorry to see you take on so, dear Belle,” +said I. “I really have given you no cause to be so +unhappy; surely teaching you a little Armenian was a very +innocent kind of diversion.”</p> +<p>“Yes, but you went on so long, and in such a strange +way, and made me repeat such strange examples, as you call them, +that I could not bear it.”</p> +<p>“Why, to tell you the truth, Belle, it’s just my +way; and I have dealt with you just as I would +with—”</p> +<p>“A hard-mouthed jade,” said Belle, “and you +practising your horse-witchery upon her. I have been of an +unsubdued spirit, I acknowledge, but I was always kind to you; +and if you have made me cry, it’s a poor thing to boast +of.”</p> +<p>“Boast of!” said I; “a pretty thing indeed +to boast of; I had no idea of making you cry. Come, I beg +your pardon; what more can I do? Come, cheer up, +Belle. You were talking of parting; don’t let us +part, but depart, and that together.”</p> +<p>“Our ways lie different,” said Belle.</p> +<p>“I don’t see why they should,” said I. +“Come, let us be off to America together.”</p> +<p>“To America together?” said Belle, looking full at +me.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said I; “where we will settle down in +some forest, and conjugate the verb siriel conjugally.”</p> +<p>“Conjugally?” said Belle.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said I; “as man and wife in America, +air yew ghin.”</p> +<p>“You are jesting, as usual,” said Belle.</p> +<p>“Not I, indeed. Come, Belle, make up your mind, +and let us be off to America; and leave priests, humbug, +learning, and languages behind us.”</p> +<p>“I don’t think you are jesting,” said Belle; +“but I can hardly entertain your offers; however, young +man, I thank you.”</p> +<p>“You had better make up your mind at once,” said +I, “and let us be off. I shan’t make a bad +husband, I assure you. Perhaps you think I am not worthy of +you? To convince you, Belle, that I am, I am ready to try a +fall with you this moment upon the grass. Brynhilda, the +valkyrie, swore that no one should ever marry her who could not +fling her down. Perhaps you have done the same. The +man who eventually married her, got a friend of his, who was +called Sygurd, the serpent-killer, to wrestle with her, +disguising him in his own armour. Sygurd flung her down, +and won her for his friend, though he loved her himself. I +shall not use a similar deceit, nor employ Jasper Petulengro to +personate me—so get up, Belle, and I will do my best to +fling you down.”</p> +<p>“I require no such thing of you, or anybody,” said +Belle; “you are beginning to look rather wild.”</p> +<p>“I every now and then do,” said I; “come, +Belle, what do you say?”</p> +<p>“I will say nothing at present on the subject,” +said Belle, “I must have time to consider.”</p> +<p>“Just as you please,” said I, “to-morrow I +go to a fair with Mr. Petulengro, perhaps you will consider +whilst I am away. Come, Belle, let us have some more +tea. I wonder whether we shall be able to procure tea as +good as this in the American forest.”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> +<p>The Dawn of Day—The Last Farewell—Departure for +the Fair—The Fine Horse—Return to the Dingle—No +Isopel.</p> +<p>It was about the dawn of day when I was awakened by the voice +of Mr. Petulengro shouting from the top of the dingle, and +bidding me get up. I arose instantly, and dressed myself +for the expedition to the fair. On leaving my tent, I was +surprised to observe Belle, entirely dressed, standing close to +her own little encampment. “Dear me,” said I, +“I little expected to find you up so early. I suppose +Jasper’s call awakened you, as it did me.” +“I merely lay down in my things,” said Belle, +“and have not slept during the night.” +“And why did you not take off your things and go to +sleep?” said I. “I did not undress,” said +Belle, “because I wished to be in readiness to bid you +farewell when you departed; and as for sleeping, I could +not.” “Well, God bless you!” said I, +taking Belle by the hand. Belle made no answer, and I +observed that her hand was very cold. “What is the +matter with you?” said I, looking her in the face. +Belle looked at me for a moment in the eyes—and then cast +down her own—her features were very pale. “You +are really unwell,” said I, “I had better not go to +the fair, but stay here, and take care of you.” +“No,” said Belle, “pray go, I am not +unwell.” “Then go to your tent,” said I, +“and do not endanger your health by standing abroad in the +raw morning air. God bless you, Belle. I shall be +home to-night, by which time I expect you will have made up your +mind; if not, another lesson in Armenian, however late the hour +be.” I then wrung Belle’s hand, and ascended to +the plain above.</p> +<p>I found the Romany party waiting for me, and everything in +readiness for departing. Mr. Petulengro and Tawno Chikno +were mounted on two old horses. The rest, who intended to +go to the fair, amongst whom were two or three women, were on +foot. On arriving at the extremity of the plain, I looked +towards the dingle. Isopel Berners stood at the mouth, the +beams of the early morning sun shone full on her noble face and +figure. I waved my hand towards her. She slowly +lifted up her right arm. I turned away, and never saw +Isopel Berners again.</p> +<p>My companions and myself proceeded on our way. In about +two hours we reached the place where the fair was to be +held. After breakfasting on bread and cheese and ale behind +a broken stone wall, we drove our animals to the fair. The +fair was a common cattle and horse fair: there was little +merriment going on, but there was no lack of business. By +about two o’clock in the afternoon, Mr. Petulengro and his +people had disposed of their animals at what they conceived very +fair prices—they were all in high spirits, and Jasper +proposed to adjourn to a public-house. As we were +proceeding to one, a very fine horse, led by a jockey, made its +appearance on the ground. Mr. Petulengro stopped short, and +looked at it stedfastly: “Fino covar dove odoy sas +miro—a fine thing were that if it were but mine!” he +exclaimed. “If you covet it,” said I, +“why do you not purchase it?” “We low +’Gyptians never buy animals of that description; if we did +we could never sell them, and most likely should be had up as +horse-stealers.” “Then why did you say just +now, ‘It were a fine thing if it were but +yours?’” said I. “We ’Gyptians +always say so when we see anything that we admire. An +animal like that is not intended for a little hare like me, but +for some grand gentleman like yourself. I say, brother, do +you buy that horse!” “How should I buy the +horse, you foolish person?” said I. “Buy the +horse, brother,” said Mr. Petulengro, “if you have +not the money I can lend it you, though I be of lower +Egypt.” “You talk nonsense,” said I; +“however, I wish you would ask the man the price of +it.” Mr. Petulengro, going up to the jockey, +inquired the price of the horse—the man, looking at him +scornfully, made no reply. “Young man,” said I, +going up to the jockey, “do me the favour to tell me the +price of that horse, as I suppose it is to sell.” The +jockey, who was a surly-looking man, of about fifty, looked at me +for a moment, then, after some hesitation, said, laconically, +“Seventy.” “Thank you,” said I, and +turned away. “Buy that horse,” said Mr. +Petulengro, coming after me; “the dook tells me that in +less than three months he will be sold for twice +seventy.” “I will have nothing to do with +him,” said I; “besides, Jasper, I don’t like +his tail. Did you observe what a mean scrubby tail he +has?” “What a fool you are, brother,” +said Mr. Petulengro; “that very tail of his shows his +breeding. No good bred horse ever yet carried a fine +tail—’tis your scrubby-tailed horses that are your +out-and-outers. Did you ever hear of Syntax, brother? +That tail of his puts me in mind of Syntax. Well, I say +nothing more, have your own way—all I wonder at is, that a +horse like him was ever brought to such a fair of dog cattle as +this.”</p> +<p>We then made the best of our way to a public-house, where we +had some refreshment. I then proposed returning to the +encampment, but Mr. Petulengro declined, and remained drinking +with his companions till about six o’clock in the evening, +when various jockeys from the fair came in. After some +conversation a jockey proposed a game of cards; and in a little +time, Mr. Petulengro and another gypsy sat down to play a game of +cards with two of the jockeys.</p> +<p>Though not much acquainted with cards, I soon conceived a +suspicion that the jockeys were cheating Mr. Petulengro and his +companion, I therefore called Mr. Petulengro aside, and gave him +a hint to that effect. Mr. Petulengro, however, instead of +thanking me, told me to mind my own bread and butter, and +forthwith returned to his game. I continued watching the +players for some hours. The gypsies lost considerably, and +I saw clearly that the jockeys were cheating them most +confoundedly. I therefore once more called Mr. Petulengro +aside, and told him that the jockeys were cheating him, conjuring +him to return to the encampment. Mr. Petulengro, who was by +this time somewhat the worse for liquor, now fell into a passion, +swore several oaths, and asking me who had made me a Moses over +him and his brethren, told me to return to the encampment by +myself. Incensed at the unworthy return which my well-meant +words had received, I forthwith left the house, and having +purchased a few articles of provision, I set out for the dingle +alone. It was a dark night when I reached it, and +descending I saw the glimmer of a fire from the depths of the +dingle; my heart beat with fond anticipation of a welcome. +“Isopel Berners is waiting for me,” said I, +“and the first words that I shall hear from her lips is +that she has made up her mind. We shall go to America, and +be so happy together.” On reaching the bottom of the +dingle, however, I saw seated near the fire, beside which stood +the kettle simmering, not Isopel Berners, but a gypsy girl, who +told me that Miss Berners when she went away had charged her to +keep up the fire, and have the kettle boiling against my +arrival. Startled at these words, I inquired at what hour +Isopel had left, and whither she was gone, and was told that she +had left the dingle, with her cart, about two hours after I +departed; but where she was gone she, the girl, did not +know. I then asked whether she had left no message, and the +girl replied that she had left none, but had merely given +directions about the kettle and fire, putting, at the same time, +six-pence into her hand. “Very strange,” +thought I; then dismissing the gypsy girl I sat down by the +fire. I had no wish for tea, but sat looking on the embers, +wondering what could be the motive of the sudden departure of +Isopel. “Does she mean to return?” thought I to +myself. “Surely she means to return,” Hope +replied, “or she would not have gone away without leaving +any message”—“and yet she could scarcely mean +to return,” muttered Foreboding, “or she assuredly +would have left some message with the girl.” I then +thought to myself what a hard thing it would be, if, after having +made up my mind to assume the yoke of matrimony, I should be +disappointed of the woman of my choice. “Well, after +all,” thought I, “I can scarcely be disappointed; if +such an ugly scoundrel as Sylvester had no difficulty in getting +such a nice wife as Ursula, surely I, who am not a tenth part so +ugly, cannot fail to obtain the hand of Isopel Berners, +uncommonly fine damsel though she be. Husbands do not grow +upon hedgerows; she is merely gone after a little business and +will return to-morrow.”</p> +<p>Comforted in some degree by these hopeful imaginings, I +retired to my tent, and went to sleep.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> +<p>Gloomy Forebodings—The Postman’s Mother—The +Letter—Bears and Barons—The Best of Advice.</p> +<p>Nothing occurred to me of any particular moment during the +following day. Isopel Berners did not return; but Mr. +Petulengro and his companions came home from the fair early in +the morning. When I saw him, which was about midday, I +found him with his face bruised and swelled. It appeared +that, some time after I had left him, he himself perceived that +the jockeys with whom he was playing cards were cheating him and +his companion; a quarrel ensued, which terminated in a fight +between Mr. Petulengro and one of the jockeys, which lasted some +time, and in which Mr. Petulengro, though he eventually came off +victor, was considerably beaten. His bruises, in +conjunction with his pecuniary loss, which amounted to about +seven pounds, were the cause of his being much out of humour; +before night, however, he had returned to his usual philosophic +frame of mind, and, coming up to me as I was walking about, +apologized for his behaviour on the preceding day, and assured me +that he was determined, from that time forward, never to quarrel +with a friend for giving him good advice.</p> +<p>Two more days passed, and still Isopel Berners did not +return. Gloomy thoughts and forebodings filled my +mind. During the day I wandered about the neighbouring +roads in the hopes of catching an early glimpse of her and her +returning vehicle; and at night lay awake, tossing about on my +hard couch, listening to the rustle of every leaf, and +occasionally thinking that I heard the sound of her wheels upon +the distant road. Once at midnight, just as I was about to +fall into unconsciousness, I suddenly started up, for I was +convinced that I heard the sound of wheels. I listened most +anxiously, and the sound of wheels striking against stones was +certainly plain enough. “She comes at last,” +thought I, and for a few moments I felt as if a mountain had been +removed from my breast;—“here she comes at last, now, +how shall I receive her? Oh,” thought I, “I +will receive her rather coolly, just as if I was not particularly +anxious about her—that’s the way to manage these +women.” The next moment the sound became very loud, +rather too loud, I thought, to proceed from her wheels, and then +by degrees became fainter. Rushing out of my tent, I +hurried up the path to the top of the dingle, where I heard the +sound distinctly enough, but it was going from me, and evidently +proceeded from something much larger than the cart of +Isopel. I could, moreover, hear the stamping of a +horse’s hoof at a lumbering trot. Those only whose +hopes have been wrought up to a high pitch, and then suddenly +cast down, can imagine what I felt at that moment; and yet when I +returned to my lonely tent, and lay down on my hard pallet, the +voice of conscience told me that the misery I was then undergoing +I had fully merited, for the unkind manner in which I had +intended to receive her, when for a brief moment I supposed that +she had returned.</p> +<p>It was on the morning after this affair, and the fourth, if I +forget not, from the time of Isopel’s departure, that, as I +was seated on my stone at the bottom of the dingle, getting my +breakfast, I heard an unknown voice from the path +above—apparently that of a person descending—exclaim, +“Here’s a strange place to bring a letter to;” +and presently an old woman, with a belt round her middle, to +which was attached a leathern bag, made her appearance, and stood +before me.</p> +<p>“Well, if I ever!” said she, as she looked about +her. “My good gentlewoman,” said I, “pray +what may you please to want?” +“Gentlewoman!” said the old dame, “please to +want—well, I call that speaking civilly, at any rate. +It is true, civil words cost nothing; nevertheless, we do not +always get them. What I please to want is to deliver a +letter to a young man in this place; perhaps you be +he?” “What’s the name on the +letter?” said I, getting up, and going to her. +“There’s no name upon it,” said she, taking a +letter out of her scrip, and looking at it. “It is +directed to the young man in Mumper’s Dingle.” +“Then it is for me, I make no doubt,” said I, +stretching out my hand to take it. “Please to pay me +ninepence first,” said the old woman. +“However,” said she, after a moment’s thought, +“civility is civility, and, being rather a scarce article, +should meet with some return. Here’s the letter, +young man, and I hope you will pay for it; for if you do not I +must pay the postage myself.” “You are the +postwoman, I suppose,” said I, as I took the letter. +“I am the postman’s mother,” said the old +woman; “but as he has a wide beat, I help him as much as I +can, and I generally carry letters to places like this, to which +he is afraid to come himself.” “You say the +postage is ninepence,” said I, “here’s a +shilling.” “Well, I call that +honourable,” said the old woman, taking the shilling, and +putting it into her pocket—“here’s your change, +young man,” said she, offering me threepence. +“Pray keep that for yourself,” said I; “you +deserve it for your trouble.” “Well, I call +that genteel,” said the old woman; “and as one good +turn deserves another, since you look as if you couldn’t +read, I will read your letter for you. Let’s see it; +it’s from some young woman or other, I dare +say.” “Thank you,” said I, “but I +can read.” “All the better for you,” said +the old woman; “your being able to read will frequently +save you a penny, for that’s the charge I generally make +for reading letters; though, as you behaved so genteelly to me, I +should have charged you nothing. Well, if you can read, why +don’t you open the letter, instead of keeping it hanging +between your finger and thumb?” “I am in no +hurry to open it,” said I, with a sigh. The old woman +looked at me for a moment—“Well, young man,” +said she, “there are some—especially those who can +read—who don’t like to open their letters when +anybody is by, more especially when they come from young +women. Well, I won’t intrude upon you, but leave you +alone with your letter. I wish it may contain something +pleasant. God bless you,” and with these words she +departed.</p> +<p>I sat down on my stone, with my letter in my hand. I +knew perfectly well that it could have come from no other person +than Isopel Berners; but what did the letter contain? I +guessed tolerably well what its purport was—an eternal +farewell! yet I was afraid to open the letter, lest my +expectation should be confirmed. There I sat with the +letter, putting off the evil moment as long as possible. At +length I glanced at the direction, which was written in a fine +bold hand, and was directed, as the old woman had said, to the +young man in “Mumpers’ Dingle,” with the +addition, near ---, in the county of— Suddenly the idea +occurred to me, that, after all, the letter might not contain an +eternal farewell; and that Isopel might have written, requesting +me to join her. Could it be so? “Alas! +no,” presently said Foreboding. At last I became +ashamed of my weakness. The letter must be opened sooner or +later. Why not at once? So as the bather who, for a +considerable time, has stood shivering on the bank, afraid to +take the decisive plunge, suddenly takes it, I tore open the +letter almost before I was aware. I had no sooner done so +than a paper fell out. I examined it; it contained a lock +of bright flaxen hair. “This is no good sign,” +said I, as I thrust the lock and paper into my bosom, and +proceeded to read the letter, which ran as follows:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“TO THE YOUNG MAN IN MUMPERS’ +DINGLE.</p> +<p>“SIR,—I send these lines, with the hope and trust +that they will find you well, even as I am myself at this moment, +and in much better spirits, for my own are not such as I could +wish they were, being sometimes rather hysterical and vapourish, +and at other times, and most often, very low. I am at a +sea-port, and am just going on shipboard; and when you get these +I shall be on the salt waters, on my way to a distant country, +and leaving my own behind me, which I do not expect ever to see +again.</p> +<p>“And now, young man, I will, in the first place, say +something about the manner in which I quitted you. It must +have seemed somewhat singular to you that I went away without +taking any leave, or giving you the slightest hint that I was +going; but I did not do so without considerable reflection. +I was afraid that I should not be able to support a leave-taking; +and as you had said that you were determined to go wherever I +did, I thought it best not to tell you at all; for I did not +think it advisable that you should go with me, and I wished to +have no dispute.</p> +<p>“In the second place, I wish to say something about an +offer of wedlock which you made me; perhaps, young man, had you +made it at the first period of our acquaintance, I should have +accepted it, but you did not, and kept putting off and putting +off, and behaving in a very strange manner, till I could stand +your conduct no longer, but determined upon leaving you and Old +England, which last step I had been long thinking about; so when +you made your offer at last, everything was arranged—my +cart and donkey engaged to be sold—and the greater part of +my things disposed of. However, young man, when you did +make it, I frankly tell you that I had half a mind to accept it; +at last, however, after very much consideration, I thought it +best to leave you for ever, because, for some time past, I had +become almost convinced, that though with a wonderful deal of +learning, and exceedingly shrewd in some things, you +were—pray don’t be offended—at the root mad! +and though mad people, I have been told, sometimes make very good +husbands, I was unwilling that your friends, if you had any, +should say that Belle Berners, the workhouse girl, took advantage +of your infirmity; for there is no concealing that I was born and +bred up in a workhouse; notwithstanding that, my blood is better +than your own, and as good as the best; you having yourself told +me that my name is a noble name, and once, if I mistake not, that +it was the same word as baron, which is the same thing as bear; +and that to be called in old times a bear was considered a great +compliment—the bear being a mighty strong animal, on which +account our forefathers called all their great fighting-men +barons, which is the same as bears.</p> +<p>“However, setting matters of blood and family entirely +aside, many thanks to you, young man, from poor Belle, for the +honour you did her in making that same offer; for, after all, it +is an honour to receive an honourable offer, which she could see +clearly yours was, with no floriness nor chaff in it; but, on the +contrary, entire sincerity. She assures you that she shall +always bear it and yourself in mind, whether on land or water; +and as a proof of the good-will she bears to you, she sends you a +lock of the hair which she wears on her head, which you were +often looking at, and were pleased to call flax, which word she +supposes you meant as a compliment, even as the old people meant +to pass a compliment to their great folks, when they called them +bears; though she cannot help thinking that they might have found +an animal as strong as a bear, and somewhat less uncouth, to call +their great folks after: even as she thinks yourself, amongst +your great store of words, might have found something a little +more genteel to call her hair after than flax, which, though +strong and useful, is rather a coarse and common kind of +article.</p> +<p>“And as another proof of the good-will she bears to you, +she sends you, along with the lock, a piece of advice, which is +worth all the hair in the world, to say nothing of the flax.</p> +<p>“<i>Fear God</i>, and take your own part. +There’s Bible in that, young man: see how Moses feared God, +and how he took his own part against everybody who meddled with +him. And see how David feared God, and took his own part +against all the bloody enemies which surrounded him—so fear +God, young man, and never give in! The world can bully, and +is fond, provided it sees a man in a kind of difficulty, of +getting about him, calling him coarse names, and even going so +far as to hustle him: but the world, like all bullies, carries a +white feather in its tail, and no sooner sees the man taking off +his coat, and offering to fight its best, than it scatters here +and there, and is always civil to him afterwards. So when +folks are disposed to ill-treat you, young man, say, ‘Lord +have mercy upon me!’ and then tip them to Long Melford, +which, as the saying goes, there is nothing comparable for +shortness all the world over; and these last words, young man, +are the last you will ever have from her who is nevertheless,</p> +<p style="text-align: right">“Your affectionate female +servant,<br /> +“<span class="smcap">Isopel Berners</span>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>After reading the letter I sat for some time motionless, +holding it in my hand. The daydream in which I had been a +little time before indulging, of marrying Isopel Berners, of +going with her to America, and having by her a large progeny, who +were to assist me in felling trees, cultivating the soil, and who +would take care of me when I was old, was now thoroughly +dispelled. Isopel had deserted me, and was gone to America +by herself, where, perhaps, she would marry some other person, +and would bear him a progeny, who would do for him what in my +dream I had hoped my progeny by her would do for me. Then +the thought came into my head that though she was gone, I might +follow her to America, but then I thought that if I did I might +not find her; America was a very large place, and I did not know +the port to which she was bound; but I could follow her to the +port from which she had sailed, and there possibly discover the +port to which she was bound; but I did not even know the port +from which she had set out, for Isopel had not dated her letter +from any place. Suddenly it occurred to me that the +post-mark on the letter would tell me from whence it came, so I +forthwith looked at the back of the letter, and in the post-mark +read the name of a well-known and not very distant +sea-port. I then knew with tolerable certainty the port +where she had embarked, and I almost determined to follow her, +but I almost instantly determined to do no such thing. +Isopel Berners had abandoned me, and I would not follow her; +“Perhaps,” whispered Pride, “if I overtook her, +she would only despise me for running after her;” and it +also told me pretty roundly, provided I ran after her, whether I +overtook her or not, I should heartily despise myself. So I +determined not to follow Isopel Berners; I took her lock of hair, +and looked at it, then put it in her letter, which I folded up +and carefully stowed away, resolved to keep both for ever, but I +determined not to follow her. Two or three times, however, +during the day, I wavered in my determination, and was again and +again almost tempted to follow her, but every succeeding time the +temptation was fainter. In the evening I left the dingle, +and sat down with Mr. Petulengro and his family by the door of +his tent; Mr. Petulengro soon began talking of the letter which I +had received in the morning. “Is it not from Miss +Berners, brother?” said he. I told him it was. +“Is she coming back, brother?” +“Never,” said I; “she is gone to America, and +has deserted me.” “I always knew that you two +were never destined for each other,” said he. +“How did you know that?” I inquired. “The +dook told me so, brother; you are born to be a great +traveller.” “Well,” said I, “if I +had gone with her to America, as I was thinking of doing, I +should have been a great traveller.” “You are +to travel in another direction, brother,” said he. +“I wish you would tell me all about my future +wanderings,” said I. “I can’t, +brother,” said Mr. Petulengro, “there’s a power +of clouds before my eye.” “You are a poor seer, +after all,” said I; and getting up, I retired to my dingle +and my tent, where I betook myself to my bed, and there, knowing +the worst, and being no longer agitated by apprehension, nor +agonized by expectation, I was soon buried in a deep slumber, the +first which I had fallen into for several nights.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> +<p>The Public-house—Landlord on His Legs Again—A Blow +in Season—The Way of the World—The Grateful +Mind—The Horse’s Neigh.</p> +<p>It was rather late on the following morning when I +awoke. At first I was almost unconscious of what had +occurred on the preceding day; recollection, however, by degrees +returned, and I felt a deep melancholy coming over me, but +perfectly aware that no advantage could be derived from the +indulgence of such a feeling, I sprang up, prepared my breakfast, +which I ate with a tolerable appetite, and then left the dingle, +and betook myself to the gypsy encampment, where I entered into +discourse with various Romanies, both male and female. +After some time, feeling myself in better spirits, I determined +to pay another visit to the landlord of the public-house. +From the position of his affairs when I had last visited him I +entertained rather gloomy ideas with respect to his present +circumstances. I imagined that I should either find him +alone in his kitchen smoking a wretched pipe, or in company with +some surly bailiff or his follower, whom his friend the brewer +had sent into the house in order to take possession of his +effects.</p> +<p>Nothing more entirely differing from either of these +anticipations could have presented itself to my view than what I +saw about one o’clock in the afternoon, when I entered the +house. I had come, though somewhat in want of consolation +myself, to offer any consolation which was at my command to my +acquaintance Catchpole, and perhaps like many other people who go +to a house with “drops of compassion trembling on their +eyelids,” I felt rather disappointed at finding that no +compassion was necessary. The house was thronged with +company, and cries for ale and porter, hot brandy and water, cold +gin and water, were numerous; moreover, no desire to receive and +not to pay for the landlord’s liquids was +manifested—on the contrary, everybody seemed disposed to +play the most honourable part: “Landlord, here’s the +money for this glass of brandy and water—do me the favour +to take it; all right, remember I have paid you.” +“Landlord, here’s the money for the pint of +half-and-half-fourpence halfpenny, ain’t +it?—here’s sixpence; keep the change—confound +the change!” The landlord, assisted by his niece, +bustled about; his brow erect, his cheeks plumped out, and all +his features exhibiting a kind of surly satisfaction. +Wherever he moved, marks of the most cordial amity were shown +him, hands were thrust out to grasp his, nor were looks of +respect, admiration, nay, almost of adoration, wanting. I +observed one fellow, as the landlord advanced, take the pipe out +of his mouth, and gaze upon him with a kind of grin of wonder, +probably much the same as his ancestor, the Saxon lout of old, +put on when he saw his idol Thur, dressed in a new kirtle. +To avoid the press, I got into a corner, where on a couple of +chairs sat two respectable-looking individuals, whether farmers +or sow-gelders, I know not, but highly respectable-looking, who +were discoursing about the landlord. “Such +another,” said one, “you will not find in a +summer’s day.” “No, nor in the whole of +England,” said the other. “Tom of +Hopton,” said the first: “ah! Tom of +Hopton,” echoed the other; “the man who could beat +Tom of Hopton could beat the world.” “I glory +in him,” said the first. “So do I,” said +the second, “I’ll back him against the world. +Let me hear any one say anything against him, and if I +don’t—” then, looking at me, he added, +“have you anything to say against him, young +man?” “Not a word,” said I, “save +that he regularly puts me out.” “He’ll +put any one out,” said the man, “any one out of +conceit with himself;” then, lifting a mug to his mouth, he +added, with a hiccough, “I drink his health.” +Presently the landlord, as he moved about, observing me, stopped +short: “Ah!” said he, “are you here? I am +glad to see you, come this way. Stand back,” said he +to his company, as I followed him to the bar, “stand back +for me and this gentleman.” Two or three young +fellows were in the bar, seemingly sporting yokels, drinking +sherry and smoking. “Come, gentlemen,” said the +landlord, “clear the bar, I must have a clear bar for me +and my friend here.” “Landlord, what will you +take,” said one, “a glass of sherry? I know you +like it.” “- sherry and you too,” said +the landlord, “I want neither sherry nor yourself; +didn’t you hear what I told you?” “All +right, old fellow,” said the other, shaking the landlord by +the hand, “all right, don’t wish to intrude—but +I suppose when you and your friend have done, I may come in +again;” then, with a “sarvant, sir,” to me, he +took himself into the kitchen, followed by the rest of the +sporting yokels.</p> +<p>Thereupon the landlord, taking a bottle of ale from a basket, +uncorked it, and pouring the contents into two large glasses, +handed me one, and motioning me to sit down, placed himself by +me; then, emptying his own glass at a draught, he gave a kind of +grunt of satisfaction, and fixing his eyes upon the opposite side +of the bar, remained motionless, without saying a word, buried +apparently in important cogitations. With respect to +myself, I swallowed my ale more leisurely, and was about to +address my friend, when his niece, coming into the bar, said that +more and more customers were arriving, and how she should supply +their wants she did not know, unless her uncle would get and help +her.</p> +<p>“The customers!” said the landlord, “let the +scoundrels wait till you have time to serve them, or till I have +leisure to see after them.” “The kitchen +won’t contain half of them,” said his niece. +“Then let them sit out abroad,” said the +landlord. “But there are not benches enough, +uncle,” said the niece. “Then let them stand or +sit on the ground,” said the uncle, “what care I; +I’ll let them know that the man who beat Tom of Hopton +stands as well again on his legs as ever.” Then +opening a side door which led from the bar into the back yard, he +beckoned me to follow him. “You treat your customers +in rather a cavalier manner,” said I, when we were alone +together in the yard.</p> +<p>“Don’t I?” said the landlord; “and +I’ll treat them more so yet; now I have got the whiphand of +the rascals I intend to keep it. I dare say you are a bit +surprised with regard to the change which has come over things +since you were last here. I’ll tell you how it +happened. You remember in what a desperate condition you +found me, thinking of changing my religion, selling my soul to +the man in black, and then going and hanging myself like Pontius +Pilate; and I dare say you can’t have forgotten how you +gave me good advice, made me drink ale, and give up sherry. +Well, after you were gone, I felt all the better for your talk, +and what you had made me drink, and it was a mercy that I did +feel better; for my niece was gone out, poor thing, and I was +left alone in the house, without a soul to look at, or to keep me +from doing myself a mischief in case I was so inclined. +Well, things wore on in this way till it grew dusk, when in came +that blackguard Hunter with his train to drink at my expense, and +to insult me as usual; there were more than a dozen of them, and +a pretty set they looked. Well, they ordered about in a +very free and easy manner for upwards of an hour and a half, +occasionally sneering and jeering at me, as they had been in the +habit of doing for some time past; so, as I said before, things +wore on, and other customers came in, who, though they did not +belong to Hunter’s gang, also passed off their jokes upon +me; for, as you perhaps know, we English are a set of low hounds, +who will always take part with the many by way of making +ourselves safe, and currying favour with the stronger side. +I said little or nothing, for my spirits had again become very +low, and I was verily scared and afraid. All of a sudden I +thought of the ale which I had drank in the morning, and of the +good it did me then, so I went into the bar, opened another +bottle, took a glass, and felt better; so I took another, and +feeling better still, I went back into the kitchen, just as +Hunter and his crew were about leaving. ‘Mr. +Hunter,’ said I, ‘you and your people will please to +pay me for what you have had?’ ‘What do you +mean by my people?’ said he, with an oath. ‘Ah, +what do you mean by calling us his people?’ said the +clan. ‘We are nobody’s people;’ and then +there was a pretty load of abuse, and threatening to serve me +out. ‘Well,’ said I, ‘I was perhaps wrong +to call them your people, and beg your pardon and theirs. +And now you will please to pay me for what you have had yourself, +and afterwards I can settle with them.’ ‘I +shall pay you when I think fit,’ said Hunter. +‘Yes,’ said the rest, ‘and so shall we. +We shall pay you when we think fit.’ ‘I tell +you what,’ said Hunter, ‘I conceives I do such an old +fool as you an honour when I comes into his house and drinks his +beer, and goes away without paying for it;’ and then there +was a roar of laughter from everybody, and almost all said the +same thing. ‘Now do you please to pay me, Mr. +Hunter?’ said I. ‘Pay you!’ said Hunter; +‘pay you! Yes, here’s the pay;’ and +thereupon he held out his thumb, twirling it round till it just +touched my nose. I can’t tell you what I felt that +moment; a kind of madhouse thrill came upon me, and all I know +is, that I bent back as far as I could, then lunging out, struck +him under the ear, sending him reeling two or three yards, when +he fell on the floor. I wish you had but seen how my +company looked at me and at each other. One or two of the +clan went to raise Hunter, and get him to fight, but it was no +go; though he was not killed, he had had enough for that +evening. Oh, I wish you had seen my customers; those who +did not belong to the clan, but who had taken part with them, and +helped to jeer and flout me, now came and shook me by the hand, +wishing me joy, and saying as, how ‘I was a brave fellow, +and had served the bully right!’ As for the clan, +they all said Hunter was bound to do me justice; so they made him +pay me what he owed for himself, and the reckoning of those among +them who said they had no money. Two or three of them then +led him away, while the rest stayed behind, and flattered me, and +worshipped me, and called Hunter all kinds of dogs’ +names. What do you think of that?”</p> +<p>“Why,” said I, “it makes good what I read in +a letter which I received yesterday. It is just the way of +the world.”</p> +<p>“A’n’t it,” said the landlord. +“Well, that a’n’t all; let me go on. Good +fortune never yet came alone. In about an hour comes home +my poor niece, almost in high sterricks with joy, smiling and +sobbing. She had been to the clergyman of M---, the great +preacher, to whose church she was in the habit of going, and to +whose daughters she was well known; and to him she told a +lamentable tale about my distresses, and about the snares which +had been laid for my soul; and so well did she plead my cause, +and so strong did the young ladies back all she said, that the +good clergyman promised to stand my friend, and to lend me +sufficient money to satisfy the brewer, and to get my soul out of +the snares of the man in black; and sure enough the next morning +the two young ladies brought me the fifty pounds, which I +forthwith carried to the brewer, who was monstrously civil, +saying that he hoped any little misunderstanding we had had would +not prevent our being good friends in future. That +a’n’t all; the people of the neighbouring county +hearing as if by art witchcraft that I had licked Hunter, and was +on good terms with the brewer, forthwith began to come in crowds +to look at me, pay me homage, and be my customers. +Moreover, fifty scoundrels who owed me money, and would have seen +me starve rather than help me as long as they considered me a +down pin, remembered their debts, and came and paid me more than +they owed. That a’n’t all; the brewer being +about to establish a stage-coach and three, to run across the +country, says it shall stop and change horses at my house, and +the passengers breakfast and sup as it goes and returns. He +wishes me—whom he calls the best man in England—to +give his son lessons in boxing, which he says he considers a fine +manly English art, and a great defence against +Popery—notwithstanding that only a month ago, when he +considered me a down pin, he was in the habit of railing against +it as a blackguard practice, and against me as a blackguard for +following it; so I am going to commence with young hopeful +to-morrow.”</p> +<p>“I really cannot help congratulating you on your good +fortune,” said I.</p> +<p>“That a’n’t all,” said the +landlord. “This very morning the folks of our parish +made me churchwarden, which they would no more have done a month +ago, when they considered me a down pin, than +they—”</p> +<p>“Mercy upon us!” said I, “if fortune pours +in upon you in this manner, who knows but that within a year they +may make you a justice of the peace?”</p> +<p>“Who knows, indeed!” said the landlord. +“Well, I will prove myself worthy of my good luck by +showing the grateful mind—not to those who would be kind to +me now, but to those who were, when the days were rather +gloomy. My customers shall have abundance of rough +language, but I’ll knock any one down who says anything +against the clergyman who lent me the fifty pounds, or against +the Church of England, of which he is parson and I am +churchwarden. I am also ready to do anything in reason for +him who paid me for the ale he drank, when I shouldn’t have +had the heart to collar him for the money had he refused to pay; +who never jeered or flouted me like the rest of my customers when +I was a down pin—and though he refused to fight cross +<i>for</i> me was never cross <i>with</i> me, but listened to all +I had to say, and gave me all kinds of good advice. Now who +do you think I mean by this last? why, who but yourself—who +on earth but yourself? The parson is a good man and a great +preacher, and I’ll knock anybody down who says to the +contrary; and I mention him first, because why; he’s a +gentleman, and you a tinker. But I am by no means sure you +are not the best friend of the two; for I doubt, do you see, +whether I should have had the fifty pounds but for you. You +persuaded me to give up that silly drink they call sherry, and +drink ale; and what was it but drinking ale which gave me courage +to knock down that fellow Hunter—and knocking him down was, +I verily believe, the turning point of my disorder. God +don’t love them who won’t strike out for themselves; +and as far as I can calculate with respect to time, it was just +the moment after I had knocked down Hunter, that the parson +consented to lend me the money, and everything began to grow +civil to me. So, dash my buttons if I show the ungrateful +mind to you! I don’t offer to knock anybody down for +you, because why—I dare say you can knock a body down +yourself; but I’ll offer something more to the purpose; as +my business is wonderfully on the increase, I shall want somebody +to help me in serving my customers, and keeping them in +order. If you choose to come and serve for your board, and +what they’ll give you, give me your fist; or if you like +ten shillings a week better than their sixpences and +ha’pence, only say so—though, to be open with you, I +believe you would make twice ten shillings out of them—the +sneaking, fawning, curry-favouring humbugs!”</p> +<p>“I am much obliged to you,” said I, “for +your handsome offer, which, however, I am obliged to +decline.”</p> +<p>“Why so?” said the landlord.</p> +<p>“I am not fit for service,” said I; +“moreover, I am about to leave this part of the +country.” As I spoke a horse neighed in the +stable. “What horse is that?” said I.</p> +<p>“It belongs to a cousin of mine, who put it into my +hands yesterday in the hopes that I might get rid of it for him, +though he would no more have done so a week ago, when he +considered me a down pin, than he would have given the horse +away. Are you fond of horses?”</p> +<p>“Very much,” said I.</p> +<p>“Then come and look at it.” He led me into +the stable, where, in a stall, stood a noble-looking animal.</p> +<p>“Dear me,” said I, “I saw this horse at --- +fair.”</p> +<p>“Like enough,” said the landlord; “he was +there and was offered for seventy pounds, but didn’t find a +bidder at any price. What do you think of him?”</p> +<p>“He’s a splendid creature.”</p> +<p>“I am no judge of horses,” said the landlord; +“but I am told he’s a first-rate trotter, good +leaper, and has some of the blood of Syntax. What does all +that signify?—the game is against his master, who is a down +pin, is thinking of emigrating, and wants money +confoundedly. He asked seventy pounds at the fair; but, +between ourselves, he would be glad to take fifty +here.”</p> +<p>“I almost wish,” said I, “that I were a rich +squire.”</p> +<p>“You would buy him then,” said the landlord. +Here he mused for some time, with a very profound look. +“It would be a rum thing,” said he, “if, some +time or other, that horse should come into your hands. +Didn’t you hear how he neighed when you talked about +leaving the country? My granny was a wise woman, and was up +to all kinds of signs and wonders, sounds and noises, the +interpretation of the language of birds and animals, crowing and +lowing, neighing and braying. If she had been here, she +would have said at once that that horse was fated to carry you +away. On that point, however, I can say nothing, for under +fifty pounds no one can have him. Are you taking that money +out of your pocket to pay me for the ale? That won’t +do; nothing to pay; I invited you this time. Now if you are +going, you had best get into the road through the +yard-gate. I won’t trouble you to make your way +through the kitchen and my fine-weather company—confound +them!”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> +<p>Mr. Petulengro’s Device—The Leathern +Purse—Consent to Purchase a Horse.</p> +<p>As I returned along the road I met Mr. Petulengro and one of +his companions, who told me that they were bound for the +public-house; whereupon I informed Jasper how I had seen in the +stable the horse which we had admired at the fair. “I +shouldn’t wonder if you buy that horse after all, +brother,” said Mr. Petulengro. With a smile at the +absurdity of such a supposition, I left him and his companion, +and betook myself to the dingle. In the evening I received +a visit from Mr. Petulengro, who forthwith commenced talking +about the horse, which he had again seen, the landlord having +shown it to him on learning that he was a friend of mine. +He told me that the horse pleased him more than ever, he having +examined his points with more accuracy than he had an opportunity +of doing on the first occasion, concluding by pressing me to buy +him. I begged him to desist from such foolish importunity, +assuring him that I had never so much money in all my life as +would enable me to purchase the horse. Whilst this +discourse was going on, Mr. Petulengro and myself were standing +together in the midst of the dingle. Suddenly he began to +move round me—in a very singular manner, making strange +motions with his hands, and frightful contortions with his +features, till I became alarmed, and asked him whether he had not +lost his senses? Whereupon, ceasing his movements and +contortions, he assured me that he had not, but had merely been +seized with a slight dizziness, and then once more returned to +the subject of the horse. Feeling myself very angry, I told +him that if he continued persecuting me in that manner, I should +be obliged to quarrel with him; adding, that I believed his only +motive for asking me to buy the animal was to insult my +poverty. “Pretty poverty,” said he, “with +fifty pounds in your pocket; however, I have heard say that it is +always the custom of your rich people to talk of their poverty, +more especially when they wish to avoid laying out +money.” Surprised at his saying that I had fifty +pounds in my pocket, I asked him what he meant; whereupon he told +me that he was very sure that I had fifty pounds in my pocket, +offering to lay me five shillings to that effect. +“Done!” said I; “I have scarcely more than the +fifth part of what you say.” “I know better, +brother,” said Mr. Petulengro; “if you only pull out +what you have in the pocket of your slop, I am sure you will have +lost your wager.” Putting my hand into the pocket, I +felt something which I had never felt there before, and pulling +it out, perceived that it was a clumsy leathern purse, which I +found on opening contained four ten-pound-notes, and several +pieces of gold. “Didn’t I tell you so, +brother?” said Mr. Petulengro. “Now, in the +first place, please to pay me the five shillings you have +lost.” “This is only a foolish piece of +pleasantry,” said I; “you put it into my pocket +whilst you were moving about me, making faces like a distracted +person. Here, take your purse back.” +“I?” said Mr. Petulengro, “not I, indeed I +don’t think I am such a fool. I have won my wager, so +pay me the five shillings, brother.” “Do drop +this folly,” said I, “and take your purse;” and +I flung it on the ground. “Brother,” said Mr. +Petulengro, “you were talking of quarrelling with me just +now. I tell you now one thing, which is, that if you do not +take back the purse I will quarrel with you; and it shall be for +good and all. I’ll drop your acquaintance, no longer +call you my pal, and not even say sarshan to you when I meet you +by the roadside. Hir mi diblis I never will.” I +saw by Jasper’s look and tone that he was in earnest, and, +as I had really a regard for the strange being, I scarcely knew +what to do. “Now, be persuaded, brother,” said +Mr. Petulengro, taking up the purse, and handing it to me; +“be persuaded; put the purse into your pocket, and buy the +horse.” “Well,” said I, “if I did +so, would you acknowledge the horse to be yours, and receive the +money again as soon as I should be able to repay you?”</p> +<p>“I would, brother, I would,” said he; +“return me the money as soon as you please, provided you +buy the horse.” “What motive have you for +wishing me to buy that horse?” said I. +“He’s to be sold for fifty pounds,” said +Jasper, “and is worth four times that sum; though, like +many a splendid bargain, he is now going a begging; buy him, and +I’m confident that, in a little time, a grand gentleman of +your appearance may have anything he asks for him, and found a +fortune by his means. Moreover, brother, I want to dispose +of this fifty pounds in a safe manner. If you don’t +take it, I shall fool it away in no time, perhaps at +card-playing, for you saw how I was cheated by those blackguard +jockeys the other day—we gyptians don’t know how to +take care of money: our best plan when we have got a handful of +guineas is to make buttons with them; but I have plenty of golden +buttons, and don’t wish to be troubled with more, so you +can do me no greater favour than vesting the money in this +speculation, by which my mind will be relieved of considerable +care and trouble for some time at least.”</p> +<p>Perceiving that I still hesitated, he said, “Perhaps, +brother, you think I did not come honestly by the money: by the +honestest manner in the world, for it is the money I earnt by +fighting in the ring: I did not steal it, brother, nor did I get +it by disposing of spavined donkeys, or glandered +ponies—nor is it, brother, the profits of my wife’s +witchcraft and dukkerin.”</p> +<p>“But,” said I, “you had better employ it in +your traffic.” “I have plenty of money for my +traffic, independent of this capital,” said Mr. Petulengro; +“ay, brother, and enough besides to back the husband of my +wife’s sister, Sylvester, against Slammocks of the Chong +gav for twenty pounds, which I am thinking of doing.”</p> +<p>“But,” said I, “after all, the horse may +have found another purchaser by this time.” +“Not he,” said Mr. Petulengro, “there is nobody +in this neighbourhood to purchase a horse like that, unless it be +your lordship—so take the money, brother,” and he +thrust the purse into my hand. Allowing myself to be +persuaded, I kept possession of the purse. “Are you +satisfied now?” said I. “By no means, +brother,” said Mr. Petulengro, “you will please to +pay me the five shillings which you lost to me.” +“Why,” said I, “the fifty pounds which I found +in my pocket were not mine, but put in by yourself.” +“That’s nothing to do with the matter, +brother,” said Mr. Petulengro, “I betted you five +shillings that you had fifty pounds in your pocket, which sum you +had: I did not say that they were your own, but merely that you +had fifty pounds; you will therefore pay me, brother, or I shall +not consider you an honourable man.” Not wishing to +have any dispute about such a matter, I took five shillings out +of my under pocket, and gave them to him. Mr. Petulengro +took the money with great glee, observing—“These five +shillings I will take to the public-house forthwith, and spend in +drinking with four of my brethren, and doing so will give me an +opportunity of telling the landlord that I have found a customer +for his horse, and that you are the man. It will be as well +to secure the horse as soon as possible; for though the dook +tells me that the horse is intended for you, I have now and then +found that the dook is, like myself, somewhat given to +lying.”</p> +<p>He then departed, and I remained alone in the dingle. I +thought at first that I had committed a great piece of folly in +consenting to purchase this horse; I might find no desirable +purchaser for him, until the money in my possession should be +totally exhausted, and then I might be compelled to sell him for +half the price I had given for him, or be even glad to find a +person who would receive him at a gift; I should then remain sans +horse, and indebted to Mr. Petulengro. Nevertheless, it was +possible that I might sell the horse very advantageously, and by +so doing obtain a fund sufficient to enable me to execute some +grand enterprise or other. My present way of life afforded +no prospect of support, whereas the purchase of the horse did +afford a possibility of bettering my condition, so, after all, +had I not done right in consenting to purchase the horse? the +purchase was to be made with another person’s property, it +is true, and I did not exactly like the idea of speculating with +another person’s property, but Mr. Petulengro had thrust +his money upon me, and if I lost his money, he could have no one +but himself to blame; so I persuaded myself that I had, upon the +whole, done right, and having come to that persuasion, I soon +began to enjoy the idea of finding myself on horseback again, and +figured to myself all kinds of strange adventures which I should +meet with on the roads before the horse and I should part +company.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> +<p>Trying the Horse—The Feats of Tawno—Man with the +Red Waist-coat—Disposal of Property.</p> +<p>I saw nothing more of Mr. Petulengro that evening—on the +morrow, however, he came and informed me that he had secured the +horse for me, and that I was to go and pay for it at noon. +At the hour appointed, therefore, I went with Mr. Petulengro and +Tawno to the public, where, as before, there was a crowd of +company. The landlord received us in the bar with marks of +much satisfaction and esteem, made us sit down, and treated us +with some excellent mild draught ale. “Who do you +think has been here this morning?” he said to me, +“why, that fellow in black, who came to carry me off to a +house of Popish devotion, where I was to pass seven days and +nights in meditation, as I think he called it, before I publicly +renounced the religion of my country. I read him a pretty +lecture, calling him several unhandsome names, and asking him +what he meant by attempting to seduce a church-warden of the +Church of England. I tell you what, he ran some danger; for +some of my customers, learning his errand, laid hold on him, and +were about to toss him in a blanket, and then duck him in the +horse-pond. I, however, interfered, and said, ‘that +what he came about was between me and him, and that it was no +business of theirs.’ To tell you the truth, I felt +pity for the poor devil, more especially when I considered that +they merely sided against him because they thought him the +weakest, and that they would have wanted to serve me in the same +manner had they considered me a down pin; so I rescued him from +their hands, told him not to be afraid, for that nobody should +touch him, and offered to treat him to some cold gin and water +with a lump of sugar in it; and on his refusing, told him that he +had better make himself scarce, which he did, and I hope I shall +never see him again. So I suppose you are come for the +horse; mercy upon us! who would have thought you would have +become the purchaser? The horse, however, seemed to know it +by his neighing. How did you ever come by the money? +however, that’s no matter of mine. I suppose you are +strongly backed by certain friends you have.”</p> +<p>I informed the landlord that he was right in supposing that I +came for the horse, but that, before I paid for him, I should +wish to prove his capabilities. “With all my +heart,” said the landlord. “You shall mount him +this moment.” Then going into the stable, he saddled +and bridled the horse, and presently brought him out before the +door. I mounted him, Mr. Petulengro putting a heavy whip +into my hand, and saying a few words to me in his own mysterious +language. “The horse wants no whip,” said the +landlord. “Hold your tongue, daddy,” said Mr. +Petulengro. “My pal knows quite well what to do with +the whip, he’s not going to beat the horse with +it.” About four hundred yards from the house there +was a hill, to the foot of which the road ran almost on a perfect +level; towards the foot of this hill I trotted the horse, who set +off at a long, swift pace, seemingly at the rate of about sixteen +miles an hour. On reaching the foot of the hill, I wheeled +the animal round, and trotted him towards the house—the +horse sped faster than before. Ere he had advanced a +hundred yards, I took off my hat, in obedience to the advice +which Mr. Petulengro had given me, in his own language, and +holding it over the horse’s head commenced drumming on the +crown with the knob of the whip; the horse gave a slight start, +but instantly recovering himself, continued his trot till he +arrived at the door of the public-house, amidst the acclamations +of the company, who had all rushed out of the house to be +spectators of what was going on. “I see now what you wanted +the whip for,” said the landlord, “and sure enough, +that drumming on your hat was no bad way of learning whether the +horse was quiet or not. Well, did you ever see a more quiet +horse, or a better trotter?” “My cob shall trot +against him,” said a fellow, dressed in velveteen, mounted +on a low powerful-looking animal. “My cob shall trot +against him to the hill and back again—come +on!” We both started; the cob kept up gallantly +against the horse for about half way to the hill, when he began +to lose ground; at the foot of the hill he was about fifteen +yards behind. Whereupon I turned slowly and waited for +him. We then set off towards the house, but now the cob had +no chance, being at least twenty yards behind when I reached the +door. This running of the horse, the wild uncouth forms +around me, and the ale and beer which were being guzzled from +pots and flagons, put me wonderfully in mind of the ancient +horse-races of the heathen north. I almost imagined myself +Gunnar of Hlitharend at the race of—</p> +<p>“Are you satisfied?” said the landlord. +“Didn’t you tell me that he could leap?” I +demanded. “I am told he can,” said the +landlord; “but I can’t consent that he should be +tried in that way, as he might be damaged.” +“That’s right!” said Mr. Petulengro, +“don’t trust my pal to leap that horse, he’ll +merely fling him down, and break his neck and his own. +There’s a better man than he close by; let him get on his +back and leap him.” “You mean yourself, I +suppose,” said the landlord. “Well, I call that +talking modestly, and nothing becomes a young man more than +modesty.” “It a’n’t I, +daddy,” said Mr. Petulengro. “Here’s the +man,” said he, pointing to Tawno. “Here’s +the horse-leaper of the world!” “You mean the +horse-back breaker,” said the landlord. “That +big fellow would break down my cousin’s horse.” +“Why, he weighs only sixteen stone,” said Mr. +Petulengro. “And his sixteen stone, with his way of +handling a horse, does not press so much as any other one’s +thirteen. Only let him get on the horse’s back, and +you’ll see what he can do!” “No,” +said the landlord, “it won’t do.” Whereupon Mr. +Petulengro became very much excited; and pulling out a handful of +money, said, “I’ll tell you what, I’ll forfeit +these guineas, if my black pal there does the horse any kind of +damage; duck me in the horse-pond if I don’t.” +“Well,” said the landlord, “for the sport of +the thing I consent, so let your white pal get down, and our +black pal mount as soon as he pleases.” I felt rather +mortified at Mr. Petulengro’s interference; and showed no +disposition to quit my seat; whereupon he came up to me and said, +“Now, brother, do get out of the saddle—you are no +bad hand at trotting, I am willing to acknowledge that; but at +leaping a horse there is no one like Tawno. Let every dog +be praised for his own gift. You have been showing off in +your line for the last half-hour; now do give Tawno a chance of +exhibiting a little; poor fellow, he hasn’t often a chance +of exhibiting, as his wife keeps him so much out of +sight.” Not wishing to appear desirous of engrossing +the public attention, and feeling rather desirous to see how +Tawno, of whose exploits in leaping horses I had frequently +heard, would acquit himself in the affair, I at length +dismounted, and Tawno, at a bound, leaped into the saddle, where +he really looked like Gunnar of Hlitharend, save and except the +complexion of Gunnar was florid, whereas that of Tawno was of +nearly Mulatto darkness; and that all Tawno’s features were +cast in the Grecian model, whereas Gunnar had a snub nose. +“There’s a leaping-bar behind the house,” said +the landlord. “Leaping-bar!” said Mr. +Petulengro, scornfully. “Do you think my black pal +ever rides at a leaping-bar? No more than a +windle-straw. Leap over that meadow-wall, +Tawno.” Just past the house, in the direction in +which I had been trotting, was a wall about four feet high, +beyond which was a small meadow. Tawno rode the horse +gently up to the wall, permitted him to look over, then backed +him for about ten yards, and pressing his calves against the +horse’s sides, he loosed the rein, and the horse launching +forward, took the leap in gallant style. “Well done, +man and horse!” said Mr. Petulengro, “now come back, +Tawno.” The leap from the side of the meadow was, +however, somewhat higher; and the horse, when pushed at it, at +first turned away; whereupon Tawno backed him to a greater +distance, pushed the horse to a full gallop, giving a wild cry; +whereupon the horse again took the wall, slightly grazing one of +his legs against it. “A near thing,” said the +landlord; “but a good leap. Now, no more leaping, so +long as I have control over the animal.” The horse +was then led back to the stable; and the landlord, myself and +companions going into the bar, I paid down the money for the +horse.</p> +<p>Scarcely was the bargain concluded, when two or three of the +company began to envy me the possession of the horse, and forcing +their way into the bar, with much noise and clamour, said that +the horse had been sold too cheap. One fellow, in +particular, with a red waistcoat, the son of a wealthy farmer, +said that if he had but known that the horse had been so good a +one, he would have bought it at the first price asked for it, +which he was now willing to pay, that is to-morrow, +supposing—“supposing your father will let you have +the money,” said the landlord, “which, after all, +might not be the case; but, however that may be, it is too late +now. I think myself the horse has been sold for too little +money, but if so all the better for the young man, who came +forward when no other body did with his money in his hand. +There, take yourselves out of my bar,” he said to the +fellows; “and a pretty scoundrel you,” said he to the +man of the red waistcoat, “to say the horse has been sold +too cheap; why, it was only yesterday you said he was good for +nothing, and were passing all kinds of jokes at him. Take +yourself out of my bar, I say, you and all of you,” and he +turned the fellows out. I then asked the landlord whether +he would permit the horse to remain in the stable for a short +time, provided I paid for his entertainment; and on his willingly +consenting, I treated my friends with ale, and then returned with +them to the encampment.</p> +<p>That evening I informed Mr. Petulengro and his party that on +the morrow I intended to mount my horse, and leave that part of +the country in quest of adventures; inquiring of Jasper where, in +the event of my selling the horse advantageously, I might meet +with him, and repay the money I had borrowed of him; whereupon +Mr. Petulengro informed me that in about ten weeks I might find +him at a certain place at the Chong gav. I then stated that +as I could not well carry with me the property which I possessed +in the dingle, which after all was of no considerable value, I +had resolved to bestow the said property, namely, the pony, tent, +tinker-tools, etc., on Ursula and her husband, partly because +they were poor, and partly on account of the great kindness which +I bore to Ursula, from whom I had, on various occasions, +experienced all manner of civility, particularly in regard to +crabbed words. On hearing this intelligence, Ursula +returned many thanks to her gentle brother, as she called me, and +Sylvester was so overjoyed that, casting aside his usual phlegm, +he said I was the best friend he had ever had in the world, and +in testimony of his gratitude swore that he would permit his wife +to give me a choomer in the presence of the whole company, which +offer, however, met with a very mortifying reception, the company +frowning disapprobation, Ursula protesting against anything of +the kind, and I myself showing no forwardness to avail myself of +it, having inherited from nature a considerable fund of modesty, +to which was added no slight store acquired in the course of my +Irish education. I passed that night alone in the dingle in +a very melancholy manner, with little or no sleep, thinking of +Isopel Berners; and in the morning when I quitted it I shed +several tears, as I reflected that I should probably never again +see the spot where I had passed so many hours in her company.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> +<p>Farewell to the Romans—The Landlord and His +Niece—Set Out as a Traveller.</p> +<p>On reaching the plain above, I found my Romany friends +breakfasting, and on being asked by Mr. Petulengro to join them, +I accepted the invitation. No sooner was breakfast over +than I informed Ursula and her husband that they would find the +property, which I had promised them, in the dingle, commending +the little pony Ambrol to their best care. I took leave of +the whole company, which was itself about to break up camp and to +depart in the direction of London, and made the best of my way to +the public-house. I had a small bundle in my hand, and was +dressed in the same manner as when I departed from London, having +left my waggoner’s slop with the other effects in the +dingle. On arriving at the public-house, I informed the +landlord that I was come for my horse, inquiring, at the same +time, whether he could not accommodate me with a bridle and +saddle. He told me that the bridle and saddle, with which I +had ridden the horse on the preceding day, were at my service for +a trifle; that he had received them some time since in payment +for a debt, and that he had himself no use for them. The +leathers of the bridle were rather shabby, and the bit rusty, and +the saddle was old fashioned; but I was happy to purchase them +for seven shillings, more especially as the landlord added a +small valise, which he said could be strapped to the saddle, and +which I should find very convenient for carrying my things +in. I then proceeded to the stable, told the horse we were +bound on an expedition, and giving him a feed of corn, left him +to discuss it, and returned to the bar-room to have a little +farewell chat with the landlord, and at the same time to drink +with him a farewell glass of ale. Whilst we were talking +and drinking, the niece came and joined us: she was a decent, +sensible young woman, who appeared to take a great interest in +her uncle, whom she regarded with a singular mixture of pride +and, disapprobation—pride for the renown which he had +acquired by his feats of old, and disapprobation for his late +imprudences. She said that she hoped that his misfortunes +would be a warning to him to turn more to his God than he had +hitherto done, and to give up cock-fighting and other low-life +practices. To which the landlord replied, that with respect +to cock-fighting he intended to give it up entirely, being +determined no longer to risk his capital upon birds, and with +respect to his religious duties, he should attend the church of +which he was churchwarden at least once a quarter, adding, +however, that he did not intend to become either canter or +driveller, neither of which characters would befit a publican +surrounded by such customers as he was, and that to the last day +of his life he hoped to be able to make use of his fists. +After a stay of about two hours I settled accounts, and having +bridled and saddled my horse, and strapped on my valise, I +mounted, shook hands with the landlord and his niece, and +departed, notwithstanding that they both entreated me to tarry +until the evening, it being then the heat of the day.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> +<p>An Adventure on the Road—The Six Flint Stone—A +Rural Scene—Mead—The Old Man and His Bees.</p> +<p>I bent my course in the direction of the north, more induced +by chance than any particular motive; all quarters of the world +having about equal attractions for me. I was in high +spirits at finding myself once more on horse-back, and trotted +gaily on, until the heat of the weather induced me to slacken my +pace, more out of pity for my horse than because I felt any +particular inconvenience from it—heat and cold being then, +and still, matters of great indifference to me. What I +thought of I scarcely know, save and except that I have a +glimmering recollection that I felt some desire to meet with one +of those adventures which upon the roads of England are generally +as plentiful as blackberries in autumn; and Fortune, who has +generally been ready to gratify my inclinations, provided it cost +her very little by so doing, was not slow in furnishing me with +an adventure, perhaps as characteristic of the English roads as +anything which could have happened.</p> +<p>I might have travelled about six miles amongst cross roads and +lanes, when suddenly I found myself upon a broad and very dusty +road which seemed to lead due north. As I wended along this +I saw a man upon a donkey riding towards me. The man was +commonly dressed, with a broad felt hat on his head, and a kind +of satchel on his back; he seemed to be in a mighty hurry, and +was every now and then belabouring the donkey with a +cudgel. The donkey, however, which was a fine large +creature of the silver-grey species, did not appear to sympathize +at all with its rider in his desire to get on, but kept its head +turned back as much as possible, moving from one side of the road +to the other, and not making much forward way. As I passed, +being naturally of a very polite disposition, I gave the man the +sele of the day, asking him, at the same time, why he beat the +donkey; whereupon the fellow eyeing me askance, told me to mind +my own business, with the addition of something which I need not +repeat. I had not proceeded a furlong before I saw seated +on the dust by the wayside, close by a heap of stones, and with +several flints before him, a respectable-looking old man, with a +straw hat and a white smock, who was weeping bitterly.</p> +<p>“What are you crying for, father?” said I. +“Have you come to any hurt?” “Hurt +enough,” sobbed the old man, “I have just been +tricked out of the best ass in England by a villain, who gave me +nothing but these trash in return,” pointing to the stones +before him. “I really scarcely understand you,” +said I, “I wish you would explain yourself more +clearly.” “I was riding on my ass from +market,” said the old man, “when I met here a fellow +with a sack on his back, who, after staring at the ass and me a +moment or two, asked me if I would sell her. I told him +that I could not think of selling her, as she was very useful to +me, and though an animal, my true companion, whom I loved as much +as if she were my wife and daughter. I then attempted to +pass on, but the fellow stood before me, begging me to sell her, +saying that he would give me anything for her; well, seeing that +he persisted, I said at last that if I sold her, I must have six +pounds for her, and I said so to get rid of him, for I saw that +he was a shabby fellow, who had probably not six shillings in the +world; but I had better have held my tongue,” said the old +man, crying more bitterly than before, “for the words were +scarcely out of my mouth, when he said he would give me what I +asked, and taking the sack from his back, he pulled out a +steelyard, and going to the heap of stones there, he took up +several of them and weighed them, then flinging them down before +me, he said, ‘There are six pounds, neighbour; now, get off +the ass, and hand her over to me.’ Well, I sat like +one dumbfoundered for a time, till at last I asked him what he +meant? ‘What do I mean?’ said he, ‘you +old rascal, why, I mean to claim my purchase,’ and then he +swore so awfully, that scarcely knowing what I did I got down, +and he jumped on the animal and rode off as fast as he +could.” “I suppose he was the fellow,” +said I, “whom I just now met upon a fine gray ass, which he +was beating with a cudgel.” “I dare say he +was,” said the old man, “I saw him beating her as he +rode away, and I thought I should have died.” +“I never heard such a story,” said I; “well, do +you mean to submit to such a piece of roguery +quietly?” “Oh, dear,” said the old man, +“what can I do? I am seventy-nine years of age; I am +bad on my feet, and dar’n’t go after +him.”—“Shall I go?” said I; “the +fellow is a thief, and any one has a right to stop +him.” “Oh, if you could but bring her again to +me,” said the old man, “I would bless you till my +dying day; but have a care; I don’t know but after all the +law may say that she is his lawful purchase. I asked six +pounds for her, and he gave me six pounds.” +“Six flints, you mean,” said I, “no, no, the +law is not quite so bad as that either; I know something about +her, and am sure that she will never sanction such a +quibble. At all events, I’ll ride after the +fellow.” Thereupon turning my horse round, I put him +to his very best trot; I rode nearly a mile without obtaining a +glimpse of the fellow, and was becoming apprehensive that he had +escaped me by turning down some by-path, two or three of which I +had passed. Suddenly, however, on the road making a slight +turning, I perceived him right before me, moving at a tolerably +swift pace, having by this time probably overcome the resistance +of the animal. Putting my horse to a full gallop, I shouted +at the top of my voice, “Get off that donkey, you rascal, +and give her up to me, or I’ll ride you down.” +The fellow hearing the thunder of the horse’s hoofs behind +him, drew up on one side of the road. “What do you +want?” said he, as I stopped my charger, now almost covered +with sweat and foam close beside him. “Do you want to +rob me?” “To rob you?” said I. +“No! but to take from you that ass, of which you have just +robbed its owner.” “I have robbed no +man,” said the fellow; “I just now purchased it +fairly of its master, and the law will give it to me; he asked +six pounds for it, and I gave him six pounds.” +“Six stones, you mean, you rascal,” said I; +“get down, or my horse shall be upon you in a +moment;” then with a motion of my reins, I caused the horse +to rear, pressing his sides with my heels as if I intended to +make him leap. “Stop,” said the man, +“I’ll get down, and then try if I can’t serve +you out.” He then got down, and confronted me with +his cudgel; he was a horrible-looking fellow, and seemed prepared +for anything. Scarcely, however, had he dismounted, when +the donkey jerked the bridle out of his hand, and probably in +revenge for the usage she had received, gave him a pair of +tremendous kicks on the hip with her hinder legs, which +overturned him, and then scampered down the road the way she had +come. “Pretty treatment this,” said the fellow, +getting up without his cudgel, and holding his hand to his side, +“I wish I may not be lamed for life.” +“And if you be,” said I, “it will merely serve +you right, you rascal, for trying to cheat a poor old man out of +his property by quibbling at words.” +“Rascal!” said the fellow, “you lie, I am no +rascal; and as for quibbling with words—suppose I +did! What then? All the first people does it! +The newspapers does it! the gentlefolks that calls themselves the +guides of the popular mind does it! I’m no +ignoramus. I read the newspapers, and knows what’s +what.” “You read them to some purpose,” +said I. “Well, if you are lamed for life, and +unfitted for any active line—turn newspaper editor; I +should say you are perfectly qualified, and this day’s +adventure may be the foundation of your fortune,” thereupon +I turned round and rode off. The fellow followed me with a +torrent of abuse. “Confound you,” said +he—yet that was not the expression either—“I +know you; you are one of the horse-patrol come down into the +country on leave to see your relations. Confound you, you +and the like of you have knocked my business on the head near +Lunnon, and I suppose we shall have you shortly in the +country.” “To the newspaper office,” said +I, “and fabricate falsehoods out of flint stones;” +then touching the horse with my heels, I trotted off, and coming +to the place where I had seen the old man, I found him there, +risen from the ground, and embracing his ass.</p> +<p>I told him that I was travelling down the road, and said, that +if his way lay in the same direction as mine he could do no +better than accompany me for some distance, lest the fellow who, +for aught I knew, might be hovering nigh, might catch him alone, +and again get his ass from him. After thanking me for my +offer, which he said he would accept, he got upon his ass, and we +proceeded together down the road. My new acquaintance said +very little of his own accord; and when I asked him a question, +answered rather incoherently. I heard him every now and +then say, “Villain!” to himself, after which he would +pat the donkey’s neck, from which circumstance I concluded +that his mind was occupied with his late adventure. After +travelling about two miles, we reached a place where a drift-way +on the right led from the great road; here my companion stopped, +and on my asking him whether he was going any farther, he told me +that the path to the right was the way to his home.</p> +<p>I was bidding him farewell, when he hemmed once or twice, and +said, that as he did not live far off, he hoped that I would go +with him and taste some of his mead. As I had never tasted +mead, of which I had frequently read in the compositions of the +Welsh bards, and, moreover, felt rather thirsty from the heat of +the day, I told him that I should have great pleasure in +attending him. Whereupon, turning off together, we +proceeded about half a mile, sometimes between stone walls, and +at other times hedges, till we reached a small hamlet, through +which we passed, and presently came to a very pretty cottage, +delightfully situated within a garden, surrounded by a hedge of +woodbines. Opening a gate at one corner of the garden he +led the way to a large shed, which stood partly behind the +cottage, which he said was his stable; thereupon he dismounted +and led his donkey into the shed, which was without stalls, but +had a long rack and manger. On one side he tied his donkey, +after taking off her caparisons, and I followed his example, +tying my horse at the other side with a rope halter which he gave +me; he then asked me to come in and taste his mead, but I told +him that I must attend to the comfort of my horse first, and +forthwith, taking a wisp of straw, rubbed him carefully +down. Then taking a pailful of clear water which stood in +the shed, I allowed the horse to drink about half a pint; and +then turning to the old man, who all the time had stood by +looking at my proceedings, I asked him whether he had any +oats? “I have all kinds of grain,” he replied; +and, going out, he presently returned with two measures, one a +large and the other a small one, both filled with oats, mixed +with a few beans, and handing the large one to me for the horse, +he emptied the other before the donkey, who, before she began to +despatch it, turned her nose to her master’s face, and +fairly kissed him. Having given my horse his portion, I +told the old man that I was ready to taste his mead as soon as he +pleased, whereupon he ushered me into his cottage, where, making +me sit down by a deal table in a neatly sanded kitchen, he +produced from an old-fashioned closet a bottle, holding about a +quart, and a couple of cups, which might each contain about half +a pint, then opening the bottle and filling the cups with a +brown-coloured liquor, he handed one to me, and taking a seat +opposite to me, he lifted the other, nodded, and saying to +me—“Health and welcome,” placed it to his lips +and drank.</p> +<p>“Health and thanks,” I replied; and being very +thirsty, emptied my cup at a draught; I had scarcely done so, +however, when I half repented. The mead was deliciously +sweet and mellow, but appeared strong as brandy; my eyes reeled +in my head, and my brain became slightly dizzy. “Mead +is a strong drink,” said the old man, as he looked at me, +with a half smile on his countenance. “This is at any +rate,” said I, “so strong, indeed, that I would not +drink another cup for any consideration.” “And +I would not ask you,” said the old man; “for, if you +did, you would most probably be stupid all day, and wake the next +morning with a headache. Mead is a good drink, but woundily +strong, especially to those who be not used to it, as I suppose +you are not.” “Where do you get it?” said +I. “I make it myself,” said the old man, +“from the honey which my bees make.” +“Have you many bees?” I inquired. “A +great many,” said the old man. “And do you keep +them,” said I, “for the sake of making mead with +their honey?” “I keep them,” he replied, +“partly because I am fond of them, and partly for what they +bring me in; they make me a great deal of honey, some of which I +sell, and with a little I make some mead to warm my poor heart +with, or occasionally to treat a friend with like +yourself.” “And do you support yourself +entirely by means of your bees?” “No,” +said the old man; “I have a little bit of ground behind my +house, which is my principal means of support.” +“And do you live alone?” “Yes,” +said he; “with the exception of the bees and the donkey, I +live quite alone.” “And have you always lived +alone?” The old man emptied his cup, and his heart +being warmed with the mead, he told his history, which was +simplicity itself. His father was a small yeoman, who, at +his death, had left him, his only child, the cottage, with a +small piece of ground behind it, and on this little property he +had lived ever since. About the age of twenty-five he had +married an industrious young woman, by whom he had one daughter, +who died before reaching years of womanhood. His wife, +however, had survived her daughter many years, and had been a +great comfort to him, assisting him in his rural occupations; +but, about four years before the present period, he had lost her, +since which time he had lived alone, making himself as +comfortable as he could; cultivating his ground, with the help of +a lad from the neighbouring village, attending to his bees, and +occasionally riding his donkey to market, and hearing the word of +God, which he said he was sorry he could not read, twice a week +regularly at the parish church. Such was the old +man’s tale.</p> +<p>When he had finished speaking, he led me behind his house, and +showed me his little domain. It consisted of about two +acres in admirable cultivation; a small portion of it formed a +kitchen garden, while the rest was sown with four kinds of grain, +wheat, barley, peas, and beans. The air was full of +ambrosial sweets, resembling those proceeding from an orange +grove; a place which though I had never seen at that time, I +since have. In the garden was the habitation of the bees, a +long box, supported upon three oaken stumps. It was full of +small round glass windows, and appeared to be divided into a +great many compartments, much resembling drawers placed +sideways. He told me that, as one compartment was filled, +the bees left it for another; so that, whenever he wanted honey, +he could procure some without injury to the insects. +Through the little round windows I could see several of the bees +at work; hundreds were going in and out of the doors; hundreds +were buzzing about on the flowers, the woodbines, and +beans. As I looked around on the well-cultivated field, the +garden, and the bees, I thought I had never before seen so rural +and peaceful a scene.</p> +<p>When we returned to the cottage we again sat down, and I asked +the old man whether he was not afraid to live alone. He +told me that he was not, for that, upon the whole, his neighbours +were very kind to him. I mentioned the fellow who had +swindled him of his donkey upon the road. “That was +no neighbour of mine,” said the old man, “and, +perhaps, I shall never see him again, or his like.” +“It’s a dreadful thing,” said I, “to have +no other resource, when injured, than to shed tears on the +road.” “It is so,” said the old man; +“but God saw the tears of the old, and sent a +helper.” “Why did you not help yourself?” +said I. “Instead of getting off your ass, why did you +not punch at the fellow, or at any rate use dreadful language, +call him villain, and shout robbery?” +“Punch!” said the old man, “shout! what, with +these hands, and this voice—Lord, how you run on! I +am old, young chap, I am old!” “Well,” +said I, “it is a shameful thing to cry even when +old.” “You think so now,” said the old +man, “because you are young and strong; perhaps when you +are as old as I, you will not be ashamed to cry.”</p> +<p>Upon the whole I was rather pleased with the old man, and much +with all about him. As evening drew nigh, I told him that I +must proceed on my journey; whereupon he invited me to tarry with +him during the night, telling me that he had a nice room and bed +above at my service. I, however, declined; and bidding him +farewell, mounted my horse, and departed. Regaining the +road, I proceeded once more in the direction of the north; and, +after a few hours, coming to a comfortable public-house, I +stopped, and put up for the night.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> +<p>The Singular Noise—Sleeping in a Meadow—The +Book—Cure for Wakefulness—Literary Tea +Party—Poor Byron.</p> +<p>I did not awake till rather late the next morning; and when I +did, I felt considerable drowsiness, with a slight headache, +which I was uncharitable enough to attribute to the mead which I +had drunk on the preceding day. After feeding my horse, and +breakfasting, I proceeded on my wanderings. Nothing +occurred worthy of relating till mid-day was considerably past, +when I came to a pleasant valley, between two gentle hills. +I had dismounted, in order to ease my horse, and was leading him +along by the bridle, when, on my right, behind a bank in which +some umbrageous ashes were growing, heard a singular noise. +I stopped short and listened, and presently said to myself, +“Surely this is snoring, perhaps that of a +hedgehog.” On further consideration, however, I was +convinced that the noise which I heard, and which certainly +seemed to be snoring, could not possibly proceed from the +nostrils of so small an animal, but must rather come from those +of a giant, so loud and sonorous was it. About two or three +yards farther was a gate, partly open, to which I went, and +peeping into the field, saw a man lying on some rich grass, under +the shade of one of the ashes; he was snoring away at a great +rate. Impelled by curiosity, I fastened the bridle of my +horse to the gate, and went up to the man. He was a +genteelly-dressed individual; rather corpulent, with dark +features, and seemingly about forty-five. He lay on his +back, his hat slightly over his brow, and at his right hand lay +an open book. So strenuously did he snore that the wind +from his nostrils agitated, perceptibly, a fine cambric frill +which he wore at his bosom. I gazed upon him for some time, +expecting that he might awake; but he did not, but kept on +snoring, his breast heaving convulsively. At last, the +noise he made became so terrible, that I felt alarmed for his +safety, imagining that a fit might seize him, and he lose his +life while fast asleep. I therefore exclaimed, “Sir, +sir, awake! you sleep over-much.” But my voice failed +to rouse him, and he continued snoring as before; whereupon I +touched him slightly with my riding wand, but failing to wake +him, I touched him again more vigorously; whereupon he opened his +eyes, and, probably imagining himself in a dream, closed them +again. But I was determined to arouse him, and cried as +loud as I could, “Sir, sir, pray sleep no +more!” He heard what I said, opened his eyes again, +stared at me with a look of some consciousness, and, half raising +himself upon his elbows, asked me what was the matter. +“I beg your pardon,” said I, “but I took the +liberty of awaking you, because you appeared to be much disturbed +in your sleep—I was fearful, too, that you might catch a +fever from sleeping under a tree.” “I run no +risk,” said the man, “I often come and sleep here; +and as for being disturbed in my sleep, I felt very comfortable; +I wish you had not awoke me.” “Well,” +said I, “I beg your pardon once more. I assure you +that what I did was with the best intention.” +“Oh! pray make no further apology,” said the +individual, “I make no doubt that what you did was done +kindly; but there’s an old proverb, to the effect, +‘that you should let sleeping dogs lie,’” he +added with a smile. Then, getting up, and stretching +himself with a yawn, he took up his book and said, “I have +slept quite long enough, and it’s quite time for me to be +going home.” “Excuse my curiosity,” said +I, “if I inquire what may induce you to come and sleep in +this meadow?” “To tell you the truth,” +answered he, “I am a bad sleeper.” “Pray +pardon me,” said I, “if I tell you that I never saw +one sleep more heartily.” “If I did so,” +said the individual, “I am beholden to this meadow and this +book; but I am talking riddles, and will explain myself. I +am the owner of a very pretty property, of which this valley +forms part. Some years ago, however, up started a person +who said the property was his; a lawsuit ensued, and I was on the +brink of losing my all, when, most unexpectedly, the suit was +determined in my favour. Owing, however, to the anxiety to +which my mind had been subjected for several years, my nerves had +become terribly shaken; and no sooner was the trial terminated +than sleep forsook my pillow. I sometimes passed nights +without closing an eye; I took opiates, but they rather increased +than alleviated my malady. About three weeks ago a friend +of mine put this book into my hand, and advised me to take it +every day to some pleasant part of my estate, and try and read a +page or two, assuring me, if I did, that I should infallibly fall +asleep. I took his advice, and selecting this place, which +I considered the pleasantest part of my property, I came, and +lying down, commenced reading the book, and before finishing a +page was in a dead slumber. Every day since then I have +repeated the experiment, and every time with equal success. +I am a single man, without any children; and yesterday I made my +will, in which, in the event of my friend’s surviving me, I +have left him all my fortune, in gratitude for his having +procured for me the most invaluable of all +blessings—sleep.”</p> +<p>“Dear me,” said I, “how very +extraordinary! Do you think that your going to sleep is +caused by the meadow or the book?” “I suppose +by both,” said my new acquaintance, “acting in +co-operation.” “It may be so,” said I; +“the magic influence does certainly not proceed from the +meadow alone; for since I have been here, I have not felt the +slightest inclination to sleep. Does the book consist of +prose or poetry?” “It consists of +poetry,” said the individual. “Not +Byron’s?” said I. “Byron’s!” +repeated the individual, with a smile of contempt; “no, no; +there is nothing narcotic in Byron’s poetry. I +don’t like it. I used to read it, but it thrilled, +agitated, and kept me awake. No; this is not Byron’s +poetry, but the inimitable ---’s”—mentioning a +name which I had never heard till then. “Will you +permit me to look at it?” said I. “With +pleasure,” he answered, politely handing me the book. +I took the volume, and glanced over the contents. It was +written in blank verse, and appeared to abound in descriptions of +scenery; there was much mention of mountains, valleys, streams, +and waterfalls, harebells and daffodils. These descriptions +were interspersed with dialogues, which, though they proceeded +from the mouths of pedlars and rustics, were of the most edifying +description; mostly on subjects moral or metaphysical, and +couched in the most gentlemanly and unexceptionable language, +without the slightest mixture of vulgarity, coarseness, or +pie-bald grammar. Such appeared to me to be the contents of +the book; but before I could form a very clear idea of them, I +found myself nodding, and a surprising desire to sleep coming +over me. Rousing myself, however, by a strong effort, I +closed the book, and, returning it to the owner, inquired of him, +“Whether he had any motive in coming and lying down in the +meadow, besides the wish of enjoying sleep?” +“None whatever,” he replied; “indeed, I should +be very glad not to be compelled to do so, always provided I +could enjoy the blessing of sleep; for by lying down under trees, +I may possibly catch the rheumatism, or be stung by serpents; +and, moreover, in the rainy season and winter the thing will be +impossible, unless I erect a tent, which will possibly destroy +the charm.” “Well,” said I, “you +need give yourself no further trouble about coming here, as I am +fully convinced that with this book in your hand, you may go to +sleep anywhere, as your friend was doubtless aware, though he +wished to interest your imagination for a time by persuading you +to lie abroad; therefore, in future, whenever you feel disposed +to sleep, try to read the book, and you will be sound asleep in a +minute; the narcotic influence lies in the book, and not in the +field.” “I will follow your advice,” said +the individual; “and this very night take it with me to +bed; though I hope in time to be able to sleep without it, my +nerves being already much quieted from the slumbers I have +enjoyed in this field.” He then moved towards the +gate, where we parted; he going one way, and I and my horse the +other.</p> +<p>More than twenty years subsequent to this period, after much +wandering about the world, returning to my native country, I was +invited to a literary tea-party, where, the discourse turning +upon poetry, I, in order to show that I was not more ignorant +than my neighbours, began to talk about Byron, for whose writings +I really entertained considerable admiration, though I had no +particular esteem for the man himself. At first, I received +no answer to what I said—the company merely surveying me +with a kind of sleepy stare. At length a lady, about the +age of forty, with a large wart on her face, observed, in a +drawling tone, “That she had not read Byron—at least, +since her girlhood—and then only a few passages; but that +the impression on her mind was, that his writings were of a +highly objectionable character.” “I also read a +little of him in my boyhood,” said a gentleman about sixty, +but who evidently, from his dress and demeanour, wished to appear +about thirty, “but I highly disapproved of him; for, +notwithstanding he was a nobleman, he is frequently very coarse, +and very fond of raising emotion. Now emotion is what I +dislike;” drawling out the last syllable of the word +dislike. “There is only one poet for me—the +divine—” and then he mentioned a name which I had +only once heard, and afterwards quite forgotten; the same +mentioned by the snorer in the field. “Ah! there is +no one like him!” murmured some more of the company; +“the poet of nature—of nature without its +vulgarity.” I wished very much to ask these people +whether they were ever bad sleepers, and whether they had read +the poet, so called, from a desire of being set to sleep. +Within a few days, however, I learnt that it had of late become +very fashionable and genteel to appear half asleep, and that one +could exhibit no better mark of superfine breeding than by +occasionally in company setting one’s rhomal organ in +action. I then ceased to wonder at the popularity, which I +found nearly universal, of ---’s poetry; for, certainly in +order to make one’s self appear sleepy in company, or +occasionally to induce sleep, nothing could be more efficacious +than a slight prelection of his poems. So poor Byron, with +his fire and emotion—to say nothing of his mouthings and +coxcombry—was dethroned, as I prophesied he would be more +than twenty years before, on the day of his funeral, though I had +little idea that his humiliation would have been brought about by +one, whose sole strength consists in setting people to +sleep. Well, all things are doomed to terminate in +sleep. Before that termination, however, I will venture to +prophesy that people will become a little more +awake—snoring and yawning be a little less in +fashion—and poor Byron be once more reinstated on his +throne, though his rival will always stand a good chance of being +worshipped by those whose ruined nerves are insensible to the +narcotic powers of opium and morphine.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> +<p>Drivers and Front Outside Passengers—Fatigue of Body and +Mind—Unexpected Greeting—My Inn—The +Governor—Engagement.</p> +<p>I continued my journey, passing through one or two +villages. The day was exceedingly hot, and the roads +dusty. In order to cause my horse as little fatigue as +possible, and not to chafe his back, I led him by the bridle, my +doing which brought upon me a shower of remarks, jests, and +would-be witticisms from the drivers and front outside passengers +of sundry stage-coaches which passed me in one direction or the +other. In this way I proceeded till considerably past noon, +when I felt myself very fatigued, and my horse appeared no less +so; and it is probable that the lazy and listless manner in which +we were moving on, tired us both much more effectually than +hurrying along at a swift trot would have done, for I have +observed that when the energies of the body are not exerted a +languor frequently comes over it. At length arriving at a +very large building with an archway, near the entrance of a town, +I sat down on what appeared to be a stepping-block, and presently +experienced a great depression of spirits. I began to ask +myself whither I was going, and what I should do with myself and +the horse which I held by the bridle? It appeared to me +that I was alone in the world with the poor animal, who looked +for support to me, who knew not how to support myself. Then +the image of Isopel Berners came into my mind, and when I thought +how I had lost her for ever, and how happy I might have been with +her in the New World had she not deserted me, I became yet more +miserable.</p> +<p>As I sat in this state of mind, I suddenly felt some one clap +me on the shoulder, and heard a voice say, “Ha! comrade of +the dingle, what chance has brought you into these +parts?” I turned round, and beheld a man in the dress +of a postillion, whom I instantly recognized as he to whom I had +rendered assistance on the night of the storm.</p> +<p>“Ah!” said I, “is it you? I am glad to +see you, for I was feeling very lonely and melancholy.”</p> +<p>“Lonely and melancholy,” he replied, “how is +that? how can any one be lonely and melancholy with such a noble +horse as that you hold by the bridle?”</p> +<p>“The horse,” said I, “is one cause of my +melancholy, for I know not in the world what to do with +it.”</p> +<p>“It is your own?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said I, “I may call it my own, though +I borrowed the money to purchase it.”</p> +<p>“Well, why don’t you sell it?”</p> +<p>“It is not always easy to find a purchaser for a horse +like this,” said I; “can you recommend me +one?”</p> +<p>“I? Why no, not exactly; but you’ll find a +purchaser shortly—pooh! if you have no other cause for +disquiet than that horse, cheer up, man, don’t be cast +down. Have you nothing else on your mind? By the bye, +what’s become of the young woman you were keeping company +with in that queer lodging place of yours?”</p> +<p>“She has left me,” said I.</p> +<p>“You quarrelled, I suppose?”</p> +<p>“No,” said I, “we did not exactly quarrel, +but we are parted.”</p> +<p>“Well,” replied he, “but you will soon come +together again.”</p> +<p>“No,” said I, “we are parted for +ever.”</p> +<p>“For ever! Pooh! you little know how people +sometimes come together again who think they are parted for +ever. Here’s something on that point relating to +myself. You remember, when I told you my story in that +dingle of yours, that I mentioned a young woman, my +fellow-servant when I lived with the English family in Mumbo +Jumbo’s town, and how she and I, when our foolish governors +were thinking of changing their religion, agreed to stand by each +other, and be true to old Church of England, and to give our +governors warning, provided they tried to make us +renegades. Well, she and I parted soon after that, and +never to meet again, yet we met the other day in the fields, for +she lately came to live with a great family not far from here, +and we have since agreed to marry, to take a little farm, for we +have both a trifle of money, and live together till ‘death +us do part.’ So much for parting for ever! But +what do I mean by keeping you broiling in the sun with your +horse’s bridle in your hand, and you on my own +ground? Do you know where you are? Why, that great +house is my inn, that is, it’s my master’s, the best +fellow in ---. Come along, you and your horse both will +find a welcome at my inn.”</p> +<p>Thereupon he led the way into a large court in which there +were coaches, chaises, and a great many people; taking my horse +from me, he led it into a nice cool stall, and fastened it to the +rack—he then conducted me into a postillion’s +keeping-room, which at that time chanced to be empty, and he then +fetched a pot of beer and sat down by me.</p> +<p>After a little conversation he asked me what I intended to do, +and I told him frankly that I did not know; whereupon he observed +that, provided I had no objection, he had little doubt that I +could be accommodated for some time at his inn. “Our +upper ostler,” said he, “died about a week ago; he +was a clever fellow, and, besides his trade, understood reading +and accounts.”</p> +<p>“Dear me,” said I, interrupting him, “I am +not fitted for the place of ostler—moreover, I refused the +place of ostler at a public-house, which was offered to me only a +few days ago.” The postillion burst into a +laugh. “Ostler at a public-house, indeed! why, you +would not compare a berth at a place like that with the situation +of ostler at my inn, the first road-house in England! +However, I was not thinking of the place of ostler for you; you +are, as you say, not fitted for it, at any rate, not at a house +like this. We have, moreover, the best under-ostler in all +England—old Bill, with the drawback that he is rather fond +of drink. We could make shift with him very well, provided +we could fall in with a man of writing and figures, who could +give an account of the hay and corn which comes in and goes out, +and wouldn’t object to give a look occasionally at the +yard. Now it appears to me that you are just such a kind of +man, and, if you will allow me to speak to the governor, I +don’t doubt that he will gladly take you, as he feels +kindly disposed towards you from what he has heard me say +concerning you.”</p> +<p>“And what should I do with my horse?” said I.</p> +<p>“The horse need give you no uneasiness,” said the +postillion; “I know he will be welcome here both for bed +and manger, and, perhaps, in a little time you may find a +purchaser, as a vast number of sporting people frequent this +house.” I offered two or three more objections, which +the postillion overcame with great force of argument, and the pot +being nearly empty, he drained it to the bottom drop, and then +starting up, left me alone.</p> +<p>In about twenty minutes he returned, accompanied by a highly +intelligent-looking individual, dressed in blue and black, with a +particularly white cravat, and without a hat on his head: this +individual, whom I should have mistaken for a gentleman but for +the intelligence depicted in his face, he introduced to me as the +master of the inn. The master of the inn shook me warmly by +the hand, told me that he was happy to see me in his house, and +thanked me in the handsomest terms for the kindness I had shown +to his servant in the affair of the thunderstorm. Then +saying that he was informed I was out of employ, he assured me +that he should be most happy to engage me to keep his hay and +corn account, and as general superintendent of the yard, and that +with respect to the horse, which he was told I had, he begged to +inform me that I was perfectly at liberty to keep it at the inn +upon the very best, until I could find a purchaser,—that +with regard to wages—but he had no sooner mentioned wages +than I cut him short, saying, that provided I stayed I should be +most happy to serve him for bed and board, and requested that he +would allow me until the next morning to consider of his offer; +he willingly consented to my request, and, begging that I would +call for anything I pleased, left me alone with the +postillion.</p> +<p>I passed that night until about ten o’clock with the +postillion, when he left me, having to drive a family about ten +miles across the country; before his departure, however, I told +him that I had determined to accept the offer of his governor, as +he called him. At the bottom of my heart I was most happy +that an offer had been made, which secured to myself and the +animal a comfortable retreat at a moment when I knew not whither +in the world to take myself and him.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> +<p>An Inn of Times gone by—A First-rate Publican—Hay +and Corn—Old-fashioned +Ostler—Highwaymen—Mounted Police—Grooming.</p> +<p>The inn, of which I had become an inhabitant, was a place of +infinite life and bustle. Travellers of all descriptions, +from all the cardinal points, were continually stopping at it; +and to attend to their wants, and minister to their convenience, +an army of servants, of one description or other, was kept; +waiters, chambermaids, grooms, postillions, shoe-blacks, cooks, +scullions, and what not, for there was a barber and hair-dresser, +who had been at Paris, and talked French with a cockney accent; +the French sounding all the better, as no accent is so melodious +as the cockney. Jacks creaked in the kitchens turning round +spits, on which large joints of meat piped and smoked before +great big fires. There was running up and down stairs, and +along galleries, slamming of doors, cries of “Coming, +sir,” and “Please to step this way, +ma’am,” during eighteen hours of the +four-and-twenty. Truly a very great place for life and +bustle was this inn. And often in after life, when lonely +and melancholy, I have called up the time I spent there, and +never failed to become cheerful from the recollection.</p> +<p>I found the master of the house a very kind and civil +person. Before being an inn-keeper he had been in some +other line of business; but on the death of the former proprietor +of the inn had married his widow, who was still alive, but, being +somewhat infirm, lived in a retired part of the house. I +have said that he was kind and civil; he was, however, not one of +those people who suffer themselves to be made fools of by +anybody; he knew his customers, and had a calm, clear eye, which +would look through a man without seeming to do so. The +accommodation of his house was of the very best description; his +wines were good, his viands equally so, and his charges not +immoderate; though he very properly took care of himself. +He was no vulgar inn-keeper, had a host of friends, and deserved +them all. During the time I lived with him, he was +presented by a large assemblage of his friends and customers with +a dinner at his own house, which was very costly, and at which +the best of wines were sported, and after the dinner with a piece +of plate estimated at fifty guineas. He received the plate, +made a neat speech of thanks, and when the bill was called for, +made another neat speech, in which he refused to receive one +farthing for the entertainment, ordering in at the same time two +dozen more of the best champagne, and sitting down amidst +uproarious applause, and cries of “You shall be no loser by +it!” Nothing very wonderful in such conduct, some +people will say; I don’t say there is, nor have I any +intention to endeavour to persuade the reader that the landlord +was a Carlo Boromeo; he merely gave a quid pro quo; but it is not +every person who will give you a quid pro quo. Had he been +a vulgar publican, he would have sent in a swinging bill after +receiving the plate; “but then no vulgar publican would +have been presented with plate;” perhaps not, but many a +vulgar public character has been presented with plate, whose +admirers never received a quid pro quo, except in the shape of a +swinging bill.</p> +<p>I found my duties of distributing hay and corn, and keeping an +account thereof, anything but disagreeable, particularly after I +had acquired the good-will of the old ostler, who at first looked +upon me with rather an evil eye, considering me somewhat in the +light of one who had usurped an office which belonged to himself +by the right of succession; but there was little gall in the old +fellow, and, by speaking kindly to him, never giving myself any +airs of assumption; but, above all, by frequently reading the +newspapers to him—for though passionately fond of news and +politics, he was unable to read—I soon succeeded in placing +myself on excellent terms with him. A regular character was +that old ostler; he was a Yorkshireman by birth, but had seen a +great deal of life in the vicinity of London, to which, on the +death of his parents, who were very poor people, he went at a +very early age. Amongst other places where he had served as +ostler was a small inn at Hounslow, much frequented by +highwaymen, whose exploits he was fond of narrating, especially +those of Jerry Abershaw, who, he said, was a capital rider; and +on hearing his accounts of that worthy, I half regretted that the +old fellow had not been in London, and I had not formed his +acquaintance about the time I was thinking of writing the life of +the said Abershaw, not doubting that with his assistance, I could +have produced a book at least as remarkable as the life and +adventures of that entirely imaginary personage Joseph Sell; +perhaps, however, I was mistaken; and whenever Abershaw’s +life shall appear before the public—and my publisher +credibly informs me that it has not yet appeared—I beg and +entreat the public to state which it likes best, the life of +Abershaw, or that of Sell, for which latter work I am informed +that during the last few months there has been a prodigious +demand. My old friend, however, after talking of Abershaw, +would frequently add, that, good rider as Abershaw certainly was, +he was decidedly inferior to Richard Ferguson, generally called +Galloping Dick, who was a pal of Abershaw’s, and had +enjoyed a career as long, and nearly as remarkable as his +own. I learned from him that both were capital customers at +the Hounslow inn, and that he had frequently drank with them in +the corn-room. He said that no man could desire more jolly +or entertaining companions over a glass of “summut;” +but that upon the road it was anything but desirable to meet +them; there they were terrible, cursing and swearing, and +thrusting the muzzles of their pistols into people’s +mouths; and at this part of his locution the old man winked, and +said, in a somewhat lower voice, that upon the whole they were +right in doing so, and that when a person had once made up his +mind to become a highwayman, his best policy was to go the whole +hog, fearing nothing, but making everybody afraid of him; that +people never thought of resisting a savage-faced, foul-mouthed +highwayman, and if he were taken, were afraid to bear witness +against him, lest he should get off and cut their throats some +time or other upon the roads; whereas people would resist being +robbed by a sneaking, pale-visaged rascal, and would swear bodily +against him on the first opportunity,—adding, that Abershaw +and Ferguson, two most awful fellows, had enjoyed a long career, +whereas two disbanded officers of the army, who wished to rob a +coach like gentlemen, had begged the passengers’ pardon, +and talked of hard necessity, had been set upon by the passengers +themselves, amongst whom were three women, pulled from their +horses, conducted to Maidstone, and hanged with as little pity as +such contemptible fellows deserved. “There is nothing +like going the whole hog,” he repeated, “and if ever +I had been a highwayman, I would have done so; I should have +thought myself all the more safe; and, moreover, shouldn’t +have despised myself. To curry favour with those you are +robbing, sometimes at the expense of your own comrades, as I have +known fellows do, why, it is the greatest—”</p> +<p>“So it is,” interposed my friend the postillion, +who chanced to be present at a considerable part of the old +ostler’s discourse; “it is, as you say, the greatest +of humbug, and merely, after all, gets a fellow into trouble; but +no regular bred highwayman would do it. I say, George, +catch the Pope of Rome trying to curry favour with anybody he +robs; catch old Mumbo Jumbo currying favour with the Archbishop +of Canterbury and the Dean and Chapter, should he meet them in a +stage-coach; it would be with him, Bricconi Abbasso, as he +knocked their teeth out with the butt of his trombone; and the +old regular-built ruffian would be all the safer for it, as Bill +would say, as ten to one the Archbishop and Chapter, after such a +spice of his quality, would be afraid to swear against him, and +to hang him, even if he were in their power, though that would be +the proper way; for, if it is the greatest of all humbug for a +highwayman to curry favour with those he robs, the next greatest +is to try to curry favour with a highwayman when you have got +him, by letting him off.”</p> +<p>Finding the old man so well acquainted with the history of +highwaymen, and taking considerable interest in the subject, +having myself edited a book containing the lives of many +remarkable people who had figured on the highway, I forthwith +asked him how it was that the trade of highwaymen had become +extinct in England, as at present we never heard of any one +following it. Whereupon he told me that many causes had +contributed to bring about that result; the principal of which +were the following:—the refusal to license houses which +were known to afford shelter to highwaymen, which, amongst many +others, had caused the inn at Hounslow to be closed; the +inclosure of many a wild heath in the country, on which they were +in the habit of lurking, and particularly the establishing in the +neighbourhood of London of a well-armed mounted patrol, who rode +the highwaymen down, and delivered them up to justice, which +hanged them without ceremony.</p> +<p>“And that would be the way to deal with Mumbo Jumbo and +his gang,” said the postillion, “should they show +their visages in these realms; and I hear by the newspapers that +they are becoming every day more desperate. Take away the +license from their public-houses, cut down the rookeries and +shadowy old avenues in which they are fond of lying in wait, in +order to sally out upon people as they pass in the roads; but, +above all, establish a good mounted police to ride after the +ruffians and drag them by the scruff of the neck to the next +clink, where they might lie till they could be properly dealt +with by law; instead of which, the Government are repealing the +wise old laws enacted against such characters, giving fresh +licenses every day to their public-houses, and saying that it +would be a pity to cut down their rookeries and thickets because +they look so very picturesque; and, in fact, giving them all kind +of encouragement; why, if such behaviour is not enough to drive +an honest man mad, I know not what is. It is of no use +talking, I only wish the power were in my hands, and if I did not +make short work of them, might I be a mere jackass postillion all +the remainder of my life.”</p> +<p>Besides acquiring from the ancient ostler a great deal of +curious information respecting the ways and habits of the heroes +of the road, with whom he had come in contact in the early +portion of his life, I picked up from him many excellent hints +relating to the art of grooming horses. Whilst at the inn, +I frequently groomed the stage and post-horses, and those driven +up by travellers in their gigs: I was not compelled, nor indeed +expected, to do so; but I took pleasure in the occupation; and I +remember at that period one of the principal objects of my +ambition was to be a first-rate groom, and to make the skins of +the creatures I took in hand look sleek and glossy like those of +moles. I have said that I derived valuable hints from the +old man, and, indeed, became a very tolerable groom, but there +was a certain finishing touch which I could never learn from him, +though he possessed it himself, and which I could never attain to +by my own endeavours; though my want of success certainly did not +proceed from want of application, for I have rubbed the horses +down, purring and buzzing all the time, after the genuine ostler +fashion, until the perspiration fell in heavy drops upon my +shoes, and when I had done my best and asked the old fellow what +he thought of my work, I could never extract from him more than a +kind of grunt, which might be translated, “Not so very bad, +but I have seen a horse groomed much better,” which leads +me to suppose that a person, in order to be a first-rate groom, +must have something in him when he is born which I had not, and, +indeed, which many other people have not who pretend to be +grooms. What does the reader think?</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2> +<p>Stable Hartshorn—How to Manage a Horse on a +Journey—Your Best Friend.</p> +<p>Of one thing I am certain, that the reader must be much +delighted with the wholesome smell of the stable, with which many +of these pages are redolent; what a contrast to the sickly odours +exhaled from those of some of my contemporaries, especially of +those who pretend to be of the highly fashionable class, and who +treat of reception-rooms, well may they be styled so, in which +dukes, duchesses, earls, countesses, archbishops, bishops, +mayors, mayoresses—not forgetting the writers themselves, +both male and female—congregate and press upon one another; +how cheering, how refreshing, after having been nearly knocked +down with such an atmosphere, to come in contact with genuine +stable hartshorn. Oh! the reader shall have yet more of the +stable, and of that old ostler, for which he or she will +doubtless exclaim, “Much obliged!”—and, lest I +should forget to perform my promise, the reader shall have it +now.</p> +<p>I shall never forget an harangue from the mouth of the old +man, which I listened to one warm evening as he and I sat on the +threshold of the stable, after having attended to some of the +wants of a batch of coach-horses. It related to the manner +in which a gentleman should take care of his horse and self, +whilst engaged in a journey on horseback, and was addressed to +myself, on the supposition of my one day coming to an estate, and +of course becoming a gentleman.</p> +<p>“When you are a gentleman,” said he, “should +you ever wish to take a journey on a horse of your own, and you +could not have a much better than the one you have here eating +its fill in the box yonder—I wonder, by the bye, how you +ever came by it—you can’t do better than follow the +advice I am about to give you, both with respect to your animal +and yourself. Before you start, merely give your horse a +couple of handfuls of corn and a little water, somewhat under a +quart, and if you drink a pint of water yourself out of the pail, +you will feel all the better during the whole day; then you may +walk and trot your animal for about ten miles, till you come to +some nice inn, where you may get down and see your horse led into +a nice stall, telling the ostler not to feed him till you +come. If the ostler happens to be a dog-fancier, and has an +English terrier-dog like that of mine there, say what a nice dog +it is, and praise its black and tawn; and if he does not happen +to be a dog-fancier, ask him how he’s getting on, and +whether he ever knew worse times; that kind of thing will please +the ostler, and he will let you do just what you please with your +own horse, and when your back is turned, he’ll say to his +comrades what a nice gentleman you are, and how he thinks he has +seen you before; then go and sit down to breakfast, and, before +you have finished breakfast, get up and go and give your horse a +feed of corn; chat with the ostler two or three minutes till your +horse has taken the shine out of his corn, which will prevent the +ostler taking any of it away when your back is turned, for such +things are sometimes done—not that I ever did such a thing +myself when I was at the inn at Hounslow. Oh, dear me, +no! Then go and finish your breakfast, and when you have +finished your breakfast and called for the newspaper, go and +water your horse, letting him have one pailful, then give him +another feed of corn, and enter into discourse with the ostler +about bull-baiting, the prime minister, and the like; and when +your horse has once more taken the shine out of his corn, go back +to your room and your newspaper—and I hope for your sake it +may be the <i>Globe</i>, for that’s the best paper +going—then pull the bell-rope and order in your bill, which +you will pay without counting it up—supposing you to be a +gentleman. Give the waiter sixpence, and order out your +horse, and when your horse is out, pay for the corn, and give the +ostler a shilling, then mount your horse and walk him gently for +five miles; and whilst you are walking him in this manner, it may +be as well to tell you to take care that you do not let him down +and smash his knees, more especially if the road be a +particularly good one, for it is not at a desperate hiverman +pace, and over very bad roads, that a horse tumbles and smashes +his knees, but on your particularly nice road, when the horse is +going gently and lazily, and is half asleep, like the gemman on +his back; well, at the end of the five miles, when the horse has +digested his food, and is all right, you may begin to push your +horse on, trotting him a mile at a heat, and then walking him a +quarter of a one, that his wind may be not distressed; and you +may go on in that way for thirty miles, never galloping, of +course, for none but fools or hivermen ever gallop horses on +roads; and at the end of that distance you may stop at some other +nice inn to dinner. I say, when your horse is led into the +stable, after that same thirty miles’ trotting and walking, +don’t let the saddle be whisked off at once, for if you do +your horse will have such a sore back as will frighten you, but +let your saddle remain on your horse’s back, with the +girths loosened, till after his next feed of corn, and be sure +that he has no corn, much less water, till after a long hour and +more; after he is fed he may be watered to the tune of half a +pail, and then the ostler can give him a regular rub down; you +may then sit down to dinner, and when you have dined get up and +see to your horse as you did after breakfast, in fact, you must +do much after the same fashion you did at t’other inn; see +to your horse, and by no means disoblige the ostler. So +when you have seen to your horse a second time, you will sit down +to your bottle of wine—supposing you to be a +gentleman—and after you have finished it, and your argument +about the corn-laws with any commercial gentleman who happens to +be in the room, you may mount your horse again—not +forgetting to do the proper thing to the waiter and ostler; you +may mount your horse again and ride him, as you did before, for +about five and twenty miles, at the end of which you may put up +for the night after a very fair day’s journey, for no +gentleman—supposing he weighs sixteen stone, as I suppose +you will by the time you become a gentleman—ought to ride a +horse more than sixty-five miles in one day, provided he has any +regard for his horse’s back, or his own either. See +to your horse at night, and have him well rubbed down. The +next day you may ride your horse forty miles, just as you please, +but never foolishly, and those forty miles will bring you to your +journey’s end, unless your journey be a plaguy long one, +and if so, never ride your horse more than five and thirty miles +a day, always, however, seeing him well fed, and taking more care +of him than yourself; which is but right and reasonable, seeing +as how the horse is the best animal of the two.”</p> +<p>“When you are a gentleman,” said he, after a +pause, “the first thing you must think about is to provide +yourself with a good horse for your own particular riding; you +will, perhaps, keep a coach and pair, but they will be less your +own than your lady’s, should you have one, and your young +gentry, should you have any; or, if you have neither, for madam, +your housekeeper, and the upper female servants; so you need +trouble your head less about them, though, of course, you would +not like to pay away your money for screws; but be sure you get a +good horse for your own riding; and that you may have a good +chance of having a good one, buy one that’s young and has +plenty of belly—a little more than the one has which you +now have, though you are not yet a gentleman; you will, of +course, look to his head, his withers, legs and other points, but +never buy a horse at any price that has not plenty of belly; no +horse that has not belly is ever a good feeder, and a horse that +a’n’t a good feeder can’t be a good horse; +never buy a horse that is drawn up in the belly behind; a horse +of that description can’t feed, and can never carry sixteen +stone.</p> +<p>“So when you have got such a horse be proud of +it—as I daresay you are of the one you have now—and +wherever you go swear there a’n’t another to match it +in the country, and if anybody gives you the lie, take him by the +nose and tweak it off, just as you would do if anybody were to +speak ill of your lady, or, for want of her, of your +housekeeper. Take care of your horse, as you would of the +apple of your eye—I am sure I would, if I were a gentleman, +which I don’t ever expect to be, and hardly wish, seeing as +how I am sixty-nine, and am rather too old to ride—yes, +cherish and take care of your horse as perhaps the best friend +you have in the world; for, after all, who will carry you through +thick and thin as your horse will? not your gentlemen friends, I +warrant, nor your upper servants, male or female; perhaps your +lady would, that is, if she is a whopper, and one of the right +sort; the others would be more likely to take up mud and pelt you +with it, provided they saw you in trouble, than to help +you. So take care of your horse, and feed him every day +with your own hands; give him three quarters of a peck of corn +each day, mixed up with a little hay-chaff, and allow him besides +one hundredweight of hay in the course of the week; some say that +the hay should be hardland hay, because it is the wholesomest, +but I say, let it be clover hay, because the horse likes it best; +give him through summer and winter, once a week, a pailful of +bran mash, cold in summer and in winter hot; ride him gently +about the neighbourhood every day, by which means you will give +exercise to yourself and horse, and, moreover, have the +satisfaction of exhibiting yourself and your horse to advantage, +and hearing, perhaps, the men say what a fine horse, and the +ladies saying what a fine man: never let your groom mount your +horse, as it is ten to one, if you do, your groom will be wishing +to show off before company, and will fling your horse down. +I was groom to a gemman before I went to the inn at Hounslow, and +flung him a horse down worth ninety guineas, by endeavouring to +show off before some ladies that I met on the road. Turn +your horse out to grass throughout May and the first part of +June, for then the grass is sweetest, and the flies don’t +sting so bad as they do later in summer; afterwards merely turn +him out occasionally in the swale of the morn and the evening; +after September the grass is good for little, lash and sour at +best; every horse should go out to grass, if not his blood +becomes full of greasy humours, and his wind is apt to become +affected, but he ought to be kept as much as possible from the +heat and flies, always got up at night, and never turned out late +in the year—Lord! if I had always such a nice attentive +person to listen to me as you are, I could go on talking about +’orses to the end of time.”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> +<p>The Stage—Coachmen of England—A Bully Served +Out—Broughton’s Guard—The Brazen Head.</p> +<p>I lived on very good terms, not only with the master and the +old ostler, but with all the domestics and hangers on at the inn; +waiters, chambermaids, cooks, and scullions, not forgetting the +“boots,” of which there were three. As for the +postillions, I was sworn brother with them all, and some of them +went so far as to swear that I was the best fellow in the world; +for which high opinion entertained by them of me, I believe I was +principally indebted to the good account their comrade gave of +me, whom I had so hospitably received in the dingle. I +repeat that I lived on good terms with all the people connected +with the inn, and was noticed and spoken kindly to by some of the +guests—especially by that class termed commercial +travellers—all of whom were great friends and patronizers +of the landlord, and were the principal promoters of the dinner, +and subscribers to the gift of plate, which I have already spoken +of, the whole fraternity striking me as the jolliest set of +fellows imaginable, the best customers to an inn, and the most +liberal to servants; there was one description of persons, +however, frequenting the inn, which I did not like at all, and +which I did not get on well with, and these people were the +stage-coachmen.</p> +<p>The stage-coachmen of England, at the time of which I am +speaking, considered themselves mighty fine gentry, nay, I verily +believe the most important personages of the realm, and their +entertaining this high opinion of themselves can scarcely be +wondered at; they were low fellows, but masters at driving; +driving was in fashion, and sprigs of nobility used to dress as +coachmen and imitate the slang and behaviour of the coachmen, +from whom occasionally they would take lessons in driving as they +sat beside them on the box, which post of honour any sprig of +nobility who happened to take a place on a coach claimed as his +unquestionable right; and these sprigs would smoke cigars and +drink sherry with the coachmen in bar-rooms, and on the road; +and, when bidding them farewell, would give them a guinea or a +half-guinea, and shake them by the hand, so that these fellows, +being low fellows, very naturally thought no small liquor of +themselves, but would talk familiarly of their friends lords so +and so, the honourable misters so and so, and Sir Harry and Sir +Charles, and be wonderfully saucy to any one who was not a lord, +or something of the kind; and this high opinion of themselves +received daily augmentation from the servile homage paid them by +the generality of the untitled male passengers, especially those +on the fore part of the coach, who used to contend for the honour +of sitting on the box with the coachman when no sprig was nigh to +put in his claim. Oh! what servile homage these craven +creatures did pay these same coach fellows, more especially after +witnessing this or t’other act of brutality practised upon +the weak and unoffending—upon some poor friendless woman +travelling with but little money, and perhaps a brace of hungry +children with her, or upon some thin and half-starved man +travelling on the hind part of the coach from London to Liverpool +with only eighteen pence in his pocket after his fare was paid, +to defray his expenses on the road; for as the insolence of these +knights was vast, so was their rapacity enormous; they had been +so long accustomed to have crowns and half-crowns rained upon +them by their admirers and flatterers, that they would look at a +shilling, for which many an honest labourer was happy to toil for +ten hours under a broiling sun, with the utmost contempt; would +blow upon it derisively, or fillip it into the air before they +pocketed it; but when nothing was given them, as would +occasionally happen—for how could they receive from those +who had nothing? and nobody was bound to give them anything, as +they had certain wages from their employers—then what a +scene would ensue! Truly the brutality and rapacious +insolence of English coachmen had reached a climax; it was time +that these fellows should be disenchanted, and the +time—thank Heaven!—was not far distant. Let the +craven dastards who used to curry favour with them, and applaud +their brutality, lament their loss now that they and their +vehicles have disappeared from the roads; I, who have ever been +an enemy to insolence, cruelty, and tyranny, loathe their memory, +and, what is more, am not afraid to say so, well aware of the +storm of vituperation, partly learnt from them, which I may +expect from those who used to fall down and worship them.</p> +<p>Amongst the coachmen who frequented the inn was one who was +called “the bang-up coachman.” He drove to our +inn, in the fore part of every day, one of what were called the +fast coaches, and afterwards took back the corresponding +vehicle. He stayed at our house about twenty minutes, +during which time the passengers of the coach which he was to +return with dined; those at least who were inclined for dinner, +and could pay for it. He derived his sobriquet of +“the bang-up coachman” partly from his being dressed +in the extremity of coach dandyism, and partly from the peculiar +insolence of his manner, and the unmerciful fashion in which he +was in the habit of lashing on the poor horses committed to his +charge. He was a large tall fellow, of about thirty, with a +face which, had it not been bloated by excess, and insolence and +cruelty stamped most visibly upon it, might have been called +good-looking. His insolence indeed was so great, that he +was hated by all the minor fry connected with coaches along the +road upon which he drove, especially the ostlers, whom he was +continually abusing or finding fault with. Many was the +hearty curse which he received when his back was turned; but the +generality of people were much afraid of him, for he was a +swinging strong fellow, and had the reputation of being a +fighter, and in one or two instances had beaten in a barbarous +manner individuals who had quarrelled with him.</p> +<p>I was nearly having a fracas with this worthy. One day, +after he had been drinking sherry with a sprig, he swaggered into +the yard where I happened to be standing; just then a waiter came +by carrying upon a tray part of a splendid Cheshire cheese, with +a knife, plate, and napkin. Stopping the waiter, the +coachman cut with the knife a tolerably large lump out of the +very middle of the cheese, stuck it on the end of the knife, and +putting it to his mouth nibbled a slight piece off it, and then, +tossing the rest away with disdain, flung the knife down upon the +tray, motioning the waiter to proceed; “I wish,” said +I, “you may not want before you die what you have just +flung away,” whereupon the fellow turned furiously towards +me; just then, however, his coach being standing at the door, +there was a cry for coachman, so that he was forced to depart, +contenting himself for the present with shaking his fist at me, +and threatening to serve me out on the first opportunity; before, +however, the opportunity occurred he himself got served out in a +most unexpected manner.</p> +<p>The day after this incident he drove his coach to the inn, and +after having dismounted and received the contributions of the +generality of the passengers, he strutted up, with a cigar in his +mouth, to an individual who had come with him, and who had just +asked me a question with respect to the direction of a village +about three miles off, to which he was going. +“Remember the coachman,” said the knight of the box +to this individual, who was a thin person of about sixty, with a +white hat, rather shabby black coat, and buff-coloured trousers, +and who held an umbrella and a small bundle in his hand. +“If you expect me to give you anything,” said he to +the coachman, “you are mistaken; I will give you +nothing. You have been very insolent to me as I rode behind +you on the coach, and have encouraged two or three trumpery +fellows, who rode along with you, to cut scurvy jokes at my +expense, and now you come to me for money; I am not so poor, but +I could have given you a shilling had you been civil; as it is, I +will give you nothing.” “Oh! you won’t, +won’t you?” said the coachman; “dear me! +I hope I shan’t starve because you won’t give me +anything—a shilling! why, I could afford to give you twenty +if I thought fit, you pauper! civil to you, indeed! things are +come to a fine pass if I need be civil to you! Do you know +who you are speaking to? why, the best lords in the country are +proud to speak to me. Why, it was only the other day that +the Marquis of—said to me—” and then he went on +to say what the Marquis said to him; after which, flinging down +his cigar, he strutted up the road, swearing to himself about +paupers.</p> +<p>“You say it is three miles to ---,” said the +individual to me; “I think I shall light my pipe, and smoke +it as I go along.” Thereupon he took out from a +side-pocket a tobacco-box and short meerschaum pipe, and +implements for striking a light, filled his pipe, lighted it, and +commenced smoking. Presently the coachman drew near. +I saw at once that there was mischief in his eye; the man smoking +was standing with his back towards him, and he came so nigh to +him, seemingly purposely, that as he passed a puff of smoke came +of necessity against his face. “What do you mean by +smoking in my face?” said he, striking the pipe of the +elderly individual out of his mouth. The other, without +manifesting much surprise, said, “I thank you; and if you +will wait a minute, I will give you a receipt for that +favour;” then gathering up his pipe, and taking off his +coat and hat, he laid them on a stepping-block which stood near, +and rubbing his hands together, he advanced towards the coachman +in an attitude of offence, holding his hands crossed very near to +his face. The coachman, who probably expected anything but +such a movement from a person of the age and appearance of the +individual whom he had insulted, stood for a moment motionless +with surprise; but, recollecting himself, he pointed at him +derisively with his finger; the next moment, however, the other +was close upon him, had struck aside the extended hand with his +left fist, and given him a severe blow on the nose with his +right, which he immediately followed by a left-hand blow in the +eye; then drawing his body slightly backward, with the velocity +of lightning he struck the coachman full in the mouth, and the +last blow was the severest of all, for it cut the +coachman’s lips nearly through; blows so quickly and +sharply dealt I had never seen. The coachman reeled like a +fir-tree in a gale, and seemed nearly unsensed. “Ho! +what’s this? a fight! a fight!” sounded from a dozen +voices, and people came running from all directions to see what +was going on. The coachman, coming somewhat to himself, +disencumbered himself of his coat and hat; and, encouraged by two +or three of his brothers of the whip, showed some symptoms of +fighting, endeavouring to close with his foe, but the attempt was +vain, for his foe was not to be closed with; he did not shift or +dodge about, but warded off the blows of his opponent with the +greatest sang-froid, always using the guard which I have already +described, and putting in, in return, short chopping blows with +the swiftness of lightning. In a very few minutes the +countenance of the coachman was literally cut to pieces, and +several of his teeth were dislodged; at length he gave in; stung +with mortification, however, he repented, and asked for another +round; it was granted, to his own complete demolition. The +coachman did not drive his coach back that day, he did not appear +on the box again for a week; but he never held up his head +afterwards. Before I quitted the inn, he had disappeared +from the road, going no one knew where.</p> +<p>The coachman, as I have said before, was very much disliked +upon the road, but there was an esprit de corps amongst the +coachmen, and those who stood by did not like to see their +brother chastised in such tremendous fashion. “I +never saw such a fight before,” said one. +“Fight! why, I don’t call it a fight at all; this +chap here ha’n’t got a scratch, whereas Tom is cut to +pieces; it is all along of that guard of his; if Tom could have +got within his guard he would have soon served the old chap +out.” “So he would,” said another, +“it was all owing to that guard. However, I think I +see into it, and if I had not to drive this afternoon, I would +have a turn with the old fellow and soon serve him +out.” “I will fight him now for a +guinea,” said the other coachman, half taking off his coat; +observing, however, that the elderly individual made a motion +towards him, he hitched it upon his shoulder again, and added, +“that is, if he had not been fighting already, but as it +is, I am above taking an advantage, especially of such a poor old +creature as that.” And when he had said this, he +looked around him, and there was a feeble titter of approbation +from two or three of the craven crew, who were in the habit of +currying favour with the coachmen. The elderly individual +looked for a moment at these last, and then said, “To such +fellows as you I have nothing to say;” then turning to the +coachmen, “and as for you,” he said, “ye +cowardly bullies, I have but one word, which is, that your reign +upon the roads is nearly over, and that a time is coming when ye +will no longer be wanted or employed in your present capacity, +when ye will either have to drive dung-carts, assist as ostlers +at village ale-houses, or rot in the workhouse.” Then +putting on his coat and hat, and taking up his bundle, not +forgetting his meerschaum, and the rest of his smoking apparatus, +he departed on his way. Filled with curiosity, I followed +him.</p> +<p>“I am quite astonished that you should be able to use +your hands in the way you have done,” said I, as I walked +with this individual in the direction in which he was bound.</p> +<p>“I will tell you how I became able to do so,” said +the elderly individual, proceeding to fill and light his pipe as +he walked along. “My father was a journeyman +engraver, who lived in a very riotous neighbourhood in the +outskirts of London. Wishing to give me something of an +education, he sent me to a day-school, two or three streets +distant from where we lived, and there, being rather a puny boy, +I suffered much persecution from my schoolfellows, who were a +very blackguard set. One day, as I was running home, with +one of my tormentors pursuing me, old Sergeant Broughton, the +retired fighting-man, seized me by the arm—”</p> +<p>“Dear me,” said I, “has it ever been your +luck to be acquainted with Sergeant Broughton?”</p> +<p>“You may well call it luck,” said the elderly +individual; “but for him I should never have been able to +make my way through the world. He lived only four doors +from our house; so, as I was running along the street, with my +tyrant behind me, Sergeant Broughton seized me by the arm. +‘Stop, my boy,’ said he; ‘I have frequently +seen that scamp ill-treating you; now I will teach you how to +send him home with a bloody nose; down with your bag of books; +and now, my game chick,’ whispered he to me, placing +himself between me and my adversary, so that he could not observe +his motions; ‘clench your fist in this manner, and hold +your arms in this, and when he strikes at you, move them as I now +show you, and he can’t hurt you; now, don’t be +afraid, but go at him.’ I confess that I was somewhat +afraid, but I considered myself in some degree under the +protection of the famous Sergeant, and, clenching my fist, I went +at my foe, using the guard which my ally recommended. The +result corresponded to a certain degree with the predictions of +the Sergeant; I gave my foe a bloody nose and a black eye, +though, notwithstanding my recent lesson in the art of +self-defence, he contrived to give me two or three clumsy +blows. From that moment I was the especial favourite of the +Sergeant, who gave me further lessons, so that in a little time I +became a very fair boxer, beating everybody of my own size who +attacked me. The old gentleman, however, made me promise +never to be quarrelsome, nor to turn his instructions to account, +except in self-defence. I have always borne in mind my +promise, and have made it a point of conscience never to fight +unless absolutely compelled. Folks may rail against boxing +if they please, but being able to box may sometimes stand a quiet +man in good stead. How should I have fared to-day, but for +the instructions of Sergeant Broughton? But for them, the +brutal ruffian who insulted me must have passed unpunished. +He will not soon forget the lesson which I have just given +him—the only lesson he could understand. What would +have been the use of reasoning with a fellow of that +description? Brave old Broughton! I owe him +much.”</p> +<p>“And your manner of fighting,” said I, “was +the manner employed by Sergeant Broughton?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said my new acquaintance; “it was the +manner in which he beat every one who attempted to contend with +him, till, in an evil hour, he entered the ring with Slack, +without any training or preparation, and by a chance blow lost +the battle to a man who had been beaten with ease by those who, +in the hands of Broughton, appeared like so many children. +It was the way of fighting of him who first taught Englishmen to +box scientifically, who was the head and father of the fighters +of what is now called the old school, the last of which were +Johnson and Big Ben.”</p> +<p>“A wonderful man, that Big Ben,” said I.</p> +<p>“He was so,” said the elderly individual; +“but had it not been for Broughton, I question whether Ben +would have ever been the fighter he was. Oh! there was no +one like old Broughton; but for him I should at the present +moment be sneaking along the road, pursued by the hissings and +hootings of the dirty flatterers of that blackguard +coachman.”</p> +<p>“What did you mean,” said I, “by those words +of yours, that the coachmen would speedily disappear from the +roads?”</p> +<p>“I meant,” said he, “that a new method of +travelling is about to be established, which will supersede the +old. I am a poor engraver, as my father was before me; but +engraving is an intellectual trade, and by following it, I have +been brought in contact with some of the cleverest men in +England. It has even made me acquainted with the projector +of the scheme, which he has told me many of the wisest heads of +England have been dreaming of during a period of six hundred +years, and which it seems was alluded to by a certain Brazen Head +in the story-book of Friar Bacon, who is generally supposed to +have been a wizard, but in reality was a great philosopher. +Young man, in less than twenty years, by which time I shall be +dead and gone, England will be surrounded with roads of metal, on +which armies may travel with mighty velocity, and of which the +walls of brass and iron by which the friar proposed to defend his +native land are the types.” He then, shaking me by +the hand, proceeded on his way, whilst I returned to the inn.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> +<p>Francis Ardry—His Misfortunes—Dog and Lion +Fight—Great Men of the World.</p> +<p>A few days after the circumstance which I have last +commemorated, it chanced that, as I was standing at the door of +the inn, one of the numerous stage-coaches which were in the +habit of stopping there, drove up, and several passengers got +down. I had assisted a woman with a couple of children to +dismount, and had just delivered to her a band-box, which +appeared to be her only property, which she had begged me to +fetch down from the roof, when I felt a hand laid upon my +shoulder, and heard a voice exclaim, “Is it possible, old +fellow, that I find you in this place?” I turned +round, and, wrapped in a large blue cloak, I beheld my good +friend Francis Ardry. I shook him most warmly by the hand, +and said, “If you are surprised to see me, I am no less so +to see you; where are you bound to?”</p> +<p>“I am bound for L-; at any rate, I am booked for that +sea-port,” said my friend in reply.</p> +<p>“I am sorry for it,” said I, “for in that +case we shall have to part in a quarter of an hour, the coach by +which you came stopping no longer.”</p> +<p>“And whither are you bound?” demanded my +friend.</p> +<p>“I am stopping at present in this house, quite +undetermined as to what to do.”</p> +<p>“Then come along with me,” said Francis Ardry.</p> +<p>“That I can scarcely do,” said I; “I have a +horse in the stall which I cannot afford to ruin by racing to +L--- by the side of your coach.”</p> +<p>My friend mused for a moment: “I have no particular +business at L---,” said he; “I was merely going +thither to pass a day or two, till an affair, in which I am +deeply interested, at C--- shall come off. I think I shall +stay with you for four-and-twenty hours at least; I have been +rather melancholy of late, and cannot afford to part with a +friend like you at the present moment; it is an unexpected piece +of good fortune to have met you; and I have not been very +fortunate of late,” he added, sighing.</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “I am glad to see you once +more, whether fortunate, or not; where is your +baggage?”</p> +<p>“Yon trunk is mine,” said Francis, pointing to a +trunk of black Russian leather upon the coach.</p> +<p>“We will soon have it down,” said I; and at a word +which I gave to one of the hangers-on of the inn, the trunk was +taken from the top of the coach. “Now,” said I +to Francis Ardry, “follow me, I am a person of some +authority in this house;” thereupon I led Francis Ardry +into the house, and a word which I said to a waiter forthwith +installed Francis Ardry in a comfortable private sitting-room, +and his trunk in the very best sleeping-room of our extensive +establishment.</p> +<p>It was now about one o’clock: Francis Ardry ordered +dinner for two, to be ready at four, and a pint of sherry to be +brought forthwith, which I requested my friend the waiter might +be the very best, and which in effect turned out as I requested; +we sat down, and when we had drunk to each other’s health, +Frank requested me to make known to him how I had contrived to +free myself from my embarrassments in London, what I had been +about since I quitted that city, and the present posture of my +affairs.</p> +<p>I related to Francis Ardry how I had composed the Life of +Joseph Sell, and how the sale of it to the bookseller had enabled +me to quit London with money in my pocket, which had supported me +during a long course of ramble in the country, into the +particulars of which I, however, did not enter with any +considerable degree of fulness. I summed up my account by +saying that “I was at present a kind of overlooker in the +stables of the inn, had still some pounds in my purse, and, +moreover, a capital horse in the stall.”</p> +<p>“No very agreeable posture of affairs,” said +Francis Ardry, looking rather seriously at me.</p> +<p>“I make no complaints,” said I, “my +prospects are not very bright, it is true, but sometimes I have +visions both waking and sleeping, which, though always strange, +are invariably agreeable. Last night, in my chamber near +the hayloft, I dreamt that I had passed over an almost +interminable wilderness—an enormous wall rose before me, +the wall, methought, was the great wall of China:—strange +figures appeared to be beckoning to me from the top of the wall; +such visions are not exactly to be sneered at. Not that +such phantasmagoria,” said I, raising my voice, “are +to be compared for a moment with such desirable things as +fashion, fine clothes, cheques from uncles, parliamentary +interest, the love of splendid females. Ah! woman’s +love,” said I, and sighed.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter with the fellow?” said +Francis Ardry.</p> +<p>“There is nothing like it,” said I.</p> +<p>“Like what?”</p> +<p>“Love, divine love,” said I.</p> +<p>“Confound love,” said Francis Ardry, “I hate +the very name; I have made myself a pretty fool by it, but trust +me for ever being at such folly again. In an evil hour I +abandoned my former pursuits and amusements for it; in one +morning spent at Joey’s there was more real pleasure than +in—”</p> +<p>“Surely,” said I, “you are not hankering +after dog-fighting again, a sport which none but the gross and +unrefined care anything for? No, one’s thoughts +should be occupied by something higher and more rational than +dog-fighting; and what better than love—divine love? +Oh, there’s nothing like it!”</p> +<p>“Pray, don’t talk nonsense,” said Francis +Ardry.</p> +<p>“Nonsense,” said I; “why I was repeating, to +the best of my recollection, what I heard you say on a former +occasion.”</p> +<p>“If ever I talked such stuff,” said Francis Ardry, +“I was a fool; and indeed I cannot deny that I have been +one: no, there’s no denying that I have been a fool. +What do you think? that false Annette has cruelly abandoned +me.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “perhaps you have yourself +to thank for her having done so; did you never treat her with +coldness, and repay her marks of affectionate interest with +strange fits of eccentric humour?”</p> +<p>“Lord! how little you know of women,” said Francis +Ardry; “had I done as you suppose, I should probably have +possessed her at the present moment. I treated her in a +manner diametrically opposite to that. I loaded her with +presents, was always most assiduous to her, always at her feet, +as I may say, yet she nevertheless abandoned me—and for +whom? I am almost ashamed to say—for a +fiddler.”</p> +<p>I took a glass of wine, Francis Ardry followed my example, and +then proceeded to detail to me the treatment which he had +experienced from Annette, and from what he said, it appeared that +her conduct to him had been in the highest degree reprehensible; +notwithstanding he had indulged her in everything, she was never +civil to him, but loaded him continually with taunts and insults, +and had finally, on his being unable to supply her with a sum of +money which she had demanded, decamped from the lodgings which he +had taken for her, carrying with her all the presents which at +various times he had bestowed upon her, and had put herself under +the protection of a gentleman who played the bassoon at the +Italian Opera, at which place it appeared that her sister had +lately been engaged as a danseuse. My friend informed me +that at first he had experienced great agony at the ingratitude +of Annette, but at last had made up his mind to forget her, and, +in order more effectually to do so, had left London with the +intention of witnessing a fight, which was shortly coming off at +a town in these parts, between some dogs and a lion; which +combat, he informed me, had for some time past been looked +forward to with intense eagerness by the gentlemen of the +sporting world.</p> +<p>I commended him for his resolution, at the same time advising +him not to give up his mind entirely to dog-fighting, as he had +formerly done, but, when the present combat should be over, to +return to his rhetorical studies, and above all to marry some +rich and handsome lady on the first opportunity, as, with his +person and expectations, he had only to sue for the hand of the +daughter of a marquis to be successful, telling him, with a sigh, +that all women were not Annettes, and that, upon the whole, there +was nothing like them. To which advice he answered, that he +intended to return to rhetoric as soon as the lion fight should +be over, but that he never intended to marry, having had enough +of women; adding that he was glad he had no sister, as, with the +feelings which he entertained with respect to her sex, he should +be unable to treat her with common affection, and concluded by +repeating a proverb which he had learnt from an Arab whom he had +met at Venice, to the effect, that, “one who has been stung +by a snake, shivers at the sight of a sting.”</p> +<p>After a little more conversation, we strolled to the stable, +where my horse was standing; my friend, who was a connoisseur in +horseflesh, surveyed the animal with attention, and after +inquiring where and how I had obtained him, asked what I intended +to do with him; on my telling him that I was undetermined, and +that I was afraid the horse was likely to prove a burden to me, +he said, “It is a noble animal, and if you mind what you +are about, you may make a small fortune by him. I do not +want such an animal myself, nor do I know any one who does; but a +great horse-fair will be held shortly at a place where, it is +true, I have never been, but of which I have heard a great deal +from my acquaintances, where it is said a first-rate horse is +always sure to fetch its value; that place is Horncastle, in +Lincolnshire, you should take him thither.”</p> +<p>Francis Ardry and myself dined together, and after dinner +partook of a bottle of the best port which the inn +afforded. After a few glasses, we had a great deal of +conversation; I again brought the subject of marriage and love, +divine love, upon the carpet, but Francis almost immediately +begged me to drop it; and on my having the delicacy to comply, he +reverted to dog-fighting, on which he talked well and learnedly; +amongst other things, he said it was a princely sport of great +antiquity, and quoted from Quintus Curtius to prove that the +princes of India must have been of the fancy, they having, +according to that author, treated Alexander to a fight between +certain dogs and a lion. Becoming, notwithstanding my +friend’s eloquence and learning, somewhat tired of the +subject, I began to talk about Alexander. Francis Ardry +said he was one of the two great men whom the world has produced, +the other being Napoleon; I replied that I believed Tamerlane was +a greater man than either; but Francis Ardry knew nothing of +Tamerlane, save what he had gathered from the play of Timour the +Tartar. “No,” said he, “Alexander and +Napoleon are the great men of the world, their names are known +everywhere. Alexander has been dead upwards of two thousand +years, but the very English bumpkins sometimes christen their +boys by the name of Alexander—can there be a greater +evidence of his greatness? As for Napoleon, there are some +parts of India in which his bust is worshipped.” +Wishing to make up a triumvirate, I mentioned the name of +Wellington, to which Francis Ardry merely said, +“bah!” and resumed the subject of dog-fighting.</p> +<p>Francis Ardry remained at the inn during that day and the +next, and then departed to the dog and lion fight; I never saw +him afterwards, and merely heard of him once after a lapse of +some years, and what I then heard was not exactly what I could +have wished to hear. He did not make much of the advantages +which he possessed, a pity, for how great were those +advantages—person, intellect, eloquence, connection, +riches! yet, with all these advantages, one thing highly needful +seems to have been wanting in Francis. A desire, a craving, +to perform something great and good. Oh! what a vast deal +may be done with intellect, courage, riches, accompanied by the +desire of doing something great and good! Why, a person may +carry the blessings of civilization and religion to barbarous, +yet at the same time beautiful and romantic lands; and what a +triumph there is for him who does so! what a crown of glory! of +far greater value than those surrounding the brows of your mere +conquerors. Yet who has done so in these times? Not +many; not three, not two, something seems to have been always +wanting; there is, however, one instance, in which the various +requisites have been united, and the crown, the most desirable in +the world—at least which I consider to be the most +desirable—achieved, and only one, that of Brooke of +Borneo.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> +<p>Mr. Platitude and the Man in Black—The +Postillion’s Adventures—The Lone House—A Goodly +Assemblage.</p> +<p>It never rains, but it pours. I was destined to see at +this inn more acquaintances than one. On the day of Francis +Ardry’s departure, shortly after he had taken leave of me, +as I was standing in the corn-chamber, at a kind of writing-table +or desk, fastened to the wall, with a book before me, in which I +was making out an account of the corn and hay lately received and +distributed, my friend the postillion came running in out of +breath. “Here they both are,” he gasped out; +“pray do come and look at them.”</p> +<p>“Whom do you mean?” said I.</p> +<p>“Why, that red-haired Jack Priest, and that idiotic +parson, Platitude; they have just been set down by one of the +coaches, and want a postchaise to go across the country in; and +what do you think? I am to have the driving of them. +I have no time to lose, for I must get myself ready; so do come +and look at them.”</p> +<p>I hastened into the yard of the inn; two or three of the +helpers of our establishment were employed in drawing forward a +postchaise out of the chaise-house, which occupied one side of +the yard, and which was spacious enough to contain nearly twenty +of these vehicles, though it was never full, several of them +being always out upon the roads, as the demand upon us for +postchaises across the country was very great. “There +they are,” said the postillion, softly, nodding towards two +individuals, in one of whom I recognized the man in black, and in +the other Mr. Platitude; “there they are; have a good look +at them, while I go and get ready.” The man in black +and Mr. Platitude were walking up and down the yard, Mr. +Platitude was doing his best to make himself appear ridiculous, +talking very loudly in exceedingly bad Italian, evidently for the +purpose of attracting the notice of the bystanders, in which he +succeeded, all the stable-boys and hangers-on about the yard, +attracted by his vociferation, grinning at his ridiculous figure +as he limped up and down. The man in black said little or +nothing, but from the glances which he cast sideways appeared to +be thoroughly ashamed of his companion; the worthy couple +presently arrived close to where I was standing, and the man in +black, who was nearest to me, perceiving me, stood still as if +hesitating, but recovering himself in a moment, he moved on +without taking any farther notice; Mr. Platitude exclaimed as +they passed in broken lingo, “I hope we shall find the holy +doctors all assembled,” and as they returned, “I make +no doubt that they will all be rejoiced to see me.” +Not wishing to be standing an idle gazer, I went to the chaise +and assisted in attaching the horses, which had now been brought +out, to the pole. The postillion presently arrived, and +finding all ready took the reins and mounted the box, whilst I +very politely opened the door for the two travellers; Mr. +Platitude got in first, and, without taking any notice of me, +seated himself on the farther side. In got the man in +black, and seated himself nearest to me. “All is +right,” said I, as I shut the door, whereupon the +postillion cracked his whip, and the chaise drove out of the +yard. Just as I shut the door, however, and just as Mr. +Platitude had recommenced talking in jergo, at the top of his +voice, the man in black turned his face partly towards me, and +gave me a wink with his left eye.</p> +<p>I did not see my friend the postillion till the next morning, +when he gave me an account of the adventures he had met with on +his expedition. It appeared that he had driven the man in +black and the Reverend Platitude across the country by roads and +lanes which he had some difficulty in threading. At length, +when he had reached a part of the country where he had never been +before, the man in black pointed out to him a house near the +corner of a wood, to which he informed him they were bound. +The postillion said it was a strange-looking house, with a wall +round it; and, upon the whole, bore something of the look of a +madhouse. There was already a postchaise at the gate, from +which three individuals had alighted—one of them the +postillion said was a mean-looking scoundrel, with a regular +petty-larceny expression in his countenance. He was dressed +very much like the man in black, and the postillion said that he +could almost have taken his Bible oath that they were both of the +same profession. The other two he said were parsons, he +could swear that, though he had never seen them before; there +could be no mistake about them. Church of England parsons +the postillion swore they were, with their black coats, white +cravats, and airs, in which clumsiness and conceit were most +funnily blended—Church of England parsons of the Platitude +description, who had been in Italy, and seen the Pope, and kissed +his toe, and picked up a little broken Italian, and come home +greater fools than they went forth. It appeared that they +were all acquaintances of Mr. Platitude, for when the postillion +had alighted and let Mr. Platitude and his companion out of the +chaise, Mr. Platitude shook the whole three by the hand, +conversed with his two brothers in a little broken jergo, and +addressed the petty-larceny looking individual by the title of +Reverend Doctor. In the midst of these greetings, however, +the postillion said the man in black came up to him, and +proceeded to settle with him for the chaise; he had shaken hands +with nobody, and had merely nodded to the others; “and +now,” said the postillion, “he evidently wished to +get rid of me, fearing, probably, that I should see too much of +the nonsense that was going on. It was whilst settling with +me that he seemed to recognize me for the first time, for he +stared hard at me, and at last asked whether I had not been in +Italy; to which question, with a nod and a laugh, I replied that +I had. I was then going to ask him about the health of the +image of Holy Mary, and to say that I hoped it had recovered from +its horsewhipping; but he interrupted me, paid me the money for +the fare, and gave me a crown for myself, saying he would not +detain me any longer. I say, partner, I am a poor +postillion, but when he gave me the crown I had a good mind to +fling it in his face. I reflected, however, that it was not +mere gift-money, but coin which I had earned, and hardly too, so +I put it in my pocket, and I bethought me, moreover, that, knave +as I knew him to be, he had always treated me with civility; so I +nodded to him, and he said something which, perhaps, he meant for +Latin, but which sounded very much like ‘vails,’ and +by which he doubtless alluded to the money which he had given +me. He then went into the house with the rest, the coach +drove away which had brought the others, and I was about to get +on the box and follow; observing, however, two more chaises +driving up, I thought I would be in no hurry, so I just led my +horses and chaise a little out of the way, and pretending to be +occupied about the harness, I kept a tolerably sharp look-out at +the new arrivals. Well, partner, the next vehicle that +drove up was a gentleman’s carriage which I knew very well, +as well as those within it, who were a father and son, the father +a good kind old gentleman, and a justice of the peace, therefore +not very wise, as you may suppose; the son a puppy who has been +abroad, where he contrived to forget his own language, though +only nine months absent, and now rules the roast over his father +and mother, whose only child he is, and by whom he is thought +wondrous clever. So this foreigneering chap brings his poor +old father to this out-of-the-way house to meet these Platitudes +and petty-larceny villains, and perhaps would have brought his +mother too, only, simple thing, by good fortune she happens to be +laid up with the rheumatic. Well, the father and son, I beg +pardon, I mean the son and father, got down and went in, and then +after their carriage was gone, the chaise behind drove up, in +which was a huge fat fellow, weighing twenty stone at least, but +with something of a foreign look, and with him—who do you +think? Why, a rascally Unitarian minister, that is, a +fellow who had been such a minister, but who, some years ago +leaving his own people, who had bred him up and sent him to their +college at York, went over to the High Church, and is now, I +suppose, going over to some other church, for he was talking, as +he got down, wondrous fast in Latin, or what sounded something +like Latin, to the fat fellow, who appeared to take things +wonderfully easy, and merely grunted to the dog Latin which the +scoundrel had learnt at the expense of the poor Unitarians at +York. So they went into the house, and presently arrived +another chaise, but ere I could make any further observations, +the porter of the out-of-the-way house came up to me, asking what +I was stopping there for? bidding me go away, and not pry into +other people’s business. ‘Pretty +business,’ said I to him, ‘that is being transacted +in a place like this,’ and then I was going to say +something uncivil, but he went to attend to the new comers, and I +took myself away on my own business as he bade me, not, however, +before observing that these two last were a couple of +blackcoats.”</p> +<p>The postillion then proceeded to relate how he made the best +of his way to a small public-house, about a mile off, where he +had intended to bait, and how he met on the way a landau and +pair, belonging to a Scotch coxcomb whom he had known in London, +about whom he related some curious particulars, and then +continued: “Well, after I had passed him and his turn-out, +I drove straight to the public-house, where I baited my horses, +and where I found some of the chaises and drivers who had driven +the folks to the lunatic-looking mansion, and were now waiting to +take them up again. Whilst my horses were eating their +bait, I sat me down, as the weather was warm, at a table outside, +and smoked a pipe, and drank some ale, in company with the +coachman of the old gentleman who had gone to the house with his +son, and the coachman then told me that the house was a Papist +house, and that the present was a grand meeting of all the fools +and rascals in the country, who came to bow down to images, and +to concert schemes—pretty schemes no doubt—for +overturning the religion of the country, and that for his part he +did not approve of being concerned with such doings, and that he +was going to give his master warning next day. So, as we +were drinking and discoursing, up drove the chariot of the +Scotchman, and down got his valet and the driver, and whilst the +driver was seeing after the horses, the valet came and sat down +at the table where the gentleman’s coachman and I were +drinking. I knew the fellow well, a Scotchman like his +master, and just of the same kidney, with white kid gloves, red +hair frizzled, a patch of paint on his face, and his hands +covered with rings. This very fellow, I must tell you, was +one of those most busy in endeavouring to get me turned out of +the servants’ club in Park Lane, because I happened to +serve a literary man; so he sat down, and in a kind of affected +tone cried out, ‘Landlord, bring me a glass of cold +negus.’ The landlord, however, told him that there +was no negus, but that if he pleased, he could have a jug of as +good beer as any in the country. ‘Confound the +beer,’ said the valet, ‘do you think that I am +accustomed to such vulgar beverage?’ However, as he +found there was nothing better to be had, he let the man bring +him some beer, and when he had got it, soon showed that he could +drink it easily enough; so, when he had drunk two or three +draughts, he turned his eyes in a contemptuous manner, first, on +the coachman, and then on me: I saw the scamp recollected me, for +after staring at me and my dress for about half a minute, he put +on a broad grin, and flinging his head back, he uttered a loud +laugh. Well, I did not like this, as you may well believe, +and taking the pipe out of my mouth, I asked him if he meant +anything personal, to which he answered, that he had said nothing +to me, and that he had a right to look where he pleased, and +laugh when he pleased. Well, as to a certain extent he was +right, as to looking and laughing; and as I have occasionally +looked at a fool and laughed, though I was not the fool in this +instance, I put my pipe into my mouth and said no more. +This quiet and well-regulated behaviour of mine, however, the +fellow interpreted into fear; so, after drinking a little more, +he suddenly started up, and striding once or twice before the +table, he asked me what I meant by that impertinent question of +mine, saying that he had a good mind to wring my nose for my +presumption. ‘You have?’ said I, getting up, +and laying down my pipe. ‘Well, I’ll now give +you an opportunity.’ So I put myself in an attitude, +and went up to him, saying ‘I have an old score to settle +with you, you scamp; you wanted to get me turned out of the club, +didn’t you?’ And thereupon, remembering that he +had threatened to wring my nose, I gave him a snorter upon his +own. I wish you could have seen the fellow when he felt the +smart; so far from trying to defend himself, he turned round, and +with his hand to his face, attempted to run away; but I was now +in a regular passion, and following him up, got before him, and +was going to pummel away at him, when he burst into tears, and +begged me not to hurt him, saying that he was sorry if he had +offended me, and that, if I pleased, he would go down on his +knees, or do anything else I wanted. Well, when I heard him +talk in this manner, I, of course, let him be; I could hardly +help laughing at the figure he cut; his face all blubbered with +tears, and blood and paint; but I did not laugh at the poor +creature either, but went to the table and took up my pipe, and +smoked and drank as if nothing had happened; and the fellow, +after having been to the pump, came and sat down, crying, and +trying to curry favour with me and the coachman; presently, +however, putting on a confidential look, he began to talk of the +Popish house, and of the doings there, and said he supposed as +how we were of the party, and that it was all right; and then he +began to talk of the Pope of Rome, and what a nice man he was, +and what a fine thing it was to be of his religion, especially if +folks went over to him; and how it advanced them in the world, +and gave them consideration; and how his master, who had been +abroad and seen the Pope, and kissed his toe, was going over to +the Popish religion, and had persuaded him to consent to do so, +and to forsake his own, which I think the scoundrel called the +’Piscopal Church of Scotland, and how many others of that +church were going over, thinking to better their condition in +life by so doing, and to be more thought on; and how many of the +English Church were thinking of going over too—and that he +had no doubt that it would all end right and comfortably. +Well, as he was going on in this way, the old coachman began to +spit, and getting up, flung all the beer that was in his jug upon +the ground, and going away, ordered another jug of beer, and sat +down at another table, saying that he would not drink in such +company; and I too got up, and flung what beer remained in my +jug, there wasn’t more than a drop, in the fellow’s +face, saying, I would scorn to drink any more in such company; +and then I went to my horses, put them to, paid my reckoning, and +drove home.”</p> +<p>The postillion having related his story, to which I listened +with all due attention, mused for a moment, and then said, +“I dare say you remember how, some time since, when old +Bill had been telling us how the Government a long time ago, had +done away with robbing on the highway, by putting down the +public-houses and places which the highwaymen frequented, and by +sending a good mounted police to hunt them down, I said that it +was a shame that the present Government did not employ somewhat +the same means in order to stop the proceedings of Mumbo Jumbo +and his gang now-a-days in England. Howsomever, since I +have driven a fare to a Popish rendezvous, and seen something of +what is going on there, I should conceive that the Government are +justified in allowing the gang the free exercise of their +calling. Anybody is welcome to stoop and pick up nothing, +or worse than nothing, and if Mumbo Jumbo’s people, after +their expeditions, return to their haunts with no better plunder +in the shape of converts than what I saw going into yonder place +of call, I should say they are welcome to what they get; for if +that’s the kind of rubbish they steal out of the Church of +England, or any other church, who in his senses but would say a +good riddance, and many thanks for your trouble: at any rate, +that is my opinion of the matter.”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> +<p>Deliberations with Self-Resolution—Invitation to +Dinner—The Commercial Traveller—The Landlord’s +Offer—The Comet Wine.</p> +<p>It was now that I had frequent deliberations with +myself. Should I continue at the inn in my present +position? I was not very much captivated with it; there was +little poetry in keeping an account of the corn, hay, and straw +which came in, and was given out, and I was fond of poetry; +moreover, there was no glory at all to be expected in doing so, +and I was fond of glory. Should I give up that situation, +and remaining at the inn, become ostler under old Bill? +There was more poetry in rubbing down horses than in keeping an +account of straw, hay, and corn; there was also some prospect of +glory attached to the situation of ostler, for the grooms and +stable-boys occasionally talked of an ostler, a great way down +the road, who had been presented by some sporting people, not +with a silver vase, as our governor had been, but with a silver +currycomb, in testimony of their admiration for his skill; but I +confess that the poetry of rubbing down had become, as all other +poetry becomes, rather prosy by frequent repetition, and with +respect to the chance of deriving glory from the employment, I +entertained, in the event of my determining to stay, very slight +hope of ever attaining skill in the ostler art sufficient to +induce sporting people to bestow upon me a silver +currycomb. I was not half so good an ostler as old Bill, +who had never been presented with a silver currycomb, and I never +expected to become so, therefore what chance had I? It was +true, there was a prospect of some pecuniary emolument to be +derived by remaining in either situation. It was very +probable that, provided I continued to keep an account of the hay +and corn coming in and expended, the landlord would consent to +allow me a pound a week, which at the end of a dozen years, +provided I kept myself sober, would amount to a considerable +sum. I might, on the retirement of old Bill, by taking his +place, save up a decent sum of money, provided, unlike him, I +kept myself sober, and laid by all the shillings and sixpences I +got; but the prospect of laying up a decent sum of money was not +of sufficient importance to induce me to continue either at my +wooden desk, or in the inn-yard. The reader will remember +what difficulty I had to make up my mind to become a merchant +under the Armenian’s auspices, even with the prospect of +making two or three hundred thousand pounds by following the +Armenian way of doing business, so it was not probable that I +should feel disposed to be a book-keeper or ostler all my life +with no other prospect than being able to make a tidy sum of +money. If indeed, besides the prospect of making a tidy sum +at the end of perhaps forty years’ ostlering, I had been +certain of being presented with a silver currycomb with my name +engraved upon it, which I might have left to my descendants, or, +in default thereof, to the parish church destined to contain my +bones, with directions that it might be soldered into the wall +above the arch leading from the body of the church into the +chancel—I will not say with such a certainty of +immortality, combined with such a prospect of moderate pecuniary +advantage,—I might not have thought it worth my while to +stay, but I entertained no such certainty, and, taking everything +into consideration, I determined to mount my horse and leave the +inn.</p> +<p>This horse had caused me for some time past no little +perplexity; I had frequently repented of having purchased him, +more especially as the purchase had been made with another +person’s money, and had more than once shown him to people +who, I imagined, were likely to purchase him; but, though they +were profuse in his praise, as people generally are in the praise +of what they don’t intend to purchase, they never made me +an offer, and now that I had determined to mount on his back and +ride away, what was I to do with him in the sequel? I could +not maintain him long. Suddenly I bethought me of +Horncastle, which Francis Ardry had mentioned as a place where +the horse was likely to find a purchaser, and not having +determined upon any particular place to which to repair, I +thought that I could do no better than betake myself to +Horncastle in the first instance, and there endeavour to dispose +of my horse.</p> +<p>On making inquiries with respect to the situation of +Horncastle, and the time when the fair would be held, I learned +that the town was situated in Lincolnshire, about a hundred and +fifty miles from the inn at which I was at present sojourning, +and that the fair would be held nominally within about a month, +but that it was always requisite to be on the spot some days +before the nominal day of the fair, as all the best horses were +generally sold before that time, and the people who came to +purchase gone away with what they had bought.</p> +<p>The people of the inn were very sorry on being informed of my +determination to depart. Old Bill told me that he had hoped +as how I had intended to settle down there, and to take his place +as ostler when he was fit for no more work, adding, that though I +did not know much of the business, yet he had no doubt but that I +might improve. My friend the postillion was particularly +sorry, and taking me with him to the tap-room called for two +pints of beer, to one of which he treated me; and whilst we were +drinking told me how particularly sorry he was at the thought of +my going, but that he hoped I should think better of the +matter. On my telling him that I must go, he said that he +trusted I should put off my departure for three weeks, in order +that I might be present at his marriage, the banns of which were +just about to be published. He said that nothing would give +him greater pleasure than to see me dance a minuet with his wife +after the marriage dinner; but I told him it was impossible that +I should stay, my affairs imperatively calling me elsewhere; and +that with respect to my dancing a minuet, such a thing was out of +the question, as I had never learned to dance. At which he +said that he was exceedingly sorry, and finding me determined to +go, wished me success in all my undertakings.</p> +<p>The master of the house, to whom, as in duty bound, I +communicated my intention before I spoke of it to the servants, +was, I make no doubt, very sorry, though he did not exactly tell +me so. What he said was, that he had never expected that I +should remain long there, as such a situation never appeared to +him quite suitable to me, though I had been very diligent, and +had given him perfect satisfaction. On his inquiring when I +intended to depart, I informed him next day, whereupon he begged +that I would defer my departure till the next day but one, and do +him the favour of dining with him on the morrow. I informed +him that I should be only too happy.</p> +<p>On the following day at four o’clock I dined with the +landlord, in company with a commercial traveller. The +dinner was good, though plain, consisting of boiled +mackerel—rather a rarity in those parts at that +time—with fennel sauce, a prime baron of roast beef after +the mackerel, then a tart and noble Cheshire cheese; we had prime +sherry at dinner, and whilst eating the cheese prime porter, that +of Barclay, the only good porter in the world. After the +cloth was removed we had a bottle of very good port; and whilst +partaking of the port I had an argument with the commercial +traveller on the subject of the corn-laws.</p> +<p>The commercial traveller, having worsted me in the argument on +the subject of the corn-laws, got up in great glee, saying that +he must order his gig, as business must be attended to. +Before leaving the room, however, he shook me patronizingly by +the hand, and said something to the master of the house, but in +so low a tone that it escaped my ear.</p> +<p>No sooner had he departed than the master of the house told me +that his friend the traveller had just said that I was a +confounded sensible young fellow, and not at all opinionated, a +sentiment in which he himself perfectly agreed—then hemming +once or twice, he said that as I was going on a journey he hoped +I was tolerably well provided with money, adding that travelling +was rather expensive, especially on horseback, the manner in +which he supposed, as I had a horse in the stable, I intended to +travel. I told him that though I was not particularly well +supplied with money, I had sufficient for the expenses of my +journey, at the end of which I hoped to procure more. He +then hemmed again, and said that since I had been at the inn I +had rendered him a great deal of service in more ways than one, +and that he should not think of permitting me to depart without +making me some remuneration; then putting his hand into his +waistcoat pocket, he handed me a cheque for ten pounds, which he +had prepared beforehand, the value of which he said I could +receive at the next town, or that, if I wished it, any waiter in +the house would cash it for me. I thanked him for his +generosity in the best terms I could select, but, handing him +back the cheque, I told him that I could not accept it, saying, +that, so far from his being my debtor, I believed myself to be +indebted to him, as not only myself but my horse had been living +at his house for several weeks. He replied, that as for my +board at a house like his it amounted to nothing, and as for the +little corn and hay which the horse had consumed it was of no +consequence, and that he must insist upon my taking the +cheque. But I again declined, telling him that doing so +would be a violation of a rule which I had determined to follow, +and which nothing but the greatest necessity would ever compel me +to break through—never to incur obligations. +“But,” said he, “receiving this money will not +be incurring an obligation, it is your due.” “I +do not think so,” said I; “I did not engage to serve +you for money, nor will I take any from you.” +“Perhaps you will take it as a loan?” said he. +“No,” I replied, “I never borrow.” +“Well,” said the landlord, smiling, “you are +different from all others that I am acquainted with. I +never yet knew any one else who scrupled to borrow and receive +obligations; why, there are two baronets in the neighbourhood who +have borrowed money of me, ay, and who have never repaid what +they borrowed; and there are a dozen squires who are under +considerable obligations to me, who I dare say will never return +them. Come, you need not be more scrupulous than your +superiors—I mean in station.” “Every +vessel must stand on its own bottom,” said I; “they +take pleasure in receiving obligations, I take pleasure in being +independent. Perhaps they are wise, and I am a fool, I know +not, but one thing I am certain of, which is, that were I not +independent I should be very unhappy: I should have no visions +then.” “Have you any relations?” said the +landlord, looking at me compassionately; “excuse me, but I +don’t think you are exactly fit to take care of +yourself.” “There you are mistaken,” said +I, “I can take precious good care of myself; ay, and can +drive a precious hard bargain when I have occasion, but driving +bargains is a widely different thing from receiving gifts. +I am going to take my horse to Horncastle, and when there I shall +endeavour to obtain his full value—ay to the last +penny.”</p> +<p>“Horncastle!” said the landlord, “I have +heard of that place; you mustn’t be dreaming visions when +you get there, or they’ll steal the horse from under +you. Well,” said he, rising, “I shall not press +you further on the subject of the cheque. I intend, +however, to put you under an obligation to me.” He +then rang the bell, and having ordered two fresh glasses to be +brought, he went out and presently returned with a small pint +bottle, which he uncorked with his own hand; then sitting down, +he said, “The wine that I bring here, is port of eighteen +hundred and eleven, the year of the comet, the best vintage on +record; the wine which we have been drinking,” he added, +“is good, but not to be compared with this, which I never +sell, and which I am chary of. When you have drunk some of +it, I think you will own that I have conferred an obligation upon +you;” he then filled the glasses, the wine which he poured +out diffusing an aroma through the room; then motioning me to +drink, he raised his own glass to his lips, saying, “Come, +friend, I drink to your success at Horncastle.”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXX</h2> +<p>Triumphal Departure—No Season like Youth—Extreme +Old Age—Beautiful England—The Ratcatcher—A +Misadventure.</p> +<p>I departed from the inn much in the same fashion as I had come +to it, mounted on a splendid horse indifferently well +caparisoned, with the small valise attached to my crupper, in +which, besides the few things I had brought with me, was a small +book of roads with a map which had been presented to me by the +landlord. I must not forget to state that I did not ride +out of the yard, but that my horse was brought to me at the front +door by old Bill, who insisted upon doing so, and who refused a +five-shilling piece which I offered him; and it will be as well +to let the reader know that the landlord shook me by the hand as +I mounted, and that the people attached to the inn, male and +female—my friend the postillion at the head—assembled +before the house to see me off, and gave me three cheers as I +rode away. Perhaps no person ever departed from an inn with +more éclat or better wishes; nobody looked at me askance, +except two stage-coachmen who were loitering about, one of whom +said to his companion, “I say, Jim! twig his portmanteau! a +regular Newmarket turn-out, by—!”</p> +<p>It was in the cool of the evening of a bright day—all +the days of that summer were bright—that I departed. +I felt at first rather melancholy at finding myself again +launched into the wide world, and leaving the friends whom I had +lately made behind me; but by occasionally trotting the horse, +and occasionally singing a song of Romanvile, I had dispelled the +feeling of melancholy by the time I had proceeded three miles +down the main road. It was at the end of these three miles, +just opposite a milestone, that I struck into a cross road. +After riding about seven miles, threading what are called, in +postillion parlance, cross-country roads, I reached another high +road, tending to the east, along which I proceeded for a mile or +two, when coming to a small inn, about nine o’clock, I +halted and put up for the night.</p> +<p>Early on the following morning I proceeded on my journey, but +fearing to gall the horse, I no longer rode him, but led him by +the bridle, until I came to a town at the distance of about ten +miles from the place where I had passed the night. Here I +stayed during the heat of the day, more on the horse’s +account than my own, and towards evening resumed my journey, +leading the animal by the bridle as before; and in this manner I +proceeded for several days, travelling on an average from twenty +to twenty-five miles a day, always leading the animal, except +perhaps now and then of an evening, when, if I saw a good piece +of road before me, I would mount and put the horse into a trot, +which the creature seemed to enjoy as much as myself, showing his +satisfaction by snorting and neighing, whilst I gave utterance to +my own exhilaration by shouts, or by “the chi she is kaulo +she soves pré lakie dumo,” or by something else of +the same kind in Romanvile.</p> +<p>On the whole, I journeyed along very pleasantly, certainly +quite as pleasantly as I do at present, now that I am become a +gentleman and weigh sixteen stone, though some people would say +that my present manner of travelling is much the most preferable, +riding as I now do, instead of leading my horse; receiving the +homage of ostlers instead of their familiar nods; sitting down to +dinner in the parlour of the best inn I can find, instead of +passing the brightest part of the day in the kitchen of a village +alehouse; carrying on my argument after dinner on the subject of +the corn-laws, with the best commercial gentlemen on the road, +instead of being glad, whilst sipping a pint of beer, to get into +conversation with blind trampers, or maimed Abraham sailors, +regaling themselves on half-pints at the said village +hostelries. Many people will doubtless say that things have +altered wonderfully with me for the better, and they would say +right, provided I possessed now what I then carried about with me +in my journeys—the spirit of youth. Youth is the only +season for enjoyment, and the first twenty-five years of +one’s life are worth all the rest of the longest life of +man, even though those five-and-twenty be spent in penury and +contempt, and the rest in the possession of wealth, honours, +respectability, ay, and many of them in strength and health, such +as will enable one to ride forty miles before dinner, and over +one’s pint of port—for the best gentleman in the land +should not drink a bottle—carry on one’s argument, +with gravity and decorum, with any commercial gentleman who, +responsive to one’s challenge, takes the part of humanity +and common sense against “protection” and the lord of +the land.</p> +<p>Ah! there is nothing like youth—not that after-life is +valueless. Even in extreme old age one may get on very +well, provided we will but accept of the bounties of God. I +met the other day an old man, who asked me to drink. +“I am not thirsty,” said I, “and will not drink +with you.” “Yes, you will,” said the old +man, “for I am this day one hundred years old; and you will +never again have an opportunity of drinking the health of a man +on his hundredth birthday.” So I broke my word, and +drank. “Yours is a wonderful age,” said +I. “It is a long time to look back to the beginning +of it,” said the old man; “yet, upon the whole, I am +not sorry to have lived it all.” “How have you +passed your time?” said I. “As well as I +could,” said the old man; “always enjoying a good +thing when it came honestly within my reach; not forgetting to +praise God for putting it there.” “I suppose +you were fond of a glass of good ale when you were +young?” “Yes,” said the old man, “I +was; and so, thank God, I am still.” And he drank off +a glass of ale.</p> +<p>On I went in my journey, traversing England from west to +east—ascending and descending hills—crossing rivers +by bridge and ferry—and passing over extensive +plains. What a beautiful country is England! People +run abroad to see beautiful countries, and leave their own behind +unknown, unnoticed—their own the most beautiful! And +then, again, what a country for adventures! especially to those +who travel on foot, or on horseback. People run abroad in +quest of adventures, and traverse Spain or Portugal on mule or on +horseback; whereas there are ten times more adventures to be met +with in England than in Spain, Portugal, or stupid Germany to +boot. Witness the number of adventures narrated in the +present book—a book entirely devoted to England. Why, +there is not a chapter in the present book which is not full of +adventures, with the exception of the present one, and this is +not yet terminated.</p> +<p>After traversing two or three counties, I reached the confines +of Lincolnshire. During one particularly hot day I put up +at a public-house, to which, in the evening, came a party of +harvesters to make merry, who, finding me wandering about the +house a stranger, invited me to partake of their ale; so I drank +with the harvesters, who sang me songs about rural life, such +as—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Sitting in the swale; and listening to the +swindle of the flail, as it sounds dub-a-dub on the corn, from +the neighbouring barn.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>In requital for which I treated them with a song, not of +Romanvile, but the song of “Sivory and the horse +Grayman.” I remained with them till it was dark, +having, after sunset, entered into deep discourse with a +celebrated ratcatcher, who communicated to me the secrets of his +trade, saying, amongst other things, “When you see the rats +pouring out of their holes, and running up my hands and arms, +it’s not after me they comes, but after the oils I carries +about me they comes;” and who subsequently spoke in the +most enthusiastic manner of his trade, saying that it was the +best trade in the world, and most diverting, and that it was +likely to last for ever; for whereas all other kinds of vermin +were fast disappearing from England, rats were every day becoming +more abundant. I had quitted this good company, and having +mounted my horse, was making my way towards a town at about six +miles’ distance, at a swinging trot, my thoughts deeply +engaged on what I had gathered from the ratcatcher, when all on a +sudden a light glared upon the horse’s face, who purled +round in great terror, and flung me out of the saddle, as from a +sling, or with as much violence as the horse Grayman, in the +ballad, flings Sivord the Snareswayne. I fell upon the +ground—felt a kind of crashing about my neck—and +forthwith became senseless.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXI</h2> +<p>A Novel Situation—The Elderly Individual—The +Surgeon—A Kind Offer—Chimerical Ideas—Strange +Dream.</p> +<p>How long I remained senseless I cannot say, for a considerable +time, I believe; at length, opening my eyes, I found myself lying +on a bed in a middle-sized chamber, lighted by a candle, which +stood on a table—an elderly man stood near me, and a yet +more elderly female was holding a phial of very pungent salts to +my olfactory organ. I attempted to move, but felt very +stiff—my right arm appeared nearly paralysed, and there was +a strange dull sensation in my head. “You had better +remain still, young man,” said the elderly individual, +“the surgeon will be here presently; I have sent a message +for him to the neighbouring village.” “Where am +I?” said I, “and what has happened?” +“You are in my house,” said the old man, “and +you have been flung from a horse. I am sorry to say that I +was the cause. As I was driving home, the lights in my gig +frightened the animal.” “Where is the +horse?” said I. “Below, in my stable,” +said the elderly individual. “I saw you fall, but +knowing that on account of my age I could be of little use to +you, I instantly hurried home, the accident did not occur more +than a furlong off, and procuring the assistance of my lad, and +two or three neighbouring cottagers, I returned to the spot where +you were lying senseless. We raised you up, and brought you +here. My lad then went in quest of the horse, who had run +away as we drew nigh. When we saw him first he was standing +near you; he caught him with some difficulty, and brought him +home. What are you about?” said the old man, as I +strove to get off the bed. “I want to see the +horse,” said I. “I entreat you to be +still,” said the old man; “the horse is safe, I +assure you.” “I am thinking about his +knees,” said I. “Instead of thinking about your +horse’s knees,” said the old man, “be thankful +that you have not broke your own neck.” “You do +not talk wisely,” said I; “when a man’s neck is +broke, he is provided for; but when his horse’s knees are +broke, he is a lost jockey, that is, if he has nothing but his +horse to depend upon. A pretty figure I should cut at +Horncastle, mounted on a horse blood-raw at the +knees.” “Oh, you are going to +Horncastle,” said the old man, seriously, “then I can +sympathize with you in your anxiety about your horse, being a +Lincolnshire man, and the son of one who bred horses. I +will myself go down into the stable, and examine into the +condition of your horse, so pray remain quiet till I return; it +would certainly be a terrible thing to appear at Horncastle on a +broken-kneed horse.”</p> +<p>He left the room and returned in about ten minutes, followed +by another person. “Your horse is safe,” said +he, “and his knees are unblemished; not a hair +ruffled. He is a fine animal, and will do credit to +Horncastle; but here is the surgeon come to examine into your own +condition.” The surgeon was a man about thirty-five, +thin, and rather tall; his face was long and pale, and his hair, +which was light, was carefully combed back as much as possible +from his forehead. He was dressed very neatly, and spoke in +a very precise tone. “Allow me to feel your pulse, +friend?” said he, taking me by the right wrist. I +uttered a cry, for at the motion which he caused a thrill of +agony darted through my arm. “I hope your arm is not +broke, my friend,” said the surgeon, “allow me to +see; first of all, we must divest you of this cumbrous +frock.”</p> +<p>The frock was removed with some difficulty, and then the upper +vestments of my frame, with more difficulty still. The +surgeon felt my arm, moving it up and down, causing me +unspeakable pain. “There is no fracture,” said +he, at last, “but a contusion—a violent +contusion. I am told you were going to Horncastle; I am +afraid you will be hardly able to ride your horse thither in time +to dispose of him; however, we shall see—your arm must be +bandaged, friend; after which I shall bleed you, and administer a +composing draught.”</p> +<p>To be short, the surgeon did as he proposed, and when he had +administered the composing draught, he said, “Be of good +cheer; I should not be surprised if you are yet in time for +Horncastle.” He then departed with the master of the +house, and the woman, leaving me to my repose. I soon began +to feel drowsy, and was just composing myself to slumber, lying +on my back, as the surgeon had advised me, when I heard steps +ascending the stairs, and in a moment more the surgeon entered +again, followed by the master of the house. “I hope I +don’t disturb you,” said the former; “my reason +for returning is to relieve your mind from any anxiety with +respect to your horse. I am by no means sure that you will +be able, owing to your accident, to reach Horncastle in time: to +quiet you, however, I will buy your horse for any reasonable +sum. I have been down to the stable, and approve of his +figure. What do you ask for him?” “This +is a strange time of night,” said I, “to come to me +about purchasing my horse, and I am hardly in a fitting situation +to be applied to about such a matter. What do you want him +for?” “For my own use,” said the surgeon; +“I am a professional man, and am obliged to be continually +driving about; I cover at least one hundred and fifty miles every +week.” “He will never answer your +purpose,” said I, “he is not a driving horse, and was +never between shafts in his life; he is for riding, more +especially for trotting, at which he has few equals.” +“It matters not to me whether he is for riding or +driving,” said the surgeon, “sometimes I ride, +sometimes drive; so, if we can come to terms, I will buy him, +though remember it is chiefly to remove any anxiety from your +mind about him.” “This is no time for +bargaining,” said I, “if you wish to have the horse +for a hundred guineas, you may; if not—” +“A hundred guineas!” said the surgeon, “my good +friend, you must surely be light-headed; allow me to feel your +pulse,” and he attempted to feel my left wrist. +“I am not light-headed,” said I, “and I require +no one to feel my pulse; but I should be light-headed if I were +to sell my horse for less than I have demanded; but I have a +curiosity to know what you would be willing to +offer.” “Thirty pounds,” said the +surgeon, “is all I can afford to give; and that is a great +deal for a country surgeon to offer for a horse.” +“Thirty pounds!” said I, “why, he cost me +nearly double that sum. To tell you the truth, I am afraid +that you want to take advantage of my situation.” +“Not in the least, friend,” said the surgeon, +“not in the least; I only wished to set your mind at rest +about your horse; but as you think he is worth more than I can +afford to offer, take him to Horncastle by all means; I will do +my best to cure you in time. Good night, I will see you +again on the morrow.” Thereupon he once more departed +with the master of the house. “A sharp one,” I +heard him say, with a laugh, as the door closed upon him.</p> +<p>Left to myself, I again essayed to compose myself to rest, but +for some time in vain. I had been terribly shaken by my +fall, and had subsequently, owing to the incision of the +surgeon’s lancet, been deprived of much of the vital fluid; +it is when the body is in such a state that the merest trifles +affect and agitate the mind; no wonder, then, that the return of +the surgeon and the master of the house for the purpose of +inquiring whether I would sell my horse, struck me as being +highly extraordinary, considering the hour of the night, and the +situation in which they knew me to be. What could they mean +by such conduct—did they wish to cheat me of the +animal? “Well, well,” said I, “if they +did, what matters, they found their match; yes, yes,” said +I, “but I am in their power, perhaps”—but I +instantly dismissed the apprehension which came into my mind, +with a pooh, nonsense! In a little time, however, a far +more foolish and chimerical idea began to disturb me—the +idea of being flung from my horse; was I not disgraced for ever +as a horseman by being flung from my horse? Assuredly, I +thought; and the idea of being disgraced as a horseman, operating +on my nervous system, caused me very acute misery. +“After all,” said I to myself, “it was perhaps +the contemptible opinion which the surgeon must have formed of my +equestrian powers, which induced him to offer to take my horse +off my hands; he perhaps thought I was unable to manage a horse, +and therefore in pity returned in the dead of night to offer to +purchase the animal which had flung me;” and then the +thought that the surgeon had conceived a contemptible opinion of +my equestrian powers, caused me the acutest misery, and continued +tormenting me until some other idea (I have forgot what it was, +but doubtless equally foolish) took possession of my mind. +At length, brought on by the agitation of my spirits, there came +over me the same feeling of horror that I had experienced of old +when I was a boy, and likewise of late within the dingle; it was, +however, not so violent as it had been on those occasions, and I +struggled manfully against it, until by degrees it passed away, +and then I fell asleep; and in my sleep I had an ugly +dream. I dreamt that I had died of the injuries I had +received from my fall, and that no sooner had my soul departed +from my body than it entered that of a quadruped, even my own +horse in the stable—in a word, I was, to all intents and +purposes, my own steed; and as I stood in the stable chewing hay +(and I remember that the hay was exceedingly tough), the door +opened, and the surgeon who had attended me came in. +“My good animal,” said he, “as your late master +has scarcely left enough to pay for the expenses of his funeral, +and nothing to remunerate me for my trouble, I shall make bold to +take possession of you. If your paces are good, I shall +keep you for my own riding; if not, I shall take you to +Horncastle, your original destination.” He then +bridled and saddled me, and, leading me out, mounted, and then +trotted me up and down before the house, at the door of which the +old man, who now appeared to be dressed in regular jockey +fashion, was standing. “I like his paces well,” +said the surgeon; “I think I shall take him for my own +use.” “And what am I to have for all the +trouble his master caused me?” said my late entertainer, on +whose countenance I now observed, for the first time, a +diabolical squint. “The consciousness of having done +your duty to a fellow-creature in succouring him in a time of +distress, must be your reward,” said the surgeon. +“Pretty gammon, truly,” said my late entertainer; +“what would you say if I were to talk in that way to +you? Come, unless you choose to behave jonnock, I shall +take the bridle and lead the horse back into the +stable.” “Well,” said the surgeon, +“we are old friends, and I don’t wish to dispute with +you, so I’ll tell you what I will do; I will ride the +animal to Horncastle, and we will share what he fetches like +brothers.” “Good,” said the old man, +“but if you say that you have sold him for less than a +hundred, I shan’t consider you jonnock; remember what the +young fellow said—that young fellow—” I +heard no more, for the next moment I found myself on a broad road +leading, as I supposed, in the direction of Horncastle, the +surgeon still in the saddle, and my legs moving at a rapid +trot. “Get on,” said the surgeon, jerking my +mouth with the bit; whereupon, full of rage, I instantly set off +at a full gallop, determined, if possible, to dash my rider to +the earth. The surgeon, however, kept his seat, and, so far +from attempting to abate my speed, urged me on to greater efforts +with a stout stick, which methought he held in his hand. In +vain did I rear and kick, attempting to get rid of my foe; but +the surgeon remained as saddle-fast as ever the Maugrabin +sorcerer in the Arabian tale what time he rode the young prince +transformed into a steed to his enchanted palace in the +wilderness. At last, as I was still madly dashing on, +panting and blowing, and had almost given up all hope, I saw at a +distance before me a heap of stones by the side of the road, +probably placed there for the purpose of repairing it; a thought +appeared to strike me—I will shy at those stones, and, if I +can’t get rid of him so, resign myself to my fate. So +I increased my speed, till arriving within about ten yards of the +heap, I made a desperate start, turning half round with nearly +the velocity of a mill-stone. Oh, the joy I experienced +when I felt my enemy canted over my neck, and saw him lying +senseless in the road. “I have you now in my +power,” I said, or rather neighed, as, going up to my +prostrate foe, I stood over him. “Suppose I were to +rear now, and let my fore feet fall upon you, what would your +life be worth? that is, supposing you are not killed already; but +lie there, I will do you no further harm, but trot to Horncastle +without a rider, and when there—” and without further +reflection off I trotted in the direction of Horncastle, but had +not gone far before my bridle, falling from my neck, got +entangled with my off fore foot. I felt myself falling, a +thrill of agony shot through me—my knees would be broken, +and what should I do at Horncastle with a pair of broken +knees? I struggled, but I could not disengage my off fore +foot, and downward I fell, but before I had reached the ground I +awoke, and found myself half out of bed, my bandaged arm in +considerable pain, and my left hand just touching the floor.</p> +<p>With some difficulty I readjusted myself in bed. It was +now early morning, and the first rays of the sun were beginning +to penetrate the white curtains of a window on my left, which +probably looked into the garden, as I caught a glimpse or two of +the leaves of trees through a small uncovered part at the +side. For some time I felt uneasy and anxious, my spirits +being in a strange fluttering state. At last my eyes fell +upon a small row of tea-cups seemingly of china, which stood on a +mantelpiece exactly fronting the bottom of the bed. The +sight of these objects, I know not why, soothed and pacified me; +I kept my eyes fixed upon them, as I lay on my back on the bed, +with my head upon the pillow, till at last I fell into a calm and +refreshing sleep.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXII</h2> +<p>The Morning after a Fall—The Teapot—Unpretending +Hospitality—The Chinese Student.</p> +<p>It might be about eight o’clock in the morning when I +was awakened by the entrance of the old man. “How +have you rested?” said he, coming up to the bedside, and +looking me in the face. “Well,” said I, +“and I feel much better, but I am still very +sore.” I surveyed him now for the first time with +attention. He was dressed in a sober-coloured suit, and was +apparently between sixty and seventy. In stature he was +rather above the middle height, but with a slight stoop; his +features were placid, and expressive of much benevolence, but, as +it appeared to me, with rather a melancholy cast—as I gazed +upon them, I felt ashamed that I should ever have conceived in my +brain a vision like that of the preceding night, in which he +appeared in so disadvantageous a light. At length he said, +“It is now time for you to take some refreshment. I +hear my old servant coming up with your breakfast.” +In a moment the elderly female entered with a tray, on which was +some bread and butter, a teapot and cup. The cup was of +common blue earthenware, but the pot was of china, curiously +fashioned, and seemingly of great antiquity. The old man +poured me out a cupful of tea, and then, with the assistance of +the woman, raised me higher, and propped me up with the +pillows. I ate and drank; when the pot was emptied of its +liquid (it did not contain much), I raised it up with my left +hand to inspect it. The sides were covered with curious +characters, seemingly hieroglyphics. After surveying them +for some time, I replaced it upon the tray. “You seem +fond of china,” said I, to the old man, after the servant +had retired with the breakfast things, and I had returned to my +former posture; “you have china on the mantelpiece, and +that was a remarkable teapot out of which I have just been +drinking.”</p> +<p>The old man fixed his eyes intently on me, and methought the +expression of his countenance became yet more melancholy. +“Yes,” said he, at last, “I am fond of +china—I have reason to be fond of china—but for china +I should—” and here he sighed again.</p> +<p>“You value it for the quaintness and singularity of its +form,” said I; “it appears to be less adapted for +real use than our own pottery.”</p> +<p>“I care little about its form,” said the old man; +“I care for it simply on account of—however, why talk +to you on the subject which can have no possible interest to +you? I expect the surgeon here presently.”</p> +<p>“I do not like that surgeon at all,” said I; +“how strangely he behaved last night, coming back, when I +was just falling asleep, to ask me if I would sell my +horse.”</p> +<p>The old man smiled. “He has but one +failing,” said he, “an itch for horse-dealing; but +for that he might be a much richer man than he is; he is +continually buying and exchanging horses, and generally finds +himself a loser by his bargains: but he is a worthy creature, and +skilful in his profession—it is well for you that you are +under his care.”</p> +<p>The old man then left me, and in about an hour returned with +the surgeon, who examined me and reported favourably as to my +case. He spoke to me with kindness and feeling, and did not +introduce the subject of the horse. I asked him whether he +thought I should be in time for the fair. “I saw some +people making their way thither to-day,” said he; +“the fair lasts three weeks, and it has just +commenced. Yes, I think I may promise you that you will be +in time for the very heat of it. In a few days you will be +able to mount your saddle with your arm in a sling, but you must +by no means appear with your arm in a sling at Horncastle, as +people would think that your horse had flung you, and that you +wanted to dispose of him because he was a vicious brute. +You must, by all means, drop the sling before you get to +Horncastle.”</p> +<p>For three days I kept my apartment by the advice of the +surgeon. I passed my time as I best could. Stretched +on my bed, I either abandoned myself to reflection, or listened +to the voices of the birds in the neighbouring garden. +Sometimes, as I lay awake at night, I would endeavour to catch +the tick of a clock, which methought sounded from some distant +part of the house.</p> +<p>The old man visited me twice or thrice every day to inquire +into my state. His words were few on these occasions, and +he did not stay long. Yet his voice and his words were +kind. What surprised me most in connection with this +individual was, the delicacy of conduct which he exhibited in not +letting a word proceed from his lips which could testify +curiosity respecting who I was, or whence I came. All he +knew of me was, that I had been flung from my horse on my way to +a fair for the purpose of disposing of the animal; and that I was +now his guest. I might be a common horse-dealer for what he +knew, yet I was treated by him with all the attention which I +could have expected, had I been an alderman of Boston’s +heir, and known to him as such. The county in which I am +now, thought I at last, must be either extraordinarily devoted to +hospitality, or this old host of mine must be an extraordinary +individual. On the evening of the fourth day, feeling tired +of my confinement, I put my clothes on in the best manner I +could, and left the chamber. Descending a flight of stairs, +I reached a kind of quadrangle, from which branched two or three +passages; one of these I entered, which had a door at the farther +end, and one on each side; the one to the left standing partly +open, I entered it, and found myself in a middle-sized room with +a large window, or rather glass-door, which looked into a garden, +and which stood open. There was nothing remarkable in this +room, except a large quantity of china. There was china on +the mantelpiece—china on two tables, and a small beaufet, +which stood opposite the glass-door, was covered with +china—there were cups, teapots, and vases of various forms, +and on all of them I observed characters—not a teapot, not +a tea-cup, not a vase of whatever form or size, but appeared to +possess hieroglyphics on some part or other. After +surveying these articles for some time with no little interest, I +passed into the garden, in which there were small parterres of +flowers, and two or three trees, and which, where the house did +not abut, was bounded by a wall; turning to the right by a walk +by the side of a house, I passed by a door—probably the one +I had seen at the end of the passage—and arrived at another +window similar to that through which I had come, and which also +stood open; I was about to pass through it, when I heard the +voice of my entertainer exclaiming, “Is that you? pray come +in.”</p> +<p>I entered the room, which seemed to be a counterpart of the +one which I had just left. It was of the same size, had the +same kind of furniture, and appeared to be equally well stocked +with china; one prominent article it possessed, however, which +the other room did not exhibit—namely, a clock, which, with +its pendulum moving tick-a-tick, hung against the wall opposite +to the door, the sight of which made me conclude that the sound +which methought I had heard in the stillness of the night was not +an imaginary one. There it hung on the wall, with its +pendulum moving tick-a-tick. The old gentleman was seated +in an easy chair a little way into the room, having the +glass-door on his right hand. On a table before him lay a +large open volume, in which I observed Roman letters as well as +characters. A few inches beyond the book on the table, +covered all over with hieroglyphics, stood a china vase. +The eyes of the old man were fixed upon it.</p> +<p>“Sit down,” said he, motioning me with his hand to +a stool close by, but without taking his eyes from the vase.</p> +<p>“I can’t make it out,” said he, at last, +removing his eyes from the vase, and leaning back on the chair, +“I can’t make it out.”</p> +<p>“I wish I could assist you,” said I.</p> +<p>“Assist me,” said the old man, looking at me with +a half smile.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said I, “but I don’t understand +Chinese.”</p> +<p>“I suppose not,” said the old man, with another +slight smile; “but—but—”</p> +<p>“Pray proceed,” said I.</p> +<p>“I wished to ask you,” said the old man, +“how you knew that the characters on yon piece of crockery +were Chinese; or, indeed, that there was such a +language?”</p> +<p>“I knew the crockery was china,” said I, +“and naturally enough supposed what was written upon it to +be Chinese; as for there being such a language—the English +have a language, the French have a language, and why not the +Chinese?”</p> +<p>“May I ask you a question?”</p> +<p>“As many as you like.”</p> +<p>“Do you know any language besides English?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said I, “I know a little of two or +three.”</p> +<p>“May I ask their names?”</p> +<p>“Why not?” said I, “I know a little +French.”</p> +<p>“Anything else?”</p> +<p>“Yes, a little Welsh, and a little Haik.”</p> +<p>“What is Haik?”</p> +<p>“Armenian.”</p> +<p>“I am glad to see you in my house,” said the old +man, shaking me by the hand; “how singular that one coming +as you did should know Armenian!”</p> +<p>“Not more singular,” said I, “than that one +living in such a place as this should know Chinese. How +came you to acquire it?”</p> +<p>The old man looked at me, and sighed. “I beg +pardon,” said I, “for asking what is, perhaps, an +impertinent question; I have not imitated your own delicacy; you +have never asked me a question without first desiring permission, +and here I have been days and nights in your house an intruder on +your hospitality, and you have never so much as asked me who I +am.”</p> +<p>“In forbearing to do that,” said the old man, +“I merely obeyed the Chinese precept, ‘Ask no +questions of a guest;’ it is written on both sides of the +teapot out of which you have had your tea.”</p> +<p>“I wish I knew Chinese,” said I. “Is +it a difficult language to acquire?”</p> +<p>“I have reason to think so,” said the old +man. “I have been occupied upon it five-and-thirty +years, and I am still very imperfectly acquainted with it; at +least, I frequently find upon my crockery sentences the meaning +of which to me is very dark, though it is true these sentences +are mostly verses, which are, of course, more difficult to +understand than mere prose.”</p> +<p>“Are your Chinese studies,” said I, +“confined to crockery literature?”</p> +<p>“Entirely,” said the old man; “I read +nothing else.”</p> +<p>“I have heard,” said I, “that the Chinese +have no letters, but that for every word they have a separate +character—is it so?”</p> +<p>“For every word they have a particular character,” +said the old man; “though, to prevent confusion, they have +arranged their words under two hundred and fourteen what we +should call radicals, but which they call keys. As we +arrange all our words in a dictionary under twenty-four letters, +so do they arrange all their words, or characters, under two +hundred and fourteen radical signs; the simplest radicals being +the first, and the more complex the last.”</p> +<p>“Does the Chinese resemble any of the European languages +in words?” said I.</p> +<p>“I am scarcely competent to inform you,” said the +old man; “but I believe not.”</p> +<p>“What does that character represent?” said I, +pointing to one on the vase.</p> +<p>“A knife,” said the old man, “that character +is one of the simplest radicals or keys.”</p> +<p>“And what is the sound of it?” said I.</p> +<p>“Tau,” said the old man.</p> +<p>“Tau!” said I; “tau!”</p> +<p>“A strange word for a knife is it not?” said the +old man.</p> +<p>“Tawse!” said I; “tawse!”</p> +<p>“What is tawse?” said the old man.</p> +<p>“You were never at school at Edinburgh, I +suppose?”</p> +<p>“Never,” said the old man.</p> +<p>“That accounts for your not knowing the meaning of +tawse,” said I; “had you received the rudiments of a +classical education at the High School, you would have known the +meaning of tawse full well. It is a leathern thong, with +which refractory urchins are recalled to a sense of their duty by +the dominie. Tau—tawse—how singular!”</p> +<p>“I cannot see what the two words have in common, except +a slight agreement in sound.”</p> +<p>“You will see the connection,” said I, “when +I inform you that the thong, from the middle to the bottom, is +cut or slit into two or three parts, from which slits or cuts, +unless I am very much mistaken, it derives its name—tawse, +a thong with slits or cuts, used for chastising disorderly +urchins at the High School, from the French tailler, to cut; +evidently connected with the Chinese tau, a knife—how very +extraordinary!”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2> +<p>Convalescence—The Surgeon’s Bill—Letter of +Recommendation—Commencement of the Old Man’s +History.</p> +<p>Two days—three days passed away—and I still +remained at the house of my hospitable entertainer; my bruised +limb rapidly recovering the power of performing its +functions. I passed my time agreeably enough, sometimes in +my chamber, communing with my own thoughts; sometimes in the +stable, attending to, and not unfrequently conversing with, my +horse; and at meal-time—for I seldom saw him at any +other—discoursing with the old gentleman, sometimes on the +Chinese vocabulary, sometimes on Chinese syntax, and once or +twice on English horseflesh; though on this latter subject, +notwithstanding his descent from a race of horse-traders, he did +not enter into with much alacrity. As a small requital for +his kindness, I gave him one day, after dinner, unasked, a brief +account of my history and pursuits. He listened with +attention; and when it was concluded, thanked me for the +confidence which I had reposed in him. “Such +conduct,” said he, “deserves a return. I will +tell you my own history; it is brief, but may perhaps not prove +uninteresting to you—though the relation of it will give me +some pain.” “Pray, then, do not recite +it,” said I. “Yes,” said the old man, +“I will tell you, for I wish you to know it.” +He was about to begin, when he was interrupted by the arrival of +the surgeon. The surgeon examined into the state of my +bruised limb, and told me, what indeed I already well knew, that +it was rapidly improving. “You will not even require +a sling,” said he, “to ride to Horncastle. When +do you propose going?” he demanded. “When do +you think I may venture?” I replied. “I think, +if you are a tolerably good horseman, you may mount the day after +to-morrow,” answered the medical man. +“By-the-bye, are you acquainted with anybody at +Horncastle?” “With no living soul,” I +answered. “Then you would scarcely find stable-room +for your horse. But I am happy to be able to assist +you. I have a friend there who keeps a small inn, and who, +during the time of the fair, keeps a stall vacant for any +quadruped I may bring, until he knows whether I am coming or +not. I will give you a letter to him, and he will see after +the accommodation of your horse. To-morrow I will pay you a +farewell visit, and bring you the letter.” +“Thank you,” said I; “and do not forget to +bring your bill.” The surgeon looked at the old man, +who gave him a peculiar nod. “Oh!” said he, in +reply to me, “for the little service I have rendered you, I +require no remuneration. You are in my friend’s +house, and he and I understand each other.” “I +never receive such favours,” said I, “as you have +rendered me, without remunerating them; therefore I shall expect +your bill.” “Oh! just as you please,” +said the surgeon; and shaking me by the hand more warmly than he +had hitherto done, he took his leave.</p> +<p>On the evening of the next day, the last which I spent with my +kind entertainer, I sat at tea with him in a little summer-house +in his garden, partially shaded by the boughs of a large +fig-tree. The surgeon had shortly before paid me his +farewell visit, and had brought me the letter of introduction to +his friend at Horncastle, and also his bill, which I found +anything but extravagant. After we had each respectively +drank the contents of two cups—and it may not be amiss here +to inform the reader that though I took cream with my tea, as I +always do when I can procure that addition, the old man, like +most people bred up in the country, drank his without it—he +thus addressed me:—“I am, as I told you on the night +of your accident, the son of a breeder of horses, a respectable +and honest man. When I was about twenty he died, leaving +me, his only child, a comfortable property, consisting of about +two hundred acres of land and some fifteen hundred pounds in +money. My mother had died about three years +previously. I felt the death of my mother keenly, but that +of my father less than was my duty; indeed, truth compels me to +acknowledge that I scarcely regretted his death. The cause +of this want of proper filial feeling was the opposition which I +had experienced from him in an affair which deeply concerned +me. I had formed an attachment for a young female in the +neighbourhood, who, though poor, was of highly respectable birth, +her father having been a curate of the Established Church. +She was, at the time of which I am speaking, an orphan, having +lost both her parents, and supported herself by keeping a small +school. My attachment was returned, and we had pledged our +vows, but my father, who could not reconcile himself to her lack +of fortune, forbade our marriage in the most positive +terms. He was wrong, for she was a fortune in +herself—amiable and accomplished. Oh! I cannot tell +you all she was—” and here the old man drew his hand +across his eyes. “By the death of my father, the only +obstacle to our happiness appeared to be removed. We +agreed, therefore, that our marriage should take place within the +course of a year; and I forthwith commenced enlarging my house +and getting my affairs in order. Having been left in the +easy circumstances which I have described, I determined to follow +no business, but to pass my life in a strictly domestic manner, +and to be very, very happy. Amongst other property derived +from my father were several horses, which I disposed of in this +neighbourhood, with the exception of two remarkably fine ones, +which I determined to take to the next fair at Horncastle, the +only place where I expected to be able to obtain what I +considered to be their full value. At length the time +arrived for the commencement of the fair, which was within three +months of the period which my beloved and myself had fixed upon +for the celebration of our nuptials. To the fair I went, a +couple of trusty men following me with the horses. I soon +found a purchaser for the animals, a portly, plausible person, of +about forty, dressed in a blue riding coat, brown top boots, and +leather breeches. There was a strange-looking urchin with +him, attired in nearly similar fashion, with a beam in one of his +eyes, who called him father. The man paid me for the +purchase in bank-notes—three fifty-pound notes for the two +horses. As we were about to take leave of each other, he +suddenly produced another fifty-pound note, inquiring whether I +could change it, complaining, at the same time, of the difficulty +of procuring change in the fair. As I happened to have +plenty of small money in my possession, and as I felt obliged to +him for having purchased my horses at what I considered to be a +good price, I informed him that I should be very happy to +accommodate him; so I changed him the note, and he, having taken +possession of the horses, went his way, and I myself returned +home.</p> +<p>“A month passed; during this time I paid away two of the +notes which I had received at Horncastle from the +dealer—one of them in my immediate neighbourhood, and the +other at a town about fifteen miles distant, to which I had +repaired for the purpose of purchasing some furniture. All +things seemed to be going on most prosperously, and I felt quite +happy, when one morning, as I was overlooking some workmen who +were employed about my house, I was accosted by a constable, who +informed me that he was sent to request my immediate appearance +before a neighbouring bench of magistrates. Concluding that +I was merely summoned on some unimportant business connected with +the neighbourhood, I felt no surprise, and forthwith departed in +company with the officer. The demeanour of the man upon the +way struck me as somewhat singular. I had frequently spoken +to him before, and had always found him civil and respectful, but +he was now reserved and sullen, and replied to two or three +questions which I put to him in anything but a courteous +manner. On arriving at the place where the magistrates were +sitting—an inn at a small town about two miles +distant—I found a more than usual number of people +assembled, who appeared to be conversing with considerable +eagerness. At sight of me they became silent, but crowded +after me as I followed the man into the magistrates’ +room. There I found the tradesman to whom I had paid the +note for the furniture at the town fifteen miles off in +attendance, accompanied by an agent of the Bank of England; the +former, it seems, had paid the note into a provincial bank, the +proprietors of which, discovering it to be a forgery, had +forthwith written up to the Bank of England, who had sent down +their agent to investigate the matter. A third individual +stood beside them—the person in my own immediate +neighbourhood to whom I had paid the second note; this, by some +means or other, before the coming down of the agent, had found +its way to the same provincial bank, and also being pronounced a +forgery, it had speedily been traced to the person to whom I had +paid it. It was owing to the apparition of this second note +that the agent had determined, without further inquiry, to cause +me to be summoned before the rural tribunal.</p> +<p>“In a few words the magistrates’ clerk gave me to +understand the state of the case. I was filled with +surprise and consternation. I knew myself to be perfectly +innocent of any fraudulent intention, but at the time of which I +am speaking it was a matter fraught with the greatest danger to +be mixed up, however innocently, with the passing of false +money. The law with respect to forgery was terribly severe, +and the innocent as well as the guilty occasionally +suffered. Of this I was not altogether ignorant; +unfortunately, however, in my transactions with the stranger, the +idea of false notes being offered to me, and my being brought +into trouble by means of them, never entered my mind. +Recovering myself a little, I stated that the notes in question +were two of three notes which I had received at Horncastle, for a +pair of horses, which it was well known I had carried +thither.</p> +<p>“Thereupon, I produced from my pocket-book the third +note, which was forthwith pronounced a forgery. I had +scarcely produced the third note, when I remembered the one which +I had changed for the Horncastle dealer, and with the remembrance +came the almost certain conviction that it was also a forgery; I +was tempted for a moment to produce it, and to explain the +circumstance—would to God I had done so!—but shame at +the idea of having been so wretchedly duped prevented me, and the +opportunity was lost. I must confess that the agent of the +bank behaved, upon the whole, in a very handsome manner; he said +that as it was quite evident that I had disposed of certain +horses at the fair, it was very probable that I might have +received the notes in question in exchange for them, and that he +was willing, as he had received a very excellent account of my +general conduct, to press the matter no farther, that is, +provided—” And here he stopped. +Thereupon, one of the three magistrates, who were present, asked +me whether I chanced to have any more of these spurious notes in +my possession. He certainly had a right to ask the +question; but there was something peculiar in his +tone-insinuating suspicion. It is certainly difficult to +judge of the motives which rule a person’s conduct, but I +cannot help imagining that he was somewhat influenced in his +behaviour on that occasion, which was anything but friendly, by +my having refused to sell him the horses at a price less than +that which I expected to get at the fair; be this as it may, the +question filled me with embarrassment, and I bitterly repented +not having at first been more explicit. Thereupon the +magistrate in the same kind of tone, demanded to see my +pocket-book. I knew that to demur would be useless, and +produced it, and therewith, amongst two or three small country +notes, appeared the fourth which I had received from the +Horncastle dealer. The agent took it up and examined it +with attention. ‘Well, is it a genuine note?’ +asked the magistrate. ‘I am sorry to say that it is +not,’ said the agent; ‘it is a forgery, like the +other three.’ The magistrate shrugged his shoulders, +as indeed did several people in the room. ‘A regular +dealer in forged notes,’ said a person close behind me; +‘who would have thought it?’</p> +<p>“Seeing matters begin to look so serious, I aroused +myself, and endeavoured to speak in my own behalf, giving a +candid account of the manner in which I became possessed of the +notes; but my explanation did not appear to meet much credit; the +magistrate, to whom I have in particular alluded, asked, why I +had not at once stated the fact of my having received a fourth +note; and the agent, though in a very quiet tone, observed that +he could not help thinking it somewhat strange that I should have +changed a note of so much value for a perfect stranger, even +supposing that he had purchased my horses, and had paid me their +value in hard cash; and I noticed that he laid particular +emphasis on the last words. I might have observed that I +was an inexperienced young man, who, meaning no harm myself, +suspected none in others, but I was confused, stunned, and my +tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of my mouth. The men +who had taken my horses to Horncastle, and for whom I had sent, +as they lived close at hand, now arrived, but the evidence which +they could give was anything but conclusive in my favour; they +had seen me in company with an individual at Horncastle, to whom, +by my orders, they had delivered certain horses, but they had +seen no part of the money transaction; the fellow, whether from +design or not, having taken me aside into a retired place, where +he had paid me the three spurious notes, and induced me to change +the fourth, which throughout the affair was what bore most +materially against me. How matters might have terminated I +do not know, I might have gone to prison, and I might have +been—just then, when I most needed a friend, and least +expected to find one, for though amongst those present there were +several who were my neighbours, and who had professed friendship +for me, none of them when they saw that I needed support and +encouragement, came forward to yield me any, but, on the +contrary, appeared by their looks to enjoy my terror and +confusion—just then a friend entered the room in the person +of the surgeon of the neighbourhood, the father of him who has +attended you; he was not on very intimate terms with me, but he +had occasionally spoken to me, and had attended my father in his +dying illness, and chancing to hear that I was in trouble, he now +hastened to assist me. After a short preamble, in which he +apologized to the bench for interfering, he begged to be informed +of the state of the case, whereupon the matter was laid before +him in all its details. He was not slow in taking a fair +view of it, and spoke well and eloquently in my +behalf—insisting on the improbability that a person of my +habits and position would be wilfully mixed up with a transaction +like that of which it appeared I was suspected—adding, that +as he was fully convinced of my innocence, he was ready to enter +into any surety with respect to my appearance at any time to +answer anything which might be laid to my charge. This last +observation had particular effect, and as he was a person +universally respected, both for his skill in his profession and +his general demeanour, people began to think that a person in +whom he took an interest could scarcely be concerned in anything +criminal, and though my friend the magistrate—I call him so +ironically—made two or three demurs, it was at last agreed +between him and his brethren of the bench, that, for the present, +I should be merely called upon to enter into my own recognizance +for the sum of two hundred pounds, to appear whenever it should +be deemed requisite to enter into any further investigation of +the matter.</p> +<p>“So I was permitted to depart from the tribunal of petty +justice without handcuffs, and uncollared by a constable; but +people looked coldly and suspiciously upon me. The first +thing I did was to hasten to the house of my beloved, in order to +inform her of every circumstance attending the transaction. +I found her, but how? A malicious female individual had +hurried to her with a distorted tale, to the effect that I had +been taken up as an utterer of forged notes; that an immense +number had been found in my possession; that I was already +committed, and that probably I should be executed. My +affianced one tenderly loved me, and her constitution was +delicate; fit succeeded fit; she broke a blood-vessel, and I +found her deluged in blood; the surgeon had been sent for; he +came and afforded her every possible relief. I was +distracted; he bade me have hope, but I observed he looked very +grave.</p> +<p>“By the skill of the surgeon, the poor girl was saved in +the first instance from the arms of death, and for a few weeks +she appeared to be rapidly recovering; by degrees, however, she +became melancholy; a worm preyed upon her spirit; a slow fever +took possession of her frame. I subsequently learned that +the same malicious female who had first carried to her an +exaggerated account of the affair, and who was a distant relative +of her own, frequently visited her, and did all in her power to +excite her fears with respect to its eventual termination. +Time passed on in a very wretched manner. Our friend the +surgeon showing to us both every mark of kindness and +attention.</p> +<p>“It was owing to this excellent man that my innocence +was eventually established. Having been called to a town on +the borders of Yorkshire to a medical consultation, he chanced to +be taking a glass of wine with the landlord of the inn at which +he stopped, when the waiter brought in a note to be changed, +saying ‘That the Quaker gentleman, who had been for some +days in the house, and was about to depart, had sent it to be +changed, in order that he might pay his bill.’ The +landlord took the note, and looked at it. ‘A +fifty-pound bill,’ said he; ‘I don’t like +changing bills of that amount, lest they should prove bad ones; +however, as it comes from a Quaker gentleman, I suppose it is all +right.’ The mention of a fifty-pound note aroused the +attention of my friend, and he requested to be permitted to look +at it; he had scarcely seen it, when he was convinced that it was +one of the same description as those which had brought me into +trouble, as it corresponded with them in two particular features, +which the agent of the bank had pointed out to him and others as +evidence of their spuriousness. My friend, without a +moment’s hesitation, informed the landlord that the note +was a bad one, expressing at the same time a great wish to see +the Quaker gentleman who wanted to have it changed. +‘That you can easily do,’ said the landlord, and +forthwith conducted him into the common room, where he saw a +respectable-looking man, dressed like a Quaker, and seemingly +about sixty years of age.</p> +<p>“My friend, after a short apology, showed him the note +which he held in his hand, stating that he had no doubt it was a +spurious one, and begged to be informed where he had taken it, +adding, that a particular friend of his was at present in +trouble, owing to his having taken similar notes from a stranger +at Horncastle; but that he hoped that he, the Quaker, could give +information, by means of which the guilty party, or parties, +could be arrested. At the mention of Horncastle, it +appeared to my friend that the Quaker gave a slight start. +At the conclusion of this speech, however, he answered, with +great tranquillity, that he had received it in the way of +business at ---, naming one of the principal towns in Yorkshire, +from a very respectable person, whose name he was perfectly +willing to communicate, and likewise his own, which he said was +James, and that he was a merchant residing at Liverpool; that he +would write to his friend at ---, requesting him to make +inquiries on the subject; that just at that moment he was in a +hurry to depart, having some particular business at a town about +ten miles off, to go to which he had bespoken a post-chaise of +the landlord; that with respect to the note, it was doubtless a +very disagreeable thing to have a suspicious one in his +possession, but that it would make little difference to him, as +he had plenty of other money, and thereupon he pulled out a +purse, containing various other notes, and some gold, observing, +‘that his only motive for wishing to change the other note +was a desire to be well provided with change;’ and finally, +that if they had any suspicion with respect to him, he was +perfectly willing to leave the note in their possession till he +should return, which he intended to do in about a +fortnight. There was so much plausibility in the speech of +the Quaker, and his appearance and behaviour were so perfectly +respectable, that my friend felt almost ashamed of the suspicion +which at first he had entertained of him, though, at the same +time, he felt an unaccountable unwillingness to let the man +depart without some further interrogation. The landlord, +however, who did not wish to disoblige one who had been, and +might probably be again, a profitable customer, declared that he +was perfectly satisfied; and that he had no wish to detain the +note, which he made no doubt the gentleman had received in the +way of business, and that as the matter concerned him alone, he +would leave it to him to make the necessary inquiries. +‘Just as you please, friend,’ said the Quaker, +pocketing the suspicious note, ‘I will now pay my +bill.’ Thereupon he discharged the bill with a +five-pound note, which he begged the landlord to inspect +carefully, and with two pieces of gold.</p> +<p>“The landlord had just taken the money, receipted the +bill, and was bowing to his customer, when the door opened, and a +lad, dressed in a kind of grey livery, appeared, and informed the +Quaker that the chaise was ready. ‘Is that boy your +servant?’ said the surgeon. ‘He is, +friend,’ said the Quaker. ‘Hast thou any reason +for asking me that question?’ ‘And has he been +long in your service?’ ‘Several years,’ +replied the Quaker, ‘I took him into my house out of +compassion, he being an orphan, but as the chaise is waiting, I +will bid thee farewell.’ ‘I am afraid I must +stop your journey for the present,’ said the surgeon; +‘that boy has exactly the same blemish in the eye which a +boy had who was in company with the man at Horncastle, from whom +my friend received the forged notes, and who there passed for his +son.’ ‘I know nothing about that,’ said +the Quaker, ‘but I am determined to be detained here no +longer, after the satisfactory account which I have given as to +the note’s coming into my possession.’ He then +attempted to leave the room, but my friend detained him, a +struggle ensued, during which a wig which the Quaker wore fell +off, whereupon he instantly appeared to lose some twenty years of +his age. ‘Knock the fellow down, father,’ said +the boy, ‘I’ll help you.’</p> +<p>“And, forsooth, the pretended Quaker took the +boy’s advice, and knocked my friend down in a +twinkling. The landlord, however, and waiter, seeing how +matters stood, instantly laid hold of him; but there can be no +doubt that he would have escaped from the whole three, had not +certain guests who were in the house, hearing the noise, rushed +in, and helped to secure him. The boy was true to his word, +assisting him to the best of his ability, flinging himself +between the legs of his father’s assailants, causing +several of them to stumble and fall. At length, the fellow +was secured, and led before a magistrate; the boy, to whom he was +heard to say something which nobody understood, and to whom, +after the man’s capture, no one paid much attention, was no +more seen.</p> +<p>“The rest, as far as this man was concerned, may be told +in a few words; nothing to criminate him was found on his person, +but on his baggage being examined, a quantity of spurious notes +were discovered. Much of his hardihood now forsook him, and +in the hope of saving his life he made some very important +disclosures; amongst other things, he confessed that it was he +who had given me the notes in exchange for the horses, and also +the note to be changed. He was subsequently tried on two +indictments, in the second of which I appeared against him. +He was condemned to die; but, in consideration of the disclosures +he had made, his sentence was commuted to perpetual +transportation.</p> +<p>“My innocence was thus perfectly established before the +eyes of the world, and all my friends hastened to congratulate +me. There was one who congratulated me more than all the +rest—it was my beloved one, but—but—she was +dying—”</p> +<p>Here the old man drew his hand before his eyes, and remained +for some time without speaking; at length he removed his hand, +and commenced again with a broken voice: “You will pardon +me if I hurry over this part of my story, I am unable to dwell +upon it. How dwell upon a period when I saw my only earthly +treasure pine away gradually day by day, and knew that nothing +could save her! She saw my agony, and did all she could to +console me, saying that she was herself quite resigned. A +little time before her death she expressed a wish that we should +be united. I was too happy to comply with her +request. We were united, I brought her to this house, +where, in less than a week, she expired in my arms.”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIV</h2> +<p>The Old Man’s Story continued—Misery in the +Head—The Strange Marks—Tea-dealer from +London—Difficulties of the Chinese Language.</p> +<p>After another pause the old man once more resumed his +narration:—“If ever there was a man perfectly +miserable it was myself, after the loss of that cherished +woman. I sat solitary in the house, in which I had hoped in +her company to realize the choicest earthly happiness, a prey to +the bitterest reflections; many people visited, and endeavoured +to console me—amongst them was the clergyman of the parish, +who begged me to be resigned, and told me that it was good to be +afflicted. I bowed my head, but I could not help thinking +how easy it must be for those who feel no affliction, to bid +others to be resigned, and to talk of the benefit resulting from +sorrow; perhaps I should have paid more attention to his +discourse than I did, provided he had been a person for whom it +was possible to entertain much respect, but his own heart was +known to be set on the things of this world.</p> +<p>“Within a little time he had an opportunity, in his own +case, of practising resignation, and of realizing the benefit of +being afflicted. A merchant, to whom he had entrusted all +his fortune, in the hope of a large interest, became suddenly a +bankrupt, with scarcely any assets. I will not say that it +was owing to this misfortune that the divine died in less than a +month after its occurrence, but such was the fact. Amongst +those who most frequently visited me was my friend the surgeon; +he did not confine himself to the common topics of consolation, +but endeavoured to impress upon me the necessity of rousing +myself, advising me to occupy my mind with some pursuit, +particularly recommending agriculture; but agriculture possessed +no interest for me, nor, indeed, any pursuit within my reach; my +hopes of happiness had been blighted, and what cared I for +anything? so at last he thought it best to leave me to myself, +hoping that time would bring with it consolation; and I remained +solitary in my house, waited upon by a male and a female +servant. Oh, what dreary moments I passed! My only +amusement—and it was a sad one—was to look at the +things which once belonged to my beloved, and which were now in +my possession. Oh, how fondly would I dwell upon +them! There were some books; I cared not for books, but +these had belonged to my beloved. Oh, how fondly did I +dwell on them! Then there was her hat and bonnet—oh, +me, how fondly did I gaze upon them! and after looking at her +things for hours, I would sit and ruminate on the happiness I had +lost. How I execrated the moment I had gone to the fair to +sell horses! ‘Would that I had never been to +Horncastle to sell horses!’ I would say; ‘I might at +this moment have been enjoying the company of my beloved, leading +a happy, quiet, easy life, but for that fatal expedition;’ +that thought worked on my brain, till my brain seemed to turn +round.</p> +<p>“One day I sat at the breakfast-table gazing vacantly +around me, my mind was in a state of inexpressible misery; there +was a whirl in my brain, probably like that which people feel who +are rapidly going mad; this increased to such a degree that I +felt giddiness coming upon me. To abate this feeling I no +longer permitted my eyes to wander about, but fixed them upon an +object on the table, and continued gazing at it for several +minutes without knowing what it was; at length, the misery in my +head was somewhat stilled, my lips moved, and I heard myself +saying, ‘What odd marks!’ I had fastened my +eyes on the side of a teapot, and by keeping them fixed upon it, +had become aware of a fact that had escaped my notice +before—namely, that there were marks upon it. I kept +my eyes fixed upon them, and repeated at intervals, ‘What +strange marks!’—for I thought that looking upon the +marks tended to abate the whirl in my head: I kept tracing the +marks one after the other, and I observed that though they all +bore a general resemblance to each other, they were all to a +certain extent different. The smallest portion possible of +curious interest had been awakened within me, and, at last, I +asked myself, within my own mind, ‘What motive could induce +people to put such odd marks on their crockery? they were not +pictures, they were not letters; what motive could people have +for putting them there?’ At last I removed my eyes +from the teapot, and thought for a few moments about the marks; +presently, however, I felt the whirl returning; the marks became +almost effaced from my mind, and I was beginning to revert to my +miserable ruminations, when suddenly methought I heard a voice +say, ‘The marks! the marks! cling to the marks? +or—’ So I fixed my eyes again upon the marks, +inspecting them more attentively, if possible, than I had done +before, and, at last, I came to the conclusion that they were not +capricious or fanciful marks, but were arranged systematically; +when I had gazed at them for a considerable time, I turned the +teapot round, and on the other side I observed marks of a similar +kind, which I soon discovered were identical with the ones I had +been observing. All the marks were something alike, but all +somewhat different, and on comparing them with each other, I was +struck with the frequent occurrence of a mark crossing an upright +line, or projecting from it, now on the right, now on the left +side; and I said to myself, ‘Why does this mark sometimes +cross the upright line, and sometimes project?’ and the +more I thought on the matter, the less did I feel of the misery +in my head.</p> +<p>“The things were at length removed, and I sat, as I had +for some time past been wont to sit after my meals, silent and +motionless; but in the present instance my mind was not entirely +abandoned to the one mournful idea which had so long distressed +it. It was, to a certain extent, occupied with the marks on +the teapot; it is true that the mournful idea strove hard with +the marks on the teapot for the mastery in my mind, and at last +the painful idea drove the marks of the teapot out; they, +however, would occasionally return and flit across my mind for a +moment or two, and their coming was like a momentary relief from +intense pain. I thought once or twice that I would have the +teapot placed before me, that I might examine the marks at +leisure, but I considered that it would be as well to defer the +re-examination of the marks till the next morning; at that time I +did not take tea of an evening. By deferring the +examination thus, I had something to look forward to on the next +morning. The day was a melancholy one, but it certainly was +more tolerable to me than any of the others had been since the +death of my beloved. As I lay awake that night I +occasionally thought of the marks, and in my sleep methought I +saw them upon the teapot vividly before me. On the morrow, +I examined the marks again; how singular they looked! +Surely they must mean something, and if so, what could they mean? +and at last I thought within myself whether it would be possible +for me to make out what they meant: that day I felt more relief +than on the preceding one, and towards night I walked a little +about.</p> +<p>“In about a week’s time I received a visit from my +friend the surgeon; after a little discourse, he told me that he +perceived I was better than when he had last seen me, and asked +me what I had been about; I told him that I had been principally +occupied in considering certain marks which I had found on a +teapot, and wondering what they could mean; he smiled at first, +but instantly assuming a serious look, he asked to see the +teapot. I produced it, and after having surveyed the marks +with attention, he observed that they were highly curious, and +also wondered what they meant. ‘I strongly advise +you,’ said he, ‘to attempt to make them out, and also +to take moderate exercise, and to see after your +concerns.’ I followed his advice; every morning I +studied the marks on the teapot, and in the course of the day +took moderate exercise, and attended to little domestic matters, +as became the master of a house.</p> +<p>“I subsequently learned that the surgeon, in advising me +to study the marks, and endeavour to make out their meaning, +merely hoped that by means of them my mind might by degrees be +diverted from the mournful idea on which I had so long +brooded. He was a man well skilled in his profession, but +had read and thought very little on matters unconnected with +it. He had no idea that the marks had any particular +signification, or were anything else but common and fortuitous +ones. That I became at all acquainted with their nature was +owing to a ludicrous circumstance which I will now relate.</p> +<p>“One day, chancing to be at a neighbouring town, I was +struck with the appearance of a shop recently established. +It had an immense bow-window, and every part of it, to which a +brush could be applied, was painted in a gaudy flaming +style. Large bowls of green and black tea were placed upon +certain chests, which stood at the window. I stopped to +look at them, such a display, whatever it may be at the present +time, being, at the period of which I am speaking, quite uncommon +in a country town. The tea, whether black or green, was +very shining and inviting, and the bowls, of which there were +three, standing on as many chests, were very grand and foreign +looking. Two of these were white, with figures and trees +painted upon them in blue; the other, which was the middlemost, +had neither trees nor figures upon it, but, as I looked through +the window, appeared to have on its sides the very same kind of +marks which I had observed on the teapot at home; there were also +marks on the tea-chests, somewhat similar, but much larger, and, +apparently, not executed with so much care. ‘Best +teas direct from China,’ said a voice close to my side; and +looking round I saw a youngish man, with a frizzled head, flat +face, and an immensely wide mouth, standing in his shirt-sleeves +by the door. ‘Direct from China,’ said he; +‘perhaps you will do me the favour to walk in and scent +them?’ ‘I do not want any tea,’ said I; +‘I was only standing at the window examining those marks on +the bowl and the chests. I have observed similar ones on a +teapot at home.’ ‘Pray walk in, sir,’ +said the young fellow, extending his mouth till it reached nearly +from ear to ear; ‘pray walk in, and I shall be happy to +give you any information respecting the manners and customs of +the Chinese in my power.’ Thereupon I followed him +into his shop, where he began to harangue on the manners, +customs, and peculiarities of the Chinese, especially their +manner of preparing tea, not forgetting to tell me that the only +genuine Chinese tea ever imported into England was to be found in +his shop. ‘With respect to those marks,’ said +he, ‘on the bowl and chests, they are nothing more nor less +than Chinese writing expressing something, though what I +can’t exactly tell you. Allow me to sell you this +pound of tea,’ he added, showing me a paper parcel. +‘On the envelope there is a printed account of the Chinese +system of writing, extracted from authors of the most established +reputation. These things I print, principally with the hope +of, in some degree, removing the worse than Gothic ignorance +prevalent amongst natives of these parts. I am from London +myself. With respect to all that relates to the Chinese +real imperial tea, I assure you sir, that—’ +Well, to make short of what you doubtless consider a very +tiresome story, I purchased the tea and carried it home. +The tea proved imperially bad, but the paper envelope really +contained some information on the Chinese language and writing, +amounting to about as much as you gained from me the other +day. On learning that the marks on the teapot expressed +words, I felt my interest with respect to them considerably +increased, and returned to the task of inspecting them with +greater zeal than before, hoping, by continually looking at them, +to be able eventually to understand their meaning, in which hope +you may easily believe I was disappointed, though my desire to +understand what they represented continued on the increase. +In this dilemma I determined to apply again to the shopkeeper +from whom I bought the tea. I found him in rather low +spirits, his shirt-sleeves were soiled, and his hair was out of +curl. On my inquiring how he got on, he informed me that he +intended speedily to leave, having received little or no +encouragement, the people, in their Gothic ignorance, preferring +to deal with an old-fashioned shopkeeper over the way, who, so +far from possessing any acquaintance with the polity and +institutions of the Chinese, did not, he believed, know that tea +came from China. ‘You are come for some more, I +suppose?’ said he. On receiving an answer in the +negative he looked somewhat blank, but when I added that I came +to consult with him as to the means which I must take in order to +acquire the Chinese language he brightened up. ‘You +must get a grammar,’ said he, rubbing his hands. +‘Have you not one?’ said I. ‘No,’ +he replied, ‘but any bookseller can procure you +one.’ As I was taking my departure, he told me that +as he was about to leave the neighbourhood, the bowl at the +window, which bore the inscription, besides some other pieces of +porcelain of a similar description, were at my service, provided +I chose to purchase them. I consented, and two or three +days afterwards took from off his hands all the china in his +possession which bore the inscriptions, paying what he +demanded. Had I waited till the sale of his effects, which +occurred within a few weeks, I could probably have procured it +for a fifth part of the sum which I paid, the other pieces +realizing very little. I did not, however, grudge the poor +fellow what he got from me, as I considered myself to be somewhat +in his debt for the information he had afforded me.</p> +<p>“As for the rest of my story, it may be briefly +told. I followed the advice of the shopkeeper, and applied +to a bookseller who wrote to his correspondent in London. +After a long interval, I was informed that if I wished to learn +Chinese, I must do so through the medium of French, there being +neither Chinese grammar nor dictionary in our language. I +was at first very much disheartened. I determined, however, +at last to gratify my desire of learning Chinese, even at the +expense of learning French. I procured the books, and in +order to qualify myself to turn them to account, took lessons in +French from a little Swiss, the usher of a neighbouring +boarding-school. I was very stupid in acquiring French; +perseverance, however, enabled me to acquire a knowledge +sufficient for the object I had in view. In about two years +I began to study Chinese by myself, through the medium of the +French.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “and how did you get on with +the study of the Chinese?”</p> +<p>And then the old man proceeded to inform me how he got on with +the study of Chinese, enumerated all the difficulties he had had +to encounter; dilating upon his frequent despondency of mind, and +occasionally his utter despair of ever mastering Chinese. +He told me that more than once he had determined upon giving up +the study, but when the misery in his head forthwith returned, to +escape from which he had as often resumed it. It appeared, +however, that ten years elapsed before he was able to use ten of +the two hundred and fourteen keys, which serve to undo the locks +of Chinese writing.</p> +<p>“And are you able at present to use the entire +number?” I demanded.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the old man; “I can at present +use the whole number. I know the key for every particular +lock, though I frequently find the wards unwilling to give +way.”</p> +<p>“Has nothing particular occurred to you,” said I, +“during the time that you have been prosecuting your +studies?”</p> +<p>“During the whole time in which I have been engaged in +these studies,” said the old man, “only one +circumstance has occurred which requires any particular +mention—the death of my old friend the surgeon—who +was carried off suddenly by a fit of apoplexy. His death +was a great shock to me, and for a time interrupted my +studies. His son, however, who succeeded him, was very kind +to me, and, in some degree, supplied his father’s place; +and I gradually returned to my Chinese locks and keys.”</p> +<p>“And in applying keys to the Chinese locks you employ +your time?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the old man, “in making out the +inscriptions on the various pieces of porcelain, which I have at +different times procured, I pass my time. The first +inscription which I translated was that on the teapot of my +beloved.”</p> +<p>“And how many other pieces of porcelain may you have at +present in your possession?”</p> +<p>“About fifteen hundred.”</p> +<p>“And how did you obtain them?” I demanded.</p> +<p>“Without much labour,” said the old man, “in +the neighbouring towns and villages—chiefly at +auctions—of which, about twenty years ago, there were many +in these parts.”</p> +<p>“And may I ask your reasons for confining your studies +entirely to the crockery literature of China, when you have all +the rest at your disposal?”</p> +<p>“The inscriptions enable me to pass my time,” said +the old man; “what more would the whole literature of China +do?”</p> +<p>“And from these inscriptions,” said I, “what +a book it is in your power to make, whenever so disposed. +‘Translations from the crockery literature of +China.’ Such a book would be sure to take; even +glorious John himself would not disdain to publish +it.” The old man smiled. “I have no +desire for literary distinction,” said he; “no +ambition. My original wish was to pass my life in easy, +quiet obscurity, with her whom I loved. I was disappointed +in my wish; she was removed, who constituted my only felicity in +this life; desolation came to my heart, and misery to my +head. To escape from the latter I had recourse to +Chinese. By degrees the misery left my head, but the +desolation of the heart yet remains.”</p> +<p>“Be of good cheer,” said I; “through the +instrumentality of this affliction you have learnt Chinese, and, +in so doing, learnt to practise the duties of hospitality. +Who but a man who could read Runes on a teapot, would have +received an unfortunate wayfarer as you have received +me?”</p> +<p>“Well,” said the old man, “let us hope that +all is for the best. I am by nature indolent, and, but for +this affliction, should, perhaps, have hardly taken the trouble +to do my duty to my fellow-creatures. I am very, very +indolent,” said he, slightly glancing towards the clock; +“therefore let us hope that all is for the best; but, oh! +these trials, they are very hard to bear.”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXV</h2> +<p>The Leave-taking—Spirit of the Hearth—What’s +o’Clock?</p> +<p>The next morning, having breakfasted with my old friend, I +went into the stable to make the necessary preparations for my +departure; there, with the assistance of a stable lad, I cleaned +and caparisoned my horse, and then, returning into the house, I +made the old female attendant such a present as I deemed would be +some compensation for the trouble I had caused. Hearing +that the old gentleman was in his study, I repaired to him. +“I am come to take leave of you,” said I, “and +to thank you for all the hospitality which I have received at +your hands.” The eyes of the old man were fixed +steadfastly on the inscription which I had found him studying on +a former occasion. “At length,” he murmured to +himself, “I have it—I think I have it;” and +then, looking at me, he said, “So you are about to +depart?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said I, “my horse will be at the +front door in a few minutes; I am glad, however, before I go, to +find that you have mastered the inscription.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the old man, “I believe I have +mastered it; it seems to consist of some verses relating to the +worship of the Spirit of the Hearth.”</p> +<p>“What is the Spirit of the Hearth?” said I.</p> +<p>“One of the many demons which the Chinese +worship,” said the old man; “they do not worship one +God, but many.” And then the old man told me a great +many highly-interesting particulars respecting the demon worship +of the Chinese.</p> +<p>After the lapse of at least half an hour I said, “I must +not linger here any longer, however willing. Horncastle is +distant, and I wish to be there to-night. Pray can you +inform me what’s o’clock?”</p> +<p>The old man, rising, looked towards the clock which hung on +the side of the room at his left hand, on the farther side of the +table at which he was seated.</p> +<p>“I am rather short-sighted,” said I, “and +cannot distinguish the number, at that distance.”</p> +<p>“It is ten o’clock,” said the old man; +“I believe somewhat past.”</p> +<p>“A quarter, perhaps?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the old man “a quarter +or—”</p> +<p>“Or?”</p> +<p>“Seven minutes, or ten minutes past ten.”</p> +<p>“I do not understand you.”</p> +<p>“Why, to tell you the truth,” said the old man, +with a smile, “there is one thing to the knowledge of which +I could never exactly attain.”</p> +<p>“Do you mean to say,” said I, “that you do +not know what’s o’clock?”</p> +<p>“I can give a guess,” said the old man, “to +within a few minutes.”</p> +<p>“But you cannot tell the exact moment?”</p> +<p>“No,” said the old man.</p> +<p>“In the name of wonder,” said I, “with that +thing there on the wall continually ticking in your ear, how +comes it that you do not know what’s +o’clock?”</p> +<p>“Why,” said the old man, “I have contented +myself with giving a tolerably good guess; to do more would have +been too great trouble.”</p> +<p>“But you have learnt Chinese,” said I.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the old man, “I have learnt +Chinese.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “I really would counsel you +to learn to know what’s o’clock as soon as +possible. Consider what a sad thing it would be to go out +of the world not knowing what’s o’clock. A +millionth part of the trouble required to learn Chinese would, if +employed, infallibly teach you to know what’s +o’clock.”</p> +<p>“I had a motive for learning Chinese,” said the +old man, “the hope of appeasing the misery in my +head. With respect to not knowing what’s +o’clock, I cannot see anything particularly sad in the +matter. A man may get through the world very creditably +without knowing what’s o’clock. Yet, upon the +whole, it is no bad thing to know what’s +o’clock—you, of course, do? It would be too +good a joke if two people were to be together, one knowing +Armenian and the other Chinese, and neither knowing what’s +o’clock. I’ll now see you off.”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVI</h2> +<p>Arrival at Horncastle—The Inn and Ostlers—The +Garret—Figure of a Man with a Candle.</p> +<p>Leaving the house of the old man who knew Chinese, but could +not tell what was o’clock, I wended my way to Horncastle, +which I reached in the evening of the same day, without having +met any adventure on the way worthy of being marked down in this +very remarkable history.</p> +<p>The town was a small one, seemingly ancient, and was crowded +with people and horses. I proceeded, without delay, to the +inn to which my friend the surgeon had directed me. +“It is of no use coming here,” said two or three +ostlers, as I entered the yard—“all full—no +room whatever;” whilst one added in an undertone, +“That ere a’n’t a bad-looking +horse.” “I want to see the master of this +inn,” said I, as I dismounted from the horse. +“See the master,” said an ostler—the same who +had paid the negative kind of compliment to the +horse—“a likely thing, truly; my master is drinking +wine with some of the grand gentry, and can’t be disturbed +for the sake of the like of you.” “I bring a +letter to him,” said I, pulling out the surgeon’s +epistle. “I wish you would deliver it to him,” +I added, offering a half-crown. “Oh, it’s you, +is it?” said the ostler, taking the letter and the +half-crown; “my master will be right glad to see you; why, +you ha’n’t been here for many a year; I’ll +carry the note to him at once.” And with these words +he hurried into the house. “That’s a nice +horse, young man,” said another ostler, “what will +you take for it?” to which interrogation I made no +answer. “If you wish to sell him,” said the +ostler, coming up to me, and winking knowingly, “I think I +and my partners might offer you a summut under seventy +pounds;” to which kind and half-insinuated offer I made no +reply, save by winking in the same kind of knowing manner in +which I observed him wink. “Rather leary!” said +a third ostler. “Well, young man, perhaps you will +drink to-night with me and my partners, when we can talk the +matter over.” Before I had time to answer, the +landlord, a well-dressed, good-looking man, made his appearance +with the ostler; he bore the letter in his hand. Without +glancing at me, he betook himself at once to consider the horse, +going round him, and observing every point with the utmost +minuteness. At last, having gone round the horse three +times, he stopped beside me, and keeping his eyes on the horse, +bent his head towards his right shoulder. “That horse +is worth some money,” said he, turning towards me suddenly, +and slightly touching me on the arm with the letter which he held +in his hand; to which observation I made no reply, save by +bending my head towards the right shoulder as I had seen him +do. “The young man is going to talk to me and my +partners about it to-night,” said the ostler who had +expressed an opinion that he and his friends might offer me +somewhat under seventy pounds for the animal. +“Pooh!” said the landlord, “the young man knows +what he is about; in the meantime lead the horse to the reserved +stall, and see well after him. My friend,” said he, +taking me aside after the ostler had led the animal away, +“recommends you to me in the strongest manner, on which +account alone I take you and your horse in. I need not +advise you not to be taken in, as I should say, by your look, +that you are tolerably awake; but there are queer hands at +Horncastle at this time, and those fellows of mine, you +understand me—; but I have a great deal to do at present, +so you must excuse me.” And thereupon went into the +house.</p> +<p>That same evening I was engaged at least two hours in the +stable, in rubbing the horse down, and preparing him for the +exhibition which I intended he should make in the fair on the +following day. The ostler, to whom I had given the +half-crown, occasionally assisted me, though he was too much +occupied by the horses of other guests to devote any length of +time to the service of mine; he more than once repeated to me his +firm conviction that himself and partners could afford to offer +me summut for the horse; and at a later hour when, in compliance +with his invitation, I took a glass of summut with himself and +partners, in a little room surrounded with corn-chests, on which +we sat, both himself and partners endeavoured to impress upon me, +chiefly by means of nods and winks, their conviction that they +could afford to give me summut for the horse, provided I were +disposed to sell him; in return for which intimation, with as +many nods and winks as they had all collectively used, I +endeavoured to impress upon them my conviction that I could get +summut handsomer in the fair than they might be disposed to offer +me, seeing as how—which how I followed by a wink and a nod, +which they seemed perfectly to understand, one or two of them +declaring that if the case was so, it made a great deal of +difference, and that they did not wish to be any hindrance to me, +more particularly as it was quite clear I had been an ostler like +themselves.</p> +<p>It was late at night when I began to think of retiring to +rest. On inquiring if there was any place in which I could +sleep, I was informed that there was a bed at my service, +provided I chose to sleep in a two-bedded room, one of the beds +of which was engaged by another gentleman. I expressed my +satisfaction at this arrangement, and was conducted by a +maid-servant up many pairs of stairs to a garret, in which were +two small beds, in one of which she gave me to understand another +gentleman slept; he had, however, not yet retired to rest; I +asked who he was, but the maid-servant could give me no +information about him, save that he was a highly respectable +gentleman, and a friend of her master’s. Presently, +bidding me good night, she left me with a candle; and I, having +undressed myself and extinguished the light, went to bed. +Notwithstanding the noises which sounded from every part of the +house, I was not slow in falling asleep, being thoroughly +tired. I know not how long I might have been in bed, +perhaps two hours, when I was partially awakened by a light +shining upon my face, whereupon, unclosing my eyes, I perceived +the figure of a man, with a candle in one hand, staring at my +face, whilst with the other hand, he held back the curtain of the +bed. As I have said before, I was only partially awakened, +my power of conception was consequently very confused; it +appeared to me, however, that the man was dressed in a green +coat; that he had curly brown or black hair, and that there was +something peculiar in his look. Just as I was beginning to +recollect myself, the curtain dropped, and I heard, or thought I +heard, a voice say, “Don’t know the +cove.” Then there was a rustling like a person +undressing, whereupon being satisfied that it was my +fellow-lodger, I dropped asleep, but was awakened again by a kind +of heavy plunge upon the other bed, which caused it to rock and +creak, when I observed that the light had been extinguished, +probably blown out, if I might judge from a rather disagreeable +smell of burnt wick which remained in the room, and which kept me +awake till I heard my companion breathing hard, when, turning on +the other side, I was again once more speedily in the arms of +slumber.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVII</h2> +<p>Horncastle Fair.</p> +<p>It had been my intention to be up and doing early on the +following morning, but my slumbers proved so profound, that I did +not wake until about eight; on arising, I again found myself the +sole occupant of the apartment, my more alert companion having +probably risen at a much earlier hour. Having dressed +myself, I descended, and going to the stable, found my horse +under the hands of my friend the ostler, who was carefully +rubbing him down. “There a’n’t a better +horse in the fair,” said he to me, “and as you are +one of us, and appear to be all right, I’ll give you a +piece of advice—don’t take less than a hundred and +fifty for him; if you mind your hits, you may get it, for I have +known two hundred given in this fair for one no better, if so +good.” “Well,” said I, “thank you +for your advice, which I will take, and, if successful, will give +you ‘summut’ handsome.” “Thank +you,” said the ostler; “and now let me ask whether +you are up to all the ways of this here place?” +“I have never been here before,” said I, “but I +have a pair of tolerably sharp eyes in my head.” +“That I see you have,” said the ostler, “but +many a body, with as sharp a pair of eyes as yourn, has lost his +horse in this fair, for want of having been here before, +therefore,” said he, “I’ll give you a caution +or two.” Thereupon the ostler proceeded to give me at +least half a dozen cautions, only two of which I shall relate to +the reader:—the first, not to stop to listen to what any +chance customer might have to say; and the last—the one on +which he appeared to lay most stress—by no manner of means +to permit a Yorkshireman to get up into the saddle, +“for,” said he, “if you do, it is three to one +that he rides off with the horse; he can’t help it; trust a +cat amongst cream, but never trust a Yorkshireman on the saddle +of a good horse; by-the-by,” he continued, “that +saddle of yours is not a particularly good one, no more is the +bridle. I tell you what, as you seem a decent kind of a +young chap, I’ll lend you a saddle and bridle of my +master’s, almost bran new; he won’t object, I know, +as you are a friend of his, only you must not forget your promise +to come down with summut handsome after you have sold the +animal.”</p> +<p>After a slight breakfast I mounted the horse, which, decked +out in his borrowed finery, really looked better by a large sum +of money than on any former occasion. Making my way out of +the yard of the inn, I was instantly in the principal street of +the town, up and down which an immense number of horses were +being exhibited, some led, and others with riders. “A +wonderful small quantity of good horses in the fair this +time!” I heard a stout jockey-looking individual say, who +was staring up the street with his side towards me. +“Halloo, young fellow!” said he, a few moments after +I had passed, “whose horse is that? Stop! I +want to look at him!” Though confident that he was +addressing himself to me, I took no notice, remembering the +advice of the ostler, and proceeded up the street. My horse +possessed a good walking step; but walking, as the reader knows, +was not his best pace, which was the long trot, at which I could +not well exercise him in the street, on account of the crowd of +men and animals; however, as he walked along, I could easily +perceive that he attracted no slight attention amongst those who, +by their jockey dress and general appearance, I imagined to be +connoisseurs; I heard various calls to stop, to none of which I +paid the slightest attention. In a few minutes I found +myself out of the town, when, turning round for the purpose of +returning, I found I had been followed by several of the +connoisseur-looking individuals, whom I had observed in the +fair. “Now would be the time for a display,” +thought I; and looking around me I observed two five-barred +gates, one on each side of the road, and fronting each +other. Turning my horse’s head to one, I pressed my +heels to his sides, loosened the reins, and gave an encouraging +cry, whereupon the animal cleared the gate in a twinkling. +Before he had advanced ten yards in the field to which the gate +opened, I had turned him round, and again giving him cry and +rein, I caused him to leap back again into the road, and still +allowing him head, I made him leap the other gate; and forthwith +turning him round, I caused him to leap once more into the road, +where he stood proudly tossing his head, as much as to say, +“What more?” “A fine horse! a capital +horse!” said several of the connoisseurs. “What +do you ask for him?” “Too much for any of you +to pay,” said I. “A horse like this is intended +for other kind of customers than any of you.” +“How do you know that?” said one; the very same +person whom I had heard complaining in the street of the paucity +of good horses in the fair. “Come, let us know what +you ask for him?” “A hundred and fifty +pounds!” said I; “neither more nor less.” +“Do you call that a great price?” said the man. +“Why, I thought you would have asked double that +amount! You do yourself injustice, young man.” +“Perhaps I do,” said I, “but that’s my +affair; I do not choose to take more.” “I wish +you would let me get into the saddle,” said the man; +“the horse knows you, and therefore shows to more +advantage; but I should like to see how he would move under me, +who am a stranger. Will you let me get into the saddle, +young man?” “No,” said I; “I will +not let you get into the saddle.” “Why +not?” said the man. “Lest you should be a +Yorkshireman,” said I; “and should run away with the +horse.” “Yorkshire?” said the man; +“I am from Suffolk; silly Suffolk—so you need not be +afraid of my running away with the horse.” “Oh! +if that’s the case,” said I, “I should be +afraid that the horse would run away with you; so I will by no +means let you mount.” “Will you let me look in +his mouth?” said the man. “If you +please,” said I; “but I tell you, he’s apt to +bite.” “He can scarcely be a worse bite than +his master,” said the man, looking into the horse’s +mouth; “he’s four off. I say, young man, will +you warrant this horse?” “No,” said I; +“I never warrant horses; the horses that I ride can always +warrant themselves.” “I wish you would let me +speak a word to you,” said he. “Just come +aside. It’s a nice horse,” said he, in a half +whisper, after I had ridden a few paces aside with him. +“It’s a nice horse,” said he, placing his hand +upon the pommel of the saddle, and looking up in my face, +“and I think I can find you a customer. If you would +take a hundred, I think my lord would purchase it, for he has +sent me about the fair to look him up a horse, by which he could +hope to make an honest penny.” “Well,” +said I, “and could he not make an honest penny, and yet +give me the price I ask?” “Why,” said the +go-between, “a hundred and fifty pounds is as much as the +animal is worth, or nearly so; and my lord, do you +see—” “I see no reason at all,” +said I, “why I should sell the animal for less than he is +worth, in order that his lordship may be benefited by him; so +that if his lordship wants to make an honest penny, he must find +some person who would consider the disadvantage of selling him a +horse for less than it is worth, as counterbalanced by the honour +of dealing with a lord, which I should never do; but I +can’t be wasting my time here. I am going back to the +---, where, if you, or any person, are desirous of purchasing the +horse, you must come within the next half hour, or I shall +probably not feel disposed to sell him at all.” +“Another word, young man,” said the jockey; but +without staying to hear what he had to say, I put the horse to +his best trot, and re-entering the town, and threading my way as +well as I could through the press, I returned to the yard of the +inn, where, dismounting, I stood still, holding the horse by the +bridle.</p> +<p>I had been standing in this manner about five minutes, when I +saw the jockey enter the yard, accompanied by another +individual. They advanced directly towards me. +“Here is my lord come to look at the horse, young +man,” said the jockey. My lord, as the jockey called +him, was a tall figure, of about five-and-thirty. He had on +his head a hat somewhat rusty, and on his back a surtout of blue +rather the worse for wear. His forehead, if not high, was +exceedingly narrow; his eyes were brown, with a rat-like glare in +them; the nose was rather long, and the mouth very wide; the +cheek-bones high, and the cheeks, as to hue and consistency, +exhibiting very much the appearance of a withered red apple; +there was a gaunt expression of hunger in the whole +countenance. He had scarcely glanced at the horse, when +drawing in his cheeks, he thrust out his lips very much after the +manner of a baboon, when he sees a piece of sugar held out +towards him. “Is this horse yours?” said he, +suddenly turning towards me, with a kind of smirk. +“It’s my horse,” said I; “are you the +person who wishes to make an honest penny by it?” +“How!” said he, drawing up his head with a very +consequential look, and speaking with a very haughty tone, +“what do you mean?” We looked at each other +full in the face; after a few moments, the muscles of the mouth +of him of the hungry look began to move violently, the face was +puckered into innumerable wrinkles, and the eyes became half +closed. “Well,” said I, “have you ever +seen me before? I suppose you are asking yourself that +question.” “Excuse me, sir,” said he, +dropping his lofty look, and speaking in a very subdued and civil +tone, “I have never had the honour of seeing you before, +that is”—said he, slightly glancing at me again, and +again moving the muscles of his mouth, “no, I have never +seen you before,” he added, making me a bow. “I +have never had that pleasure; my business with you, at present, +is to inquire the lowest price you are willing to take for this +horse. My agent here informs me that you ask one hundred +and fifty pounds, which I cannot think of giving—the horse +is a showy horse, but look, my dear sir, he has a defect here, +and there in his near fore leg I observe something which looks +very like a splint—yes, upon my credit,” said he, +touching the animal, “he has a splint, or something which +will end in one. A hundred and fifty pounds, sir! what +could have induced you ever to ask anything like that for this +animal? I protest that, in my time, I have frequently +bought a better for— Who are you, sir? I am in treaty +for this horse,” said he to a man who had come up whilst he +was talking, and was now looking into the horse’s +mouth. “Who am I?” said the man, still looking +into the horse’s mouth; “who am I? his lordship asks +me. Ah, I see, close on five,” said he, releasing the +horse’s jaws, and looking at me. This new comer was a +thin, wiry-made individual, with wiry curling brown hair; his +face was dark, and wore an arch and somewhat roguish expression; +upon one of his eyes was a kind of speck or beam; he might be +about forty, wore a green jockey coat, and held in his hand a +black riding whip, with a knob of silver wire. As I gazed +upon his countenance, it brought powerfully to my mind the face +which, by the light of the candle, I had seen staring over me on +the preceding night, when lying in bed and half asleep. +Close beside him, and seemingly in his company, stood an +exceedingly tall figure, that of a youth, seemingly about +one-and-twenty, dressed in a handsome riding dress, and wearing +on his head a singular hat, green in colour, and with a very high +peak. “What do you ask for this horse?” said he +of the green coat, winking at me with the eye which had a beam in +it, whilst the other shone and sparkled like Mrs. Colonel +W-’s Golconda diamond. “Who are you, sir, I +demand once more?” said he of the hungry look. +“Who am I? why, who should I be but Jack Dale, who buys +horses for himself and other folk; I want one at present for this +short young gentleman,” said he, motioning with his finger +to the gigantic youth. “Well, sir,” said the +other, “and what business have you to interfere between me +and any purchase I may be disposed to make?” +“Well, then,” said the other, “be quick and +purchase the horse, or, perhaps, I may.” “Do +you think I am to be dictated to by a fellow of your +description?” said his lordship, “begone, +or—” “What do you ask for this +horse?” said the other to me, very coolly. “A +hundred and fifty,” said I. “I shouldn’t +mind giving it to you,” said he. “You will do +no such thing,” said his lordship, speaking so fast that he +almost stuttered. “Sir,” said he to me, +“I must give you what you ask; Symmonds, take possession of +the animal for me,” said he to the other jockey who +attended him. “You will please to do no such thing +without my consent,” said I, “I have not sold +him.” “I have this moment told you that I will +give you the price you demand,” said his lordship; +“is not that sufficient?” “No,” +said I, “there is a proper manner of doing +everything—had you come forward in a manly and gentlemanly +manner to purchase the horse, I should have been happy to sell +him to you, but after all the fault you have found with him, I +would not sell him to you at any price, so send your friend to +find up another.” “You behave in this manner, I +suppose,” said his lordship, “because this fellow has +expressed a willingness to come to your terms. I would +advise you to be cautious how you trust the animal in his hands; +I think I have seen him before, and could tell +you—” “What can you tell of me?” +said the other, going up to him; “except that I have been a +poor dicky-boy, and that now I am a dealer in horses, and that my +father was lagged; that’s all you could tell of me, and +that I don’t mind telling myself: but there are two things +they can’t say of me, they can’t say that I am either +a coward or a screw either, except so far as one who gets his +bread by horses may be expected to be; and they can’t say +of me that I ever ate up an ice which a young woman was waiting +for, or that I ever backed out of a fight. Horse!” +said he, motioning with his finger tauntingly to the other; +“what do you want with a horse, except to take the bread +out of the mouth of a poor man—to-morrow is not the battle +of Waterloo, so that you don’t want to back out of danger, +by pretending to have hurt yourself by falling from the +creature’s back, my lord of the white feather—come, +none of your fierce looks—I am not afraid of +you.” In fact, the other had assumed an expression of +the deadliest malice, his teeth were clenched, his lips quivered, +and were quite pale; the rat-like eyes sparkled, and he made a +half spring, à la rat, towards his adversary, who only +laughed. Restraining himself, however, he suddenly turned +to his understrapper, saying, “Symmonds, will you see me +thus insulted? go and trounce this scoundrel; you can, I +know.” “Symmonds trounce me!” said the +other, going up to the person addressed, and drawing his hand +contemptuously over his face; “why, I beat Symmonds in this +very yard in one round three years ago; didn’t I, +Symmonds?” said he to the understrapper, who held down his +head, muttering, in a surly tone, “I didn’t come here +to fight; let every one take his own part.” +“That’s right, Symmonds,” said the other, +“especially every one from whom there is nothing to be +got. I would give you half-a-crown for all the trouble you +have had, provided I were not afraid that my Lord Plume there +would get it from you as soon as you leave the yard +together. Come, take yourselves both off; there’s +nothing to be made here.” Indeed, his lordship seemed +to be of the same opinion, for after a further glance at the +horse, a contemptuous look at me, and a scowl at the jockey, he +turned on his heel, muttering something which sounded like +fellows, and stalked out of the yard, followed by Symmonds.</p> +<p>“And now, young man,” said the jockey, or whatever +he was, turning to me with an arch leer, “I suppose I may +consider myself as the purchaser of this here animal, for the use +and behoof of this young gentleman?” making a sign with his +head to the tall young man by his side. “By no +means,” said I, “I am utterly unacquainted with +either of you, and before parting with the horse I must be +satisfied as to the respectability of the purchaser.” +“Oh! as to that matter,” said he, “I have +plenty of vouchers for my respectability about me;” and +thrusting his hand into his bosom below his waistcoat, he drew +out a large bundle of notes. “These are the kind of +things,” said he, “which vouch best for a man’s +respectability.” “Not always,” said I; +“indeed, sometimes these kind of things need vouchers for +themselves.” The man looked at me with a peculiar +look. “Do you mean to say that these notes are not +sufficient notes?” said he, “because if you do I +shall take the liberty of thinking you are not over civil, and +when I thinks a person is not over and above civil I sometimes +takes off my coat; and when my coat is off—” +“You sometimes knock people down,” I added; +“well, whether you knock me down or not, I beg leave to +tell you that I am a stranger in this fair, and that I shall part +with the horse to nobody who has no better guarantee for his +respectability than a roll of bank-notes, which may be good or +not for what I know, who am not a judge of such +things.” “Oh! if you are a stranger +here,” said the man, “as I believe you are, never +having seen you here before except last night, when I think I saw +you above stairs by the glimmer of a candle—I say, if you +are a stranger, you are quite right to be cautious; queer things +being done in this fair, as nobody knows better than +myself,” he added with a leer; “but I suppose if the +landlord of the house vouches for me and my notes, you will have +no objection to part with the horse to me?” +“None whatever,” said I, “and in the meantime +the horse can return to the stable.”</p> +<p>Thereupon I delivered the horse to my friend the ostler.</p> +<p>The landlord of the house on being questioned by me as to the +character and condition of my new acquaintance, informed me that +he was a respectable horsedealer, and an intimate friend of his, +whereupon the purchase was soon brought to a satisfactory +conclusion.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVIII</h2> +<p>High Dutch.</p> +<p>It was evening: and myself and the two acquaintances I had +made in the fair—namely, the jockey and the tall +foreigner—sat in a large upstairs room, which looked into a +court; we had dined with several people connected with the fair +at a long <i>table d’hôte</i>; they had now departed, +and we sat at a small side-table with wine and a candle before +us; both my companions had pipes in their mouths—the jockey +a common pipe, and the foreigner, one, the syphon of which, made +of some kind of wood, was at least six feet long, and the bowl of +which, made of a white kind of substance like porcelain, and +capable of holding nearly an ounce of tobacco, rested on the +ground. The jockey frequently emptied and replenished his +glass; the foreigner sometimes raised his to his lips, for no +other purpose seemingly than to moisten them, as he never drained +his glass. As for myself, though I did not smoke, I had a +glass before me, from which I sometimes took a sip. The +room, notwithstanding the window was flung open, was in general +so filled with smoke, chiefly that which was drawn from the huge +bowl of the foreigner, that my companions and I were frequently +concealed from each other’s eyes. The conversation, +which related entirely to the events of the fair, was carried on +by the jockey and myself, the foreigner, who appeared to +understand the greater part of what we said, occasionally putting +in a few observations in broken English. At length the +jockey, after the other had made some ineffectual attempts to +express something intelligibly which he wished to say, observed, +“Isn’t it a pity that so fine a fellow as meinheer, +and so clever a fellow too, as I believe him to be, is not a +better master of our language?”</p> +<p>“Is the gentleman a German?” said I; “if so, +I can interpret for him anything he wishes to say.”</p> +<p>“The deuce you can,” said the jockey, taking his +pipe out of his mouth, and staring at me through the smoke.</p> +<p>“Ha! you speak German,” vociferated the foreigner +in that language. “By Isten, I am glad of it! I +wanted to say—” And here he said in German what +he wished to say, and which was of no great importance, and which +I translated into English.</p> +<p>“Well, if you don’t put me out,” said the +jockey; “what language is that—Dutch?”</p> +<p>“High Dutch,” said I.</p> +<p>“High Dutch, and you speak High Dutch,—why, I had +booked you for as great an ignoramus as myself, who can’t +write—no, nor distinguish in a book a great A from a +bull’s foot.”</p> +<p>“A person may be a very clever man,” said +I—“no, not a clever man, for clever signifies +clerkly, and a clever man one who is able to read and write, and +entitled to the benefit of his clergy or clerkship; but a person +may be a very acute person without being able to read or +write. I never saw a more acute countenance than your +own.”</p> +<p>“No soft soap,” said the jockey, “for I +never uses any. However, thank you for your information; I +have hitherto thought myself a’nition clever fellow, but +from henceforth shall consider myself just the contrary, and +only—what’s the word?—confounded +’cute.”</p> +<p>“Just so,” said I.</p> +<p>“Well,” said the jockey, “as you say you can +speak High Dutch, I should like to hear you and master six foot +six fire away at each other.”</p> +<p>“I cannot speak German,” said I, “but I can +understand tolerably well what others say in it.”</p> +<p>“Come no backing out,” said the jockey, +“let’s hear you fire away for the glory of Old +England.”</p> +<p>“Then you are a German?” said I, in German to the +foreigner.</p> +<p>“That will do,” said the jockey, “keep it +up.”</p> +<p>“A German!” said the tall foreigner. +“No, I thank God that I do not belong to the stupid +sluggish Germanic race, but to a braver, taller, and handsomer +people;” here taking the pipe out of his mouth, he stood up +proudly erect, so that his head nearly touched the ceiling of the +room, then reseating himself, and again putting the syphon to his +lips, he added, “I am a Magyar.”</p> +<p>“What is that?” said I.</p> +<p>The foreigner looked at me for a moment, somewhat +contemptuously, through the smoke, then said, in a voice of +thunder, “A Hungarian!”</p> +<p>“What a voice the chap has when he pleases!” +interposed the jockey; “what is he saying?”</p> +<p>“Merely that he is a Hungarian,” said I; but I +added, “the conversation of this gentleman and myself in a +language which you can’t understand must be very tedious to +you, we had better give it up.”</p> +<p>“Keep on with it,” said the jockey, “I shall +go on listening very contentedly till I fall asleep, no bad thing +to do at most times.”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIX</h2> +<p>The Hungarian.</p> +<p>“Then you are a countryman of Tekeli, and of the queen +who made the celebrated water,” said I, speaking to the +Hungarian in German, which I was able to do tolerably well, owing +to my having translated the Publisher’s philosophy into +that language, always provided I did not attempt to say much at a +time.</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. Ah! you have heard of Tekeli, and of +L’eau de la Reine d’Hongrie. How is that?</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. I have seen a play acted, founded on the +exploits of Tekeli, and have read Pigault Le Brun’s +beautiful romance, entitled the “Barons of Felsheim,” +in which he is mentioned. As for the water, I have heard a +lady, the wife of a master of mine, speak of it.</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. Was she handsome?</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. Very.</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. Did she possess the water?</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. I should say not; for I have heard her +express a great curiosity about it.</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. Was she growing old?</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. Of course not; but why do you put all +these questions?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. Because the water is said to make +people handsome, and above all, to restore to the aged the beauty +of their youth. Well! Tekeli was my countryman, and I have +the honour of having some of the blood of the Tekelis in my +veins, but with respect to the queen, pardon me if I tell you +that she was not an Hungarian; she was a Pole—Ersebet by +name, daughter of Wladislaus Locticus King of Poland; she was the +fourth spouse of Caroly the Second, King of the Magyar country, +who married her in 1320. She was a great woman and +celebrated politician, though at present chiefly known by her +water.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. How came she to invent it?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. If her own account may be believed, +she did not invent it. After her death, as I have read in +Florentius of Buda, there was found a statement of the manner in +which she came by it, written in her own hand, on a fly-leaf of +her breviary, to the following effect:—Being afflicted with +a grievous disorder at the age of seventy-two, she received the +medicine which was called her water, from an old hermit whom she +never saw before or afterwards; it not only cured her, but +restored to her all her former beauty, so that the King of Poland +fell in love with her, and made her an offer of marriage, which +she refused for the glory of God, from whose holy angel she +believed she had received the water. The receipt for making +it and directions for using it, were also found on the +fly-leaf. The principal component parts were burnt wine and +rosemary, passed through an alembic; a drachm of it was to be +taken once a week, “etelbenn vagy italbann,” in the +food or the drink, early in the morning, and the cheeks were to +be moistened with it every day. The effects according to +the statement, were wonderful—and perhaps they were upon +the queen; but whether the water has been equally efficacious on +other people, is a point which I cannot determine. I should +wish to see some old woman who has been restored to youthful +beauty by the use of L’eau de la Reine d’Hongrie.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. Perhaps, if you did, the old gentlewoman +would hardly be so ingenuous as the queen. But who are the +Hungarians—descendants of Attila and his people?</p> +<p>The Hungarian shook his head, and gave me to understand that +he did not believe that his nation were the descendants of Attila +and his people, though he acknowledged that they were probably of +the same race. Attila and his armies, he said, came and +disappeared in a very mysterious manner, and that nothing could +be said with positiveness about them; that the people now known +as Magyars first made their appearance in Muscovy in the year +884, under the leadership of Almus, called so from Alom, which, +in the Hungarian language, signifies a dream; his mother, before +his birth, having dreamt that the child with which she was +enceinte would be the father of a long succession of kings, +which, in fact, was the case; that after beating the Russians he +entered Hungary, and coming to a place called Ungvar, from which +many people believed that modern Hungary derived its name, he +captured it, and held in it a grand festival, which lasted four +days, at the end of which time he resigned the leadership of the +Magyars to his son Arpad. This Arpad and his Magyars +utterly subdued Pannonia—that is, Hungary and Transylvania, +wresting the government of it from the Sclavonian tribes who +inhabited it, and settling down amongst them as conquerors! +After giving me this information, the Hungarian exclaimed with +much animation,—“A goodly country that which they had +entered on, consisting of a plain surrounded by mountains, some +of which intersect it here and there, with noble rapid rivers, +the grandest of which is the mighty Dunau; a country with tiny +volcanoes, casting up puffs of smoke and steam, and from which +hot springs arise, good for the sick; with many fountains, some +of which are so pleasant to the taste as to be preferred to wine; +with a generous soil which, warmed by a beautiful sun, is able to +produce corn, grapes, and even the Indian weed; in fact, one of +the finest countries in the world, which even a Spaniard would +pronounce to be nearly equal to Spain. Here they +rested—meditating, however, fresh conquests. Oh, the +Magyars soon showed themselves a mighty people. Besides +Hungary and Transylvania, they subdued Bulgaria and Bosnia, and +the land of Tot, now called Sclavonia. The generals of +Zoltan, the son of Arpad, led troops of horsemen to the banks of +the Rhine. One of them, at the head of a host, besieged +Constantinople. It was then that Botond engaged in combat +with a Greek of gigantic stature, who came out of the city and +challenged the two best men in the Magyar army. ‘I am +the feeblest of the Magyars,’ said Botond, ‘but I +will kill thee;’ and he performed his word, having +previously given a proof of the feebleness of his arm by striking +his battle-axe through the brazen gate, making a hole so big that +a child of five years old could walk through it.”</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. Of what religion were the old +Hungarians?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. They had some idea of a Supreme Being, +whom they called Isten, which word is still used by the Magyars +for God; but their chief devotion was directed to sorcerers and +soothsayers, something like the Schamans of the Siberian +steppes. They were converted to Christianity chiefly +through the instrumentality of Istvan or Stephen, called after +his death St. Istvan, who ascended the throne in the year one +thousand. He was born in heathenesse, and his original name +was Vojk: he was the first kiraly, or king of the Magyars. +Their former leaders had been called fejedelmek, or dukes. +The Magyar language has properly no term either for king or +house. Kiraly is a word derived from the Sclaves; haz, or +house, from the Germans, who first taught them to build houses, +their original dwellings having been tilted waggons.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. Many thanks for your account of the great +men of your country.</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. The great men of my country! I +have only told you of the— Well, I acknowledge that Almus +and Arpad were great men, but Hungary has produced many greater; +I will not trouble you by recapitulating all, but there is one +name I cannot forbear mentioning—but you have heard of +it—even at Horncastle, the name of Hunyadi must be +familiar.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. It may be so, though I rather doubt it; +but, however that may be, I confess my ignorance. I have +never, until this moment, heard the name of Hunyadi.</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. Not of Hunyadi Janos, not of Hunyadi +John—for the genius of our language compels us to put a +man’s Christian name after his other; perhaps you have +heard of the name of Corvinus?</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. Yes, I have heard the name of +Corvinus.</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. By my God, I am glad of it; I thought +our hammer of destruction, our thunderbolt, whom the Greeks +called Achilles, must be known to the people of Horncastle. +Well, Hunyadi and Corvinus are the same.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. Corvinus means the man of the crow, or +raven. I suppose that your John, when a boy, climbed up to +a crow or a raven’s nest, and stole the young; a bold feat, +well befitting a young hero.</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. By Isten, you are an acute guesser; a +robbery there was, but it was not Hunyadi who robbed the raven, +but the raven who robbed Hunyadi.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. How was that?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. In this manner: Hunyadi, according to +tradition, was the son of King Sigmond, by a peasant’s +daughter. The king saw and fell in love with her, whilst +marching against the vaivode of Wallachia. He had some +difficulty in persuading her to consent to his wishes, and she +only yielded at last, on the king making her a solemn promise +that, in the event of her becoming with child by him, he would +handsomely provide for her and the infant. The king +proceeded on his expedition; and on his returning in triumph from +Wallachia, again saw the girl, who informed him that she was +enceinte by him; the king was delighted with the intelligence, +gave the girl money, and at the same time a ring, requesting her, +if she brought forth a son, to bring the ring to Buda with the +child, and present it to him. When her time was up, the +peasant’s daughter brought forth a fair son, who was +baptized by the name of John. After some time the young +woman communicated the whole affair to her elder brother, whose +name was Gaspar, and begged him to convey her and the child to +the king at Buda. The brother consented, and both set out, +taking the child with them. On their way, the woman, +wanting to wash her clothes, laid the child down, giving it the +king’s ring to play with. A raven, who saw the +glittering ring, came flying, and plucking it out of the +child’s hand, carried it up into a tree; the child suddenly +began to cry, and the mother, hearing it, left her washing, and +running to the child, forthwith missed the ring, but hearing the +raven croak in the tree, she lifted up her eyes, and saw it with +the ring in its beak. The woman, in great terror, called +her brother, and told him what had happened, adding that she +durst not approach the king if the raven took away the +ring. Gaspar, seizing his cross-bow and quiver, ran to the +tree, where the raven was yet with the ring, and discharged an +arrow at it, but, being in a great hurry, he missed it; with his +second shot he was more lucky, for he hit the raven in the +breast, which, together with the ring, fell to the ground. +Taking up the ring, they went on their way, and shortly arrived +at Buda. One day, as the king was walking after dinner in +his outer hall, the woman appeared before him with the child, +and, showing him the ring, said, “Mighty lord! behold this +token! and take pity upon me and your own son.” King +Sigmond took the child and kissed it, and, after a pause, said to +the mother, “You have done right in bringing me the boy; I +will take care of you, and make him a nobleman.” The +king was as good as his word, he provided for the mother; caused +the boy to be instructed in knightly exercises, and made him a +present of the town of Hunyad, in Transylvania, on which account +he was afterwards called Hunyadi, and gave him, as an armorial +sign, a raven bearing a ring in his beak.</p> +<p>Such, oh young man of Horncastle! is the popular account of +the birth of the great captain of Hungary, as related by +Florentius of Buda. There are other accounts of his birth, +which is, indeed, involved in much mystery, and of the reason of +his being called Corvinus, but as this is the most pleasing, and +is, upon the whole, founded on quite as good evidence as the +others, I have selected it for recitation.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. I heartily thank you; but you must tell +me something more of Hunyadi. You call him your great +captain; what did he do?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. Do! what no other man of his day could +have done. He broke the power of the Turk when he was +coming to overwhelm Europe. From the blows inflicted by +Hunyadi, the Turk never thoroughly recovered; he has been +frequently worsted in latter times, but none but Hunyadi could +have routed the armies of Amurath and Mahomed the Second.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. How was it that he had an opportunity of +displaying his military genius?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. I can hardly tell you, but his valour +soon made him famous; King Albert made him Ban of Szorenyi. +He became eventually waivode of Transylvania, and governor of +Hungary. His first grand action was the defeat of Bashaw +Isack; and though himself surprised and routed at St. Imre, he +speedily regained his prestige by defeating the Turks, with +enormous slaughter, killing their leader, Mezerbeg; and +subsequently, at the battle of the Iron Gates, he destroyed +ninety thousand Turks, sent by Amurath to avenge the late +disgrace. It was then that the Greeks called him +Achilles.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. He was not always successful.</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. Who could be always successful against +the early Turk? He was defeated in the battle in which King +Vladislaus lost his life, but his victories outnumbered his +defeats three-fold. His grandest victory—perhaps the +grandest ever achieved by man—was over the terrible Mahomed +the Second; who, after the taking of Constantinople in 1453, +said, “One God in Heaven—one king on earth;” +and marched to besiege Belgrade at the head of one hundred, and +fifty thousand men; swearing by the beard of the prophet, +“That he would sup within it ere two months were +elapsed.” He brought with him dogs, to eat the bodies +of the Christians whom he should take or slay; so says +Florentius; hear what he also says: The Turk sat down before the +town towards the end of June, 1454, covering the Dunau and Szava +with ships: and on the 4th of July he began to cannonade Belgrade +with cannons twenty-five feet long, whose roar could be heard at +Szeged, a distance of twenty-four leagues, at which place Hunyadi +had assembled his forces. Hunyadi had been able to raise +only fifteen thousand of well-armed and disciplined men, though +he had with him vast bands of people, who called themselves +Soldiers of the Cross, but who consisted of inexperienced lads +from school, peasants, and hermits, armed with swords, slings, +and clubs. Hunyadi, undismayed by the great disparity +between his forces and those of the Turk, advanced to relieve +Belgrade, and encamped at Szalankemen with his army. There +he saw at once, that his first step must be to attack the +flotilla; he therefore privately informed Szilagy, his +wife’s brother, who at that time defended Belgrade, that it +was his intention to attack the ships of the Turks on the 14th +day of July in front, and requested his co-operation in the +rear. On the 14th came on the commencement of the great +battle of Belgrade, between Hunyadi and the Turk. Many days +it lasted.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. Describe it.</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. I cannot. One has described it +well—Florentius of Buda. I can only repeat a few of +his words:—“On the appointed day, Hunyadi, with two +hundred vessels, attacked the Turkish flotilla in front, whilst +Szilagy, with forty vessels, filled with the men of Belgrade, +assailed it in the rear; striving for the same object, they sunk +many of the Turkish vessels, captured seventy-four, burnt many, +and utterly annihilated the whole fleet. After this +victory, Hunyadi, with his army, entered Belgrade, to the great +joy of the Magyars. But though the force of Mahomed upon +the water was destroyed, that upon the land remained entire; and +with this, during six days and nights, he attacked the city +without intermission, destroying its walls in many parts. +His last and most desperate assault was made on the 21st day of +July. Twice did the Turks gain possession of the outer +town, and twice was it retaken with indescribable +slaughter. The next day the combat raged without ceasing +till mid-day, when the Turks were again beaten out of the town, +and pursued by the Magyars to their camp. There the combat +was renewed, both sides displaying the greatest obstinacy, until +Mahomed received a great wound over his left eye. The Turks +then, turning their faces, fled, leaving behind them three +hundred cannon in the hands of the Christians, and more than +twenty-four thousand slain on the field of battle.”</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. After that battle, I suppose Hunyadi +enjoyed his triumphs in peace?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. In the deepest, for he shortly +died. His great soul quitted his body, which was exhausted +by almost superhuman exertions, on the 11th of August, +1456. Shortly before he died, according to Florentius, a +comet appeared, sent, as it would seem, to announce his coming +end. The whole Christian world mourned his loss. The +Pope ordered the cardinals to perform a funeral ceremony at Rome +in his honour. His great enemy himself grieved for him, and +pronounced his finest eulogium. When Mahomed the Second +heard of his death, he struck his head for some time against the +ground without speaking. Suddenly he broke silence with +these words, “Notwithstanding he was my enemy, yet do I +bewail his loss; since the sun has shone in heaven, no Prince had +ever yet such a man.”</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. What was the name of his Prince?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. Laszlo the Fifth; who, though under +infinite obligations to Hunyadi, was anything but grateful to +him; for he once consented to a plan which was laid to +assassinate him, contrived by his mortal enemy Ulrik, Count of +Cilejia; and after Hunyadi’s death, caused his eldest son, +Hunyadi Laszlo, to be executed on a false accusation, and +imprisoned his younger son, Matyas, who, on the death of Laszlo, +was elected by the Magyars to be their king, on the 24th of +January, 1458.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. Was this Matyas a good king?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. Was Matyas Corvinus a good king? +O young man of Horncastle! he was the best and greatest that ever +Hungary possessed, and, after his father, the most renowned +warrior,—some of our best laws were framed by him. It +was he who organized the Hussar force, and it was he who took +Vienna. Why does your Government always send fools to +represent it at Vienna?</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. I really cannot say; but with respect to +the Hussar force, is it of Hungarian origin?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. Its name shows its origin. Huz, +in Hungarian, is twenty and the Hussar force is so called because +it is formed of twentieths. A law was issued by which it +was ordered that every Hungarian nobleman, out of every twenty +dependents, should produce a well-equipped horseman, and with him +proceed to the field of battle.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. Why did Matyas capture Venna?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. Because the Emperor Frederick took +part against him with the King of Poland, who claimed the kingdom +of Hungary for his son, and had also assisted the Turk. He +captured it in the year 1487, but did not survive his triumph +long, expiring there in the year 1490. He was so veracious +a man, that it was said of him, after his death, “Truth +died with Matyas.” It might be added that the glory +of Hungary departed with him. I wish to say nothing more +connected with Hungarian history.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. Another word. Did Matyas leave a +son?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. A natural son, Hunyadi John, called so +after the great man. He would have been universally +acknowledged as King of Hungary but for the illegitimacy of his +birth. As it was, Ulaszlo, the son of the King of Poland, +afterwards called Ulaszlo the Second, who claimed Hungary as +being descended from Albert, was nominated king by a great +majority of the Magyar electors. Hunyadi John for some time +disputed the throne with him; there was some bloodshed, but +Hunyadi John eventually submitted, and became the faithful +captain of Ulaszlo, notwithstanding that the Turk offered to +assist him with an army of two hundred thousand men.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. Go on.</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. To what? Tché Drak, to +the Mohacs Veszedelem. Ulaszlo left a son, Lajos the +Second, born without skin, as it is said, certainly without a +head. He, contrary to the advice of all his wise +counsellors,—and amongst them was Batory Stephen, who +became eventually King of Poland—engaged, with twenty-five +thousand men, at Mohacs, Soliman the Turk, who had an army of two +hundred thousand. Drak! the Magyars were annihilated, King +Lajos disappeared with his heavy horse and armour in a bog. +We call that battle, which was fought on the 29th of August, +1526, the destruction of Mohacs, but it was the destruction of +Hungary.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. You have twice used the word drak, what +is the meaning of it? Is it Hungarian?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. No! it belongs to the mad +Wallacks. They are a nation of madmen on the other side of +Transylvania. Their country was formerly a fief of Hungary, +like Moldavia, which is inhabited by the same race, who speak the +same language and are equally mad.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. What language do they speak?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. A strange mixture of Latin and +Sclavonian—they themselves being a mixed race of Romans and +Sclavonians. Trajan sent certain legions to form military +colonies in Dacia; and the present Wallacks and Moldavians are, +to a certain extent, the descendants of the Roman soldiers, who +married the women of the country. I say to a certain +extent, for the Sclavonian element both in blood and language +seems to prevail.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. And what is drak?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. Dragon; which the Wallacks use for +“devil.” The term is curious, as it shows that +the old Romans looked upon the dragon as an infernal being.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. You have been in Wallachia?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. I have, and glad I was to get out of +it. I hate the mad Wallacks.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. Why do you call them mad?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. They are always drinking or +talking. I never saw a Wallachian eating or silent. +They talk like madmen, and drink like madmen. In drinking +they use small phials, the contents of which they pour down their +throats. When I first went amongst them I thought the whole +nation was under a course of physic, but the terrible jabber of +their tongues soon undeceived me. Drak was the first word I +heard on entering Dacia, and the last when I left it. The +Moldaves, if possible, drink more, and talk more than the +Wallachians.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. It is singular enough that the only +Moldavian I have known could not speak. I suppose he was +born dumb.</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. A Moldavian born dumb! Excuse +me, the thing is impossible,—all Moldavians are born +talking! I have known a Moldavian who could not speak, but +he was not born dumb. His master, an Armenian, snipped off +part of his tongue at Adrianople. He drove him mad with his +jabber. He is now in London, where his master has a +house. I have letters of credit on the house: the clerk +paid me money in London, the master was absent; the money which +you received for the horse belonged to that house.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. Another word with respect to Hungarian +history.</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. Drak! I wish to say nothing more +about Hungarian history.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. The Turk, I suppose, after Mohacs, got +possession of Hungary?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. Not exactly. The Turk, upon the +whole, showed great moderation; not so the Austrian. +Ferdinand the First claimed the crown of Hungary as being the +cousin of Maria, widow of Lajos; he found too many disposed to +support him. His claim, however, was resisted by Zapolya +John, a Hungarian magnate, who caused himself to be elected +king. Hungary was for a long time devastated by wars +between the partisans of Zapolya and Ferdinand. At last +Zapolya called in the Turk. Soliman behaved generously to +him, and after his death befriended his young son, and Isabella +his queen; eventually the Turks became masters of Transylvania +and the greater part of Hungary. They were not bad masters, +and had many friends in Hungary, especially amongst those of the +reformed faith, to which I have myself the honour of belonging; +those of the reformed faith found the Mufti more tolerant than +the Pope. Many Hungarians went with the Turks to the siege +of Vienna, whilst Tekeli and his horsemen guarded Hungary for +them. A gallant enterprise that siege of Vienna, the last +great effort of the Turk; it failed, and he speedily lost +Hungary, but he did not sneak from Hungary like a frightened +hound. His defence of Buda will not be soon forgotten, +where Apty Basha, the governor, died fighting like a lion in the +breach. There’s many a Hungarian would prefer +Stamboul to Vienna. Why does your Government always send +fools to represent it at Vienna?</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. I have already told you that I cannot +say. What became of Tekeli?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. When Hungary was lost he retired with +the Turks into Turkey. Count Renoncourt, in his Memoirs, +mentions having seen him at Adrianople. The Sultan, in +consideration of the services which he had rendered to the Moslem +in Hungary, made over the revenues of certain towns and districts +for his subsistence. The count says that he always went +armed to the teeth, and was always attended by a young female +dressed in male attire, who had followed him in his wars, and had +more than once saved his life. His end is wrapped in +mystery, I—whose greatest boast, next to being a Hungarian, +is to be of his blood—know nothing of his end.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. Allow me to ask who you are?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. Egy szegeny Magyar Nemes ember, a poor +Hungarian nobleman, son of one yet poorer. I was born in +Transylvania, not far to the west of good Coloscvar. I +served some time in the Austrian army as a noble Hussar, but am +now equerry to a great nobleman, to whom I am distantly +related. In his service I have travelled far and wide, +buying horses. I have been in Russia and in Turkey, and am +now at Horncastle, where I have had the satisfaction to meet with +you, and to buy your horse, which is, in truth, a noble +brute.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. For a soldier and equerry you seem to +know a great deal of the history of your country.</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. All I know is derived from Florentius +of Buda, whom we call Budai Ferentz. He was professor of +Greek and Latin at the Reformed College of Debreczen, where I was +educated; he wrote a work entitled “Magyar Polgari +Lexicon,” Lives of Great Hungarian Citizens. He was +dead before I was born, but I found his book, when I was a child, +in the solitary home of my father, which stood on the confines of +a puszta, or wilderness, and that book I used to devour in winter +nights when the winds were whistling around the house. Oh! +how my blood used to glow at the descriptions of Magyar valour, +and likewise of Turkish; for Florentius has always done justice +to the Turk. Many a passage similar to this have I got by +heart; it is connected with a battle on the plain of Rigo, which +Hunyadi lost:—“The next day, which was Friday, as the +two armies were drawn up in battle array, a Magyar hero riding +forth, galloped up and down, challenging the Turks to single +combat. Then came out to meet him the son of a renowned +bashaw of Asia; rushing upon each other, both broke their lances, +but the Magyar hero and his horse rolled over upon the ground, +for the Turks had always the best horses.” O young +man of Horncastle! if ever you learn Hungarian—and learn it +assuredly you will after what I have told you—read the book +of Florentius of Buda, even if you go to Hungary to get it, for +you will scarcely find it elsewhere, and even there with +difficulty, for the book has been long out of print. It +describes the actions of the great men of Hungary down to the +middle of the sixteenth century; and besides being written in the +purest Hungarian, has the merit of having for its author a +professor of the Reformed College of Debreczen.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. I will go to Hungary rather than not read +it. I am glad that the Turk beat the Magyar. When I +used to read the ballads of Spain I always sided with the Moor +against the Christian.</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. It was a drawn fight after all, for +the terrible horse of the Turk presently flung his own master, +whereupon the two champions returned to their respective armies; +but in the grand conflict which ensued, the Turks beat the +Magyars, pursuing them till night, and striking them on the necks +with their scymetars. The Turk is a noble fellow; I should +wish to be a Turk, were I not a Magyar.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. The Turk always keeps his word, I am +told.</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. Which the Christian very seldom does, +and even the Hungarian does not always. In 1444 Ulaszlo +made, at Szeged, peace with Amurath for ten years, which he swore +with an oath to keep, but at the instigation of the Pope Julian +he broke it, and induced his great captain, Hunyadi John, to +share in the perjury. The consequence was the battle of +Varna, of the 10th of November, in which Hunyadi was routed, and +Ulaszlo slain. Did you ever hear his epitaph? it is both +solemn and edifying:—</p> +<blockquote><p>Romulidæ Cannas ego Varnam clade notavi;<br +/> +Discite mortales non temerare fidem:<br /> +Me nisi Pontifices jussissent rumpere foedus<br /> +Non ferret Scythicum Pannonis ora jugum.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Halloo!” said the jockey, starting up from a doze +in which he had been indulging for the last hour, his head +leaning upon his breast, “what is that? That’s +not high Dutch; I bargained for high Dutch, and I left you +speaking high Dutch, as it sounded very much like the language of +horses, as I have been told high Dutch does; but as for what you +are speaking now, whatever you may call it, it sounds more like +the language of another kind of animal. I suppose you want +to insult me, because I was once a dicky-boy.”</p> +<p>“Nothing of the kind,” said I; “the +gentleman was making a quotation in Latin.”</p> +<p>“Latin, was it?” said the jockey; “that +alters the case. Latin is genteel, and I have sent my +eldest boy to an academy to learn it. Come, let us hear you +fire away in Latin,” he continued, proceeding to re-light +his pipe, which, before going to sleep, he had laid on the +table.</p> +<p>“If you wish to follow the discourse in Latin,” +said the Hungarian, in very bad English, “I can oblige you; +I learned to speak very good Latin in the college of +Debreczen.”</p> +<p>“That’s more,” said I, “than I have +done in the colleges where I have been; in any little +conversation which we may yet have, I wish you would use +German.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said the jockey, taking a whiff, +“make your conversation as short as possible, whether in +Latin or Dutch, for, to tell you the truth, I am rather tired of +merely playing listener.”</p> +<p>“You were saying you had been in Russia,” said I; +“I believe the Russians are part of the Sclavonian +race.”</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. Yes, part of the great Sclavonian +family; one of the most numerous races in the world. The +Russians themselves are very numerous; would that the Magyars +could boast of the fifth part of their number!</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. What is the number of the Magyars?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. Barely four millions. We came a +tribe of Tartars into Europe, and settled down amongst +Sclavonians, whom we conquered, but who never coalesced with +us. The Austrian at present plays in Pannonia the +Sclavonian against us, and us against the Sclavonian; but the +downfall of the Austrian is at hand; they, like us, are not a +numerous people.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. Who will bring about his downfall?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. The Russians. The Rysckie Tsar +will lead his people forth, all the Sclavonians will join him, he +will conquer all before him.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. Are the Russians good soldiers?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. They are stubborn and unflinching to +an astonishing degree, and their fidelity to their Tsar is quite +admirable. See how the Russians behaved at Plescova, in +Livonia, in the old time, against our great Batory Stephen; they +defended the place till it was a heap of rubbish, and mark how +they behaved after they had been made prisoners. Stephen +offered them two alternatives:—to enter into his service, +in which they would have good pay, clothing, and fair treatment; +or to be allowed to return to Russia. Without the slightest +hesitation they, to a man, chose the latter, though well aware +that their beloved Tsar, the cruel Ivan Basilowits, would put +them all to death, amidst tortures the most horrible, for not +doing what was impossible—preserving the town.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. You speak Russian?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. A little. I was born in the +vicinity of a Sclavonian tribe; the servants of our house were +Sclavonians, and I early acquired something of their language, +which differs not much from that of Russia; when in that country +I quickly understood what was said.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. Have the Russians any literature?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. Doubtless; but I am not acquainted +with it, as I do not read their language; but I know something of +their popular tales, to which I used to listen in their +izbushkas; a principal personage in these is a creation quite +original—called Baba Yaga.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. Who is the Baba Yaga?</p> +<p><i>Hungarian</i>. A female phantom, who is described as +hurrying along the puszta, or steppe, in a mortar, pounding with +a pestle at a tremendous rate, and leaving a long trace on the +ground behind her with her tongue, which is three yards long, and +with which she seizes any men and horses coming in her way, +swallowing them down into her capacious belly. She has +several daughters, very handsome, and with plenty of money; happy +the young Mujik who catches and marries one of them, for they +make excellent wives.</p> +<p>“Many thanks,” said I, “for the information +you have afforded me: this is rather poor wine,” I +observed, as I poured out a glass—“I suppose you have +better wine in Hungary?”</p> +<p>“Yes, we have better wine in Hungary. First of all +there is Tokay, the most celebrated in the world, though I +confess I prefer the wine of Eger—Tokay is too +sweet.”</p> +<p>“Have you ever been at Tokay?”</p> +<p>“I have,” said the Hungarian.</p> +<p>“What kind of place is Tokay?”</p> +<p>“A small town situated on the Tyzza, a rapid river +descending from the north; the Tokay Mountain is just behind the +town, which stands on the right bank. The top of the +mountain is called Kopacs Teto, or the bald tip; the hill is so +steep that during thunder-storms pieces frequently fall down upon +the roofs of the houses. It was planted with vines by King +Lajos, who ascended the throne in 1342. The best wine +called Tokay is, however, not made at Tokay, but at Kassau, two +leagues farther into the Carpathians, of which Tokay is a +spur. If you wish to drink the best Tokay, you must go to +Vienna, to which place all the prime is sent. For the third +time I ask you, O young man of Horncastle! why does your +Government always send fools to represent it at +Vienna?”</p> +<p>“And for the third time I tell you, O son of Almus! that +I cannot say; perhaps, however, to drink the sweet Tokay wine; +fools, you know, always like sweet things.”</p> +<p>“Good,” said the Hungarian; “it must be so, +and when I return to Hungary, I will state to my countrymen your +explanation of a circumstance which has frequently caused them +great perplexity. Oh! the English are a clever people, and +have a deep meaning in all they do. What a vision of deep +policy opens itself to my view! they do not send their fool to +Vienna in order to gape at processions, and to bow and scrape at +a base Papist court, but to drink at the great dinners the +celebrated Tokay of Hungary, which the Hungarians, though they do +not drink it, are very proud of, and by doing so to intimate the +sympathy which the English entertain for their fellow +religionists of Hungary. Oh! the English are a deep +people.”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XL</h2> +<p>The Horncastle Welcome—Tzernebock and Bielebock.</p> +<p>The pipe of the Hungarian had, for some time past, exhibited +considerable symptoms of exhaustion, little or no ruttling having +been heard in the tube, and scarcely a particle of smoke, drawn +through the syphon, having been emitted from the lips of the +possessor. He now rose from his seat, and going to a corner +of the room, placed his pipe against the wall, then striding up +and down the room, he cracked his fingers several times, +exclaiming, in a half-musing manner, “Oh, the deep nation, +which, in order to display its sympathy for Hungary, sends its +fool to Vienna, to drink the sweet wine of Tokay!”</p> +<p>The jockey, having looked for some time at the tall figure +with evident approbation, winked at me with that brilliant eye of +his on which there was no speck, saying, “’Did you +ever see a taller fellow?”</p> +<p>“Never,” said I.</p> +<p>“Or a finer?”</p> +<p>“That’s another question,” said I, +“which I am not so willing to answer; however, as I am fond +of truth, and scorn to flatter, I will take the liberty of saying +that I have seen a finer.”</p> +<p>“A finer! where?” said the jockey; whilst the +Hungarian, who appeared to understand what we said, stood still, +and looked full at me.</p> +<p>“Amongst a strange set of people,” said I, +“whom, if I were to name, you would, I dare say, only laugh +at me.”</p> +<p>“Who be they?” said the jockey. “Come, +don’t be ashamed; I have occasionally kept queerish company +myself.”</p> +<p>“The people whom we call gypsies,” said I; +“whom the Germans call Zigeuner, and who call themselves +Romany chals.”</p> +<p>“Zigeuner!” said the Hungarian; “by +Isten! I do know those people.”</p> +<p>“Romany chals!” said the jockey; +“whew! I begin to smell a rat.”</p> +<p>“What do you mean by smelling a rat?” said I.</p> +<p>“I’ll bet a crown,” said the jockey, +“that you be the young chap what certain folks call +‘the Romany Rye.’”</p> +<p>“Ah!” said I, “how came you to know that +name?”</p> +<p>“Be not you he?” said the jockey.</p> +<p>“Why, I certainly have been called by that +name.”</p> +<p>“I could have sworn it,” said the jockey; then +rising from his chair, he laid his pipe on the table, took a +large hand-bell which stood on the side-board, and going to the +door, opened it, and commenced ringing in a most tremendous +manner on the staircase. The noise presently brought up a +waiter, to whom the jockey vociferated, “Go to your master, +and tell him to send immediately three bottles of champagne, of +the pink kind, mind you, which is twelve guineas a dozen;” +the waiter hurried away, and the jockey resumed his seat and his +pipe. I sat in silent astonishment until the waiter +returned with a basket containing the wine, which, with three +long glasses, he placed on the table. The jockey then got +up, and going to a large bow-window at the end of the room, which +looked into a court-yard, peeped out; then saying, “the +coast is clear,” he shut down the principal sash which was +open for the sake of the air, and taking up a bottle of +champagne, he placed another in the hands of the Hungarian, to +whom he said something in private. The latter, who seemed +to understand him, answered by a nod. The two then going to +the end of the table fronting the window, and about eight paces +from it, stood before it, holding the bottles by their necks; +suddenly the jockey lifted up his arm. +“Surely,” said I, “you are not mad enough to +fling that bottle through the window?” +“Here’s to the Romany Rye; here’s to the sweet +master,” said the jockey, dashing the bottle through the +pane in so neat a manner that scarcely a particle of glass fell +into the room.</p> +<p>“Eljen edes csigany ur—eljen gul eray!” said +the Hungarian, swinging round his bottle, and discharging it at +the window; but, either not possessing the jockey’s +accuracy of aim, or reckless of the consequences, he flung his +bottle so, that it struck against part of the wooden setting of +the panes, breaking along with the wood and itself three or four +panes to pieces. The crash was horrid, and wine and +particles of glass flew back into the room, to the no small +danger of its inmates. “What do you think of +that?” said the jockey; “were you ever so honoured +before?” “Honoured!” said I. +“God preserve me in future from such honour;” and I +put my finger to my cheek, which was slightly hurt by a particle +of the glass. “That’s the way we of the cofrady +honour great men at Horncastle,” said the jockey. +“What, you are hurt! never mind; all the better; your +scratch shows that you are the body the compliment was paid +to.” “And what are you going to do with the +other bottle?” said I. “Do with it!” said +the jockey, “why, drink it, cosily and comfortably, whilst +holding a little quiet talk. The Romany Rye at Horncastle, +what an idea!”</p> +<p>“And what will the master of the house say to all this +damage which you have caused him!”</p> +<p>“What will your master say, William?” said the +jockey to the waiter, who had witnessed the singular scene just +described without exhibiting the slightest mark of +surprise. William smiled, and slightly shrugging his +shoulders, replied, “Very little, I dare say, sir; this +a’n’t the first time your honour has done a thing of +this kind.” “Nor will it be the first time that +I shall have paid for it,” said the jockey; “well, I +shall never have paid for a certain item in the bill with more +pleasure than I shall pay for it now. Come, William, draw +the cork, and let us taste the pink champagne.”</p> +<p>The waiter drew the cork, and filled the glasses with a pinky +liquor, which bubbled, hissed, and foamed. “How do +you like it?” said the jockey, after I had imitated the +example of my companions, by despatching my portion at a +draught.</p> +<p>“It is wonderful wine,” said I; “I have +never tasted champagne before, though I have frequently heard it +praised; it more than answers my expectations; but, I confess, I +should not wish to be obliged to drink it every day.”</p> +<p>“Nor I,” said the jockey, “for every-day +drinking give me a glass of old port, or—”</p> +<p>“Of hard old ale,” I interposed, “which, +according to my mind, is better than all the wine in the +world.”</p> +<p>“Well said, Romany Rye,” said the jockey, +“just my own opinion; now, William, make yourself +scarce.”</p> +<p>The waiter withdrew, and I said to the jockey, “How did +you become acquainted with the Romany chals?”</p> +<p>“I first became acquainted with them,” said the +jockey, “when I lived with old Fulcher the basketmaker, who +took me up when I was adrift upon the world; I do not mean the +present Fulcher, who is likewise called old Fulcher, but his +father, who has been dead this many a year; while living with him +in the caravan, I frequently met them in the green lanes, and of +latter years I have had occasional dealings with them in the +horse line.”</p> +<p>“And the gypsies have mentioned me to you?” said +I.</p> +<p>“Frequently,” said the jockey, “and not only +those of these parts; why, there’s scarcely a part of +England in which I have not heard the name of the Romany Rye +mentioned by these people. The power you have over them is +wonderful; that is, I should have thought it wonderful, had they +not more than once told me the cause.”</p> +<p>“And what is the cause?” said I, “for I am +sure I do not know.”</p> +<p>“The cause is this,” said the jockey, “they +never heard a bad word proceed from your mouth, and never knew +you do a bad thing.”</p> +<p>“They are a singular people,” said I.</p> +<p>“And what a singular language they have got,” said +the jockey.</p> +<p>“Do you know it?” said I.</p> +<p>“Only a few words,” said the jockey, “they +were always chary in teaching me any.”</p> +<p>“They were vary sherry to me too,” said the +Hungarian, speaking in broken English; “I only could learn +from them half-a-dozen words, for example, gul eray, which, in +the czigany of my country, means sweet gentleman; or edes ur in +my own Magyar.”</p> +<p>“Gudlo Rye, in the Romany of mine, means a sugar’d +gentleman,” said I; “then there are gypsies in your +country?”</p> +<p>“Plenty,” said the Hungarian, speaking German, +“and in Russia and Turkey too; and wherever they are found, +they are alike in their ways and language. Oh, they are a +strange race, and how little known! I know little of them, +but enough to say, that one horse-load of nonsense has been +written about them; there is one Valter Scott—”</p> +<p>“Mind what you say about him,” said I; “he +is our grand authority in matters of philology and +history.”</p> +<p>“A pretty philologist,” said the Hungarian, +“who makes the gypsies speak Roth-Welsch, the dialect of +thieves; a pretty historian, who couples together Thor and +Tzernebock.”</p> +<p>“Where does he do that?” said I.</p> +<p>“In his conceited romance of ‘Ivanhoe,’ he +couples Thor and Tzernebock together, and calls them gods of the +heathen Saxons.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “Thur or Thor was certainly +a god of the heathen Saxons.”</p> +<p>“True,” said the Hungarian; “but why couple +him with Tzernebock? Tzernebock was a word which your +Valter had picked up somewhere without knowing the meaning. +Tzernebock was no god of the Saxons, but one of the gods of the +Sclaves, on the southern side of the Baltic. The Sclaves +had two grand gods to whom they sacrificed, Tzernebock and +Bielebock; that is, the black and white gods, who represented the +powers of dark and light. They were overturned by Waldemar, +the Dane, the great enemy of the Sclaves; the account of whose +wars you will find in one fine old book, written by Saxo +Gramaticus, which I read in the library of the college of +Debreczen. The Sclaves, at one time, were masters of all +the southern shore of the Baltic, where their descendants are +still to be found, though they have lost their language, and call +themselves Germans; but the word Zernevitz near Dantzic, still +attests that the Sclavic language was once common in those +parts. Zernevitz means the thing of blackness, as +Tzernebock means the god of blackness. Prussia itself +merely means, in Sclavish, Lower Russia. There is scarcely +a race or language in the world more extended than the +Sclavic. On the other side of the Dunau you will find the +Sclaves and their language. Czernavoda is Sclavic, and +means black water; in Turkish, kara su; even as Tzernebock means +black god; and Belgrade, or Belograd, means the white town; even +as Bielebock, or Bielebog, means the white god. Oh! he is +one great ignorant, that Valter. He is going, they say, to +write one history about Napoleon. I do hope that in his +history he will couple his Thor and Tzernebock together. By +my God! it would be good diversion that.”</p> +<p>“Walter Scott appears to be no particular favourite of +yours,” said I.</p> +<p>“He is not,” said the Hungarian; “I hate him +for his slavish principles. He wishes to see absolute power +restored in this country, and Popery also—and I hate him +because—what do you think? In one of his novels, +published a few months ago, he has the insolence to insult +Hungary in the presence of one of her sons. He makes his +great braggart, Coeur de Lion, fling a Magyar over his +head. Ha! it was well for Richard that he never felt the +gripe of a Hungarian. I wish the braggart could have felt +the gripe of me, who am ‘a’ magyarok közt +legkissebb,’ the least among the Magyars. I do hate +that Scott, and all his vile gang of Lowlanders and +Highlanders. The black corps, the fekete regiment of +Matyjas Hunyadi, was worth all the Scots, high or low, that ever +pretended to be soldiers; and would have sent them all headlong +into the Black Sea, had they dared to confront it on its shores; +but why be angry with an ignorant, who couples together Thor and +Tzernebock? Ha! Ha!”</p> +<p>“You have read his novels?” said I.</p> +<p>“Yes, I read them now and then. I do not speak +much English, but I can read it well, and I have read some of his +romances, and mean to read his ‘Napoleon,’ in the +hope of finding Thor and Tzernebock coupled together in it, as in +his high-flying ‘Ivanhoe.’”</p> +<p>“Come,” said the jockey, “no more Dutch, +whether high or low. I am tired of it; unless we can have +some English, I am off to bed.”</p> +<p>“I should be very glad to hear some English,” said +I; “especially from your mouth. Several things which +you have mentioned, have awakened my curiosity. Suppose you +give us your history?”</p> +<p>“My history?” said the jockey. “A rum +idea! however, lest conversation should lag, I’ll give it +you. First of all, however, a glass of champagne to +each.”</p> +<p>After we had each taken a glass of champagne, the jockey +commenced his history.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XLI</h2> +<p>The Jockey’s Tale—Thieves’ +Latin—Liberties with Coin—The Smasher in +Prison—Old Fulcher—Every One has His +Gift—Fashion of the English.</p> +<p>“My grandfather was a shorter, and my father was a +smasher; the one was scragg’d, and the other +lagg’d.”</p> +<p>I here interrupted the jockey by observing that his discourse +was, for the greater part, unintelligible to me.</p> +<p>“I do not understand much English,” said the +Hungarian, who, having replenished and resumed his mighty pipe, +was now smoking away; “but, by Isten, I believe it is the +gibberish which that great ignorant Valther Scott puts into the +mouths of the folks he calls gypsies.”</p> +<p>“Something like it, I confess,” said I, +“though this sounds more genuine than his dialect, which he +picked up out of the canting vocabulary at the end of the +‘English Rogue,’ a book which, however despised, was +written by a remarkable genius. What do you call the speech +you were using?” said I, addressing myself to the +jockey.</p> +<p>“Latin,” said the jockey, very coolly, “that +is, that dialect of it which is used by the light-fingered +gentry.”</p> +<p>“He is right,” said the Hungarian; “it is +what the Germans call Roth-Welsch: they call it so because there +are a great many Latin words in it, introduced by the priests, +who, at the time of the Reformation, being too lazy to work and +too stupid to preach, joined the bands of thieves and robbers who +prowled about the country. Italy, as you are aware, is +called by the Germans Welschland, or the land of the Welschers; +and I may add that Wallachia derives its name from a colony of +Welschers which Trajan sent there. Welsch and Wallack being +one and the same word, and tantamount to Latin.”</p> +<p>“I dare say you are right,” said I; “but why +was Italy termed Welschland?”</p> +<p>“I do not know,” said the Hungarian.</p> +<p>“Then I think I can tell you,” said I; “it +was called so because the original inhabitants were a Cimbric +tribe, who were called Gwyltiad, that is, a race of wild people, +living in coverts, who were of the same blood, and spoke the same +language as the present inhabitants of Wales. Welsh seems +merely a modification of Gwyltiad. Pray continue your +history,” said I to the jockey, “only please to do so +in a language which we can understand, and first of all interpret +the sentence with which you began it.”</p> +<p>“I told you that my grandfather was a shorter,” +said the jockey, “by which is meant a gentleman who +shortens or reduces the current coin of these realms, for which +practice he was scragged, that is, hung by the scrag of the +neck. And when I said that my father was a smasher, I meant +one who passes forged notes, thereby doing his best to smash the +Bank of England; by being lagged, I meant he was laid fast, that +is, had a chain put round his leg and then +transported.”</p> +<p>“Your explanations are quite satisfactory,” said +I; “the three first words are metaphorical, and the fourth, +lagged, is the old genuine Norse term, lagda, which signifies +laid, whether in durance, or in bed, has nothing to do with the +matter. What you have told me confirms me in an opinion +which I have long entertained, that thieves’ Latin is a +strange mysterious speech, formed of metaphorical terms, and +words derived from the various ancient languages. Pray tell +me, now, how the gentleman, your grandfather, contrived to +shorten the coin of these realms?”</p> +<p>“You shall hear,” said the jockey; “but I +have one thing to beg of you, which is, that when I have once +begun my history you will not interrupt me with questions, I +don’t like them, they stops one, and puts one out of +one’s tale, and are not wanted; for anything which I think +can’t be understood, I should myself explain, without being +asked. My grandfather reduced or shortened the coin of this +country by three processes. By aquafortis, by clipping, and +by filing. Filing and clipping he employed in reducing all +sorts of coin, whether gold or silver; but aquafortis he used +merely in reducing gold coin, whether guineas, jacobuses, or +Portugal pieces, otherwise called moidores, which were at one +time as current as guineas. By laying a guinea in +aquafortis for twelve hours, he could filch from it to the value +of ninepence, and by letting it remain there for twenty-four to +the value of eighteenpence, the aquafortis eating the gold away, +and leaving it like a sediment in the vessel. He was +generally satisfied with taking the value of ninepence from a +guinea, of eighteenpence from a jacobus or moidore, or +half-a-crown from a broad Spanish piece, whether he reduced them +by aquafortis, filing, or clipping. From a five-shilling +piece, which is called a bull in Latin because it is round like a +bull’s head, he would file or clip to the value of +fivepence, and from lesser coin in proportion. He was +connected with a numerous gang, or set, of people, who had given +up their minds and talents entirely to shortening.”</p> +<p>Here I interrupted the jockey. “How +singular,” said I, “is the fall and debasement of +words; you talk of a gang, or set, of shorters; you are, perhaps, +not aware that gang and set were, a thousand years ago, only +connected with the great and Divine; they are ancient Norse +words, which may be found in the heroic poems of the north, and +in the Edda, a collection of mythologic and heroic songs. +In these poems we read that such and such a king invaded Norway +with a gang of heroes; or so and so, for example, Erik Bloodaxe, +was admitted to the set of gods; but at present gang and set are +merely applied to the vilest of the vile, and the lowest of the +low,—we say a gang of thieves and shorters, or a set of +authors. How touching is this debasement of words in the +course of time; it puts me in mind of the decay of old houses and +names. I have known a Mortimer who was a hedger and +ditcher, a Berners who was born in a workhouse, and a descendant +of the De Burghs, who bore the falcon, mending old kettles, and +making horse and pony shoes in a dingle.”</p> +<p>“Odd enough,” said the jockey; “but you were +saying you knew one Berners—man or woman? I would +ask.”</p> +<p>“A woman,” said I.</p> +<p>“What might her Christian name be?” said the +jockey.</p> +<p>“It is not to be mentioned lightly,” said I, with +a sigh.</p> +<p>“I shouldn’t wonder if it were Isopel,” said +the jockey with an arch glance of his one brilliant eye.</p> +<p>“It was Isopel,” said I; “did you know +Isopel Berners?”</p> +<p>“Ay, and have reason to know her,” said the +jockey, putting his hand into his left waistcoat pocket, as if to +feel for something, “for she gave me what I believe few men +could do—a most confounded whopping. But now, Mr. +Romany Rye, I have again to tell you that I don’t like to +be interrupted when I’m speaking, and to add that if you +break in upon me a third time, you and I shall +quarrel.”</p> +<p>“Pray proceed with your story,” said I; “I +will not interrupt you again.”</p> +<p>“Good!” said the jockey. “Where was +I? Oh, with a set of people who had given up their minds to +shortening! Reducing the coin, though rather a lucrative, +was a very dangerous trade. Coin filed felt rough to the +touch; coin clipped could be easily detected by the eye; and as +for coin reduced by aquafortis, it was generally so discoloured +that, unless a great deal of pains was used to polish it, people +were apt to stare at it in a strange manner, and to say, +‘What have they been doing to this here gold?’ +My grandfather, as I have said before, was connected with a gang +of shorters, and sometimes shortened money, and at other times +passed off what had been shortened by other gentry.</p> +<p>“Passing off what had been shortened by others was his +ruin; for once, in trying to pass off a broad piece which had +been laid in aquafortis for four-and-twenty hours, and was very +black, not having been properly rectified, he was stopped and +searched, and other reduced coins being found about him, and in +his lodgings, he was committed to prison, tried, and +executed. He was offered his life, provided he would betray +his comrades; but he told the big-wigs, who wanted him to do so, +that he would see them farther first, and died at Tyburn, amidst +the cheers of the populace, leaving my grandmother and father, to +whom he had always been a kind husband and parent—for, +setting aside the crime for which he suffered, he was a moral +man; leaving them, I say, to bewail his irreparable loss.</p> +<p>“’Tis said that misfortune never comes alone; this +is, however, not always the case. Shortly after my +grandfather’s misfortune, as my grandmother and her son +were living in great misery in Spitalfields, her only +relation—a brother from whom she had been estranged some +years, on account of her marriage with my grandfather, who had +been in an inferior station to herself—died, leaving all +his property to her and the child. This property consisted +of a farm of about a hundred acres, with its stock, and some +money besides. My grandmother, who knew something of +business, instantly went into the country, where she farmed the +property for her own benefit and that of her son, to whom she +gave an education suitable to a person in his condition, till he +was old enough to manage the farm himself. Shortly after +the young man came of age, my grandmother died, and my father, in +about a year, married the daughter of a farmer, from whom he +expected some little fortune, but who very much deceived him, +becoming a bankrupt almost immediately after the marriage of his +daughter, and himself and family going into the workhouse.</p> +<p>“My mother, however, made my father an excellent wife; +and if my father in the long run did not do well it was no fault +of hers. My father was not a bad man by nature, he was of +an easy, generous temper, the most unfortunate temper, by the +bye, for success in this life that any person can be possessed +of, as those who have it are almost sure to be made dupes of by +the designing. But, though easy and generous, he was +anything but a fool; he had a quick and witty tongue of his own +when he chose to exert it, and woe be to those who insulted him +openly, for there was not a better boxer in the whole country +round. My parents were married several years before I came +into the world, who was their first and only child. I may +be called an unfortunate creature; I was born with this beam or +scale on my left eye, which does not allow me to see with it; and +though I can see tolerably sharply with the other, indeed more +than most people can with both of theirs, it is a great +misfortune not to have two eyes like other people. +Moreover, setting aside the affair of my eye, I had a very ugly +countenance; my mouth being slightly wrung aside, and my +complexion swarthy. In fact, I looked so queer that the +gossips and neighbours, when they first saw me, swore I was a +changeling—perhaps it would have been well if I had never +been born; for my poor father, who had been particularly anxious +to have a son, no sooner saw me than he turned away, went to the +neighbouring town, and did not return for two days. I am by +no means certain that I was not the cause of his ruin, for till I +came into the world he was fond of his home, and attended much to +business, but afterwards he went frequently into company, and did +not seem to care much about his affairs: he was, however, a kind +man, and when his wife gave him advice never struck her, nor do I +ever remember that he kicked me when I came in his way, or so +much as cursed my ugly face, though it was easy to see that he +didn’t over-like me. When I was six years old I was +sent to the village-school, where I was soon booked for a dunce, +because the master found it impossible to teach me either to read +or write. Before I had been at school two years, however, I +had beaten boys four years older than myself, and could fling a +stone with my left hand (for if I am right-eyed I am left-handed) +higher and farther than any one in the parish. Moreover, no +boy could equal me at riding, and no people ride so well or +desperately as boys. I could ride a donkey—a thing +far more difficult to ride than a horse—at full gallop over +hedges and ditches, seated, or rather floating upon his hinder +part,—so, though anything but clever, as this here Romany +Rye would say, I was yet able to do things which few other people +could do. By the time I was ten my father’s affairs +had got into a very desperate condition, for he had taken to +gambling and horse-racing, and, being unsuccessful, had sold his +stock, mortgaged his estate, and incurred very serious +debts. The upshot was, that within a little time all he had +was seized, himself imprisoned, and my mother and myself put into +a cottage belonging to the parish, which, being very cold and +damp, was the cause of her catching a fever, which speedily +carried her off. I was then bound apprentice to a farmer, +in whose service I underwent much coarse treatment, cold, and +hunger.</p> +<p>“After lying in prison near two years, my father was +liberated by an Act for the benefit of insolvent debtors; he was +then lost sight of for some time; at last, however, he made his +appearance in the neighbourhood dressed like a gentleman, and +seemingly possessed of plenty of money. He came to see me, +took me into a field, and asked me how I was getting on. I +told him I was dreadfully used, and begged him to take me away +with him; he refused, and told me to be satisfied with my +condition, for that he could do nothing for me. I had a +great love for my father, and likewise a great admiration for him +on account of his character as a boxer, the only character which +boys in general regard, so I wished much to be with him, +independently of the dog’s life I was leading where I was; +I therefore said if he would not take me with him, I would follow +him; he replied that I must do no such thing, for that if I did, +it would be my ruin. I asked him what he meant, but he made +no reply, only saying that he would go and speak to the +farmer. Then taking me with him, he went to the farmer, and +in a very civil manner said that he understood I had not been +very kindly treated by him, but he hoped that in future I should +be used better. The farmer answered in a surly tone, that I +had been only too well treated, for that I was a worthless young +scoundrel; high words ensued, and the farmer, forgetting the kind +of man he had to deal with, checked him with my grandsire’s +misfortune, and said he deserved to be hanged like his +father. In a moment my father knocked him down, and on his +getting up, gave him a terrible beating, then taking me by the +hand he hastened away; as we were going down a lane he said we +were now both done for: ‘I don’t care a straw for +that, father,’ said I, ‘provided I be with +you.’ My father took me to the neighbouring town, and +going into the yard of a small inn, he ordered out a pony and +light cart which belonged to him, then paying his bill, he told +me to mount upon the seat, and getting up drove away like +lightning; we drove for at least six hours without stopping, till +we came to a cottage by the side of a heath; we put the pony and +cart into a shed, and went into the cottage, my father unlocking +the door with a key which he took out of his pocket; there was +nobody in the cottage when we arrived, but shortly after there +came a man and a woman, and then some more people, and by ten +o’clock at night there were a dozen of us in the +cottage. The people were companions of my father. My +father began talking to them in Latin, but I did not understand +much of the discourse, though I believe it was about myself, as +their eyes were frequently turned to me. Some objections +appeared to be made to what he said; however, all at last seemed +to be settled, and we all sat down to some food. After +that, all the people got up and went away, with the exception of +the woman, who remained with my father and me. The next day +my father also departed, leaving me with the woman, telling me +before he went that she would teach me some things which it +behoved me to know. I remained with her in the cottage +upwards of a week; several of those who had been there coming and +going. The woman, after making me take an oath to be +faithful, told me that the people whom I had seen were a gang who +got their livelihood by passing forged notes, and that my father +was a principal man amongst them, adding, that I must do my best +to assist them. I was a poor ignorant child at that time, +and I made no objection, thinking that whatever my father did +must be right; the woman then gave me some instructions in the +smasher’s dialect of the Latin language. I made great +progress, because, for the first time in my life, I paid great +attention to my lessons. At last my father returned, and, +after some conversation with the woman, took me away in his +cart. I shall be very short about what happened to my +father and myself during two years. My father did his best +to smash the Bank of England by passing forged notes, and I did +my best to assist him. We attended races and fairs in all +kinds of disguises; my father was a first-rate hand at a +disguise, and could appear of all ages, from twenty to fourscore; +he was, however, grabbed at last. He had said, as I have +told you, that he should be my ruin, but I was the cause of his, +and all owing to the misfortune of this here eye of mine. +We came to this very place of Horncastle, where my father +purchased two horses of a young man, paying for them with three +forged notes, purporting to be Bank of Englanders of fifty pounds +each, and got the young man to change another of the like amount; +he at that time appeared as a respectable dealer, and I as his +son, as I really was.</p> +<p>“As soon as we had got the horses, we conveyed them to +one of the places of call belonging to our gang, of which there +were several. There they were delivered into the hands of +our companions, who speedily sold them in a distant part of the +country. The sum which they fetched—for the gang kept +very regular accounts—formed an important item on the next +day of sharing, of which there were twelve in the year. The +young man, whom my father had paid for the horses with his +smashing notes, was soon in trouble about them, and ran some +risk, as I heard, of being executed; but he bore a good +character, told a plain story, and, above all, had friends, and +was admitted to bail; to one of his friends he described my +father and myself. This person happened to be at an inn in +Yorkshire, where my father, disguised as a Quaker, attempted to +pass a forged note. The note was shown to this individual, +who pronounced it a forgery, it being exactly similar to those +for which the young man had been in trouble, and which he had +seen. My father, however, being supposed a respectable man, +because he was dressed as a Quaker—the very reason, by the +bye, why anybody who knew aught of the Quakers would have +suspected him to be a rogue—would have been let go, had I +not made my appearance, dressed as his footboy. The friend +of the young man looked at my eye, and seized hold of my father, +who made a desperate resistance, I assisting him, as in duty +bound. Being, however, overpowered by numbers, he bade me +by a look, and a word or two in Latin, to make myself +scarce. Though my heart was fit to break, I obeyed my +father, who was speedily committed. I followed him to the +county town in which he was lodged, where shortly after I saw him +tried, convicted, and condemned. I then, having made +friends with the jailor’s wife, visited him in his cell, +where I found him very much cast down. He said, that my +mother had appeared to him in a dream, and talked to him about a +resurrection and Christ Jesus; there was a Bible before him, and +he told me the chaplain had just been praying with him. He +reproached himself much, saying, he was afraid he had been my +ruin, by teaching me bad habits. I told him not to say any +such thing, for that I had been the cause of his, owing to the +misfortune of my eye. He begged me to give over all +unlawful pursuits, saying, that if persisted in, they were sure +of bringing a person to destruction. I advised him to try +and make his escape, proposing, that when the turnkey came to let +me out, he should knock him down, and fight his way out, offering +to assist him; showing him a small saw, with which one of our +companions, who was in the neighbourhood, had provided me, and +with which he could have cut through his fetters in five minutes; +but he told me he had no wish to escape, and was quite willing to +die. I was rather hard at that time; I am not very soft +now; and I felt rather ashamed of my father’s want of what +I called spirit. He was not executed after all; for the +chaplain, who was connected with a great family, stood his +friend, and got his sentence commuted, as they call it, to +transportation; and in order to make the matter easy, he induced +my father to make some valuable disclosures with respect to the +smashers’ system. I confess that I would have been +hanged before I would have done so, after having reaped the +profit of it; that is, I think so now, seated comfortably in my +inn, with my bottle of champagne before me. He, however, +did not show himself carrion; he would not betray his companions, +who had behaved very handsomely to him, having given the son of a +lord, a great barrister, not a hundred-pound forged bill, but a +hundred hard guineas, to plead his cause, and another ten, to +induce him, after pleading, to put his hand to his breast, and +say, that, upon his honour, he believed the prisoner at the bar +to be an honest and injured man. No; I am glad to be able +to say, that my father did not show himself exactly carrion, +though I could almost have wished he had let himself— +However, I am here with my bottle of champagne and the Romany +Rye, and he was in his cell, with bread and water and the prison +chaplain. He took an affectionate leave of me before he was +sent away, giving me three out of five guineas, all the money he +had left. He was a kind man, but not exactly fitted to fill +my grandfather’s shoes. I afterwards learned that he +died of fever, as he was being carried across the sea.</p> +<p>“During the ’sizes I had made acquaintance with +old Fulcher. I was in the town on my father’s +account, and he was there on his son’s, who, having +committed a small larceny, was in trouble. Young Fulcher, +however, unlike my father, got off, though he did not give the +son of a lord a hundred guineas to speak for him, and ten more to +pledge his sacred honour for his honesty, but gave Counsellor +P--- one-and-twenty shillings to defend him, who so frightened +the principal evidence, a plain honest farming-man, that he +flatly contradicted what he had first said, and at last +acknowledged himself to be all the rogues in the world, and, +amongst other things, a perjured villain. Old Fulcher, +before he left the town with his son,—and here it will be +well to say that he and his son left it in a kind of triumph, the +base drummer of a militia regiment, to whom they had given +half-a-crown, beating his drum before them—old Fulcher, I +say, asked me to go and visit him, telling me where, at such a +time, I might find him and his caravan and family; offering, if I +thought fit, to teach me basket-making: so, after my father had +been sent off, I went and found up old Fulcher, and became his +apprentice in the basket-making line. I stayed with him +till the time of his death, which happened in about three months, +travelling about with him and his family, and living in green +lanes, where we saw gypsies and trampers, and all kinds of +strange characters. Old Fulcher, besides being an +industrious basket-maker, was an out-and-out thief, as was also +his son, and, indeed, every member of his family. They used +to make baskets during the day, and thieve during a great part of +the night. I had not been with them twelve hours before old +Fulcher told me that I must thieve as well as the rest. I +demurred at first, for I remembered the fate of my father, and +what he had told me about leaving off bad courses, but soon +allowed myself to be over-persuaded; more especially as the first +robbery I was asked to do was a fruit robbery. I was to go +with young Fulcher, and steal some fine Morell cherries, which +grew against a wall in a gentleman’s garden; so young +Fulcher and I went and stole the cherries, one half of which we +ate, and gave the rest to the old man, who sold them to a +fruiterer ten miles off from the place where we had stolen +them. The next night old Fulcher took me out with +himself. He was a great thief, though in a small way. +He used to say, that they were fools, who did not always manage +to keep the rope below their shoulders, by which he meant, that +it was not advisable to commit a robbery, or do anything which +could bring you to the gallows. He was all for petty +larceny, and knew where to put his hand upon any little thing in +England, which it was possible to steal. I submit it to the +better judgment of the Romany Rye, who I see is a great hand for +words and names, whether he ought not to have been called old +Filcher, instead of Fulcher. I shan’t give a regular +account of the larcenies he committed during the short time I +knew him, either alone by himself, or with me and his son. +I shall merely relate the last.</p> +<p>“A melancholy gentleman, who lived a very solitary life, +had a large carp in a shady pond in a meadow close to his house; +he was exceedingly fond of it, and used to feed it with his own +hand, the creature being so tame that it would put its snout out +of the water to be fed when it was whistled to; feeding and +looking at his carp were the only pleasures the poor melancholy +gentleman possessed. Old Fulcher—being in the +neighbourhood, and having an order from a fishmonger for a large +fish, which was wanted at a great city dinner, at which His +Majesty was to be present—swore he would steal the carp, +and asked me to go with him. I had heard of the +gentleman’s fondness for his creature, and begged him to +let it be, advising him to go and steal some other fish; but old +Fulcher swore, and said he would have the carp, although its +master should hang himself; I told him he might go by himself, +but he took his son and stole the carp, which weighed seventeen +pounds. Old Fulcher got thirty shillings for the carp, +which I afterwards heard was much admired and relished by His +Majesty. The master, however, of the carp, on losing his +favourite, became more melancholy than ever, and in a little time +hanged himself. ‘What’s sport for one, is death +to another,’ I once heard at the village-school read out of +a copy-book.</p> +<p>“This was the last larceny old Fulcher ever +committed. He could keep his neck always out of the noose, +but he could not always keep his leg out of the trap. A few +nights after, having removed to a distance, he went to an osier +car in order to steal some osiers for his basket-making, for he +never bought any. I followed a little way behind. Old +Fulcher had frequently stolen osiers out of the car, whilst in +the neighbourhood, but during his absence the property, of which +the car was a part, had been let to a young gentleman, a great +hand for preserving game. Old Fulcher had not got far into +the car before he put his foot into a man-trap. Hearing old +Fulcher shriek, I ran up, and found him in a dreadful +condition. Putting a large stick which I carried into the +jaws of the trap, I contrived to prize them open, and get old +Fulcher’s leg out, but the leg was broken. So I ran +to the caravan, and told young Fulcher of what had happened, and +he and I helped his father home. A doctor was sent for, who +said that it was necessary to take the leg off, but old Fulcher, +being very much afraid of pain, said it should not be taken off, +and the doctor went away, but after some days, old Fulcher +becoming worse, ordered the doctor to be sent for, who came and +took off his leg, but it was then too late, mortification had +come on, and in a little time old Fulcher died.</p> +<p>“Thus perished old Fulcher; he was succeeded in his +business by his son, young Fulcher, who, immediately after the +death of his father, was called old Fulcher, it being our English +custom to call everybody old, as soon as their fathers are +buried; young Fulcher—I mean he who had been called young, +but was now old Fulcher—wanted me to go out and commit +larcenies with him; but I told him that I would have nothing more +to do with thieving, having seen the ill effects of it, and that +I should leave them in the morning. Old Fulcher begged me +to think better of it, and his mother joined with him. They +offered, if I would stay, to give me Mary Fulcher as a mort, till +she and I were old enough to be regularly married, she being the +daughter of the one, and the sister of the other. I liked +the girl very well, for she had always been civil to me, and had +a fair complexion and nice red hair, both of which I like, being +a bit of a black myself; but I refused, being determined to see +something more of the world than I could hope to do with the +Fulchers, and, moreover, to live honestly, which I could never do +along with them. So the next morning I left them: I was, as +I said before, quite determined upon an honest livelihood, and I +soon found one. He is a great fool who is ever dishonest in +England. Any person who has any natural gift, and everybody +has some natural gift, is sure of finding encouragement in this +noble country of ours, provided he will but exhibit it. I +had not walked more than three miles before I came to a +wonderfully high church steeple, which stood close by the road; I +looked at the steeple, and going to a heap of smooth pebbles +which lay by the roadside, I took up some, and then went into the +churchyard, and placing myself just below the tower, my right +foot resting on a ledge, about two foot from the ground, I, with +my left hand—being a left-handed person, do you +see—flung or chucked up a stone, which, lighting on the top +of the steeple, which was at least a hundred and fifty feet high, +did there remain. After repeating this feat two or three +times, I ‘hulled’ up a stone, which went clean over +the tower, and then one, my right foot still on the ledge, which +rising at least five yards above the steeple, did fall down just +at my feet. Without knowing it, I was showing off my gift +to others besides myself, doing what, perhaps, not five men in +England could do. Two men, who were passing by, stopped and +looked at my proceedings, and when I had done flinging came into +the churchyard, and, after paying me a compliment on what they +had seen me do, proposed that I should join company with them; I +asked them who they were, and they told me. The one was +Hopping Ned, and the other Biting Giles. Both had their +gifts, by which they got their livelihood; Ned could hop a +hundred yards with any man in England, and Giles could lift up +with his teeth any dresser or kitchen-table in the country, and, +standing erect, hold it dangling in his jaws. There’s +many a big oak table and dresser in certain districts of England, +which bear the marks of Giles’s teeth; and I make no doubt +that, a hundred or two years hence, there’ll be strange +stories about those marks, and that people will point them out as +a proof that there were giants in bygone time, and that many a +dentist will moralize on the decays which human teeth have +undergone.</p> +<p>“They wanted me to go about with them, and exhibit my +gift occasionally, as they did theirs, promising that the money +that was got by the exhibitions should be honestly divided. +I consented, and we set off together, and that evening coming to +a village, and putting up at the ale-house, all the grand folks +of the village being there smoking their pipes, we contrived to +introduce the subject of hopping—the upshot being that Ned +hopped against the school-master for a pound, and beat him +hollow; shortly after, Giles, for a wager, took up the kitchen +table in his jaws, though he had to pay a shilling to the +landlady for the marks he left, whose grandchildren will perhaps +get money by exhibiting them. As for myself, I did nothing +that day, but the next, on which my companions did nothing, I +showed off at hulling stones against a cripple, the crack man for +stone-throwing, of a small town, a few miles farther on. +Bets were made to the tune of some pounds; I contrived to beat +the cripple, and just contrived; for to do him justice I must +acknowledge he was a first-rate hand at stones, though he had a +game hip, and went sideways; his head, when he walked—if +his movements could be called walking—not being above three +feet above the ground. So we travelled, I and my +companions, showing off our gifts, Giles and I occasionally for a +gathering, but Ned never hopping, unless against somebody for a +wager. We lived honestly and comfortably, making no little +money by our natural endowments, and were known over a great part +of England as ‘Hopping Ned,’ ‘Biting +Giles,’ and ‘Hull over the Head Jack,’ which +was my name, it being the blackguard fashion of the English, do +you see, to—”</p> +<p>Here I interrupted the jockey. “You may call it a +blackguard fashion,” said I, “and I dare say it is, +or it would scarcely be English; but it is an immensely ancient +one, and is handed down to us from our northern ancestry, +especially the Danes, who were in the habit of giving people +surnames, or rather nicknames, from some quality of body or mind, +but generally from some disadvantageous peculiarity of feature; +for there is no denying that the English, Norse, or whatever we +may please to call them, are an envious, depreciatory set of +people, who not only give their poor comrades contemptuous names, +but their great people also. They didn’t call you the +matchless Hurler, because, by doing so, they would have paid you +a compliment, but Hull over the Head Jack, as much as to say that +after all you were a scrub; so, in ancient time, instead of +calling Regner the great conqueror, the Nation Tamer, they +surnamed him Lodbrog, which signifies Rough or Hairy +Breeks—lod or loddin signifying rough or hairy; and instead +of complimenting Halgerdr, the wife of Gunnar of Hlitharend, the +great champion of Iceland, upon her majestic presence, by calling +her Halgerdr, the stately or tall; what must they do but term her +Ha-brokr, or Highbreeks, it being the fashion in old times for +Northern ladies to wear breeks, or breeches, which English ladies +of the present day never think of doing; and just, as of old, +they called Halgerdr Long-breeks, so this very day a fellow of +Horncastle called, in my hearing, our noble-looking Hungarian +friend here, Long-stockings. Oh, I could give you a hundred +instances, both ancient and modern, of this unseemly propensity +of our illustrious race, though I will only trouble you with a +few more ancient ones; they not only nicknamed Regner, but his +sons also, who were all kings, and distinguished men: one, whose +name was Biorn, they nicknamed Ironsides; another, Sigurd, Snake +in the Eye; another, White Sark, or White Shirt—I wonder +they did not call him Dirty Shirt; and Ivarr, another, who was +king of Northumberland, they called Bienlausi, or the Legless, +because he was spindle-shanked, had no sap in his bones, and +consequently no children. He was a great king, it is true, +and very wise, nevertheless his blackguard countrymen, always +averse, as their descendants are, to give credit to anybody, for +any valuable quality or possession, must needs lay hold, do you +see—”</p> +<p>But before I could say any more, the jockey, having laid down +his pipe, rose, and having taken off his coat, advanced towards +me.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XLII</h2> +<p>A Short-tempered Person—Gravitation—The Best +Endowment—Mary Fulcher—Fair +Dealing—Horse-witchery—Darius and his Groom—The +Jockey’s Tricks—The Two Characters—The +Jockey’s Song.</p> +<p>The jockey, having taken off his coat and advanced towards me, +as I have stated in the preceding chapter, exclaimed, in an angry +tone, “This is the third time you have interrupted me in my +tale, Mr. Rye; I passed over the two first times with a simple +warning, but you will now please to get up and give me the +satisfaction of a man.”</p> +<p>“I am really sorry,” said I, “if I have +given you offence, but you were talking of our English habits of +bestowing nicknames, and I could not refrain from giving a few +examples tending to prove what a very ancient habit it +is.”</p> +<p>“But you interrupted me,” said the jockey, +“and put me out of my tale, which you had no right to do; +and as for your examples, how do you know that I wasn’t +going to give some as old or older than yourn? Now stand +up, and I’ll make an example of you.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said I, “I confess it was wrong in +me to interrupt you, and I ask your pardon.”</p> +<p>“That won’t do,” said the jockey, +“asking pardon won’t do.”</p> +<p>“Oh,” said I, getting up, “if asking pardon +does not satisfy you, you are a different man from what I +considered you.”</p> +<p>But here the Hungarian, also getting up, interposed his tall +form and pipe between us, saying in English, scarcely +intelligible, “Let there be no dispute! As for +myself, I am very much obliged to the young man of Horncastle for +his interruption, though he has told me that one of his dirty +townsmen called me ‘Long-stocking.’ By Isten! +there is more learning in what he has just said than in all the +verdammt English histories of Thor and Tzernebock I ever +read.”</p> +<p>“I care nothing for his learning,” said the +jockey. “I consider myself as good a man as he, for +all his learning; so stand out of the way, Mr. Sixfooteleven, +or—”</p> +<p>“I shall do no such thing,” said the +Hungarian. “I wonder you are not ashamed of +yourself. You ask a young man to drink champagne with you, +you make him dronk, he interrupt you with very good sense; he ask +your pardon, yet you not—”</p> +<p>“Well,” said the jockey, “I am +satisfied. I am rather a short-tempered person, but I bear +no malice. He is, as you say, drinking my wine, and has +perhaps taken a drop too much, not being used to such high +liquor; but one doesn’t like to be put out of one’s +tale, more especially when one was about to moralize, do you see, +oneself, and to show off what little learning one has. +However, I bears no malice. Here is a hand to each of you; +we’ll take another glass each, and think no more about +it.”</p> +<p>The jockey having shaken both of our hands, and filled our +glasses and his own with what champagne remained in the bottle, +put on his coat, sat down, and resumed his pipe and story.</p> +<p>“Where was I? Oh, roaming about the country with +Hopping Ned and Biting Giles. Those were happy days, and a +merry and prosperous life we led. However, nothing +continues under the sun in the same state in which it begins, and +our firm was soon destined to undergo a change. We came to +a village where there was a very high church steeple, and in a +little time my comrades induced a crowd of people to go and see +me display my gift by flinging stones above the heads of Matthew, +Mark, Luke and John, who stood at the four corners on the top, +carved in stone. The parson, seeing the crowd, came +waddling out of his rectory to see what was going on. After +I had flung up the stones, letting them fall just where I +liked—and one, I remember, fell on the head of Mark, where +I dare say it remains to the present day—the parson, who +was one of the description of people called philosophers, held up +his hand, and asked me to let the next stone I flung up fall upon +it. He wished, do you see, to know with what weight the +stone would fall down, and talked something about +gravitation—a word which I could never understand to the +present day, save that it turned out a grave matter to me. +I, like a silly fellow myself, must needs consent, and, flinging +the stone up to a vast height, contrived so that it fell into the +parson’s hand, which it cut dreadfully. The parson +flew into a great rage, more particularly as everybody laughed at +him, and, being a magistrate, ordered his clerk, who was likewise +constable, to conduct me to prison as a rogue and vagabond, +telling my comrades that if they did not take themselves off, he +would serve them in the same manner. So Ned hopped off, and +Giles ran after him, without making any gathering, and I was led +to Bridewell, my mittimus following at the end of a week, the +parson’s hand not permitting him to write before that +time. In the Bridewell I remained a month, when, being +dismissed, I went in quest of my companions, whom, after some +time, I found up, but they refused to keep my company any longer; +telling me that I was a dangerous character, likely to bring them +more trouble than profit; they had, moreover, filled up my +place. Going into a cottage to ask for a drink of water, +they saw a country fellow making faces to amuse his children; the +faces were so wonderful that Hopping Ned and Biting Giles at once +proposed taking him into partnership, and the man—who was a +fellow not very fond of work—after a little entreaty, went +away with them. I saw him exhibit his gift, and +couldn’t blame the others for preferring him to me; he was +a proper ugly fellow at all times, but when he made faces his +countenance was like nothing human. He was called Ugly +Moses. I was so amazed at his faces, that though poor +myself I gave him sixpence, which I have never grudged to this +day, for I never saw anything like them. The firm throve +wonderfully after he had been admitted into it. He died +some little time ago, keeper of a public-house, which he had been +enabled to take from the profits of his faces. A son of +his, one of the children he was making faces to when my comrades +entered his door, is at present a barrister, and a very rising +one. He has his gift—he has not, it is true, the gift +of the gab, but he has something better, he was born with a grin +on his face, a quiet grin; he would not have done to grin through +a collar like his father, and would never have been taken up by +Hopping Ned and Biting Giles, but that grin of his caused him to +be noticed by a much greater person than either; an attorney +observing it took a liking to the lad, and prophesied that he +would some day be heard of in the world; and in order to give him +the first lift, took him into his office, at first to light fires +and do such kind of work, and after a little time taught him to +write, then promoted him to a desk, articled him afterwards, and +being unmarried, and without children, left him what he had when +he died. The young fellow, after practising at the law some +time, went to the bar, where, in a few years, helped on by his +grin, for he had nothing else to recommend him, he became, as I +said before, a rising barrister. He comes our circuit, and +I occasionally employ him, when I am obliged to go to law about +such a thing as an unsound horse. He generally brings me +through—or rather that grin of his does—and yet I +don’t like the fellow, confound him, but I’m an +oddity—no, the one I like, and whom I generally employ, is +a fellow quite different, a bluff sturdy dog, with no grin on his +face, but with a look that seems to say I am an honest man, and +what cares I for any one? And an honest man he is, and +something more. I have known coves with a better gift of +the gab, though not many, but he always speaks to the purpose, +and understands law thoroughly; and that’s not all. +When at college, for he has been at college, he carried off +everything before him as a Latiner, and was first-rate at a game +they call matthew mattocks. I don’t exactly know what +it is, but I have heard that he who is first-rate at matthew +mattocks is thought more of than if he were first-rate +Latiner.</p> +<p>“Well, the chap that I’m talking about, not only +came out first-rate Latiner, but first-rate at matthew mattocks +too; doing, in fact, as I am told by those who knows, for I was +never at college myself, what no one had ever done before. +Well, he makes his appearance at our circuit, does very well, of +course, but he has a somewhat high front, as becomes an honest +man, and one who has beat every one at Latin and matthew +mattocks; and one who can speak first-rate law and +sense;—but see now, the cove with the grin, who has like +myself never been at college; knows nothing of Latin, or matthew +mattocks, and has no particular gift of the gab, has two briefs +for his one, and I suppose very properly, for that grin of his +curries favour with the juries; and mark me, that grin of his +will enable him to beat the other in the long run. We all +know what all barrister coves looks forward to—a seat on +the hop sack. Well, I’ll bet a bull to fivepence, +that the grinner gets upon it, and the snarler doesn’t; at +any rate, that he gets there first. I calls my +cove—for he is my cove—a snarler; because your +first-rates at matthew mattocks are called snarlers, and for no +other reason; for the chap, though with a high front, is a good +chap, and once drank a glass of ale with me, after buying an +animal out of my stable. I have often thought it a pity he +wasn’t born with a grin on his face like the son of Ugly +<i>Moses</i>. It is true he would scarcely then have been +an out and outer at Latin and matthew mattocks, but what need of +either to a chap born with a grin? Talk of being born with +a silver spoon in one’s mouth! give me a cove born with a +grin on his face—a much better endowment.</p> +<p>“I will now shorten my history as much as I can, for we +have talked as much as folks do during a whole night in the +Commons’ House, though, of course, not with so much +learning, or so much to the purpose, because—why? +They are in the House of Commons, and we in a public room of an +inn at Horncastle. The goodness of the ale, do ye see, +never depending on what it is made of, oh, no! but on the fashion +and appearance of the jug in which it is served up. After +being turned out of the firm, I got my living in two or three +honest ways, which I shall not trouble you with describing. +I did not like any of them, however, as they did not exactly suit +my humour; at last I found one which did. One Saturday +afternoon, I chanced to be in the cattle-market of a place about +eighty miles from here; there I won the favour of an old +gentleman who sold dickeys. He had a very shabby squad of +animals, without soul or spirit; nobody would buy them, till I +leaped upon their hinder ends, and by merely wriggling in a +particular manner, made them caper and bound so to people’s +liking, that in a few hours every one of them was sold at very +sufficient prices. The old gentleman was so pleased with my +skill, that he took me home with him, and in a very little time +into partnership. It’s a good thing to have a gift, +but yet better to have two. I might have got a very decent +livelihood by throwing stones, but I much question whether I +should ever have attained to the position in society which I now +occupy, but for my knowledge of animals. I lived very +comfortably with the old gentleman till he died, which he did in +about a fortnight after he had laid his old lady in the +ground. Having no children, he left me what should remain +after he had been buried decently, and the remainder was six +dickeys and thirty shillings in silver. I remained in the +dickey trade ten years, during which time I saved a hundred +pounds. I then embarked in the horse line. One day, +being in the—market on a Saturday, I saw Mary Fulcher with +a halter round her neck, led about by a man, who offered to sell +her for eighteen-pence. I took out the money forthwith and +bought her; the man was her husband, a basket-maker, with whom +she had lived several years without having any children; he was a +drunken, quarrel-some fellow, and having had a dispute with her +the day before, he determined to get rid of her, by putting a +halter round her neck and leading her to the cattle-market, as if +she were a mare, which he had, it seems, a right to do;—all +women being considered mares by old English law, and, indeed, +still called mares in certain counties, where genuine old English +is still preserved. That same afternoon, the man who had +been her husband, having got drunk in a public-house, with the +money which he had received for her, quarrelled with another man, +and receiving a blow under the ear, fell upon the floor, and died +of artiflex; and in less than three weeks I was married to Mary +Fulcher, by virtue of regular bans. I am told she was +legally my property by virtue of my having bought her with a +halter round her neck; but, to tell you the truth, I think +everybody should live by his trade, and I didn’t wish to +act shabbily towards our parson, who is a good fellow, and has +certainly a right to his fees. A better wife than Mary +Fulcher—I mean Mary Dale—no one ever had; she has +borne me several children, and has at all times shown a +willingness to oblige me, and to be my faithful wife. +Amongst other things, I begged her to have done with her family, +and I believe she has never spoken to them since.</p> +<p>“I have thriven very well in business, and my name is up +as being a person who can be depended on, when folks treats me +handsomely. I always make a point when a gentleman comes to +me, and says, ‘Mr. Dale,’ or ‘John,’ for +I have no objection to be called John by a +gentleman—‘I wants a good horse, and am ready to pay +a good price’—I always makes a point, I say, to +furnish him with an animal worth the money; but when I sees a +fellow, whether he calls himself gentleman or not, wishing to +circumvent me, what does I do? I doesn’t quarrel with +him; not I; but, letting him imagine he is taking me in, I +contrives to sell him a screw for thirty pounds, not worth thirty +shillings. All honest respectable people have at present +great confidence in me, and frequently commissions me to buy them +horses at great fairs like this.</p> +<p>“This short young gentleman was recommended to me by a +great landed proprietor, to whom he bore letters of +recommendation from some great prince in his own country, who had +a long time ago been entertained at the house of the landed +proprietor, and the consequence is, that I brings young six foot +six to Horncastle, and purchases for him the horse of the Romany +Rye. I don’t do these kind things for nothing, it is +true; that can’t be expected; for every one must live by +his trade; but, as I said before, when I am treated handsomely, I +treat folks so. Honesty, I have discovered, as perhaps some +other people have, is by far the best policy; though, as I also +said before, when I’m along with thieves, I can beat them +at their own game. If I am obliged to do it, I can pass off +the veriest screw as a flying drummedary, for even when I was a +child I had found out by various means what may be done with +animals. I wish now to ask a civil question, Mr. Romany +Rye. Certain folks have told me that you are a horse witch; +are you one, or are you not?”</p> +<p>“I, like yourself,” said I, “know, to a +certain extent, what may be done with animals.”</p> +<p>“Then how would you, Mr. Romany Rye, pass off the +veriest screw in the world for a flying drummedary?”</p> +<p>“By putting a small live eel down his throat; as long as +the eel remained in his stomach, the horse would appear brisk and +lively in a surprising degree.”</p> +<p>“And how would you contrive to make a regular kicker and +biter appear so tame and gentle, that any respectable fat old +gentleman of sixty, who wanted an easy goer, would be glad to +purchase him for fifty pounds?”</p> +<p>“By pouring down his throat four pints of generous old +ale, which would make him so happy and comfortable, that he would +not have the heart to kick or bite anybody, for a season at +least.”</p> +<p>“And where did you learn all this?” said the +jockey.</p> +<p>“I have read about the eel in an old English book, and +about the making drunk in a Spanish novel, and, singularly +enough, I was told the same things by a wild blacksmith in +Ireland. Now tell me, do you bewitch horses in this +way?”</p> +<p>“I?” said the jockey; “mercy upon us! +I wouldn’t do such things for a hatful of money. No, +no, preserve me from live eels and hocussing! And now let +me ask you, how would you spirit a horse out of a +field?”</p> +<p>“How would I spirit a horse out of a field?”</p> +<p>“Yes; supposing you were down in the world, and had +determined on taking up the horse-stealing line of +business.”</p> +<p>“Why, I should— But I tell you what, friend, I see +you are trying to pump me, and I tell you plainly that I will +hear something from you with respect to your art, before I tell +you anything more. Now how would you whisper a horse out of +a field, provided you were down in the world, and so +forth?”</p> +<p>“Ah, ah, I see you are up to a game, Mr. Romany: +however, I am a gentleman in mind, if not by birth, and I scorn +to do the unhandsome thing to anybody who has dealt fairly +towards me. Now you told me something I didn’t know, +and I’ll tell you something which perhaps you do +know. I whispers a horse out of a field in this way: I have +a mare in my stable; well, in the early season of the year I goes +into my stable—Well, I puts the sponge into a small bottle +which I keeps corked. I takes my bottle in my hand, and +goes into a field, suppose by night, where there is a very fine +stag horse. I manage with great difficulty to get within +ten yards of the horse, who stands staring at me just ready to +run away. I then uncorks my bottle, presses my fore-finger +to the sponge, and holds it out to the horse, the horse gives a +sniff, then a start, and comes nearer. I corks up my bottle +and puts it into my pocket. My business is done, for the +next two hours the horse would follow me anywhere—the +difficulty, indeed, would be to get rid of him. Now is that +your way of doing business?”</p> +<p>“My way of doing business? Mercy upon us! I +wouldn’t steal a horse in that way, or, indeed, in any way, +for all the money in the world: however, let me tell you, for +your comfort, that a trick somewhat similar is described in the +history of Herodotus.”</p> +<p>“In the history of Herod’s ass!” said the +jockey; “well, if I did write a book, it should be about +something more genteel than a dickey.”</p> +<p>“I did not say Herod’s ass,” said I, +“but Herodotus, a very genteel writer, I assure you, who +wrote a history about very genteel people, in a language no less +genteel than Greek, more than two thousand years ago. There +was a dispute as to who should be king amongst certain imperious +chieftains. At last they agreed to obey him whose horse +should neigh first on a certain day, in front of the royal +palace, before the rising of the sun; for you must know that they +did not worship the person who made the sun as we do, but the sun +itself. So one of these chieftains, talking over the matter +to his groom, and saying he wondered who would be king, the +fellow said, ‘Why you, master, or I don’t know much +about horses.’ So the day before the day of trial, +what does the groom do, but take his master’s horse before +the palace and introduce him to a mare in the stable, and then +lead him forth again. Well, early the next day all the +chieftains on their horses appeared in front of the palace before +the dawn of day. Not a horse neighed but one, and that was +the horse of him who had consulted with his groom, who, thinking +of the animal within the stable, gave such a neigh that all the +buildings rang. His rider was forthwith elected king, and a +brave king he was. So this shows what seemingly wonderful +things may be brought about by a little preparation.”</p> +<p>“It doth,” said the jockey; “what was the +chap’s name?”</p> +<p>“His name—his name—Darius +Hystaspes.”</p> +<p>“And the groom’s?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know.”</p> +<p>“And he made a good king?”</p> +<p>“First-rate.”</p> +<p>“Only think! well, if he made a good king, what a +wonderful king the groom would have made, through whose knowledge +of ’orses he was put on the throne. And now another +question, Mr. Romany Rye, have you particular words which have +power to soothe or aggravate horses?”</p> +<p>“You should ask me,” said I, “whether I have +horses that can be aggravated or soothed by particular +words. No words have any particular power over horses or +other animals who have never heard them before—how, should +they? But certain animals connect ideas of misery or +enjoyment with particular words which they are acquainted +with. I’ll give you an example. I knew a cob in +Ireland that could be driven to a state of kicking madness by a +particular word, used by a particular person, in a particular +tone; but that word was connected with a very painful operation +which had been performed upon him by that individual, who had +frequently employed it at a certain period whilst the animal had +been under his treatment. The same cob could be soothed in +a moment by another word, used by the same individual in a very +different kind of tone; the word was deaghblasda, or sweet +tasted. Some time after the operation, whilst the cob was +yet under his hands, the fellow—who was what the Irish call +a fairy smith—had done all he could to soothe the creature, +and had at last succeeded by giving it gingerbread-buttons, of +which the cob became passionately fond. Invariably, +however, before giving it a button, he said, +‘Deaghblasda,’ with which word the cob by degrees +associated an idea of unmixed enjoyment: so if he could rouse the +cob to madness by the word which recalled the torture to its +remembrance, he could as easily soothe it by the other word, +which the cob knew would be instantly followed by the button, +which the smith never failed to give him after using the word +deaghblasda.”</p> +<p>“There is nothing wonderful to be done,” said the +jockey, “without a good deal of preparation, as I know +myself. Folks stare and wonder at certain things which they +would only laugh at if they knew how they were done; and to prove +what I say is true, I will give you one or two examples. +Can either of you lend me a handkerchief? That won’t +do,” said he, as I presented him with a silk one. +“I wish for a delicate white handkerchief. +That’s just the kind of thing,” said he, as the +Hungarian offered him a fine white cambric handkerchief, +beautifully worked with gold at the hems; “now you shall +see me set this handkerchief on fire.” +“Don’t let him do so by any means,” said the +Hungarian, speaking to me in German, “it is the gift of a +lady whom I highly admire, and I would not have it burnt for the +world.” “He has no occasion to be under any +apprehension,” said the jockey, after I had interpreted to +him what the Hungarian had said, “I will restore it to him +uninjured, or my name is not Jack Dale.” Then +sticking the handkerchief carelessly into the left side of his +bosom, he took the candle, which by this time had burnt very low, +and holding his head back, he applied the flame to the +handkerchief, which instantly seemed to catch fire. +“What do you think of that?” said he to the +Hungarian. “Why, that you have ruined me,” said +the latter. “No harm done, I assure you,” said +the jockey, who presently, clapping his hand on his bosom, +extinguished the fire, and returned the handkerchief to the +Hungarian, asking him if it was burnt. “I see no burn +upon it,” said the Hungarian; “but in the name of +Gott, how could you set it on fire without burning +it?” “I never set it on fire at all,” +said the jockey; “I set this on fire,” showing us a +piece of half-burnt calico. “I placed this calico +above it, and lighted not the handkerchief, but the rag. +Now I will show you something else. I have a magic shilling +in my pocket, which I can make run up along my arm. But, +first of all, I would gladly know whether either of you can do +the like.” Thereupon the Hungarian and myself, +putting our hands into our pockets, took out shillings, and +endeavoured to make them run up our arms, but utterly failed; +both shillings, after we had made two or three attempts, falling +to the ground. “What noncomposses you both +are,” said the jockey; and placing a shilling on the end of +the fingers of his right hand he made strange faces to it, +drawing back his head, whereupon the shilling instantly began to +run up his arm, occasionally hopping and jumping as if it were +bewitched, always endeavouring to make towards the head of the +jockey.</p> +<p>“How do I do that?” said he, addressing himself to +me. “I really do not know,” said I, +“unless it is by the motion of your arm.” +“The motion of my nonsense,” said the jockey, and, +making a dreadful grimace, the shilling hopped upon his knee, and +began to run up his thigh and to climb up his breast. +“How is that done?” said he again. “By +witchcraft, I suppose,” said I. “There you are +right,” said the jockey; “by the witchcraft of one of +Miss Berners’ hairs; the end of one of her long hairs is +tied to that shilling by means of a hole in it, and the other end +goes round my neck by means of a loop; so that, when I draw back +my head, the shilling follows it. I suppose you wish to +know how I got the hair,” said he, grinning at me. +“I will tell you. I once, in the course of my +ridings, saw Miss Berners beneath a hedge, combing out her long +hair, and, being rather a modest kind of person, what must I do +but get off my horse, tie him to a gate, go up to her, and +endeavour to enter into conversation with her. After giving +her the sele of the day, and complimenting her on her hair, I +asked her to give me one of the threads; whereupon she gave me +such a look, and, calling me fellow, told me to take myself +off. ‘I must have a hair first,’ said I, making +a snatch at one. I believe I hurt her; but, whether I did +or not, up she started, and, though her hair was unbound, gave me +the only drubbing I ever had in my life. Lor! how, with her +right hand, she fibbed me whilst she held me round the neck with +her left arm; I was soon glad to beg her pardon on my knees, +which she gave me in a moment, when she saw me in that condition, +being the most placable creature in the world, and not only her +pardon, but one of the hairs which I longed for, which I put +through a shilling, with which I have on evenings after fairs, +like this, frequently worked what seemed to those who looked on +downright witchcraft, but which is nothing more than pleasant +deception. And now, Mr. Romany Rye, to testify my regard +for you, I give you the shilling and the hair. I think you +have a kind of respect for Miss Berners; but whether you have or +not, keep them as long as you can, and whenever you look at them +think of the finest woman in England, and of John Dale, the +jockey of Horncastle. I believe I have told you my +history,” said he—“no, not quite; there is one +circumstance I had passed over. I told you that I have +thriven very well in business, and so I have, upon the whole; at +any rate, I find myself comfortably off now. I have horses, +money, and owe nobody a groat; at any rate, nothing but what I +could pay to-morrow. Yet I have had my dreary day, ay, +after I had obtained what I call a station in the world. +All of a sudden, about five years ago, everything seemed to go +wrong with me—horses became sick or died, people who owed +me money broke or ran away, my house caught fire, in fact, +everything went against me; and not from any mismanagement of my +own. I looked round for help, but—what do you +think?—nobody would help me. Somehow or other it had +got abroad that I was in difficulties, and everybody seemed +disposed to avoid me, as if I had got the plague. Those who +were always offering me help when I wanted none, now, when they +thought me in trouble, talked of arresting me. Yes; two +particular friends of mine, who had always been offering me their +purses when my own was stuffed full, now talked of arresting me, +though I only owed the scoundrels a hundred pounds each; and they +would have done so, provided I had not paid them what I owed +them; and how did I do that? Why, I was able to do it +because I found a friend—and who was that friend? +Why, a man who has since been hung, of whom everybody has heard, +and of whom everybody for the next hundred years will +occasionally talk.</p> +<p>“One day, whilst in trouble, I was visited by a person I +had occasionally met at sporting-dinners. He came to look +after a Suffolk Punch, the best horse, by the bye, that anybody +can purchase to drive, it being the only animal of the horse kind +in England that will pull twice at a dead weight. I told +him that I had none at that time that I could recommend; in fact, +that every horse in my stable was sick. He then invited me +to dine with him at an inn close by, and I was glad to go with +him, in the hope of getting rid of unpleasant thoughts. +After dinner, during which he talked nothing but slang, observing +I looked very melancholy, he asked me what was the matter with +me, and I, my heart being opened by the wine he had made me +drink, told him my circumstances without reserve. With an +oath or two for not having treated him at first like a friend, he +said he would soon set me all right; and pulling out two hundred +pounds, told me to pay him when I could. I felt as I never +felt before; however, I took his notes, paid my sneaks, and in +less than three months was right again, and had returned him his +money. On paying it to him, I said that I had now a Punch +which would just suit him, saying that I would give it to +him—a free gift—for nothing. He swore at +me;—telling me to keep my Punch, for that he was suited +already. I begged him to tell me how I could requite him +for his kindness, whereupon, with the most dreadful oath I ever +heard, he bade me come and see him hanged when his time was +come. I wrung his hand, and told him I would, and I kept my +word. The night before the day he was hanged at H---, I +harnessed a Suffolk Punch to my light gig, the same Punch which I +had offered to him, which I have ever since kept, and which +brought me and this short young man to Horncastle, and in eleven +hours I drove that Punch one hundred and ten miles. I +arrived at H--- just in the nick of time. There was the +ugly jail—the scaffold—and there upon it stood the +only friend I ever had in the world. Driving my Punch, +which was all in a foam, into the midst of the crowd, which made +way for me as if it knew what I came for, I stood up in my gig, +took off my hat, and shouted, ‘God Almighty bless you, +Jack!’ The dying man turned his pale grim face +towards me—for his face was always somewhat grim, do you +see—nodded and said, or I thought I heard him say, +‘All right, old chap.’ The next moment—my +eyes water. He had a high heart, got into a scrape whilst +in the marines, lost his half-pay, took to the turf, ring, +gambling, and at last cut the throat of a villain who had robbed +him of nearly all he had. But he had good qualities, and I +know for certain that he never did half the bad things laid to +his charge; for example, he never bribed Tom Oliver to fight +cross, as it was said he did on the day of the awful +thunder-storm. Ned Flatnose fairly beat Tom Oliver, for +though Ned was not what’s called a good fighter, he had a +particular blow, which if he could put in he was sure to +win. His right shoulder, do you see, was two inches farther +back than it ought to have been, and consequently his right fist +generally fell short; but if he could swing himself round, and +put in a blow with that right arm, he could kill or take away the +senses of anybody in the world. It was by putting in that +blow in his second fight with Spring that he beat noble +Tom. Spring beat him like a sack in the first battle, but +in the second Ned Painter—for that was his real +name—contrived to put in his blow, and took the senses out +of Spring; and in like manner he took the senses out of Tom +Oliver.</p> +<p>“Well, some are born to be hanged, and some are not; and +many of those who are not hanged are much worse than those who +are. Jack, with many a good quality, is hanged, whilst that +fellow of a lord, who wanted to get the horse from you at about +two-thirds of his value, without a single good quality in the +world, is not hanged, and probably will remain so. You ask +the reason why, perhaps. I’ll tell you; the lack of a +certain quality called courage, which Jack possessed in +abundance, will preserve him; from the love which he bears his +own neck he will do nothing which can bring him to the +gallows. In my rough way I’ll draw their characters +from their childhood, and then ask whether Jack was not the best +character of the two. Jack was a rough, audacious boy, fond +of fighting, going a birds’-nesting, but I never heard he +did anything particularly cruel save once, I believe, tying a +canister to a butcher’s dog’s tail; whilst this +fellow of a lord was by nature a savage beast, and when a boy +would in winter pluck poor fowls naked, and set them running on +the ice and in the snow, and was particularly fond of burning +cats alive in the fire. Jack, when a lad, gets a commission +on board a ship as an officer of horse marines, and in two or +three engagements behaves quite up to the mark—at least of +a marine; the marines having no particular character for courage, +you know—never having run to the guns and fired them like +madmen after the blue jackets had had more than enough. Oh, +dear me, no! My lord gets into the valorous British army, +where cowardice—Oh, dear me!—is a thing almost +entirely unknown; and being on the field of Waterloo the day +before the battle, falls off his horse, and, pretending to be +hurt in the back, gets himself put on the sick list—a +pretty excuse—hurting his back—for not being present +at such a fight. Old Benbow, after part of both his legs +had been shot away in a sea-fight, made the carpenter make him a +cradle to hold his bloody stumps, and continued on deck, cheering +his men till he died. Jack returns home, and gets into +trouble, and having nothing to subsist by but his wits, gets his +living by the ring and the turf, doing many an odd kind of thing, +I dare say, but not half those laid to his charge. My lord +does much the same without the excuse for doing so which Jack +had, for he had plenty of means, is a leg, and a black, only in a +more polished way, and with more cunning, and I may say success, +having done many a rascally thing never laid to his charge. +Jack at last cuts the throat of a villain who had cheated him of +all he had in the world, and who, I am told, was in many points +the counterpart of this screw and white feather, is taken up, +tried, and executed; and certainly taking away a man’s life +is a dreadful thing; but is there nothing as bad? +Whitefeather will cut no person’s throat—I will not +say who has cheated him, for, being a cheat himself, he will take +good care that nobody cheats him, but he’ll do something +quite as bad; out of envy to a person who never injured him, and +whom he hates for being more clever and respected than himself, +he will do all he possibly can, by backbiting and every unfair +means, to do that person a mortal injury. But Jack is +hanged, and my lord it not. Is that right? My wife, +Mary Fulcher—I beg her pardon, Mary Dale—who is a +Methodist, and has heard the mighty preacher, Peter Williams, +says some people are preserved from hanging by the grace of +God. With her I differs, and says it is from want of +courage. This Whitefeather, with one particle of +Jack’s courage, and with one tithe of his good qualities, +would have been hanged long ago, for he has ten times +Jack’s malignity. Jack was hanged because, along with +his bad qualities, he had courage and generosity; this fellow is +not, because with all Jack’s bad qualities, and many more, +amongst which is cunning, he has neither courage nor +generosity. Think of a fellow like that putting down two +hundred pounds to relieve a distressed fellow-creature; why he +would rob, but for the law and the fear it fills him with, a +workhouse child of its breakfast, as the saying is—and has +been heard to say that he would not trust his own father for +sixpence, and he can’t imagine why such a thing as credit +should be ever given. I never heard a person give him a +good word—stay, stay, yes! I once heard an old +parson, to whom I sold a Punch, say that he had the art of +receiving company gracefully and dismissing them without +refreshment. I don’t wish to be too hard with him, +and so let him make the most of that compliment. Well! he +manages to get on, whilst Jack is hanged; not quite enviably, +however; he has had his rubs, and pretty hard +ones—everybody knows he slunk from Waterloo, and +occasionally checks him with so doing; whilst he has been +rejected by a woman—what a mortification to the low pride +of which the scoundrel has plenty! There’s a song +about both circumstances, which may, perhaps, ring in his ears on +a dying bed. It’s a funny kind of song, set to the +old tune of the Lord-Lieutenant or Deputy, and with it I will +conclude my discourse, for I really think it’s past +one.” The jockey then, with a very tolerable voice, +sung the following song:—</p> +<h3>THE JOCKEY’S SONG.</h3> +<blockquote><p>Now list to a ditty both funny and true!—<br +/> + Merrily moves the dance along—<br /> +A ditty that tells of a coward and screw,<br /> + My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young.</p> +<p>Sir Plume, though not liking a bullet at all,—<br /> + Merrily moves the dance along—<br /> +Had yet resolution to go to a <i>ball</i>,<br /> + My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young.</p> +<p>“Woulez wous danser, mademoiselle?”—<br /> + Merrily moves the dance along;—<br /> +Said she, “Sir, to dance I should like very well,”<br +/> + My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young.</p> +<p>They danc’d to the left, and they danc’d to the +right,—<br /> + Merrily moves the dance along;—<br /> +And her troth the fair damsel bestow’d on the knight,<br /> + My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young.</p> +<p>“Now what shall I fetch you, +mademoiselle?”—<br /> + Merrily moves the dance along;—<br /> +Said she, “Sir, an ice I should like very well,”<br +/> + My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young.</p> +<p>But the ice, when he’d got it, he instantly +ate,—<br /> + Merrily moves the dance along;—<br /> +Although his poor partner was all in a fret,<br /> + My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young.</p> +<p>He ate up the ice like a prudent young lord,—<br /> + Merrily moves the dance along;—<br /> +For he saw ’t was the very last ice on the board,—<br +/> + My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young.</p> +<p>“Now, when shall we marry?” the gentleman +cried;—<br /> + Merrily moves the dance along;—<br /> +“Sir, get you to Jordan,” the damsel replied,<br /> + My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young.</p> +<p>“I never will wed with the pitiful elf”—<br +/> + Merrily moves the dance along—<br /> +“Who ate up the ice which I wanted myself,”<br /> + My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young.</p> +<p>“I’d pardon your backing from red +Waterloo,”—<br /> + Merrily moves the dance along—<br /> +“But I never will wed with a coward and screw,”<br /> + My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young.</p> +</blockquote> +<h2>CHAPTER XLIII</h2> +<p>The Church.</p> +<p>The next morning I began to think of departing; I had sewed up +the money which I had received for the horse in a portion of my +clothing, where I entertained no fears for its safety, with the +exception of a small sum in notes, gold, and silver, which I +carried in my pocket. Ere departing, however, I determined +to stroll about and examine the town, and observe more +particularly the humours of the fair than I had hitherto an +opportunity of doing. The town, when I examined it, offered +no object worthy of attention but its church—an edifice of +some antiquity; under the guidance of an old man, who officiated +as sexton, I inspected its interior attentively, occasionally +conversing with my guide, who, however, seemed much more disposed +to talk about horses than the church. “No good horses +in the fair this time, measter,” said he; “none but +one brought hither by a chap whom nobody knows, and bought by a +foreigneering man, who came here with Jack Dale. The horse +fetched a good swinging price, which is said, however, to be much +less than its worth; for the horse is a regular clipper; not such +a one, ’tis said, has been seen in the fair for several +summers. Lord Whitefeather says that he believes the fellow +who brought him to be a highwayman, and talks of having him taken +up, but Lord Whitefeather is only in a rage because he could not +get him for himself. The chap would not sell it to un; Lord +Screw wanted to beat him down, and the chap took huff, said he +wouldn’t sell it to him at no price, and accepted the offer +of the foreigneering man, or of Jack, who was his +’terpreter, and who scorned to higgle about such a hanimal, +because Jack is a gentleman, though bred a dickey-boy, whilst +t’other, though bred a lord, is a screw and a +whitefeather. Every one says the cove was right, and I says +so too; I likes spirit, and if the cove were here, and in your +place, measter, I would invite him to drink a pint of beer. +Good horses are scarce now, measter, ay, and so are good men, +quite a different set from what there were when I was young; that +was the time for men and horses. Lord bless you, I know all +the breeders about here; they are not a bad set, and they breed a +very fairish set of horses, but they are not like what their +fathers were, nor are their horses like their fathers’ +horses. Now there is Mr. --- the great breeder, a very +fairish man, with very fairish horses; but, Lord bless you, +he’s nothing to what his father was, nor his steeds to his +father’s; I ought to know, for I was at the school here +with his father, and afterwards for many a year helped him to get +up his horses; that was when I was young, measter—those +were the days. You look at that monument, measter,” +said he, as I stopped and looked attentively at a monument on the +southern side of the church near the altar; “that was put +up for a rector of this church, who lived a long time ago, in +Oliver’s time, and was ill-treated and imprisoned by Oliver +and his men; you will see all about it on the monument. +There was a grand battle fought nigh this place, between +Oliver’s men and the Royal party, and the Royal party had +the worst of it, as I’m told they generally had; and +Oliver’s men came into the town, and did a great deal of +damage, and ill-treated the people. I can’t remember +anything about the matter myself, for it happened just one +hundred years before I was born, but my father was acquainted +with an old countryman, who lived not many miles from here, who +said he remembered perfectly well the day of the battle; that he +was a boy at the time, and was working in a field near the place +where the battle was fought; and heard shouting, and noise of +firearms, and also the sound of several balls, which fell in the +field near him. Come this way, measter, and I will show you +some remains of that day’s field.” Leaving the +monument, on which was inscribed an account of the life and +sufferings of the Royalist Rector of Horncastle, I followed the +sexton to the western end of the church, where, hanging against +the wall, were a number of scythes stuck in the ends of +poles. “Those are the weapons, measter,” said +the sexton, “which the great people put into the hands of +the country folks, in order that they might use them against +Oliver’s men; ugly weapons enough; however, Oliver’s +men won, and Sir Jacob Ashley and his party were beat. And +a rare time Oliver and his men had of it, till Oliver died, when +the other party got the better, not by fighting, ’tis said, +but through a General Monk, who turned sides. Ah, the old +fellow that my father knew, said he well remembered the time when +General Monk went over and proclaimed Charles the Second. +Bonfires were lighted everywhere, oxen roasted, and beer drunk by +pailfuls; the country folks were drunk with joy, and something +else; sung scurvy songs about Oliver to the tune of Barney Banks, +and pelted his men, wherever they found them, with stones and +dirt.” “The more ungrateful scoundrels +they,” said I. “Oliver and his men fought the +battle of English independence against a wretched king and +corrupt lords. Had I been living at the time, I should have +been proud to be a trooper of Oliver.” “You +would, measter, would you? Well, I never quarrels with the +opinions of people who come to look at the church, and certainly +independence is a fine thing. I like to see a chap of an +independent spirit, and if I were now to see the cove that +refused to sell his horse to my Lord Screw and Whitefeather, and +let Jack Dale have him, I would offer to treat him to a pint of +beer—e’es, I would, verily. Well, measter, you +have now seen the church, and all there’s in it worth +seeing—so I’ll just lock up, and go and finish +digging the grave I was about when you came, after which I must +go into the fair to see how matters are going on. Thank ye, +measter,” said he, as I put something into his hand; +“thank ye kindly; ’tis not every one who gives me a +shilling now-a-days who comes to see the church, but times are +very different from what they were when I was young; I was not +sexton then, but something better; helped Mr. --- with his +horses, and got many a broad crown. Those were the days, +measter, both for men and horses—and I say, measter, if men +and horses were so much better when I was young than they are +now, what, I wonder, must they have been in the time of Oliver +and his men?”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XLIV</h2> +<p>An Old Acquaintance.</p> +<p>Leaving the church, I strolled through the fair, looking at +the horses, listening to the chaffering of the buyers and +sellers, and occasionally putting in a word of my own, which was +not always received with much deference; suddenly, however, on a +whisper arising that I was the young cove who had brought the +wonderful horse to the fair which Jack Dale had bought for the +foreigneering man, I found myself an object of the greatest +attention; those who had before replied with stuff! and nonsense! +to what I said, now listened with the greatest eagerness to any +nonsense I wished to utter, and I did not fail to utter a great +deal; presently, however, becoming disgusted with the beings +about me, I forced my way, not very civilly, through my crowd of +admirers; and passing through an alley and a back street, at last +reached an outskirt of the fair, where no person appeared to know +me. Here I stood, looking vacantly on what was going on, +musing on the strange infatuation of my species, who judge of a +person’s words, not from their intrinsic merit, but from +the opinion—generally an erroneous one—which they +have formed of the person. From this reverie I was roused +by certain words which sounded near me, uttered in a strange +tone, and in a strange cadence—the words were, “them +that finds, wins; and them that can’t find, +loses.” Turning my eyes in the direction from which +the words proceeded, I saw six or seven people, apparently all +countrymen, gathered round a person standing behind a tall white +table of very small compass. “What!” said I, +“the thimble-engro of --- Fair here at +Horncastle.” Advancing nearer, however, I perceived +that though the present person was a thimble-engro, he was a very +different one from my old acquaintance of --- Fair. The +present one was a fellow about half-a-foot taller than the +other. He had a long, haggard, wild face, and was dressed +in a kind of jacket, something like that of a soldier, with dirty +hempen trousers, and with a foreign-looking peaked hat on his +head. He spoke with an accent evidently Irish, and +occasionally changed the usual thimble formule, “them that +finds wins, and them that can’t—och, sure!—they +loses;” saying also frequently, “your honour,” +instead of “my lord.” I observed, on drawing +nearer, that he handled the pea and thimble with some +awkwardness, like that which might be expected from a novice in +the trade. He contrived, however, to win several shillings, +for he did not seem to play for gold, from “their +honours.” Awkward, as he was, he evidently did his +best, and never flung a chance away by permitting any one to +win. He had just won three shillings from a farmer, who, +incensed at his loss, was calling him a confounded cheat, and +saying that he would play no more, when up came my friend of the +preceding day, Jack, the jockey. This worthy, after looking +at the thimble-man a moment or two, with a peculiarly crafty +glance, cried out, as he clapped down a shilling on the table, +“I will stand you, old fellow!” “Them +that finds wins; and them that can’t—och, +sure!—they loses,” said the thimble-man. The +game commenced, and Jack took up the thimble without finding the +pea; another shilling was produced, and lost in the same manner; +“this is slow work,” said Jack, banging down a guinea +on the table; “can you cover that, old fellow?” +The man of the thimble looked at the gold, and then at him who +produced it, and scratched his head. “Come, cover +that, or I shall be off,” said the jockey. +“Och, sure, my lord!—no, I mean your honour—no, +sure, your lordship,” said the other, “if I covers it +at all, it must be with silver, for divil a bit of gold have I by +me.” “Well, then, produce the value in +silver,” said the jockey, “and do it quickly, for I +can’t be staying here all day.” The thimble-man +hesitated, looked at Jack with a dubious look, then at the gold, +and then scratched his head. There was now a laugh amongst +the surrounders, which evidently nettled the fellow, who +forthwith thrust his hand into his pocket, and pulling out all +his silver treasure, just contrived to place the value of the +guinea on the table. “Them that finds wins, and them +that can’t find—<i>loses</i>,” interrupted +Jack, lifting up a thimble, out of which rolled a pea. +“There, paddy, what do you think of that?” said he, +seizing the heap of silver with one hand, whilst he pocketed the +guinea with the other. The thimble-engro stood, for some +time, like one transfixed, his eyes glaring wildly, now at the +table, and now at his successful customers; at last he said, +“Arrah, sure, master!—no, I manes my lord—you +are not going to ruin a poor boy!” “Ruin +you!” said the other; “what! by winning a +guinea’s change? a pretty small dodger you—if you +have not sufficient capital, why do you engage in so deep a trade +as thimbling? come, will you stand another game?” +“Och, sure, master, no! the twenty shillings and one which +you have cheated me of were all I had in the world.” +“Cheated you,” said Jack, “say that again, and +I will knock you down.” “Arrah! sure, master, +you knows that the pea under the thimble was not mine; here is +mine, master; now give me back my money.” “A +likely thing,” said Jack; “no, no, I know a trick +worth two or three of that; whether the pea was yours or mine, +you will never have your twenty shillings and one again; and if I +have ruined you, all the better; I’d gladly ruin all such +villains as you, who ruin poor men with your dirty tricks, whom +you would knock down and rob on the road, if you had but courage; +not that I mean to keep your shillings, with the exception of the +two you cheated from me, which I’ll keep. A scramble, +boys! a scramble!” said he, flinging up all the silver into +the air, with the exception of the two shillings; and a scramble +there instantly was, between the rustics who had lost their money +and the urchins who came running up; the poor thimble-engro tried +likewise to have his share; and though he flung himself down, in +order to join more effectually in the scramble, he was unable to +obtain a single sixpence; and having in his rage given some of +his fellow-scramblers a cuff or two, he was set upon by the boys +and country fellows, and compelled to make an inglorious retreat +with his table, which had been flung down in the scuffle, and had +one of its legs broken. As he retired, the rabble hooted, +and Jack, holding up in derision the pea with which he had +outmanoeuvred him, exclaimed, “I always carry this in my +pocket in order to be a match for vagabonds like you.”</p> +<p>The tumult over, Jack gone, and the rabble dispersed, I +followed the discomfited adventurer at a distance, who, leaving +the town, went slowly on, carrying his dilapidated piece of +furniture; till coming to an old wall by the roadside, he placed +it on the ground, and sat down, seemingly in deep despondency, +holding his thumb to his mouth. Going nearly up to him, I +stood still, whereupon he looked up, and perceiving I was looking +steadfastly at him, he said, in an angry tone, “Arrah! what +for are you staring at me so? By my shoul, I think you are +one of the thaives who are after robbing me. I think I saw +you among them, and if I were only sure of it, I would take the +liberty of trying to give you a big bating.” +“You have had enough of trying to give people a +beating,” said I; “you had better be taking your +table to some skilful carpenter to get it repaired. He will +do it for sixpence.” “Divil a sixpence did you +and your thaives leave me,” said he; “and if you do +not take yourself off, joy, I will be breaking your ugly head +with the foot of it.” “Arrah, Murtagh!” +said I, “would ye be breaking the head of your friend and +scholar, to whom you taught the blessed tongue of Oilien nan +Naomha, in exchange for a pack of cards?” Murtagh, +for he it was, gazed at me for a moment with a bewildered look; +then, with a gleam of intelligence in his eye, he said, +“Shorsha! no, it can’t be—yes, by my faith it +is!” Then, springing up, and seizing me by the hand, +he said, “Yes, by the powers, sure enough it is Shorsha +agra! Arrah, Shorsha! where have you been this many a +day? Sure, you are not one of the spalpeens who are after +robbing me?” “Not I,” I replied, +“but I saw all that happened. Come, you must not take +matters so to heart; cheer up; such things will happen in +connection with the trade you have taken up.” +“Sorrow befall the trade, and the thief who taught it +me,” said Murtagh; “and yet the trade is not a bad +one, if I only knew more of it, and had some one to help and back +me. Och! the idea of being cheated and bamboozled by that +one-eyed thief in the horseman’s dress.” +“Let bygones be bygones, Murtagh,” said I; “it +is no use grieving for the past; sit down, and let us have a +little pleasant gossip. Arrah, Murtagh! when I saw you +sitting under the wall, with your thumb to your mouth, it brought +to my mind tales which you used to tell me all about +Finn-ma-Coul. You have not forgotten Finn-ma-Coul, Murtagh, +and how he sucked wisdom out of his thumb.” +“Sorrow a bit have I forgot about him, Shorsha,” said +Murtagh, as we sat down together, “nor what you yourself +told me about the snake. Arrah, Shorsha! what ye told me +about the snake, bates anything I ever told you about Finn. +Ochone, Shorsha! perhaps you will be telling me about the snake +once more? I think the tale would do me good, and I have +need of comfort, God knows, ochone!” Seeing Murtagh +in such a distressed plight, I forthwith told him over again the +tale of the snake, in precisely the same words as I have related +it in the first part of this history. After which, I said, +“Now, Murtagh, tit for tat; ye will be telling me one of +the old stories of Finn-ma-Coul.” “Och, +Shorsha! I haven’t heart enough,” said +Murtagh. “Thank you for your tale, but it makes me +weep; it brings to my mind Dungarvon times of old—I mean +the times we were at school together.” “Cheer +up, man,” said I, “and let’s have the story, +and let it be about Ma-Coul and the salmon and his +thumb.” “Arrah, Shorsha! I +can’t. Well, to oblige you, I’ll give it +you. Well, you know Ma-Coul was an exposed child, and came +floating over the salt sea in a chest which was cast ashore at +Veintry Bay. In the corner of that bay was a castle, where +dwelt a giant and his wife, very respectable and decent people, +and this giant, taking his morning walk along the bay, came to +the place where the child had been cast ashore in his box. +Well, the giant looked at the child, and being filled with +compassion for his exposed state, took the child up in his box, +and carried him home to his castle, where he and his wife, being +dacent respectable people, as I telled ye before, fostered the +child and took care of him, till he became old enough to go out +to service and gain his livelihood, when they bound him out +apprentice to another giant, who lived in a castle up the +country, at some distance from the bay.</p> +<p>“This giant, whose name was Darmod David Odeen, was not +a respectable person at all, but a big old vagabond. He was +twice the size of the other giant, who, though bigger than any +man, was not a big giant; for, as there are great and small men, +so there are great and small giants—I mean some are small +when compared with the others. Well, Finn served this giant +a considerable time, doing all kinds of hard and unreasonable +service for him, and receiving all kinds of hard words, and many +a hard knock and kick to boot—sorrow befall the old +vagabond who could thus ill-treat a helpless foundling. It +chanced that one day the giant caught a salmon, near a +salmon-leap upon his estate—for, though a big ould +blackguard, he was a person of considerable landed property, and +high sheriff for the county Cork. Well, the giant brings +home the salmon by the gills, and delivers it to Finn, telling +him to roast it for the giant’s dinner; ‘but take +care, ye young blackguard,’ he added, ‘that in +roasting it—and I expect ye to roast it well—you do +not let a blister come upon its nice satin skin, for if ye do, I +will cut the head off your shoulders.’ +‘Well,’ thinks Finn, ‘this is a hard task; +however, as I have done many hard tasks for him, I will try and +do this too, though I was never set to do anything yet half so +difficult.’ So he prepared his fire, and put his +gridiron upon it, and lays the salmon fairly and softly upon the +gridiron, and then he roasts it, turning it from one side to the +other just in the nick of time, before the soft satin skin could +be blistered. However, on turning it over the eleventh +time—and twelve would have settled the business—he +found he had delayed a little bit of time too long in turning it +over, and that there was a small, tiny blister on the soft outer +skin. Well, Finn was in a mighty panic, remembering the +threats of the ould giant; however, he did not lose heart, but +clapped his thumb upon the blister in order to smooth it +down. Now the salmon, Shorsha, was nearly done, and the +flesh thoroughly hot, so Finn’s thumb was scalt, and he, +clapping it to his mouth, sucked it, in order to draw out the +pain, and in a moment—hubbuboo!—became imbued with +all the wisdom of the world.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. Stop, Murtagh! stop!</p> +<p><i>Murtagh</i>. All the witchcraft, Shorsha.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. How wonderful!</p> +<p><i>Murtagh</i>. Was it not, Shorsha? The salmon, +do you see, was a fairy salmon.</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. What a strange coincidence!</p> +<p><i>Murtagh</i>. A what, Shorsha?</p> +<p><i>Myself</i>. Why, that the very same tale should be +told of Finn-ma-Coul, which is related of Sigurd Fafnisbane.</p> +<p>“What thief was that, Shorsha?”</p> +<p>“Thief! ’Tis true, he took the treasure of +Fafnir. Sigurd was the hero of the North, Murtagh, even as +Finn is the great hero of Ireland. He, too, according to +one account, was an exposed child, and came floating in a casket +to a wild shore, where he was suckled by a hind, and afterwards +found and fostered by Mimir, a fairy blacksmith; he, too, sucked +wisdom from a burn. According to the Edda, he burnt his +finger whilst feeling of the heart of Fafnir, which he was +roasting, and putting it into his mouth in order to suck out the +pain, became imbued with all the wisdom of the world, the +knowledge of the language of birds, and what not. I have +heard you tell the tale of Finn a dozen times in the blessed days +of old, but its identity with the tale of Sigurd never occurred +to me till now. It is true, when I knew you of old, I had +never read the tale of Sigurd, and have since almost dismissed +matters of Ireland from my mind; but as soon as you told me again +about Finn’s burning his finger, the coincidence struck +me. I say, Murtagh, the Irish owe much to the +Danes—”</p> +<p>“Devil a bit, Shorsha, do they owe to the thaives, +except many a bloody bating and plundering, which they never paid +them back. Och, Shorsha! you, edicated in ould Ireland, to +say that the Irish owes anything good to the plundering +villains—the Siol Loughlin.”</p> +<p>“They owe them half their traditions, Murtagh, and +amongst others, Finn-ma-Coul and the burnt finger; and if ever I +publish the Loughlin songs, I’ll tell the world +so.”</p> +<p>“But, Shorsha, the world will never believe ye—to +say nothing of the Irish part of it.”</p> +<p>“Then the world, Murtagh—to say nothing of the +Irish part of it—will be a fool, even as I have often +thought it; the grand thing, Murtagh, is to be able to believe +oneself, and respect oneself. How few whom the world +believes believe and respect themselves.”</p> +<p>“Och, Shorsha! shall I go on with the tale of +Finn?”</p> +<p>“I’d rather you should not, Murtagh; I know all +about it already.”</p> +<p>“Then why did you bother me to tell it at first, +Shorsha? Och, it was doing my ownself good, and making me +forget my own sorrowful state, when ye interrupted me with your +thaives of Danes! Och, Shorsha! let me tell you how Finn, +by means of sucking his thumb, and the witchcraft he imbibed from +it, contrived to pull off the arm of the ould wagabone, Darmod +David Odeen, whilst shaking hands with him—for Finn could +do no feat of strength without sucking his thumb, Shorsha, as +Conan the Bald told the son of Oisin in the song which I used to +sing ye in Dungarvon times of old;” and here Murtagh +repeated certain Irish words to the following effect:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“O little the foolish words I heed<br /> +O Oisin’s son, from thy lips which come;<br /> +No strength were in Finn for valorous deed,<br /> +Unless to the gristle he suck’d his thumb.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>“Enough is as good as a feast, Murtagh, I am no longer +in the cue for Finn. I would rather hear your own +history. Now tell us, man, all that has happened to ye +since Dungarvon times of old?”</p> +<p>“Och, Shorsha, it would be merely bringing all my +sorrows back upon me!”</p> +<p>“Well, if I know all your sorrows, perhaps I shall be +able to find a help for them. I owe you much, Murtagh; you +taught me Irish, and I will do all I can to help you.”</p> +<p>“Why, then, Shorsha, I’ll tell ye my +history. Here goes!”</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XLV</h2> +<p>Murtagh’s Tale.</p> +<p>“Well, Shorsha, about a year and a half after you left +us—and a sorrowful hour for us it was when ye left us, +losing, as we did, your funny stories of your snake—and the +battles of your military—they sent me to Paris and +Salamanca, in order to make a saggart of me.”</p> +<p>“Pray excuse me,” said I, “for interrupting +you, but what kind of place is Salamanca?”</p> +<p>“Divil a bit did I ever see of it, Shorsha!”</p> +<p>“Then why did ye say ye were sent there? Well, +what kind of place is Paris? Not that I care much about +Paris.”</p> +<p>“Sorrow a bit did I ever see of either them, Shorsha, +for no one sent me to either. When we says at home a person +is going to Paris and Salamanca, it manes that he is going abroad +to study to be a saggart, whether he goes to them places or +not. No, I never saw either—bad luck to them—I +was shipped away from Cork up the straits to a place called +Leghorn, from which I was sent to—to a religious house, +where I was to be instructed in saggarting till they had made me +fit to cut a dacent figure in Ireland. We had a long and +tedious voyage, Shorsha; not so tedious, however, as it would +have been had I been fool enough to lave your pack of cards +behind me, as the thaif, my brother Denis, wanted to persuade me +to do, in order that he might play with them himself. With +the cards I managed to have many a nice game with the sailors, +winning from them ha’pennies and sixpences until the +captain said I was ruining his men, and keeping them from their +duty; and, being a heretic and a Dutchman, swore that unless I +gave over he would tie me up to the mast and give me a round +dozen. This threat obliged me to be more on my guard, +though I occasionally contrived to get a game at night, and to +win sixpennies and ha’pennies.</p> +<p>“We reached Leghorn at last, and glad I was to leave the +ship and the master, who gave me a kick as I was getting over the +side, bad luck to the dirty heretic for kicking a son of the +church, for I have always been a true son of the church, Shorsha, +and never quarrelled with it unless it interfered with me in my +playing at cards. I left Leghorn with certain muleteers, +with whom I played at cards at the baiting-houses, and who +speedily won from me all the ha’pennies and sixpences I had +won from the sailors. I got my money’s worth, +however, for I learnt from the muleteers all kind of quaint +tricks upon the cards, which I knew nothing of before; so I did +not grudge them what they chated me of, and when we parted we did +so in kindness on both sides. On getting to—I was +received into the religious house for Irishes. It was the +Irish house, Shorsha, into which I was taken, for I do not wish +ye to suppose that I was in the English religious house which +there is in that city, in which a purty set are educated, and in +which purty doings are going on if all tales be true.</p> +<p>“In this Irish house I commenced my studies, learning to +sing and to read the Latin prayers of the church. +’Faith, Shorsha, many’s the sorrowful day I passed in +that house learning the prayers and litanies, being half-starved, +with no earthly diversion at all, at all; until I took the cards +out of my chest and began instructing in card-playing the chum +which I had with me in my cell; then I had plenty of diversion +along with him during the times when I was not engaged in +singing, and chanting, and saying the prayers of the church; +there was, however, some drawback in playing with my chum, for +though he was very clever in learning, divil a sixpence had he to +play with, in which respect he was like myself, the master who +taught him, who had lost all my money to the muleteers who taught +me the tricks upon the cards; by degrees, however, it began to be +noised about the religious house that Murtagh, from Hibrodary, <a +name="citation1"></a><a href="#footnote1" +class="citation">[1]</a> had a pack of cards with which he played +with his chum in the cell; whereupon other scholars of the +religious house came to me, some to be taught and others to play, +so with some I played, and others I taught, but neither to those +who could play, or to those who could not, did I teach the +elegant tricks which I learnt from the muleteers. Well, the +scholars came to me for the sake of the cards, and the porter and +cook of the religious house, who could both play very well, came +also; at last I became tired of playing for nothing, so I +borrowed a few bits of silver from the cook, and played against +the porter, and by means of my tricks I won money from the +porter, and then I paid the cook the bits of silver which I had +borrowed of him; and played with him, and won a little of his +money, which I let him win back again, as I had lived long enough +in a religious house to know that it is dangerous to take money +from the cook. In a little time, Shorsha, there was +scarcely anything going on in the house but card-playing; the +almoner played with me, and so did the sub-rector, and I won +money from both; not too much, however, lest they should tell the +rector, who had the character of a very austere man, and of being +a bit of a saint; however, the thief of a porter, whose money I +had won, informed the rector of what was going on, and one day +the rector sent for me into his private apartment, and gave me so +long and pious a lecture upon the heinous sin of card-playing, +that I thought I should sink into the ground; after about +half-an-hour’s inveighing against card-playing, he began to +soften his tone, and with a long sigh told me that at one time of +his life he had been a young man himself, and had occasionally +used the cards; he then began to ask me some questions about +card-playing, which questions I afterwards found were to pump +from me what I knew about the science. After a time he +asked me whether I had got my cards with me, and on my telling +him I had, he expressed a wish to see them, whereupon I took the +pack out of my pocket, and showed it to him; he looked at it very +attentively, and at last, giving another deep sigh, he said, that +though he was nearly weaned from the vanities of the world, he +had still an inclination to see whether he had entirely lost the +little skill which at one time he possessed. When I heard +him speak in this manner, I told him that if his reverence was +inclined for a game of cards, I should be very happy to play one +with him; scarcely had I uttered these words than he gave a third +sigh, and looked so very much like a saint that I was afraid he +was going to excommunicate me. Nothing of the kind, +however, for presently he gets up and locks the door, then +sitting down at the table, he motioned me to do the same, which I +did, and in five minutes we were playing at cards, his reverence +and myself.</p> +<p>“I soon found that his reverence knew quite as much +about card-playing as I did. Divil a trick was there +connected with cards that his reverence did not seem awake +to. As, however, we were not playing for money, this +circumstance did not give me much uneasiness; so we played game +after game for two hours, when his reverence, having business, +told me I might go, so I took up my cards, make my obedience, and +left him. The next day I had other games with him, and so +on for a very long time, still playing for nothing. At last +his reverence grew tired of playing for nothing, and proposed +that we should play for money. Now, I had no desire to play +with his reverence for money, as I knew that doing so would bring +on a quarrel. As long as we were playing for nothing, I +could afford to let his reverence use what tricks he pleased; but +if we played for money, I couldn’t do so. If he +played his tricks, I must play mine, and use every advantage to +save my money; and there was one I possessed which his reverence +did not. The cards being my own, I had put some delicate +little marks on the trump cards, just at the edges, so that when +I dealt, by means of a little sleight of hand, I could deal +myself any trump card I pleased. But I wished, as I said +before, to have no dealings for money with his reverence, knowing +that he was master in the house, and that he could lead me a dog +of a life if I offended him, either by winning his money, or not +letting him win mine. So I told him I had no money to play +with, but the ould thief knew better; he knew that I was every +day winning money from the scholars, and the sub-rector, and the +other people of the house, and the ould thaif had determined to +let me go on in that way winning money, and then by means of his +tricks, which he thought I dare not resent, to win from me all my +earnings—in a word, Shorsha, to let me fill myself like a +sponge, and then squeeze me for his own advantage. So he +made me play with him, and in less than three days came on the +quarrel; his reverence chated me, and I chated his reverence; the +ould thaif knew every trick that I knew, and one or two more; but +in daling out the cards I nicked his reverence; scarcely a trump +did I ever give him, Shorsha, and won his money purty +freely. Och, it was a purty quarrel! All the delicate +names in the ‘Newgate Calendar,’ if ye ever heard of +such a book; all the hang-dog names in the Newgate histories, and +the lives of Irish rogues, did we call each other—his +reverence and I! Suddenly, however, putting out his hand, +he seized the cards, saying, ‘I will examine these cards, +ye cheating scoundrel! for I believe there are dirty marks on +them, which ye have made in order to know the winning +cards.’ ‘Give me back my pack,’ said I, +‘or m’anam on Dioul if I be not the death of +ye!’ His reverence, however, clapped the cards into +his pocket, and made the best of his way to the door, I hanging +upon him. He was a gross, fat man, but, like most fat men, +deadly strong, so he forced his way to the door, and, opening it, +flung himself out, with me still holding on him like a terrier +dog on a big fat pig; then he shouts for help, and in a little +time I was secured and thrust into a lock-up room, where I was +left to myself. Here was a purty alteration. +Yesterday I was the idol of the religious house, thought more on +than his reverence, every one paying me court and wurtship, and +wanting to play cards with me, and to learn my tricks, and fed, +moreover, on the tidbits of the table; and to-day I was in a +cell, nobody coming to look at me but the blackguard porter who +had charge of me, my cards taken from me, and with nothing but +bread and water to live upon. Time passed dreary enough for +a month, at the end of which time his reverence came to me, +leaving the porter just outside the door in order to come to his +help should I be violent; and then he read me a very purty +lecture on my conduct, saying I had turned the religious house +topsy-turvy, and corrupted the scholars, and that I was the cheat +of the world, for that on inspecting the pack he had discovered +the dirty marks which I had made upon the trump cards for to know +them by. He said a great deal more to me, which is not +worth relating, and ended by telling me that he intended to let +me out of confinement next day, but that if ever I misconducted +myself any more, he would clap me in again for the rest of my +life. I had a good mind to call him an ould thaif, but the +hope of getting out made me hold my tongue, and the next day I +was let out; and need enough I had to be let out, for what with +being alone, and living on bread and water, I was becoming +frighted, or, as the doctors call it, narvous. But when I +was out—oh, what a change I found in the religious house! +no card-playing, for it had been forbidden to the scholars, and +there was now nothing going on but reading and singing; divil a +merry visage to be seen, but plenty of prim airs and graces; but +the case of the scholars, though bad enough, was not half so bad +as mine, for they could spake to each other, whereas I could not +have a word of conversation, for the ould thaif of a rector had +ordered them to send me to ‘Coventry,’ telling them +that I was a gambling cheat, with morals bad enough to corrupt a +horse regiment; and whereas they were allowed to divert +themselves with going out, I was kept reading and singing from +morn till night. The only soul who was willing to exchange +a word with me was the cook, and sometimes he and I had a little +bit of discourse in a corner, and we condoled with each other, +for he liked the change in the religious house almost as little +as myself; but he told me that, for all the change below stairs, +there was still card-playing on above, for that the ould thaif of +a rector, and the sub-rector, and the almoner played at cards +together, and that the rector won money from the others—the +almoner had told him so—and, moreover, that the rector was +the thaif of the world, and had once been kicked out of a +club-house at Dublin for cheating at cards, and after that +circumstance had apparently reformed and lived decently till the +time when I came to the religious house with my pack, but that +the sight of that had brought him back to his ould +gambling. He told the cook, moreover, that the rector +frequently went out at night to the houses of the great clergy +and cheated at cards.</p> +<p>“In this melancholy state, with respect to myself, +things continued a long time, when suddenly there was a report +that his Holiness the Pope intended to pay a visit to the +religious house in order to examine into its discipline. +When I heard this I was glad, for I determined after the Pope had +done what he had come to do, to fall upon my knees before him, +and make a regular complaint of the treatment I had received, to +tell him of the cheating at cards of the rector, and to beg him +to make the ould thaif give me back my pack again. So the +day of the visit came, and his Holiness made his appearance with +his attendants, and, having looked over the religious house, he +went into the rector’s room with the rector, the +sub-rector, and the almoner. I intended to have waited +until his Holiness came out, but finding he stayed a long time I +thought I would e’en go into him, so I went up to the door +without anybody observing me—his attendants being walking +about the corridor—and opening it I slipped in, and there +what do you think I saw? Why, his Holiness the Pope, and +his reverence the rector, and the sub-rector, and the almoner +seated at cards; and the ould thaif of a rector was dealing out +the cards which ye had given me, Shorsha, to his Holiness the +Pope, the sub-rector, the almoner, and himself.”</p> +<p>In this part of his history I interrupted Murtagh, saying that +I was afraid he was telling untruths, and that it was highly +improbable that the Pope would leave the Vatican to play cards +with Irish at their religious house, and that I was sure, if on +his, Murtagh’s authority, I were to tell the world so, the +world would never believe it.</p> +<p>“Then the world, Shorsha, would be a fool, even as you +were just now saying you had frequently believed it to be; the +grand thing, Shorsha, is to be able to believe oneself; if ye can +do that, it matters very little whether the world believe ye or +no. But a purty thing for you and the world to stickle at +the Pope’s playing at cards at a religious house of Irish; +och! if I were to tell you and the world, what the Pope has been +sometimes at, at the religious house of English thaives, I would +excuse you and the world for turning up your eyes. However, +I wish to say nothing against the Pope. I am a son of the +church, and if the Pope don’t interfere with my cards, +divil a bit will I have to say against him; but I saw the Pope +playing, or about to play, with the pack which had been taken +from me, and when I told the Pope, the Pope did not—Ye had +better let me go on with my history, Shorsha; whether you or the +world believe it or not, I am sure it is quite as true as your +tale of the snake, or saying that Finn got his burnt finger from +the thaives of Loughlin; and whatever you may say, I am sure the +world will think so too.”</p> +<p>I apologized to Murtagh for interrupting him, and telling him +that his history, whether true or not, was infinitely diverting, +begged him to continue it.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XLVI</h2> +<p>Murtagh’s Story continued—The Priest, Exorcist, +and Thimble-engro—How to Check a Rebellion.</p> +<p>I was telling ye, Shorsha, when ye interrupted me, that I +found the Pope, the rector, the sub-rector, and the almoner +seated at the table, the rector with my pack of cards in his +hands, about to deal out to the Pope and the rest, not forgetting +himself, for whom he intended all the trump-cards, no +doubt. No sooner did they perceive me than they seemed +taken all aback; but the rector, suddenly starting up with the +cards in his hand, asked me what I did there, threatening to have +me well disciplined if I did not go about my business; ‘I +am come for my pack,’ said I, ‘ye ould thaif, and to +tell his Holiness how I have been treated by ye;’ then +going down on my knees before his Holiness, I said, ‘Arrah, +now, your Holiness! will ye not see justice done to a poor boy +who has been sadly misused? The pack of cards which that +old ruffian has in his hand are my cards, which he has taken from +me, in order to chate with. Arrah! don’t play with +him, your Holiness, for he’ll only chate ye—there are +dirty marks upon the cards which bear the trumps, put there in +order to know them by; and the ould thaif in daling out will give +himself all the good cards, and chate ye of the last farthing in +your pocket; so let them be taken from him, your Holiness, and +given back to me; and order him to lave the room, and then, if +your Holiness be for an honest game, don’t think I am the +boy to baulk ye. I’ll take the old ruffian’s +place, and play with ye till evening, and all night besides, and +divil an advantage will I take of the dirty marks, though I know +them all, having placed them on the cards myself.’ I +was going on in this way when the ould thaif of a rector, +flinging down the cards, made at me as if to kick me out of the +room, whereupon I started up and said, ‘If ye are for +kicking, sure two can play at that;’ and then I kicked at +his reverence, and his reverence at me, and there was a regular +scrimmage between us, which frightened the Pope, who, getting up, +said some words which I did not understand, but which the cook +afterwards told me were, ‘English extravagance, and this is +the second edition;’ for it seems that, a little time +before, his Holiness had been frightened in St. Peter’s +Church by the servant of an English family, which those thaives +of the English religious house had been endeavouring to bring +over to the Catholic faith, and who didn’t approve of their +being converted. Och! his Holiness did us all sore +injustice to call us English, and to confound our house with the +other; for however dirty our house might be, our house was a +clane house compared with the English house, and we honest people +compared with those English thaives. Well, his Holiness was +frighted, and the almoner ran out, and brought in his +Holiness’s attendants, and they laid hold of me, but I +struggled hard, and said, ‘I will not go without my pack; +arrah, your Holiness! make them give me my pack, which Shorsha +gave me in Dungarvon times of old;’ but my struggles were +of no use. I was pulled away and put out in the ould +dungeon, and his Holiness went away sore frighted, crossing +himself much, and never returned again.</p> +<p>“In the old dungeon I was fastened to the wall by a +chain, and there I was disciplined once every other day for the +first three weeks, and then I was left to myself, and my chain, +and hunger; and there I sat in the dungeon, sometimes screeching, +sometimes hallooing, for I soon became frighted, having nothing +in the cell to divert me. At last the cook found his way to +me by stealth, and comforted me a little, bringing me tidbits out +of the kitchen; and he visited me again and again—not +often, however, for he dare only come when he could steal away +the key from the custody of the thaif of a porter. I was +three years in the dungeon, and should have gone mad but for the +cook, and his words of comfort, and his tidbits, and nice books +which he brought me out of the library, which were the +‘Calendars of Newgate,’ and the ‘Lives of Irish +Rogues and Raparees,’ the only English books in the +library. However, at the end of three years, the ould thaif +of a rector, wishing to look at them books, missed them from the +library, and made a perquisition about them, and the thaif of a +porter said that he shouldn’t wonder if I had them; saying +that he had once seen me reading; and then the rector came with +others to my cell, and took my books from me, from under my +straw, and asked me how I came by them; and on my refusal to +tell, they disciplined me again till the blood ran down my back; +and making more perquisition they at last accused the cook of +having carried the books to me, and not denying, he was given +warning to leave next day, but he left that night, and took me +away with him; for he stole the key, and came to me and cut my +chain through, and then he and I escaped from the religious house +through a window—the cook with a bundle, containing what +things he had. No sooner had we got out than the honest +cook gave me a little bit of money and a loaf, and told me to +follow a way which he pointed out, which he said would lead to +the sea; and then, having embraced me after the Italian way, he +left me, and I never saw him again. So I followed the way +which the cook pointed out, and in two days reached a seaport +called Chiviter Vik, terribly foot-foundered, and there I met a +sailor who spoke Irish, and who belonged to a vessel just ready +to sail for France; and the sailor took me on board his vessel, +and said I was his brother, and the captain gave me a passage to +a place in France called Marseilles; and when I got there, the +captain and sailor got a little money for me and a passport, and +I travelled across the country towards a place they directed me +to called Bayonne, from which they said I might, perhaps, get to +Ireland. Coming, however, to a place called Pau, all my +money being gone, I enlisted into a regiment called the Army of +the Faith, which was going into Spain, for the King of Spain had +been dethroned and imprisoned by his own subjects, as perhaps you +may have heard; and the King of France, who was his cousin, was +sending an army to help him, under the command of his own son, +whom the English called Prince Hilt, because when he was told +that he was appointed to the command, he clapped his hand on the +hilt of his sword. So I enlisted into the regiment of the +Faith, which was made up of Spaniards, many of them priests who +had run out of Spain, and broken Germans, and foot-foundered +Irish, like myself. It was said to be a blackguard +regiment, that same regiment of the Faith; but, ’faith, I +saw nothing blackguardly going on in it, for you would hardly +reckon card-playing and dominoes, and pitch and toss +blackguardly, and I saw nothing else in it. There was one +thing in it which I disliked—the priests drawing their +Spanish knives occasionally, when they lost their money. +After we had been some time at Pau, the army of the Faith was +sent across the mountains into Spain, as the vanguard of the +French; and no sooner did the Spaniards see the Faith than they +made a dash at it, and the Faith ran away, myself along with it, +and got behind the French army, which told it to keep there, and +the Faith did so, and followed the French army, which soon +scattered the Spaniards, and in the end placed the king on his +throne again. When the war was over the Faith was +disbanded; some of the foreigners, however, amongst whom I was +one, were put into a Guard regiment, and there I continued for +more than a year.</p> +<p>“One day, being at a place called the Escurial, I took +stock, as the tradesmen say, and found I possessed the sum of +eighty dollars won by playing at cards, for though I could not +play so well with the foreign cards as with the pack you gave me, +Shorsha, I had yet contrived to win money from the priests and +soldiers of the Faith. Finding myself possessed of such a +capital, I determined to leave the service, and to make the best +of my way to Ireland; so I deserted, but coming in an evil hour +to a place they calls Torre Lodones, I found the priest playing +at cards with his parishioners. The sight of the cards made +me stop, and then, fool like, notwithstanding the treasure I had +about me, I must wish to play, so not being able to speak their +language, I made signs to them to let me play, and the priest and +his thaives consented willingly; so I sat down to cards with the +priest and two of his parishioners, and in a little time had won +plenty of their money, but I had better never have done any such +thing, for suddenly the priest and all his parishioners set upon +me and bate me, and took from me all I had, and cast me out of +the village more dead than alive. Och! it’s a bad +village that, and if I had known what it was I would have avoided +it, or run straight through it, though I saw all the card-playing +in the world going on in it. There is a proverb about it, +as I was afterwards told, old as the time of the Moors, which +holds good to the present day—it is, that in Torre Lodones +there are twenty-four housekeepers, and twenty-five thieves, +maning that all the people are thaives, and the clergyman to +boot, who is not reckoned a housekeeper; and troth I found the +clergyman the greatest thaif of the lot. After being cast +out of that village I travelled for nearly a month, subsisting by +begging tolerably well, for though most of the Spanish are +thaives, they are rather charitable; but though charitable +thaives they do not like their own being taken from them without +leave being asked, as I found to my cost; for on my entering a +garden near Seville, without leave, to take an orange, the +labourer came running up and struck me to the ground with a +hatchet, giving me a big wound in the arm. I fainted with +loss of blood, and on reviving I found myself in a hospital at +Seville, to which the labourer and the people of the village had +taken me. I should have died of starvation in that hospital +had not some English people heard of me and come to see me; they +tended me with food till I was cured, and then paid my passage on +board a ship to London, to which place the ship carried me.</p> +<p>“And now I was in London with five shillings in my +pocket—all I had in the world—and that did not last +for long; and when it was gone I begged in the streets, but I did +not get much by that, except a month’s hard labour in the +correction-house; and when I came out I knew not what to do, but +thought I would take a walk in the country, for it was +spring-time, and the weather was fine, so I took a walk about +seven miles from London, and came to a place where a great fair +was being held; and there I begged, but got nothing but a +halfpenny, and was thinking of going farther, when I saw a man +with a table, like that of mine, playing with thimbles, as you +saw me. I looked at the play, and saw him win money, and +run away, and hunted by constables more than once. I kept +following the man, and at last entered into conversation with +him; and learning from him that he was in want of a companion to +help him, I offered to help him if he would pay me; he looked at +me from top to toe, and did not wish at first to have anything to +do with me, as he said my appearance was against me. +’Faith, Shorsha, he had better have looked at home, for his +appearance was not much in his favour: he looked very much like a +Jew, Shorsha. However, he at last agreed to take me to be +his companion, or bonnet as he called it; and I was to keep a +look-out, and let him know when constables were coming, and to +spake a good word for him occasionally, whilst he was chating +folks with his thimbles and his pea. So I became his +bonnet, and assisted him in the fair, and in many other fairs +beside; but I did not like my occupation much, or rather my +master, who, though not a big man, was a big thaif, and an unkind +one, for do all I could I could never give him pleasure; and he +was continually calling me fool and bogtrotter, and twitting me +because I could not learn his thaives’ Latin, and discourse +with him in it, and comparing me with another acquaintance, or +bit of a pal of his, whom he said he had parted with in the fair, +and of whom he was fond of saying all kinds of wonderful things, +amongst others, that he knew the grammar of all tongues. At +last, wearied with being twitted by him with not being able to +learn his thaives’ Greek, I proposed that I should teach +him Irish, that we should spake it together when we had anything +to say in secret. To that he consented willingly; but, och! +a purty hand he made with Irish, ’faith, not much better +than I did with his thaives’ Hebrew. Then my turn +came, and I twitted him nicely with dulness, and compared him +with a pal that I had in ould Ireland, in Dungarvon times of +yore, to whom I teached Irish, telling him that he was the broth +of a boy, and not only knew the grammar of all human tongues, but +the dialects of the snakes besides; in fact, I tould him all +about your own sweet self, Shorsha, and many a dispute and +quarrel had we together about our pals, which was the cleverest +fellow, his or mine.</p> +<p>“Well, after having been wid him about two months, I +quitted him without noise, taking away one of his tables, and +some peas and thimbles; and that I did with a safe conscience, +for he paid me nothing, and was not over free with the meat and +the drink, though I must say of him that he was a clever fellow, +and perfect master of his trade, by which he made a power of +money, and bating his not being able to learn Irish, and a +certain Jewish lisp which he had, a great master of his tongue, +of which he was very proud; so much so, that he once told me that +when he had saved a certain sum of money he meant to leave off +the thimbling business, and enter Parliament; into which, he +said, he could get at any time, through the interest of a friend +of his, a Tory Peer—my Lord Whitefeather, with whom, he +said, he had occasionally done business. With the table, +and other things which I had taken, I commenced trade on my own +account, having contrived to learn a few of his tricks. My +only capital was the change for half-a-guinea, which he had once +let fall, and which I picked up, which was all I could ever get +from him: for it was impossible to stale any money from him, he +was so awake, being up to all the tricks of thaives, having +followed the diving trade, as he called it, for a considerable +time. My wish was to make enough by my table to enable me +to return with credit to ould Ireland, where I had no doubt of +being able to get myself ordained as priest; and, in troth, +notwithstanding I was a beginner, and without any companion to +help me, I did tolerably well, getting my meat and drink, and +increasing my small capital, till I came to this unlucky place of +Horncastle, where I was utterly ruined by the thaif in the +rider’s dress. And now, Shorsha, I am after telling +you my history; perhaps you will now be telling me something +about yourself?”</p> +<p>I told Murtagh all about myself that I deemed necessary to +relate, and then asked him what he intended to do; he repeated +that he was utterly ruined, and that he had no prospect before +him but starving, or making away with himself. I inquired +“How much would take him to Ireland, and establish him +there with credit.” “Five pounds,” he +answered, adding, “but who in the world would be fool +enough to lend me five pounds, unless it be yourself, Shorsha, +who, may be, have not got it; for when you told me about +yourself, you made no boast of the state of your +affairs.” “I am not very rich,” I +replied, “but I think I can accommodate you with what you +want. I consider myself under great obligations to you, +Murtagh; it was you who instructed me in the language of Oilein +nan Naomha, which has been the foundation of all my acquisitions +in philology; without you, I should not have been what I +am—Lavengro! which signifies a philologist. Here is +the money, Murtagh,” said I, putting my hand into my +pocket, and taking out five pounds, “much good may it do +you.” He took the money, stared at it, and then at +me—“And you mane to give me this, +Shorsha?” “It is no longer mine to give,” +said I; “it is yours.” “And you give it +me for the gratitude you bear me?” “Yes,” +said I, “and for Dungarvon times of old.” +“Well, Shorsha,” said he, “you are a broth of a +boy, and I’ll take your benefaction—five pounds! och, +Jasus!” He then put the money in his pocket, and +springing up, waved his hat three times, uttering some old Irish +cry; then, sitting down, he took my hand, and said, “Sure, +Shorsha, I’ll be going thither; and when I get there, it is +turning over another leaf I will be; I have learnt a thing or two +abroad; I will become a priest; that’s the trade, Shorsha! +and I will cry out for repale; that’s the cry, Shorsha! and +I’ll be a fool no longer.” “And what will +you do with your table?” said I. “’Faith, +I’ll be taking it with me, Shorsha; and when I gets to +Ireland, I’ll get it mended, and I will keep it in the +house which I shall have; and when I looks upon it, I will be +thinking of all I have undergone.” “You had +better leave it behind you,” said I; “if you take it +with you, you will, perhaps, take up the thimble trade again +before you get to Ireland, and lose the money I am after giving +you.” “No fear of that, Shorsha; never will I +play on that table again, Shorsha, till I get it mended, which +shall not be till I am a priest, and have a house in which to +place it.”</p> +<p>Murtagh and I then went into the town, where we had some +refreshment together, and then parted on our several ways. +I heard nothing of him for nearly a quarter of a century, when a +person who knew him well, coming from Ireland, and staying at my +humble house, told me a great deal about him. He reached +Ireland in safety, soon reconciled himself with his Church, and +was ordained a priest; in the priestly office he acquitted +himself in a way very satisfactory, upon the whole, to his +superiors, having, as he frequently said, learned wisdom +abroad. The Popish Church never fails to turn to account +any particular gift which its servants may possess; and +discovering soon that Murtagh was endowed with considerable +manual dexterity—proof of which he frequently gave at +cards, and at a singular game which he occasionally played at +thimbles—it selected him as a very fit person to play the +part of exorcist; and accordingly he travelled through a great +part of Ireland, casting out devils from people possessed, which +he afterwards exhibited, sometimes in the shape of rabbits, and +occasionally birds and fishes. There is a holy island in a +lake in Ireland, to which the people resort at a particular +season of the year. Here Murtagh frequently attended, and +it was here that he performed a cure which will cause his name +long to be remembered in Ireland, delivering a possessed woman of +two demons, which he brandished aloft in his hands, in the shape +of two large eels, and subsequently hurled into the lake, amidst +the shouts of an enthusiastic multitude. Besides playing +the part of an exorcist, he acted that of a politician with +considerable success; he attached himself to the party of the +sire of agitation—“the man of paunch,” and +preached and hallooed for repeal with the loudest and best, as +long as repeal was the cry; as soon, however, as the Whigs +attained the helm of Government, and the greater part of the +loaves and fishes—more politely termed the patronage of +Ireland—was placed at the disposition of the priesthood, +the tone of Murtagh, like that of the rest of his brother +saggarts, was considerably softened; he even went so far as to +declare that politics were not altogether consistent with +sacerdotal duty; and resuming his exorcisms, which he had for +some time abandoned, he went to the Isle of Holiness, and +delivered a possessed woman of six demons in the shape of white +mice. He, however, again resumed the political mantle in +the year 1848, during the short period of the rebellion of the +so-called Young Irelanders. The priests, though they +apparently sided with this party, did not approve of it, as it +was chiefly formed of ardent young men, fond of what they termed +liberty, and by no means admirers of priestly domination, being +mostly Protestants. Just before the outbreak of this +rebellion, it was determined between the priests and the ---, +that this party should be rendered comparatively innocuous by +being deprived of the sinews of war—in other words, certain +sums of money which they had raised for their enterprise. +Murtagh was deemed the best qualified person in Ireland to be +entrusted with the delicate office of getting their money from +them. Having received his instructions, he invited the +leaders to his parsonage amongst the mountains, under pretence of +deliberating with them about what was to be done. They +arrived there just before nightfall, dressed in red, yellow, and +green, the colours so dear to enthusiastic Irishmen; Murtagh +received them with great apparent cordiality, and entered into a +long discourse with them, promising them the assistance of +himself and order, and received from them a profusion of +thanks. After a time Murtagh, observing, in a jocular tone, +that consulting was dull work, proposed a game of cards, and the +leaders, though somewhat surprised, assenting, he went to a +closet, and taking out a pack of cards, laid it upon the table; +it was a strange dirty pack, and exhibited every mark of having +seen very long service. On one of its guests making some +remarks on the “ancientness” of its appearance, +Murtagh observed that there was a very wonderful history attached +to that pack; it had been presented to him, he said, by a young +gentleman, a disciple of his, to whom, in Dungarvon times of +yore, he had taught the Irish language, and of whom he related +some very extraordinary things; he added that he, Murtagh, had +taken it to ---, where it had once the happiness of being in the +hands of the Holy Father; by a great misfortune, he did not say +what, he had lost possession of it, and had returned without it, +but had some time since recovered it; a nephew of his, who was +being educated at—for a priest, having found it in a nook +of the college, and sent it to him.</p> +<p>Murtagh and the leaders then played various games with this +pack, more especially one called by the initiated “blind +hookey,” the result being that at the end of about two +hours the leaders found they had lost one-half of their funds; +they now looked serious, and talked of leaving the house, but +Murtagh begging them to stay to supper, they consented. +After supper, at which the guests drank rather freely, Murtagh +said that, as he had not the least wish to win their money, he +intended to give them their revenge; he would not play at cards +with them, he added, but at a funny game of thimbles, at which +they would be sure of winning back their own; then going out, he +brought in a table, tall and narrow, on which placing certain +thimbles and a pea, he proposed that they should stake whatever +they pleased on the almost certainty of finding the pea under the +thimbles. The leaders, after some hesitation, consented, +and were at first eminently successful, winning back the greater +part of what they had lost; after some time, however, Fortune, or +rather Murtagh, turned against them, and then, instead of leaving +off, they doubled and trebled their stakes, and continued doing +so until they had lost nearly the whole of their funds. +Quite furious, they now swore that Murtagh had cheated them, and +insisted on having their property restored to them. +Murtagh, without a word of reply, went to the door, and shouting +into the passage something in Irish, the room was instantly +filled with bogtrotters, each at least six feet high, with a +stout shillelah in his hand. Murtagh then turning to his +guests, asked them what they meant by insulting an anointed +priest; telling them that it was not for the likes of them to +avenge the wrongs of Ireland. “I have been clane +mistaken in the whole of ye,” said he, “I supposed ye +Irish, but have found, to my sorrow, that ye are nothing of the +kind; purty fellows to pretend to be Irish, when there is not a +word of Irish on the tongue of any of ye, divil a ha’porth; +the illigant young gentleman to whom I taught Irish, in Dungarvon +times of old, though not born in Ireland, has more Irish in him +than any ten of ye. He is the boy to avenge the wrongs of +Ireland, if ever foreigner is to do it.” Then saying +something to the bogtrotters, they instantly cleared the room of +the young Irelanders, who retired sadly disconcerted; +nevertheless, being very silly young fellows, they hoisted the +standard of rebellion; few, however, joining them, partly because +they had no money, and partly because the priests abused them +with might and main, their rebellion ended in a lamentable +manner; themselves being seized and tried, and though convicted, +not deemed of sufficient importance to be sent to the scaffold, +where they might have had the satisfaction of saying—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Dulce et decorum est pro patria +mori.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>My visitor, after saying that of the money won, Murtagh +retained a considerable portion, that a part went to the +hierarchy for what were called church purposes, and that +the—took the remainder, which it employed in establishing a +newspaper, in which the private characters of the worthiest and +most loyal Protestants in Ireland were traduced and vilified, +concluded his account by observing, that it was the common belief +that Murtagh, having by his services, ecclesiastical and +political, acquired the confidence of the priesthood and favour +of the Government, would, on the first vacancy, be appointed to +the high office of Popish Primate of Ireland.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XLVII</h2> +<p>Departure from Horncastle—Recruiting +Sergeant—Kauloes and Lolloes.</p> +<p>Leaving Horncastle I bent my steps in the direction of the +east. I walked at a brisk rate, and late in the evening +reached a large town, situate at the entrance of an extensive +firth, or arm of the sea, which prevented my farther progress +eastward. Sleeping that night in the suburbs of the town, I +departed early next morning in the direction of the south. +A walk of about twenty miles brought me to another large town, +situated on a river, where I again turned towards the east. +At the end of the town I was accosted by a fiery-faced +individual, somewhat under the middle size, dressed as a +recruiting sergeant.</p> +<p>“Young man,” said the recruiting sergeant, +“you are just the kind of person to serve the Honourable +East India Company.”</p> +<p>“I had rather the Honourable Company should serve +me,” said I.</p> +<p>“Of course, young man. Well, the Honourable East +India Company shall serve you—that’s +reasonable. Here, take this shilling; ’tis +service-money. The Honourable Company engages to serve you, +and you the Honourable Company; both parties shall be thus +served; that’s just and reasonable.”</p> +<p>“And what must I do for the Company?”</p> +<p>“Only go to India; that’s all.”</p> +<p>“And what should I do in India?”</p> +<p>“Fight, my brave boy! fight, my youthful +hero!”</p> +<p>“What kind of country is India?”</p> +<p>“The finest country in the world! Rivers, bigger +than the Ouse. Hills, higher than anything near +Spalding! Trees—you never saw such trees! +Fruits—you never saw such fruits!”</p> +<p>“And the people—what kind of folk are +they?”</p> +<p>“Pah! Kauloes—blacks—a set of rascals +not worth regarding.”</p> +<p>“Kauloes!” said I; “blacks!”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the recruiting sergeant; “and +they call us lolloes, which, in their beastly gibberish, means +red.”</p> +<p>“Lolloes!” said I; “reds!”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the recruiting sergeant, +“kauloes and lolloes; and all the lolloes have to do is to +kick and cut down the kauloes, and take from them their rupees, +which mean silver money. Why do you stare so?”</p> +<p>“Why,” said I, “this is the very language of +Mr. Petulengro.”</p> +<p>“Mr. Pet—?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” said I, “and Tawno Chikno.”</p> +<p>“Tawno Chik—? I say, young fellow, I +don’t like your way of speaking; no, nor your way of +looking. You are mad, sir; you are mad; and what’s +this? Why, your hair is grey! You won’t do for +the Honourable Company—they like red. I’m glad +I didn’t give you the shilling. Good day to +you.”</p> +<p>“I shouldn’t wonder,” said I, as I proceeded +rapidly along a broad causeway, in the direction of the east, +“if Mr. Petulengro and Tawno Chikno came originally from +India. I think I’ll go there.”</p> +<h2>APPENDIX</h2> +<h3>CHAPTER I—A Word for Lavengro.</h3> +<p>Lavengro is the history up to a certain period of one of +rather a peculiar mind and system of nerves, with an exterior shy +and cold, under which lurk much curiosity, especially with regard +to what is wild and extraordinary, a considerable quantity of +energy and industry, and an unconquerable love of +independence. It narrates his earliest dreams and feelings, +dwells with minuteness on the ways, words, and characters of his +father, mother, and brother, lingers on the occasional +resting-places of his wandering half military childhood, +describes the gradual hardening of his bodily frame by robust +exercises, his successive struggles, after his family and himself +have settled down in a small local capital, to obtain knowledge +of every kind, but more particularly philological lore; his +visits to the tent of the Romany chal, and the parlour of the +Anglo-German philosopher; the effect produced upon his character +by his flinging himself into contact with people all widely +differing from each other, but all extraordinary; his reluctance +to settle down to the ordinary pursuits of life; his struggles +after moral truth; his glimpses of God and the obscuration of the +Divine Being, to his mind’s eye; and his being cast upon +the world of London by the death of his father, at the age of +nineteen. In the world within a world, the world of London, +it shows him playing his part for some time as he best can, in +the capacity of a writer for reviews and magazines, and describes +what he saw and underwent whilst labouring in that capacity; it +represents him, however, as never forgetting that he is the son +of a brave but poor gentleman, and that if he is a hack author, +he is likewise a scholar. It shows him doing no +dishonourable jobs, and proves that if he occasionally associates +with low characters, he does so chiefly to gratify the curiosity +of a scholar. In his conversations with the apple-woman of +London Bridge, the scholar is ever apparent, so again in his +acquaintance with the man of the table, for the book is no raker +up of the uncleanness of London, and if it gives what at first +sight appears refuse, it invariably shows that a pearl of some +kind, generally a philological one, is contained amongst it; it +shows its hero always accompanied by his love of independence, +scorning in the greatest poverty to receive favours from anybody, +and describes him finally rescuing himself from peculiarly +miserable circumstances by writing a book, an original book, +within a week, even as Johnson is said to have written his +“Rasselas,” and Beckford his “Vathek,” +and tells how, leaving London, he betakes himself to the roads +and fields.</p> +<p>In the country it shows him leading a life of roving +adventure, becoming tinker, gypsy, postillion, ostler; +associating with various kinds of people, chiefly of the lower +classes, whose ways and habits are described; but, though leading +this erratic life, we gather from the book that his habits are +neither vulgar nor vicious, that he still follows to a certain +extent his favourite pursuits, hunting after strange characters, +or analysing strange words and names. At the conclusion of +the last chapter, which terminates the first part of the history, +it hints that he is about to quit his native land on a grand +philological expedition.</p> +<p>Those who read this book with attention—and the author +begs to observe that it would be of little utility to read it +hurriedly—may derive much information with respect to +matters of philology and literature; it will be found treating of +most of the principal languages from Ireland to China, and of the +literature which they contain; and it is particularly minute with +regard to the ways, manners, and speech of the English section of +the most extraordinary and mysterious clan or tribe of people to +be found in the whole world—the children of Roma. But +it contains matters of much more importance than anything in +connection with philology, and the literature and manners of +nations. Perhaps no work was ever offered to the public in +which the kindness and providence of God have been set forth by +more striking examples, or the machinations of priestcraft been +more truly and lucidly exposed, or the dangers which result to a +nation when it abandons itself to effeminacy, and a rage for what +is novel and fashionable, than the present.</p> +<p>With respect to the kindness and providence of God, are they +not exemplified in the case of the old apple-woman and her +son? These are beings in many points bad, but with warm +affections, who, after an agonizing separation, are restored to +each other, but not until the hearts of both are changed and +purified by the influence of affliction. Are they not +exemplified in the case of the rich gentleman, who touches +objects in order to avert the evil chance? This being has +great gifts and many amiable qualities, but does not everybody +see that his besetting sin is selfishness? He fixes his +mind on certain objects, and takes inordinate interest in them, +because they are his own, and those very objects, through the +providence of God, which is kindness in disguise, become snakes +and scorpions to whip him. Tired of various pursuits, he at +last becomes an author, and publishes a book, which is very much +admired, and which he loves with his usual inordinate affection; +the book, consequently, becomes a viper to him, and at last he +flings it aside and begins another; the book, however, is not +flung aside by the world, who are benefited by it, deriving +pleasure and knowledge from it: so the man who merely wrote to +gratify self, has already done good to others, and got himself an +honourable name. But God will not allow that man to put +that book under his head and use it as a pillow: the book has +become a viper to him, he has banished it, and is about another, +which he finishes and gives to the world; it is a better book +than the first, and every one is delighted with it; but it proves +to the writer a scorpion, because he loves it with inordinate +affection; but it was good for the world that he produced this +book, which stung him as a scorpion. Yes; and good for +himself, for the labour of writing it amused him, and perhaps +prevented him from dying of apoplexy; but the book is banished, +and another is begun, and herein, again, is the providence of God +manifested; the man has the power of producing still, and God +determines that he shall give to the world what remains in his +brain, which he would not do, had he been satisfied with the +second work; he would have gone to sleep upon that as he would +upon the first, for the man is selfish and lazy. In his +account of what he suffered during the composition of this work, +his besetting sin of selfishness is manifest enough; the work on +which he is engaged occupies his every thought, it is his idol, +his deity, it shall be all his own, he won’t borrow a +thought from any one else, and he is so afraid lest, when he +publishes it, that it should be thought that he had borrowed from +any one, that he is continually touching objects, his nervous +system, owing to his extreme selfishness, having become partly +deranged. He is left touching, in order to banish the evil +chance from his book, his deity. No more of his history is +given; but does the reader think that God will permit that man to +go to sleep on his third book, however extraordinary it may +be? Assuredly not. God will not permit that man to +rest till he has cured him to a certain extent of his +selfishness, which has, however, hitherto been very useful to the +world.</p> +<p>Then, again, in the tale of Peter Williams, is not the hand of +Providence to be seen? This person commits a sin in his +childhood, utters words of blasphemy, the remembrance of which, +in after life, preying upon his imagination, unfits him for quiet +pursuits, to which he seems to have been naturally inclined; but +for the remembrance of that sin, he would have been Peter +Williams the quiet and respectable Welsh farmer, somewhat fond of +reading the ancient literature of his country in winter evenings, +after his work was done. God, however, was aware that there +was something in Peter Williams to entitle him to assume a higher +calling; he therefore permits this sin, which, though a childish +affair, was yet a sin, and committed deliberately, to prey upon +his mind till he becomes at last an instrument in the hand of +God, a humble Paul, the great preacher, Peter Williams, who, +though he considers himself a reprobate and a castaway, instead +of having recourse to drinking in mad desperation, as many do who +consider themselves reprobates, goes about Wales and England +preaching the word of God, dilating on his power and majesty, and +visiting the sick and afflicted, until God sees fit to restore to +him his peace of mind; which he does not do, however, until that +mind is in a proper condition to receive peace, till it has been +purified by the pain of the one idea which has so long been +permitted to riot in his brain; which pain, however, an angel, in +the shape of a gentle faithful wife, had occasionally alleviated; +for God is merciful even in the blows which He bestoweth, and +will not permit any one to be tempted beyond the measure which he +can support. And here it will be as well for the reader to +ponder upon the means by which the Welsh preacher is relieved +from his mental misery: he is not relieved by a text from the +Bible, by the words of consolation and wisdom addressed to him by +his angel-minded wife, nor by the preaching of one yet more +eloquent than himself; but by a quotation made by Lavengro from +the life of Mary Flanders, cut-purse and prostitute, which life +Lavengro had been in the habit of reading at the stall of his old +friend the apple-woman, on London Bridge, who had herself been +very much addicted to the perusal of it, though without any +profit whatever. Should the reader be dissatisfied with the +manner in which Peter Williams is made to find relief, the author +would wish to answer, that the Almighty frequently accomplishes +his purposes by means which appear very singular to the eyes of +men, and at the same time to observe that the manner in which +that relief is obtained, is calculated to read a lesson to the +proud, fanciful, and squeamish, who are ever in a fidget lest +they should be thought to mix with low society, or to bestow a +moment’s attention on publications which are not what is +called of a perfectly unobjectionable character. Had not +Lavengro formed the acquaintance of the apple-woman on London +Bridge, he would not have had an opportunity of reading the life +of Mary Flanders; and, consequently, of storing in a memory, +which never forgets anything, a passage which contained a balm +for the agonized mind of poor Peter Williams. The best +medicines are not always found in the finest shops. +Suppose, for example, if, instead of going to London Bridge to +read, he had gone to Albemarle Street, and had received from the +proprietors of the literary establishment in that very +fashionable street, permission to read the publications on the +tables of the saloons there, does the reader think he would have +met any balm in those publications for the case of Peter +Williams? does the reader suppose that he would have found Mary +Flanders there? He would certainly have found that highly +unobjectionable publication, “Rasselas,” and the +“Spectator,” or “Lives of Royal and Illustrious +Personages,” but, of a surety, no Mary Flanders; so when +Lavengro met with Peter Williams, he would have been unprovided +with a balm to cure his ulcerated mind, and have parted from him +in a way not quite so satisfactory as the manner in which he took +his leave of him; for it is certain that he might have read +“Rasselas,” and all other unexceptionable works to be +found in the library of Albemarle Street, over and over again, +before he would have found any cure in them for the case of Peter +Williams. Therefore the author requests the reader to drop +any squeamish nonsense he may wish to utter about Mary Flanders, +and the manner in which Peter Williams was cured.</p> +<p>And now with respect to the old man who knew Chinese, but +could not tell what was o’clock. This individual was +a man whose natural powers would have been utterly buried and +lost beneath a mountain of sloth and laziness, had not God +determined otherwise. He had in his early years chalked out +for himself a plan of life in which he had his own ease and +self-indulgence solely in view; he had no particular bad passions +to gratify, he only wished to live a happy quiet life, just as if +the business of this mighty world could be carried on by innocent +people fond of ease or quiet, or that Providence would permit +innocent quiet drones to occupy any portion of the earth and to +cumber it. God had at any rate decreed that this man should +not cumber it as a drone. He brings a certain affliction +upon him, the agony of which produces that terrible whirling of +the brain which, unless it is stopped in time, produces madness; +he suffers indescribable misery for a period, until one morning +his attention is arrested, and his curiosity is aroused, by +certain Chinese letters on a teapot; his curiosity increases more +and more, and, of course, in proportion as his curiosity is +increased with respect to the Chinese marks, the misery in his +brain, produced by his mental affliction, decreases. He +sets about learning Chinese, and after the lapse of many years, +during which his mind subsides into a certain state of +tranquillity, he acquires sufficient knowledge of Chinese to be +able to translate with ease the inscriptions to be found on its +singular crockery. Yes, the laziest of human beings, +through the Providence of God, a being too of rather inferior +capacity, acquires the written part of a language so difficult +that, as Lavengro said on a former occasion, none but the +cleverest people in Europe, the French, are able to acquire +it. But God did not intend that man should merely acquire +Chinese. He intended that he should be of use to his +species, and by the instrumentality of the first Chinese +inscription which he translates, the one which first arrested his +curiosity, he is taught the duty of hospitality; yes, by means of +an inscription in the language of a people, who have scarcely an +idea of hospitality themselves, God causes the slothful man to +play a useful and beneficent part in the world, relieving +distressed wanderers, and, amongst others, Lavengro +himself. But a striking indication of the man’s +surprising sloth is still apparent in what he omits to do; he has +learnt Chinese, the most difficult of languages, and he practises +acts of hospitality, because he believes himself enjoined to do +so by the Chinese inscription, but he cannot tell the hour of the +day by the clock within his house; he can get on, he thinks, very +well without being able to do so; therefore from this one +omission, it is easy to come to a conclusion as to what a +sluggard’s part the man would have played in life, but for +the dispensation of Providence; nothing but extreme agony could +have induced such a man to do anything useful. He still +continues, with all he has acquired, with all his usefulness, and +with all his innocence of character, without any proper sense of +religion, though he has attained a rather advanced age. If +it be observed, that this want of religion is a great defect in +the story, the author begs leave to observe that he cannot help +it. Lavengro relates the lives of people so far as they +were placed before him, but no further. It was certainly a +great defect in so good a man to be without religion; it was +likewise a great defect in so learned a man not to be able to +tell what was o’clock. It is probable that God, in +his loving kindness, will not permit that man to go out of the +world without religion; who knows but some powerful minister of +the church full of zeal for the glory of God, will illume that +man’s dark mind; perhaps some clergyman will come to the +parish who will visit him and teach him his duty to his +God. Yes, it is very probable that such a man, before he +dies, will have been made to love his God; whether he will ever +learn to know what’s o’clock is another matter. +It is probable that he will go out of the world without knowing +what’s o’clock. It is not so necessary to be +able to tell the time of day by the clock as to know one’s +God through His inspired word; a man cannot get to heaven without +religion, but a man can get there very comfortably without +knowing what’s o’clock.</p> +<p>But, above all, the care and providence of God are manifested +in the case of Lavengro himself, by the manner in which he is +enabled to make his way in the world up to a certain period, +without falling a prey either to vice or poverty. In his +history, there is a wonderful illustration of part of the text, +quoted by his mother, “I have been young, but now am old, +yet never saw I the righteous forsaken, or his seed begging his +bread.” He is the son of good and honourable parents, +but at the critical period of life, that of entering into the +world, he finds himself without any earthly friend to help him, +yet he manages to make his way; he does not become a Captain in +the Life Guards, it is true, nor does he get into Parliament, nor +does the last volume conclude in the most satisfactory and +unobjectionable manner, by his marrying a dowager countess, as +that wise man Addison did, or by his settling down as a great +country gentleman, perfectly happy and contented, like the very +moral Roderick Random, or the equally estimable Peregrine Pickle; +he is hack author, gypsy, tinker, and postillion, yet, upon the +whole, he seems to be quite as happy as the younger sons of most +earls, to have as high feelings of honour; and when the reader +loses sight of him, he has money in his pocket honestly acquired, +to enable him to commence a journey quite as laudable as those +which the younger sons of earls generally undertake. Surely +all this is a manifestation of the kindness and providence of +God: and yet he is not a religious person; up to the time when +the reader loses sight of him, he is decidedly not a religious +person; he has glimpses, it is true, of that God who does not +forsake him, but he prays very seldom, is not fond of going to +church; and, though he admires Tate and Brady’s version of +the Psalms, his admiration is rather caused by the beautiful +poetry which that version contains than the religion; yet his +tale is not finished—like the tale of the gentleman who +touched objects, and that of the old man who knew Chinese without +knowing what was o’clock; perhaps, like them, he is +destined to become religious, and to have, instead of occasional +glimpses, frequent and distinct views of his God; yet, though he +may become religious, it is hardly to be expected that he will +become a very precise and straightlaced person; it is probable +that he will retain, with his scholarship, something of his +gypsyism, his predilection for the hammer and tongs, and perhaps +some inclination to put on certain gloves, not white kid, with +any friend who may be inclined for a little old English +diversion, and a readiness to take a glass of ale, with plenty of +malt in it, and as little hop as may well be—ale at least +two years old—with the aforesaid friend, when the diversion +is over; for, as it is the belief of the writer that a person may +get to heaven very comfortably without knowing what’s +o’clock, so it is his belief that he will not be refused +admission there, because to the last he has been fond of healthy +and invigorating exercises, and felt a willingness to partake of +any of the good things which it pleases the Almighty to put +within the reach of his children during their sojourn upon +earth.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER II—On Priestcraft.</h3> +<p>The writer will now say a few words about priestcraft, and the +machinations of Rome, and will afterwards say something about +himself, and his motives for writing against them.</p> +<p>With respect to Rome, and her machinations, much valuable +information can be obtained from particular parts of Lavengro, +and its sequel. Shortly before the time when the hero of +the book is launched into the world, the Popish agitation in +England had commenced. The Popish propaganda had determined +to make a grand attempt on England; Popish priests were scattered +over the land, doing the best they could to make converts to the +old superstition. With the plans of Rome, and her hopes, +and the reasons on which those hopes are grounded, the hero of +the book becomes acquainted, during an expedition which he makes +into the country, from certain conversations which he holds with +a priest in a dingle, in which the hero had taken up his +residence; he likewise learns from the same person much of the +secret history of the Roman See, and many matters connected with +the origin and progress of the Popish superstition. The +individual with whom he holds these conversations is a learned, +intelligent, but highly-unprincipled person, of a character +however very common amongst the priests of Rome, who in general +are people void of all religion, and who, notwithstanding they +are tied to Rome by a band which they have neither the power nor +wish to break, turn her and her practices, over their cups with +their confidential associates, to a ridicule only exceeded by +that to which they turn those who become the dupes of their +mistress and themselves.</p> +<p>It is now necessary that the writer should say something with +respect to himself, and his motives for waging war against +Rome. First of all, with respect to himself, he wishes to +state, that to the very last moment of his life, he will do and +say all that in his power may be to hold up to contempt and +execration the priestcraft and practices of Rome; there is, +perhaps, no person better acquainted than himself, not even among +the choicest spirits of the priesthood, with the origin and +history of Popery. From what he saw and heard of Popery in +England, at a very early period of his life, his curiosity was +aroused, and he spared himself no trouble, either by travel or +study, to make himself well acquainted with it in all its phases, +the result being a hatred of it, which he hopes and trusts he +shall retain till the moment when his spirit quits the +body. Popery is the great lie of the world; a source from +which more misery and social degradation have flowed upon the +human race, than from all the other sources from which those +evils come. It is the oldest of all superstitions; and +though in Europe it assumes the name of Christianity, it existed +and flourished amidst the Himalayan hills at least two thousand +years before the real Christ was born in Bethlehem of Judea; in a +word, it is Buddhism; and let those who may be disposed to doubt +this assertion, compare the Popery of Rome, and the superstitious +practices of its followers, with the doings of the priests who +surround the grand Lama; and the mouthings, bellowing, turnings +round, and, above all, the penances of the followers of Buddh +with those of Roman devotees. But he is not going to dwell +here on this point; it is dwelt upon at tolerable length in the +text, and has likewise been handled with extraordinary power by +the pen of the gifted but irreligious Volney; moreover, the +<i>élite</i> of the Roman priesthood are perfectly well +aware that their system is nothing but Buddhism under a slight +disguise, and the European world in general has entertained for +some time past an inkling of the fact.</p> +<p>And now a few words with respect to the motives of the writer +for expressing a hatred for Rome.</p> +<p>This expressed abhorrence of the author for Rome might be +entitled to little regard, provided it were possible to attribute +it to any self-interested motive. There have been professed +enemies of Rome, or of this or that system; but their professed +enmity may frequently be traced to some cause which does them +little credit; but the writer of these lines has no motive, and +can have no motive, for his enmity to Rome, save the abhorrence +of an honest heart for what is false, base, and cruel. A +certain clergyman wrote with much heat against the Papists in the +time of—who was known to favour the Papists, but was not +expected to continue long in office, and whose supposed +successor, the person, indeed, who did succeed him, was thought +to be hostile to the Papists. This divine, who obtained a +rich benefice from the successor of—who during ---’s +time had always opposed him in everything he proposed to do, and +who, of course, during that time affected to be very inimical to +Popery—this divine might well be suspected of having a +motive equally creditable for writing against the Papists, as +that which induced him to write for them, as soon as his patron, +who eventually did something more for him, had espoused their +cause; but what motive, save an honest one, can the present +writer have, for expressing an abhorrence of Popery? He is +no clergyman, and consequently can expect neither benefices nor +bishoprics, supposing it were the fashion of the present, or +likely to be the fashion of any future administration, to reward +clergymen with benefices or bishoprics, who, in the defence of +the religion of their country write, or shall write, against +Popery, and not to reward those who write, or shall write, in +favour of it, and all its nonsense and abominations.</p> +<p>“But if not a clergyman, he is the servant of a certain +society, which has the overthrow of Popery in view, and +therefore,” etc. This assertion, which has been +frequently made, is incorrect, even as those who have made it +probably knew it to be. He is the servant of no society +whatever. He eats his own bread, and is one of the very few +men in England who are independent in every sense of the +word.</p> +<p>It is true he went to Spain with the colours of that society +on his hat—oh! the blood glows in his veins! oh! the marrow +awakes in his old bones when he thinks of what he accomplished in +Spain in the cause of religion and civilization with the colours +of that society in his hat, and its weapon in his hand, even the +sword of the word of God; how with that weapon he hewed left and +right, making the priests fly before him, and run away squeaking: +“Vaya! que demonio es este!” Ay, and when he +thinks of the plenty of Bible swords which he left behind him, +destined to prove, and which have already proved, pretty +calthrops in the heels of Popery. “Halloo! +Batuschca,” he exclaimed the other night, on reading an +article in a newspaper; “what do you think of the present +doings in Spain? Your old friend the zingaro, the gitano +who rode about Spain, to say nothing of Galicia, with the Greek +Buchini behind him as his squire, had a hand in bringing them +about; there are many brave Spaniards connected with the present +movement who took Bibles from his hands, and read them and +profited by them, learning from the inspired page the duties of +one man towards another, and the real value of a priesthood and +their head, who set at nought the word of God, and think only of +their own temporal interests; ay, and who learned +Gitano—their own Gitano—from the lips of the London +Caloró, and also songs in the said Gitano, very fit to +dumbfounder your semi-Buddhist priests when they attempt to +bewilder people’s minds with their school-logic and +pseudo-ecclesiastical nonsense, songs such as—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Un Erajai<br /> +Sinaba chibando un sermon—.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>- But with that society he has long since ceased to have any +connection; he bade it adieu with feelings of love and admiration +more than fourteen years ago; so, in continuing to assault +Popery, no hopes of interest founded on that society can sway his +mind—interest! who, with worldly interest in view, would +ever have anything to do with that society? It is poor and +supported, like its founder Christ, by poor people; and so far +from having political influence, it is in such disfavour, and has +ever been, with the dastardly great, to whom the government of +England has for many years past been confided, that they having +borne its colours only for a month would be sufficient to exclude +any man, whatever his talents, his learning, or his courage may +be, from the slightest chance of being permitted to serve his +country either for fee, or without. A fellow who unites in +himself the bankrupt trader, the broken author, or rather +book-maker, and the laughed-down single speech spouter of the +House of Commons, may look forward, always supposing that at one +time he has been a foaming radical, to the government of an +important colony. Ay, an ancient fox who has lost his tail +may, provided he has a score of radical friends, who will swear +that he can bark Chinese, though Chinese is not barked but sung, +be forced upon a Chinese colony, though it is well known that to +have lost one’s tail is considered by the Chinese in +general as an irreparable infamy, whilst to have been once +connected with a certain society, to which, to its honour be it +said, all the radical party are vehemently hostile, would be +quite sufficient to keep any one not only from a government, but +something much less, even though he could translate the rhymed +“Sessions of Hariri,” and were versed, still +retaining his tail, in the two languages in which Kien-Loung +wrote his Eulogium on Moukden, that piece which, translated by +Amyot, the learned Jesuit, won the applause of the celebrated +Voltaire.</p> +<p>No! were the author influenced by hopes of fee or reward, he +would, instead of writing against Popery, write for it; all the +trumpery titled—he will not call them great +again—would then be for him, and their masters the +radicals, with their hosts of newspapers, would be for him, more +especially if he would commence maligning the society whose +colours he had once on his hat—a society which, as the +priest says in the text, is one of the very few Protestant +institutions for which the Popish Church entertains any fear, and +consequently respect, as it respects nothing which it does not +fear. The writer said that certain “rulers” +would never forgive him for having been connected with that +society; he went perhaps too far in saying +“never.” It is probable that they would take +him into favour on one condition, which is, that he should turn +his pen and his voice against that society; such a mark “of +a better way of thinking” would perhaps induce them to give +him a government, nearly as good as that which they gave to a +certain ancient radical fox at the intercession of his radical +friends (who were bound to keep him from the pauper’s +kennel), after he had promised to foam, bark, and snarl at +corruption no more; he might even entertain hopes of succeeding, +nay, of superseding, the ancient creature in his government; but +even were he as badly off as he is well off, he would do no such +thing. He would rather exist on crusts and water; he has +often done so, and been happy; nay, he would rather starve than +be a rogue—for even the feeling of starvation is happiness +compared with what he feels who knows himself to be a rogue, +provided he has any feeling at all. What is the use of a +mitre or knighthood to a man who has betrayed his +principles? What is the use of a gilt collar, nay, even of +a pair of scarlet breeches, to a fox who has lost his tail? +Oh! the horror which haunts the mind of a fox who has lost his +tail; and with reason, for his very mate loathes him, and more +especially if, like himself, she has lost her brush. Oh! +the horror which haunts the mind of the two-legged rogue who has +parted with his principles, or those which he professed—for +what? We’ll suppose a government. What’s +the use of a government, if the next day after you have received +it, you are obliged for very shame to scurry off to it with the +hoot of every honest man sounding in your ears?</p> +<blockquote><p>“Lightly liar leaped and away +ran.”</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Piers +Plowman</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>But bigotry, it has been said, makes the author write against +Popery; and thorough-going bigotry, indeed, will make a person +say or do anything. But the writer is a very pretty bigot +truly! Where will the public find traces of bigotry in +anything he has written? He has written against Rome with +all his heart, with all his mind, with all his soul, and with all +his strength; but as a person may be quite honest, and speak and +write against Rome, in like manner he may speak and write against +her, and be quite free from bigotry; though it is impossible for +any one but a bigot or a bad man to write or speak in her praise; +her doctrines, actions, and machinations being what they are.</p> +<p>Bigotry! The author was born, and has always continued +in the wrong church for bigotry, the quiet, unpretending Church +of England; a church which, had it been a bigoted church, and not +long suffering almost to a fault, might with its opportunities, +as the priest says in the text, have stood in a very different +position from that which it occupies at present. No! let +those who are in search of bigotry, seek for it in a church very +different from the inoffensive Church of England, which never +encourages cruelty or calumny. Let them seek for it amongst +the members of the Church of Rome, and more especially amongst +those who have renegaded to it. There is nothing, however +false and horrible, which a pervert to Rome will not say for his +church, and which his priests will not encourage him in saying; +and there is nothing, however horrible—the more horrible +indeed and revolting to human nature, the more eager he would be +to do it—which he will not do for it, and which his priests +will not encourage him in doing.</p> +<p>Of the readiness which converts to Popery exhibit to sacrifice +all the ties of blood and affection on the shrine of their +newly-adopted religion, there is a curious illustration in the +work of Luigi Pulci. This man, who was born at Florence in +the year 1432, and who was deeply versed in the Bible, composed a +poem, called the “Morgante Maggiore,” which he +recited at the table of Lorenzo de Medici, the great patron of +Italian genius. It is a mock-heroic and religious poem, in +which the legends of knight-errantry, and of the Popish Church, +are turned to unbounded ridicule. The pretended hero of it +is a converted giant, called Morgante; though his adventures do +not occupy the twentieth part of the poem, the principal +personages being Charlemagne, Orlando, and his cousin Rinaldo of +Montalban. Morgante has two brothers, both of them giants, +and in the first canto of the poem, Morgante is represented with +his brothers as carrying on a feud with the abbot and monks of a +certain convent, built upon the confines of heathenesse; the +giants being in the habit of flinging down stones, or rather huge +rocks, on the convent. Orlando, however, who is banished +from the court of Charlemagne, arriving at the convent, +undertakes to destroy them, and, accordingly, kills Passamonte +and Alabastro, and converts Morgante, whose mind had been +previously softened by a vision, in which the “Blessed +Virgin” figures. No sooner is he converted than, as a +sign of his penitence, what does he do, but hastens and cuts off +the hands of his two brothers, saying—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Io vo’ tagliar le mani a tutti +quanti<br /> +E porterolle a que’ monaci santi.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And he does cut off the hands of his brethren, and carries +them to the abbot, who blesses him for so doing. Pulci here +is holding up to ridicule and execration the horrid butchery or +betrayal of friends by popish converts, and the encouragement +they receive from the priest. No sooner is a person +converted to Popery, than his principal thought is how he can +bring the hands and feet of his brethren, however harmless they +may be, and different from the giants, to the “holy +priests,” who, if he manages to do so, never fail to praise +him, saying to the miserable wretch, as the abbot said to +Morgante:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Tu sarai or perfetto e vero amico<br /> +A Cristo, quanto tu gli eri nemico.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Can the English public deny the justice of Pulci’s +illustration, after something which it has lately +witnessed? Has it not seen equivalents for the hands and +feet of brothers carried by popish perverts to the “holy +priests,” and has it not seen the manner in which the +offering has been received? Let those who are in quest of +bigotry seek for it among the perverts to Rome, and not amongst +those who, born in the pale of the Church of England, have always +continued in it.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER III—On Foreign Nonsense.</h3> +<p>With respect to the third point, various lessons which the +book reads to the nation at large, and which it would be well for +the nation to ponder and profit by.</p> +<p>There are many species of nonsense to which the nation is much +addicted, and of which the perusal of Lavengro ought to give them +a wholesome shame. First of all, with respect to the +foreign nonsense so prevalent now in England. The hero is a +scholar; but, though possessed of a great many tongues, he +affects to be neither Frenchman, nor German, nor this or that +foreigner; he is one who loves his country, and the language and +literature of his country, and speaks up for each and all when +there is occasion to do so. Now what is the case with nine +out of ten amongst those of the English who study foreign +languages? No sooner have they picked up a smattering of +this or that speech than they begin to abuse their own country, +and everything connected with it, more especially its +language. This is particularly the case with those who call +themselves German students. It is said, and the writer +believes with truth, that when a woman falls in love with a +particularly ugly fellow, she squeezes him with ten times more +zest than she would a handsome one, if captivated by him. +So it is with these German students; no sooner have they taken +German in hand than there is nothing like German. Oh, the +dear delightful German! How proud I am that it is now my +own, and that its divine literature is within my reach! And +all this whilst mumbling the most uncouth speech, and crunching +the most crabbed literature in Europe. The writer is not an +exclusive admirer of everything English; he does not advise his +country people never to go abroad, never to study foreign +languages, and he does not wish to persuade them that there is +nothing beautiful or valuable in foreign literature; he only +wishes that they would not make themselves fools with respect to +foreign people, foreign languages or reading; that if they chance +to have been in Spain, and have picked up a little Spanish, they +would not affect the airs of Spaniards; that if males they would +not make Tomfools of themselves by sticking cigars into their +mouths, dressing themselves in zamarras, and saying, carajo! <a +name="citation2"></a><a href="#footnote2" +class="citation">[2]</a> and if females that they would not make +zanies of themselves by sticking cigars into their mouths, +flinging mantillas over their heads, and by saying carai, and +perhaps carajo too; or if they have been in France or Italy, and +have picked up a little French or Italian, they would not affect +to be French or Italians; and particularly, after having been a +month or two in Germany, or picked up a little German in England, +they would not make themselves foolish about everything German, +as the Anglo-German in the book does—a real character, the +founder of the Anglo-German school in England, and the cleverest +Englishman who ever talked or wrote encomiastic nonsense about +Germany and the Germans. Of all infatuations connected with +what is foreign, the infatuation about everything that is German, +to a certain extent prevalent in England, is assuredly the most +ridiculous. One can find something like a palliation for +people making themselves somewhat foolish about particular +languages, literatures, and people. The Spanish certainly +is a noble language, and there is something wild and captivating +in the Spanish character, and its literature contains the grand +book of the world. French is a manly language. The +French are the great martial people in the world; and French +literature is admirable in many respects. Italian is a +sweet language, and of beautiful simplicity—its literature +perhaps the first in the world. The +Italians!—wonderful men have sprung up in Italy. +Italy is not merely famous for painters, poets, musicians, +singers, and linguists—the greatest linguist the world ever +saw, the late Cardinal Mezzofanti, was an Italian; but it is +celebrated for men—men emphatically speaking: Columbus was +an Italian, Alexander Farnese was an Italian, so was the +mightiest of the mighty, Napoleon Bonaparte;—but the German +language, German literature, and the Germans! The writer +has already stated his opinion with respect to German; he does +not speak from ignorance or prejudice; he has heard German +spoken, and many other languages. German literature! +He does not speak from ignorance, he has read that and many a +literature, and he repeats— However, he acknowledges that +there is one fine poem in the German language, that poem is the +“Oberon;” a poem, by the bye, ignored by the +Germans—a speaking fact—and of course, by the +Anglo-Germanists. The Germans! he has been amongst them, +and amongst many other nations, and confesses that his opinion of +the Germans, as men, is a very low one. Germany, it is +true, has produced one very great man, the monk who fought the +Pope, and nearly knocked him down; but this man his +countrymen—a telling fact—affect to despise, and, of +course, the Anglo-Germanists: the father of Anglo-Germanism was +very fond of inveighing against Luther.</p> +<p>The madness, or rather foolery, of the English for foreign +customs, dresses, and languages, is not an affair of to-day, or +yesterday—it is of very ancient date, and was very properly +exposed nearly three centuries ago by one Andrew Borde, who under +the picture of a “Naked man, with a pair of shears in one +hand, and a roll of cloth in the other,” <a +name="citation3"></a><a href="#footnote3" +class="citation">[3]</a> inserted the following lines along with +others:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“I am an Englishman, and naked I stand +here,<br /> +Musing in my mind what garment I shall weare;<br /> +For now I will weare this, and now I will weare that,<br /> +Now I will weare, I cannot tell what.<br /> +All new fashions be pleasant to mee,<br /> +I will have them, whether I thrive or thee;<br /> +What do I care if all the world me fail?<br /> +I will have a garment reach to my taile;<br /> +Then am I a minion, for I wear the new guise.<br /> +The next yeare after I hope to be wise,<br /> +Not only in wearing my gorgeous array,<br /> +For I will go to learning a whole summer’s day;<br /> +I will learn Latine, Hebrew, Greek, and French,<br /> +And I will learn Dutch, sitting on my bench.<br /> +I had no peere if to myself I were true,<br /> +Because I am not so, divers times do I rue.<br /> +Yet I lacke nothing, I have all things at will<br /> +If I were wise and would hold myself still,<br /> +And meddle with no matters but to me pertaining,<br /> +But ever to be true to God and my king.<br /> +But I have such matters rowling in my pate,<br /> +That I will and do—I cannot tell what,” etc.</p> +</blockquote> +<h3>CHAPTER IV—On Gentility Nonsense—Illustrations of +Gentility.</h3> +<p>What is gentility? People in different stations in +England—entertain different ideas of what is genteel, <a +name="citation4"></a><a href="#footnote4" +class="citation">[4]</a> but it must be something gorgeous, +glittering, or tawdry, to be considered genteel by any of +them. The beau-ideal of the English aristocracy, of course +with some exceptions, is some young fellow with an imperial +title, a military personage of course, for what is military is so +particularly genteel, with flaming epaulets, a cocked hat and +plume, a prancing charger, and a band of fellows called generals +and colonels, with flaming epaulets, cocked hats and plumes, and +prancing chargers vapouring behind him. It was but lately +that the daughter of an English marquis was heard to say, that +the sole remaining wish of her heart—she had known +misfortunes, and was not far from fifty—was to be +introduced to—whom? The Emperor of Austria! The +sole remaining wish of the heart of one who ought to have been +thinking of the grave and judgment, was to be introduced to the +miscreant who had caused the blood of noble Hungarian females to +be whipped out of their shoulders, for no other crime than +devotion to their country, and its tall and heroic sons. +The middle classes—of course there are some +exceptions—admire the aristocracy, and consider them pinks, +the aristocracy who admire the Emperor of Austria, and adored the +Emperor of Russia, till he became old, ugly, and unfortunate, +when their adoration instantly terminated; for what is more +ungenteel than age, ugliness, and misfortune! The +beau-ideal with those of the lower classes, with peasants and +mechanics, is some flourishing railroad contractor: look, for +example, how they worship Mr. Flamson. This person makes +his grand débût in the year ’thirty-nine, at a +public meeting in the principal room of a country inn. He +has come into the neighbourhood with the character of a man worth +a million pounds, who is to make everybody’s fortune; at +this time, however, he is not worth a shilling of his own, though +he flashes about dexterously three or four thousand pounds, part +of which sum he has obtained by specious pretences, and part from +certain individuals who are his confederates. But in the +year ’forty-nine, he is really in possession of the fortune +which he and his agents pretended to be worth ten years +before—he is worth a million pounds. By what means +has he come by them? By railroad contracts, for which he +takes care to be paid in hard cash before he attempts to perform +them, and to carry out which he makes use of the sweat and blood +of wretches who, since their organization, have introduced crimes +and language into England to which it was previously almost a +stranger—by purchasing, with paper, shares by hundreds in +the schemes to execute which he contracts, and which are his own +devising; which shares he sells as soon as they are at a high +premium, to which they are speedily forced by means of +paragraphs, inserted by himself and agents, in newspapers devoted +to his interest, utterly reckless of the terrible depreciation to +which they are almost instantly subjected. But he is worth +a million pounds, there can be no doubt of the fact—he has +not made people’s fortunes, at least those whose fortunes +it was said he would make; he has made them away; but his own he +has made, emphatically made it; he is worth a million +pounds. Hurrah for the millionnaire! The clown who +views the pandemonium of red brick which he has built on the +estate which he has purchased in the neighbourhood of the place +of his grand débût, in which every species of +architecture, Greek, Indian, and Chinese, is employed in +caricature—who hears of the grand entertainment he gives at +Christmas in the principal dining-room, the hundred wax-candles, +the waggon-load of plate, and the ocean of wine which form parts +of it, and above all the two ostrich poults, one at the head, and +the other at the foot of the table, exclaims, “Well! if he +a’n’t bang up, I don’t know who be; why he +beats my lord hollow!” The mechanic of the borough +town, who sees him dashing through the streets in an open landau, +drawn by four milk-white horses, amidst his attendant out-riders; +his wife, a monster of a woman, by his side, stout as the wife of +Tamerlane, who weighed twenty stone, and bedizened out like her +whose person shone with the jewels of plundered Persia, stares +with silent wonder, and at last exclaims “That’s the +man for my vote!” You tell the clown that the man of +the mansion has contributed enormously to corrupt the rural +innocence of England; you point to an incipient branch railroad, +from around which the accents of Gomorrah are sounding, and beg +him to listen for a moment, and then close his ears. Hodge +scratches his head and says, “Well, I have nothing to say +to that; all I know is, that he is bang up, and I wish I were +he;” perhaps he will add—a Hodge has been known to +add—“He has been kind enough to put my son on that +very railroad; ’tis true the company is somewhat queer, and +the work rather killing, but he gets there half-a-crown a day, +whereas from the farmers he would only get +eighteen-pence.” You remind the mechanic that the man +in the landau has been the ruin of thousands and you mention +people whom he himself knows, people in various grades of life, +widows and orphans amongst them, whose little all has been +dissipated, and whom he has reduced to beggary by inducing them +to become sharers in his delusive schemes. But the mechanic +says, “Well, the more fools they to let themselves be +robbed. But I don’t call that kind of thing robbery, +I merely call it out-witting; and everybody in this free country +has a right to outwit others if he can. What a turn-out he +has!” One was once heard to add, “I never saw a +more genteel-looking man in all my life except one, and that was +a gentleman’s walley, who was much like him. It is +true that he is rather under-sized, but then madam, you know, +makes up for all.”</p> +<h3>CHAPTER V—Subject of Gentility continued.</h3> +<p>In the last chapter have been exhibited specimens of +gentility, so considered by different classes; by one class +power, youth, and epaulets are considered the ne plus ultra of +gentility; by another class pride, stateliness, and title; by +another, wealth and flaming tawdriness. But what +constitutes a gentleman? It is easy to say at once what +constitutes a gentleman, and there are no distinctions in what is +gentlemanly, <a name="citation5"></a><a href="#footnote5" +class="citation">[5]</a> as there are in what is genteel. +The characteristics of a gentleman are high feeling—a +determination never to take a cowardly advantage of +another—a liberal education—absence of narrow +views—generosity and courage, propriety of behaviour. +Now a person may be genteel according to one or another of the +three standards described above, and not possess one of the +characteristics of a gentleman. Is the emperor a gentleman, +with spatters of blood on his clothes, scourged from the backs of +noble Hungarian women? Are the aristocracy gentlefolks, who +admire him? Is Mr. Flamson a gentleman, although he has a +million pounds? No! cowardly miscreants, admirers of +cowardly miscreants, and people who make a million pounds by +means compared with which those employed to make fortunes by the +getters up of the South Sea Bubble might be called honest +dealing, are decidedly not gentlefolks. Now as it is +clearly demonstrable that a person may be perfectly genteel +according to some standard or other, and yet be no gentleman, so +it is demonstrable that a person may have no pretensions to +gentility, and yet be a gentleman. For example, there is +Lavengro! Would the admirers of the emperor, or the +admirers of those who admire the emperor, or the admirers of Mr. +Flamson, call him genteel? and gentility with them is +everything! Assuredly they would not; and assuredly they +would consider him respectively as a being to be shunned, +despised, or hooted. Genteel! Why at one time he is a +hack author—writes reviewals for eighteenpence a +page—edits a Newgate chronicle. At another he wanders +the country with a face grimy from occasionally mending kettles; +and there is no evidence that his clothes are not seedy and torn, +and his shoes down at the heel; but by what process of reasoning +will they prove that he is no gentleman? Is he not +learned? Has he not generosity and courage? Whilst a +hack author, does he pawn the books entrusted to him to +review? Does he break his word to his publisher? Does +he write begging letters? Does he get clothes or lodgings +without paying for them? Again, whilst a wanderer, does he +insult helpless women on the road with loose proposals or ribald +discourse? Does he take what is not his own from the +hedges? Does he play on the fiddle, or make faces in +public-houses, in order to obtain pence or beer? or does he call +for liquor, swallow it, and then say to a widowed landlady, +“Mistress, I have no brass?” In a word, what +vice and crime does he perpetrate—what low acts does he +commit? Therefore, with his endowments, who will venture to +say that he is no gentleman?—unless it be an admirer of Mr. +Flamson—a clown—who will, perhaps, +shout—“I say he is no gentleman; for who can be a +gentleman who keeps no gig?”</p> +<p>The indifference exhibited by Lavengro for what is merely +genteel, compared with his solicitude never to infringe the +strict laws of honour, should read a salutary lesson. The +generality of his countrymen are far more careful not to +transgress the customs of what they call gentility, than to +violate the laws of honour or morality. They will shrink +from carrying their own carpet-bag, and from speaking to a person +in seedy raiment, whilst to matters of much higher importance +they are shamelessly indifferent. Not so Lavengro; he will +do anything that he deems convenient, or which strikes his fancy, +provided it does not outrage decency, or is unallied to +profligacy; is not ashamed to speak to a beggar in rags, and will +associate with anybody, provided he can gratify a laudable +curiosity. He has no abstract love for what is low, or what +the world calls low. He sees that many things which the +world looks down upon are valuable, so he prizes much which the +world condemns; he sees that many things which the world admires +are contemptible, so he despises much which the world does not; +but when the world prizes what is really excellent, he does not +contemn it, because the world regards it. If he learns +Irish, which all the world scoffs at, he likewise learns Italian, +which all the world melts at. If he learns Gypsy, the +language of the tattered tent, he likewise learns Greek, the +language of the college-hall. If he learns smithery, he +also learns—ah! what does he learn to set against +smithery?—the law? No; he does not learn the law, +which, by the way, is not very genteel. Swimming? +Yes, he learns to swim. Swimming, however, is not genteel; +and the world—at least the genteel part of it—acts +very wisely in setting its face against it; for to swim you must +be naked, and how would many a genteel person look without his +clothes? Come, he learns horsemanship; a very genteel +accomplishment, which every genteel person would gladly possess, +though not all genteel people do.</p> +<p>Again as to associates: if he holds communion when a boy with +Murtagh, the scarecrow of an Irish academy, he associates in +after life with Francis Ardry, a rich and talented young Irish +gentleman about town. If he accepts an invitation from Mr. +Petulengro to his tent, he has no objection to go home with a +rich genius to dinner; who then will say that he prizes a thing +or a person because they are ungenteel? That he is not +ready to take up with everything that is ungenteel he gives a +proof, when he refuses, though on the brink of starvation, to +become bonnet to the thimble-man, an office, which, though +profitable, is positively ungenteel. Ah! but some +sticker-up for gentility will exclaim, “The hero did not +refuse this office from an insurmountable dislike to its +ungentility, but merely from a feeling of principle.” +Well! the writer is not fond of argument, and he will admit that +such was the case; he admits that it was a love of principle, +rather than an over-regard for gentility, which prevented the +hero from accepting, when on the brink of starvation, an +ungenteel though lucrative office, an office which, the writer +begs leave to observe, many a person with a great regard for +gentility, and no particular regard for principle, would in a +similar strait have accepted; for when did a mere love for +gentility keep a person from being a dirty scoundrel, when the +alternatives were “either be a dirty scoundrel or +starve?” One thing, however, is certain, which is, +that Lavengro did not accept the office, which if a love for what +is low had been his ruling passion he certainly would have done; +consequently, he refuses to do one thing which no genteel person +would willingly do, even as he does many things which every +genteel person would gladly do, for example, speaks Italian, +rides on horseback, associates with a fashionable young man, +dines with a rich genius, et cetera. Yet—and it +cannot be minced—he and gentility with regard to many +things are at strange divergency; he shrinks from many things at +which gentility placidly hums a tune, or approvingly simpers, and +does some things at which gentility positively shrinks. He +will not run into debt for clothes or lodgings, which he might do +without any scandal to gentility; he will not receive money from +Francis Ardry, and go to Brighton with the sister of Annette Le +Noir, though there is nothing ungenteel in borrowing money from a +friend, even when you never intend to repay him, and something +poignantly genteel in going to a watering-place with a gay young +Frenchwoman; but he has no objection, after raising twenty pounds +by the sale of that extraordinary work “Joseph Sell,” +to set off into the country, mend kettles under hedge-rows, and +make pony and donkey shoes in a dingle. Here, perhaps, some +plain, well-meaning person will cry—and with much apparent +justice—how can the writer justify him in this act? +What motive, save a love for what is low, could induce him to do +such a thing? Would the writer have everybody who is in +need of recreation go into the country, mend kettles under +hedges, and make pony shoes in dingles? To such an +observation the writer would answer, that Lavengro had an +excellent motive in doing what he did, but that the writer is not +so unreasonable as to wish everybody to do the same. It is +not everybody who can mend kettles. It is not everybody who +is in similar circumstances to those in which Lavengro was. +Lavengro flies from London and hack authorship, and takes to the +roads from fear of consumption; it is expensive to put up at +inns, and even at public-houses, and Lavengro has not much money; +so he buys a tinker’s cart and apparatus, and sets up as +tinker, and subsequently as blacksmith; a person living in a +tent, or in anything else, must do something or go mad; Lavengro +had a mind, as he himself well knew, with some slight tendency to +madness, and had he not employed himself, he must have gone wild; +so to employ himself he drew upon one of his resources, the only +one available at the time. Authorship had nearly killed +him, he was sick of reading, and had besides no books; but he +possessed the rudiments of an art akin to tinkering; he knew +something of smithery, having served a kind of apprenticeship in +Ireland to a fairy smith; so he draws upon his smithery to enable +him to acquire tinkering, he speedily acquires that craft, even +as he had speedily acquired Welsh, owing to its connection with +Irish, which language he possessed; and with tinkering he amuses +himself until he lays it aside to resume smithery. A man +who has an innocent resource, has quite as much right to draw +upon it in need, as he has upon a banker in whose hands he has +placed a sum; Lavengro turns to advantage, under particular +circumstances, a certain resource which he has, but people who +are not so forlorn as Lavengro, and have not served the same +apprenticeship which he had, are not advised to follow his +example. Surely he was better employed in plying the trades +of tinker and smith than in having recourse to vice, in running +after milk-maids, for example. Running after milk-maids is +by no means an ungenteel rural diversion; but let any one ask +some respectable casuist (the Bishop of London for example), +whether Lavengro was not far better employed, when in the +country, at tinkering and smithery than he would have been in +running after all the milk-maids in Cheshire, though tinkering is +in general considered a very ungenteel employment, and smithery +little better, notwithstanding that an Orcadian poet, who wrote +in Norse about eight hundred years ago, reckons the latter among +nine noble arts which he possessed, naming it along with playing +at chess, on the harp, and ravelling runes, or as the original +has it, “treading runes”—that is, compressing +them into a small compass by mingling one letter with another, +even as the Turkish caligraphists ravel the Arabic letters, more +especially those who write talismans.</p> +<blockquote><p>“Nine arts have I, all noble;<br /> +I play at chess so free,<br /> +At ravelling runes I’m ready,<br /> +At books and smithery;<br /> +I’m skilled o’er ice at skimming<br /> +On skates, I shoot and row,<br /> +And few at harping match me,<br /> +Or minstrelsy, I trow.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>But though Lavengro takes up smithery, which, though the +Orcadian ranks it with chess-playing and harping, is certainly +somewhat of a grimy art, there can be no doubt that, had he been +wealthy and not so forlorn as he was, he would have turned to +many things, honourable, of course, in preference. He has +no objection to ride a fine horse when he has the opportunity: he +has his day-dream of making a fortune of two hundred thousand +pounds by becoming a merchant and doing business after the +Armenian fashion; and there can be no doubt that he would have +been glad to wear fine clothes, provided he had had sufficient +funds to authorize him in wearing them. For the sake of +wandering the country and plying the hammer and tongs, he would +not have refused a commission in the service of that illustrious +monarch George the Fourth, provided he had thought that he could +live on his pay, and not be forced to run in debt to tradesmen, +without any hope of paying them, for clothes and luxuries, as +many highly genteel officers in that honourable service were in +the habit of doing. For the sake of tinkering, he would +certainly not have refused a secretaryship of an embassy to +Persia, in which he might have turned his acquaintance with +Persian, Arabic, and the Lord only knows what other languages, to +account. He took to tinkering and smithery, because no +better employments were at his command. No war is waged in +the book against rank, wealth, fine clothes, or dignified +employments; it is shown, however, that a person may be a +gentleman and a scholar without them. Rank, wealth, fine +clothes, and dignified employments, are no doubt very fine +things, but they are merely externals, they do not make a +gentleman, they add external grace and dignity to the gentleman +and scholar, but they make neither; and is it not better to be a +gentleman without them than not a gentleman with them? Is +not Lavengro, when he leaves London on foot with twenty pounds in +his pocket, entitled to more respect than Mr. Flamson flaming in +his coach with a million? And is not even the honest jockey +at Horncastle, who offers a fair price to Lavengro for his horse, +entitled to more than the scoundrel lord, who attempts to cheat +him of one-fourth of its value?</p> +<p>Millions, however, seem to think otherwise, by their servile +adoration of people whom without rank, wealth, and fine clothes +they would consider infamous, but whom possessed of rank, wealth, +and glittering habiliments they seem to admire all the more for +their profligacy and crimes. Does not a blood-spot, or a +lust-spot, on the clothes of a blooming emperor, give a kind of +zest to the genteel young god? Do not the pride, +superciliousness, and selfishness of a certain aristocracy make +it all the more regarded by its worshippers? and do not the +clownish and gutter-blood admirers of Mr. Flamson like him all +the more because they are conscious that he is a knave? If +such is the case —and, alas! is it not the case?—they +cannot be too frequently told that fine clothes, wealth, and +titles adorn a person in proportion as he adorns them; that if +worn by the magnanimous and good they are ornaments indeed, but +if by the vile and profligate they are merely san benitos, and +only serve to make their infamy doubly apparent; and that a +person in seedy raiment and tattered hat, possessed of courage, +kindness, and virtue, is entitled to more respect from those to +whom his virtues are manifested than any cruel profligate +emperor, selfish aristocrat, or knavish millionaire in the +world.</p> +<p>The writer has no intention of saying that all in England are +affected with the absurd mania for gentility; nor is such a +statement made in the book; it is shown therein that individuals +of certain classes can prize a gentleman, notwithstanding seedy +raiment, dusty shoes or tattered hat,—for example, the +young Irishman, the rich genius, the postillion, and his +employer. Again, when the life of the hero is given to the +world, amidst the howl about its lowness and vulgarity, raised by +the servile crew whom its independence of sentiment has stung, +more than one powerful voice has been heard testifying +approbation of its learning and the purity of its morality. +That there is some salt in England, minds not swayed by mere +externals, he is fully convinced; if he were not, he would spare +himself the trouble of writing; but to the fact that the +generality of his countrymen are basely grovelling before the +shrine of what they are pleased to call gentility, he cannot shut +his eyes.</p> +<p>Oh! what a clever person that Cockney was, who, travelling in +the Aberdeen railroad carriage, after edifying the company with +his remarks on various subjects, gave it as his opinion that +Lieutenant P--- would, in future, be shunned by all respectable +society! And what a simple person that elderly gentleman +was, who, abruptly starting, asked in rather an authoritative +voice, “and why should Lieutenant P--- be shunned by +respectable society?” and who, after entering into what was +said to be a masterly analysis of the entire evidence of the +case, concluded by stating, “that having been accustomed to +all kinds of evidence all his life, he had never known a case in +which the accused had obtained a more complete and triumphant +justification than Lieutenant P--- had done in the late +trial.”</p> +<p>Now the Cockney, who is said to have been a very foppish +Cockney, was perfectly right in what he said, and therein +manifested a knowledge of the English mind and character, and +likewise of the modern English language, to which his catechist, +who, it seems, was a distinguished member of the Scottish bar, +could lay no pretensions. The Cockney knew what the Lord of +Session knew not, that the British public is gentility crazy, and +he knew, moreover, that gentility and respectability are +synonymous. No one in England is genteel or respectable +that is “looked at,” who is the victim of oppression; +he may be pitied for a time, but when did not pity terminate in +contempt? A poor, harmless young officer—but why +enter into the details of the infamous case? they are but too +well known, and if ever cruelty, pride, and cowardice, and things +much worse than even cruelty, cowardice, and pride were brought +to light, and, at the same time, countenanced, they were in that +case. What availed the triumphant justification of the poor +victim? There was at first a roar of indignation against +his oppressors, but how long did it last? He had been +turned out of the service, they remained in it with their red +coats and epaulets; he was merely the son of a man who had +rendered good service to his country, they were, for the most +part, highly connected—they were in the extremest degree +genteel, he quite the reverse; so the nation wavered, considered, +thought the genteel side was the safest after all, and then with +the cry of, “Oh! there is nothing like gentility,” +ratted bodily. Newspaper and public turned against the +victim, scouted him, apologized for the—what should they be +called?—who were not only admitted into the most +respectable society, but courted to come, the spots not merely of +wine on their military clothes, giving them a kind of +poignancy. But there is a God in heaven; the British +glories are tarnished—Providence has never smiled on +British arms since that case—oh! Balaklava! thy name +interpreted is net of fishes, and well dost thou deserve that +name. How many a scarlet golden fish has of late perished +in the mud amidst thee, cursing the genteel service, and the +genteel leader which brought him to such a doom.</p> +<p>Whether the rage for gentility is most prevalent amongst the +upper, middle, or lower classes it is difficult to say; the +priest in the text seems to think that it is exhibited in the +most decided manner in the middle class; it is the writer’s +opinion, however, that in no class is it more strongly developed +than in the lower: what they call being well-born goes a great +way amongst them, but the possession of money much farther, +whence Mr. Flamson’s influence over them. Their rage +against, and scorn for, any person who by his courage and talents +has advanced himself in life, and still remains poor, are +indescribable; “he is no better than ourselves,” they +say, “why should he be above us?”—for they have +no conception that anybody has a right to ascendency over +themselves except by birth or money. This feeling amongst +the vulgar has been, to a certain extent, the bane of two +services, naval and military. The writer does not make this +assertion rashly; he observed this feeling at work in the army +when a child, and he has good reason for believing that it was as +strongly at work in the navy at the same time, and is still as +prevalent in both. Why are not brave men raised from the +ranks? is frequently the cry; why are not brave sailors +promoted? The Lord help brave soldiers and sailors who are +promoted; they have less to undergo from the high airs of their +brother officers, and those are hard enough to endure, than from +the insolence of the men. Soldiers and sailors promoted to +command are said to be in general tyrants; in nine cases out of +ten, when they are tyrants, they have been obliged to have +recourse to extreme severity in order to protect themselves from +the insolence and mutinous spirit of the men,—“He is +no better than ourselves: shoot him, bayonet him, or fling him +overboard!” they say of some obnoxious individual raised +above them by his merit. Soldiers and sailors, in general, +will bear any amount of tyranny from a lordly sot, or the son of +a man who has “plenty of brass”—their own +term—but will mutiny against the just orders of a skilful +and brave officer who “is no better than +themselves.” There was the affair of the +“Bounty,” for example: Bligh was one of the best +seamen that ever trod deck, and one of the bravest of men; proofs +of his seamanship he gave by steering, amidst dreadful weather, a +deeply-laden boat for nearly four thousand miles over an almost +unknown ocean—of his bravery, at the fight of Copenhagen, +one of the most desperate ever fought, of which after Nelson he +was the hero: he was, moreover, not an unkind man; but the crew +of the “Bounty” mutinied against him, and set him +half naked in an open boat, with certain of his men who remained +faithful to him, and ran away with the ship. Their +principal motive for doing so was an idea, whether true or +groundless the writer cannot say, that Bligh was “no better +than themselves;” he was certainly neither a lord’s +illegitimate, nor possessed of twenty thousand pounds. The +writer knows what he is writing about, having been acquainted in +his early years with an individual who was turned adrift with +Bligh, and who died about the year ’22, a lieutenant in the +navy, in a provincial town in which the writer was brought +up. The ringleaders in the mutiny were two scoundrels, +Christian and Young, who had great influence with the crew, +because they were genteelly connected. Bligh, after leaving +the “Bounty,” had considerable difficulty in managing +the men who had shared his fate, because they considered +themselves “as good men as he,” notwithstanding, that +to his conduct and seamanship they had alone to look, under +Heaven, for salvation from the ghastly perils that surrounded +them. Bligh himself, in his journal, alludes to this +feeling. Once, when he and his companions landed on a +desert island, one of them said, with a mutinous look, that he +considered himself “as good a man as he;” Bligh, +seizing a cutlass, called upon him to take another and defend +himself, whereupon the man said that Bligh was going to kill him, +and made all manner of concessions; now why did this fellow +consider himself as good a man as Bligh? Was he as good a +seaman? no, nor a tenth part as good. As brave a man? no, +nor a tenth part as brave; and of these facts he was perfectly +well aware, but bravery and seamanship stood for nothing with +him, as they still stand with thousands of his class; Bligh was +not genteel by birth or money, therefore Bligh was no better than +himself. Had Bligh, before he sailed, got a twenty-thousand +pound prize in the lottery, he would have experienced no +insolence from this fellow, for there would have been no mutiny +in the “Bounty.” “He is our +betters,” the crew would have said, “and it is our +duty to obey him.”</p> +<p>The wonderful power of gentility in England is exemplified in +nothing more than in what it is producing amongst Jews, Gypsies, +and Quakers. It is breaking up their venerable +communities. All the better, some one will say. Alas! +alas! It is making the wealthy Jews forsake the synagogue +for the opera-house, or the gentility chapel, in which a disciple +of Mr. Platitude, in a white surplice, preaches a sermon at +noon-day from a desk, on each side of which is a flaming +taper. It is making them abandon their ancient literature, +their “Mischna,” their “Gemara,” their +“Zohar,” for gentility novels, “The Young +Duke,” the most unexceptionably genteel book ever written, +being the principal favourite. It makes the young Jew +ashamed of the young Jewess, it makes her ashamed of the young +Jew. The young Jew marries an opera-dancer, or if the +dancer will not have him, as is frequently the case, the cast-off +Miss of the Honourable Spencer So-and-so. It makes the +young Jewess accept the honourable offer of a cashiered +lieutenant of the Bengal Native Infantry; or, if such a person +does not come forward, the dishonourable offer of a cornet of a +regiment of crack hussars. It makes poor Jews, male and +female, forsake the synagogue for the sixpenny theatre or penny +hop; the Jew to take up with an Irish female of loose character, +and the Jewess with a musician of the Guards, or the Tipperary +servant of Captain Mulligan. With respect to the gypsies, +it is making the women what they never were before—harlots; +and the men what they never were before—careless fathers +and husbands. It has made the daughter of Ursula the chaste +take up with the base drummer of a wild-beast show. It +makes Gorgiko Brown, the gypsy man, leave his tent and his old +wife, of an evening, and thrust himself into society which could +well dispense with him. “Brother,” said Mr. +Petulengro to the Romany Rye, after telling him many things +connected with the decadence of gypsyism, “there is one +Gorgiko Brown, who, with a face as black as a tea-kettle, wishes +to be mistaken for a Christian tradesman; he goes into the +parlour of a third-rate inn of an evening, calls for rum and +water, and attempts to enter into conversation with the company +about politics and business; the company flout him and give him +the cold shoulder, or perhaps complain to the landlord, who comes +and asks him what business he has in the parlour, telling him if +he wants to drink to go into the tap-room, and perhaps collars +him and kicks him out, provided he refuses to move.” +With respect to the Quakers, it makes the young people like the +young Jews, crazy after gentility diversions, worship, marriages, +or connections, and makes old Pease do what it makes Gorgiko +Brown do, thrust himself into society which could well dispense +with him, and out of which he is not kicked, because unlike the +gypsy he is not poor. The writer would say much more on +these points, but want of room prevents him; he must therefore +request the reader to have patience until he can lay before the +world a pamphlet, which he has been long meditating, to be +entitled “Remarks on the strikingly similar Effects which a +Love for Gentility has produced, and is producing, amongst Jews, +Gypsies, and Quakers.”</p> +<p>The Priest in the book has much to say on the subject of this +gentility-nonsense; no person can possibly despise it more +thoroughly than that very remarkable individual seems to do, yet +he hails its prevalence with pleasure, knowing the benefits which +will result from it to the church of which he is the sneering +slave. “The English are mad after gentility,” +says he; “well, all the better for us; their religion for a +long time past has been a plain and simple one, and consequently +by no means genteel; they’ll quit it for ours, which is the +perfection of what they admire; with which Templars, Hospitalers, +mitred abbots, Gothic abbeys, long-drawn aisles, golden censers, +incense, et cetera, are connected; nothing, or next to nothing, +of Christ, it is true, but weighed in the balance against +gentility, where will Christianity be? why, kicking against the +beam—ho! ho!” And in connection with the +gentility-nonsense, he expatiates largely, and with much +contempt, on a species of literature by which the interests of +his church in England have been very much advanced—all +genuine priests have a thorough contempt for everything which +tends to advance the interests of their church—this +literature is made up of pseudo Jacobitism, Charlie o’er +the waterism, or nonsense about Charlie o’er the +water. And the writer will now take the liberty of saying a +few words about it on his own account.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER VI—On Scotch Gentility-Nonsense—Charlie +o’er the Waterism.</h3> +<p>Of the literature just alluded to Scott was the +inventor. It is founded on the fortunes and misfortunes of +the Stuart family, of which Scott was the zealous defender and +apologist, doing all that in his power lay to represent the +members of it as noble, chivalrous, high-minded, unfortunate +princes; though, perhaps, of all the royal families that ever +existed upon the earth, this family was the worst. It was +unfortunate enough, it is true; but it owed its misfortunes +entirely to its crimes, viciousness, bad faith, and +cowardice. Nothing will be said of it here until it made +its appearance in England to occupy the English throne.</p> +<p>The first of the family which we have to do with, James, was a +dirty, cowardly miscreant, of whom the less said the +better. His son, Charles the First, was a +tyrant—exceedingly cruel and revengeful, but weak and +dastardly; he caused a poor fellow to be hanged in London, who +was not his subject, because he had heard that the unfortunate +creature had once bitten his own glove at Cadiz, in Spain, at the +mention of his name; and he permitted his own bull-dog, +Strafford, to be executed by his own enemies, though the only +crime of Strafford was, that he had barked furiously at those +enemies, and had worried two or three of them, when Charles +shouted, “Fetch ’em.” He was a bitter, +but yet a despicable enemy, and the coldest and most worthless of +friends; for though he always hoped to be able, some time or +other, to hang his enemies, he was always ready to curry favour +with them, more especially if he could do so at the expense of +his friends. He was the haughtiest, yet meanest of +mankind. He once caned a young nobleman for appearing +before him in the drawing-room not dressed exactly according to +the court etiquette; yet he condescended to flatter and +compliment him who, from principle, was his bitterest enemy, +namely, Harrison, when the republican colonel was conducting him +as a prisoner to London. His bad faith was notorious; it +was from abhorrence of the first public instance which he gave of +his bad faith, his breaking his word to the Infanta of Spain, +that the poor Hiberno-Spaniard bit his glove at Cadiz; and it was +his notorious bad faith which eventually cost him his head; for +the Republicans would gladly have spared him, provided they could +put the slightest confidence in any promise, however solemn, +which he might have made to them. Of them, it would be +difficult to say whether they most hated or despised him. +Religion he had none. One day he favoured Popery; the next, +on hearing certain clamours of the people, he sent his +wife’s domestics back packing to France, because they were +Papists. Papists, however, should make him a saint, for he +was certainly the cause of the taking of Rochelle.</p> +<p>His son, Charles the Second, though he passed his youth in the +school of adversity, learned no other lesson from it than the +following one—take care of yourself, and never do an +action, either good or bad, which is likely to bring you into any +great difficulty; and this maxim he acted up to as soon as he +came to the throne. He was a Papist, but took especial care +not to acknowledge his religion, at which he frequently scoffed, +till just before his last gasp, when he knew that he could lose +nothing, and hoped to gain everything by it. He was always +in want of money, but took care not to tax the country beyond all +endurable bounds; preferring to such a bold and dangerous course, +to become the pensioner of Louis, to whom, in return for his +gold, he sacrificed the honour and interests of Britain. He +was too lazy and sensual to delight in playing the part of a +tyrant himself; but he never checked tyranny in others save in +one instance. He permitted beastly butchers to commit +unmentionable horrors on the feeble, unarmed, and disunited +Covenanters of Scotland, but checked them when they would fain +have endeavoured to play the same game on the numerous united, +dogged, and warlike Independents of England. To show his +filial piety, he bade the hangman dishonour the corpses of some +of his father’s judges, before whom, when alive, he ran +like a screaming hare; but permitted those who had lost their all +in supporting his father’s cause, to pine in misery and +want. He would give to a painted harlot a thousand pounds +for a loathsome embrace, and to a player or buffoon a hundred for +a trumpery pun, but would refuse a penny to the widow or orphan +of an old Royalist soldier. He was the personification of +selfishness; and as he loved and cared for no one, so did no one +love or care for him. So little had he gained the respect +or affection of those who surrounded him, that after his body had +undergone an after-death examination, parts of it were thrown +down the sinks of the palace, to become eventually the prey of +the swine and ducks of Westminster.</p> +<p>His brother, who succeeded him, James the Second, was a +Papist, but sufficiently honest to acknowledge his Popery, but +upon the whole, he was a poor creature; though a tyrant, he was +cowardly, had he not been a coward he would never have lost his +throne. There were plenty of lovers of tyranny in England +who would have stood by him, provided he would have stood by +them, and would, though not Papists, have encouraged him in his +attempt to bring back England beneath the sway of Rome, and +perhaps would eventually have become Papists themselves; but the +nation raising a cry against him, and his son-in-law, the Prince +of Orange, invading the country, he forsook his friends, of whom +he had a host, but for whom he cared little—left his +throne, for which he cared a great deal—and Popery in +England, for which he cared yet more, to their fate, and escaped +to France, from whence, after taking a little heart, he repaired +to Ireland, where he was speedily joined by a gallant army of +Papists whom he basely abandoned at the Boyne, running away in a +most lamentable condition, at the time when by showing a little +courage he might have enabled them to conquer. This worthy, +in his last will, bequeathed his heart to England—his right +arm to Scotland—and his bowels to Ireland. What the +English and Scotch said to their respective bequests is not +known, but it is certain that an old Irish priest, supposed to +have been a great-grand-uncle of the present Reverend Father +Murtagh, on hearing of the bequest to Ireland, fell into a great +passion, and having been brought up at “Paris and +Salamanca,” expressed his indignation in the following +strain:—“Malditas sean tus tripas! teniamos bastante +del olor de tus tripas al tiempo de tu nuida dela batalla del +Boyne!”</p> +<p>His son, generally called the Old Pretender, though born in +England, was carried in his infancy to France, where he was +brought up in the strictest principles of Popery, which +principles, however, did not prevent him becoming (when did they +ever prevent any one?) a worthless and profligate scoundrel; +there are some doubts as to the reality of his being a son of +James, which doubts are probably unfounded, the grand proof of +his legitimacy being the thorough baseness of his +character. It was said of his father that he could speak +well, and it may be said of him that he could write well, the +only thing he could do which was worth doing, always supposing +that there is any merit in being able to write. He was of a +mean appearance, and, like his father, pusillanimous to a +degree. The meanness of his appearance disgusted, and his +pusillanimity discouraged the Scotch when he made his appearance +amongst them in the year 1715, some time after the standard of +rebellion had been hoisted by Mar. He only stayed a short +time in Scotland, and then, seized with panic, retreated to +France, leaving his friends to shift for themselves as they best +could. He died a pensioner of the Pope.</p> +<p>The son of this man, Charles Edward, of whom so much in later +years has been said and written, was a worthless ignorant youth, +and a profligate and illiterate old man. When young, the +best that can be said of him is, that he had occasionally springs +of courage, invariably at the wrong time and place, which merely +served to lead his friends into inextricable difficulties. +When old, he was loathsome and contemptible to both friend and +foe. His wife loathed him, and for the most terrible of +reasons; she did not pollute his couch, for to do that was +impossible—he had made it so vile; but she betrayed it, +inviting to it not only Alfieri the Filthy, but the coarsest +grooms. Doctor King, the warmest and almost last adherent +of his family, said, that there was not a vice or crime of which +he was not guilty; as for his foes, they scorned to harm him even +when in their power. In the year 1745 he came down from the +Highlands of Scotland, which had long been a focus of +rebellion. He was attended by certain clans of the +Highlands, desperadoes used to free-bootery from their infancy, +and, consequently, to the use of arms, and possessed of a certain +species of discipline; with these he defeated at Prestonpans a +body of men called soldiers, but who were in reality peasants and +artizans, levied about a month before, without discipline or +confidence in each other, and who were miserably massacred by the +Highland army; he subsequently invaded England, nearly destitute +of regular soldiers, and penetrated as far as Derby, from which +place he retreated on learning that regular forces which had been +hastily recalled from Flanders were coming against him, with the +Duke of Cumberland at their head; he was pursued, and his +rearguard overtaken and defeated by the dragoons of the duke at +Clifton, from which place the rebels retreated in great confusion +across the Eden into Scotland, where they commenced dancing +Highland reels and strathspeys on the bank of the river, for joy +at their escape, whilst a number of wretched girls, paramours of +some of them, were perishing in the waters of the swollen river +in an attempt to follow them; they themselves passed over by +eighties and by hundreds, arm in arm, for mutual safety, without +the loss of a man, but they left the poor paramours to shift for +themselves, nor did any of these canny people after passing the +stream dash back to rescue a single female life,—no, they +were too well employed upon the bank in dancing strathspeys to +the tune of “Charlie o’er the water.” It +was, indeed, Charlie o’er the water, and canny Highlanders +o’er the water, but where were the poor prostitutes +meantime? <i>In the water</i>.</p> +<p>The Jacobite farce, or tragedy, was speedily brought to a +close by the battle of Culloden; there did Charlie wish himself +back again o’er the water, exhibiting the most unmistakable +signs of pusillanimity; there were the clans cut to pieces, at +least those who could be brought to the charge, and there fell +Giles Mac Bean, or as he was called in Gaelic, Giliosa Mac +Beathan, a kind of giant, six feet four inches and a quarter +high, “than whom,” as his wife said in a coronach she +made upon him, “no man who stood at Cuiloitr was +taller”—Giles Mac Bean the Major of the clan +Cattan—a great drinker—a great fisher—a great +shooter, and the champion of the Highland host.</p> +<p>The last of the Stuarts was a cardinal.</p> +<p>Such were the Stuarts, such their miserable history. +They were dead and buried in every sense of the word until Scott +resuscitated them—how? by the power of fine writing and by +calling to his aid that strange divinity, gentility. He +wrote splendid novels about the Stuarts, in which he represents +them as unlike what they really were as the graceful and +beautiful papillon is unlike the hideous and filthy worm. +In a word, he made them genteel, and that was enough to give them +paramount sway over the minds of the British people. The +public became Stuart-mad, and everybody, specially the women, +said, “What a pity it was that we hadn’t a Stuart to +govern.” All parties, Whig, Tory, or Radical, became +Jacobite at heart, and admirers of absolute power. The +Whigs talked about the liberty of the subject, and the Radicals +about the rights of man still, but neither party cared a straw +for what it talked about, and mentally swore that, as soon as by +means of such stuff they could get places, and fill their +pockets, they would be as Jacobite as the Jacobs +themselves. As for Tories, no great change in them was +necessary; everything favouring absolutism and slavery being +congenial to them. So the whole nation, that is, the +reading part of the nation, with some exceptions, for thank God +there has always been some salt in England, went over the water +to Charlie. But going over to Charlie was not enough, they +must, or at least a considerable part of them, go over to Rome +too, or have a hankering to do so. As the Priest +sarcastically observes in the text, “As all the Jacobs were +Papists, so the good folks who through Scott’s novels +admire the Jacobs must be Papists too.” An idea got +about that the religion of such genteel people as the Stuarts +must be the climax of gentility, and that idea was quite +sufficient. Only let a thing, whether temporal or +spiritual, be considered genteel in England, and if it be not +followed it is strange indeed; so Scott’s writings not only +made the greater part of the nation Jacobite, but Popish.</p> +<p>Here some people will exclaim—whose opinions remain +sound and uncontaminated—what you say is perhaps true with +respect to the Jacobite nonsense at present so prevalent being +derived from Scott’s novels, but the Popish nonsense, which +people of the genteeler classes are so fond of, is derived from +Oxford. We sent our sons to Oxford nice honest lads, +educated in the principles of the Church of England, and at the +end of the first term they came home puppies, talking Popish +nonsense, which they had learned from the pedants to whose care +we had entrusted them; ay, not only Popery but Jacobitism, which +they hardly carried with them from home, for we never heard them +talking Jacobitism before they had been at Oxford; but now their +conversation is a farrago of Popish and Jacobite +stuff—“Complines and Claverse.” Now, what +these honest folks say is, to a certain extent, founded on fact; +the Popery which has overflowed the land during the last fourteen +or fifteen years, has come immediately from Oxford, and likewise +some of the Jacobitism, Popish and Jacobite nonsense, and little +or nothing else, having been taught at Oxford for about that +number of years. But whence did the pedants get the Popish +nonsense with which they have corrupted youth? Why, from +the same quarter from which they got the Jacobite nonsense with +which they have inoculated those lads who were not inoculated +with it before—Scott’s novels. Jacobitism and +Laudism, a kind of half Popery, had at one time been very +prevalent at Oxford, but both had been long consigned to oblivion +there, and people at Oxford cared as little about Laud as they +did about the Pretender. Both were dead and buried there, +as everywhere else, till Scott called them out of their graves, +when the pedants of Oxford hailed both—ay, and the Pope, +too, as soon as Scott had made the old fellow fascinating, +through particular novels, more especially the +“Monastery” and “Abbot.” Then the +quiet, respectable, honourable Church of England would no longer +do for the pedants of Oxford; they must belong to a more genteel +church—they were ashamed at first to be downright +Romans—so they would be Lauds. The pale-looking, but +exceedingly genteel non-juring clergyman in Waverley was a Laud; +but they soon became tired of being Lauds, for Laud’s +Church, gew-gawish and idolatrous as it was, was not sufficiently +tinselly and idolatrous for them, so they must be Popes, but in a +sneaking way, still calling themselves Church-of-England men, in +order to batten on the bounty of the church which they were +betraying, and likewise have opportunities of corrupting such +lads as might still resort to Oxford with principles +uncontaminated.</p> +<p>So the respectable people, whose opinions are still sound, +are, to a certain extent, right when they say that the tide of +Popery, which has flowed over the land, has come from +Oxford. It did come immediately from Oxford, but how did it +get to Oxford? Why, from Scott’s novels. Oh! +that sermon which was the first manifestation of Oxford feeling, +preached at Oxford some time in the year ’38 by a divine of +a weak and confused intellect, in which Popery was mixed up with +Jacobitism! The present writer remembers perfectly well, on +reading some extracts from it at the time in a newspaper, on the +top of a coach, exclaiming—“Why, the simpleton has +been pilfering from Walter Scott’s novels!”</p> +<p>O Oxford pedants! Oxford pedants! ye whose politics and +religion are both derived from Scott’s novels! what a pity +it is that some lad of honest parents, whose mind ye are +endeavouring to stultify with your nonsense about +“Complines and Claverse,” has not the spirit to start +up and cry, “Confound your gibberish! I’ll have +none of it. Hurrah for the Church, and the principles of my +<i>father</i>!”</p> +<h3>CHAPTER VII—Same Subject continued.</h3> +<p>Now what could have induced Scott to write novels tending to +make people Papists and Jacobites, and in love with arbitrary +power? Did he think that Christianity was a gaudy +mummery? He did not, he could not, for he had read the +Bible; yet was he fond of gaudy mummeries, fond of talking about +them. Did he believe that the Stuarts were a good family, +and fit to govern a country like Britain? He knew that they +were a vicious, worthless crew, and that Britain was a degraded +country as long as they swayed the sceptre; but for those facts +he cared nothing, they governed in a way which he liked, for he +had an abstract love of despotism, and an abhorrence of +everything savouring of freedom and the rights of man in +general. His favourite political picture was a joking, +profligate, careless king, nominally absolute—the heads of +great houses paying court to, but in reality governing, that +king, whilst revelling with him on the plunder of a nation, and a +set of crouching, grovelling vassals (the literal meaning of +vassal is a wretch), who, after allowing themselves to be +horsewhipped, would take a bone if flung to them, and be +grateful; so that in love with mummery, though he knew what +Christianity was, no wonder he admired such a church as that of +Rome, and that which Laud set up; and by nature formed to be the +holder of the candle to ancient worm-eaten and profligate +families, no wonder that all his sympathies were with the Stuarts +and their dissipated insolent party, and all his hatred directed +against those who endeavoured to check them in their proceedings, +and to raise the generality of mankind something above a state of +vassalage, that is, wretchedness. Those who were born +great, were, if he could have had his will, always to remain +great, however worthless their characters. Those who were +born low, were always to remain so, however great their talents; +though, if that rule were carried out, where would he have been +himself?</p> +<p>In the book which he called the “History of Napoleon +Bonaparte,” in which he plays the sycophant to all the +legitimate crowned heads in Europe, whatever their crimes, vices, +or miserable imbecilities, he, in his abhorrence of everything +low which by its own vigour makes itself illustrious, calls Murat +of the sabre the son of a pastry-cook, of a Marseilleise +pastry-cook. It is a pity that people who give themselves +hoity-toity airs—and the Scotch in general are wonderfully +addicted to giving themselves hoity-toity airs, and checking +people better than themselves with their birth <a +name="citation6"></a><a href="#footnote6" +class="citation">[6]</a> and their country—it is a great +pity that such people do not look at home-son of a pastry-cook, +of a Marseilleise pastry-cook! Well, and what was Scott +himself? Why, son of a pettifogger, of an Edinburgh +pettifogger. “Oh, but Scott was descended from the +old cow-stealers of Buccleuch, and therefore—” +descended from old cow-stealers, was he? Well, had he +nothing to boast of beyond such a pedigree, he would have lived +and died the son of a pettifogger, and been forgotten, and +deservedly so; but he possessed talents, and by his talents rose +like Murat, and like him will be remembered for his talents +alone, and deservedly so. “Yes, but Murat was still +the son of a pastry-cook, and though he was certainly good at the +sabre, and cut his way to a throne, still—” +Lord! what fools there are in the world; but as no one can be +thought anything of in this world without a pedigree, the writer +will now give a pedigree for Murat, of a very different character +from the cow-stealing one of Scott, but such a one as the +proudest he might not disdain to claim. Scott was descended +from the old cow-stealers of Buccleuch—was he? Good! +and Murat was descended from the old Moors of Spain, from the +Abencerages (sons of the saddle) of Granada. The name Murat +is Arabic, and is the same as Murad (Le Desiré, or the +wished-for one). Scott in his genteel Life of Bonaparte, +says that “when Murat was in Egypt, the similarity between +the name of the celebrated Mameluke Mourad and that of +Bonaparte’s Meilleur Sabreur was remarked, and became the +subject of jest amongst the comrades of the gallant +Frenchman.” But the writer of the novel of Bonaparte +did not know that the names were one and the same. Now +which was the best pedigree, that of the son of the pastry-cook, +or that of the son of the pettifogger? Which was the best +blood? Let us observe the workings of the two bloods. +He who had the blood of the “sons of the saddle” in +him, became the wonderful cavalier of the most wonderful host +that ever went forth to conquest, won for himself a crown, and +died the death of a soldier, leaving behind him a son, only +inferior to himself in strength, in prowess, and in +horsemanship. The descendant of the cow-stealer became a +poet, a novel writer, the panegyrist of great folk and genteel +people; became insolvent because, though an author, he deemed it +ungenteel to be mixed up with the business part of the +authorship; died paralytic and broken-hearted because he could no +longer give entertainments to great folks, leaving behind him, +amongst other children, who were never heard of, a son, who, +through his father’s interest, had become +lieutenant-colonel in a genteel cavalry regiment. A son who +was ashamed of his father because his father was an author; a son +who—paugh—why ask which was the best blood?</p> +<p>So, owing to his rage for gentility, Scott must needs become +the apologist of the Stuarts and their party; but God made this +man pay dearly for taking the part of the wicked against the +good; for lauding up to the skies the miscreants and robbers, and +calumniating the noble spirits of Britain, the salt of England, +and his own country. As God had driven the Stuarts from +their throne, and their followers from their estates, making them +vagabonds and beggars on the face of the earth, taking from them +all that they cared for, so did that same God, who knows +perfectly well how and where to strike, deprive the apologist of +that wretched crew of all that rendered life pleasant in his +eyes, the lack of which paralysed him in body and mind, rendered +him pitiable to others, loathsome to himself,—so much so, +that he once said, “Where is the beggar who would change +places with me, notwithstanding all my fame?” Ah! God +knows perfectly well how to strike. He permitted him to +retain all his literary fame to the very last—his literary +fame for which he cared nothing; but what became of the sweetness +of life, his fine house, his grand company, and his +entertainments? The grand house ceased to be his; he was +only permitted to live in it on sufferance, and whatever grandeur +it might still retain, it soon became as desolate a looking house +as any misanthrope could wish to see—where were the grand +entertainments and the grand company? there are no grand +entertainments where there is no money; no lords and ladies where +there are no entertainments—and there lay the poor lodger +in the desolate house, groaning on a bed no longer his, smitten +by the hand of God in the part where he was most +vulnerable. Of what use telling such a man to take comfort, +for he had written the “Minstrel” and “Rob +Roy,”—telling him to think of his literary +fame? Literary fame, indeed! he wanted back his lost +gentility:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Retain my altar,<br /> +I care nothing for it—but, oh! touch not my +<i>beard</i>.”</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Porny’s</span> <i>War of the Gods</i>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>He dies, his children die too, and then comes the crowning +judgment of God on what remains of his race and the house which +he had built. He was not a Papist himself, nor did he wish +any one belonging to him to be Popish, for he had read enough of +the Bible to know that no one can be saved through Popery, yet +had he a sneaking affection for it, and would at times in an +underhand manner, give it a good word both in writing and +discourse, because it was a gaudy kind of worship, and ignorance +and vassalage prevailed so long as it flourished—but he +certainly did not wish any of his people to become Papists, nor +the house which he had built to become a Popish house, though the +very name he gave it savoured of Popery; but Popery becomes +fashionable through his novels and poems—the only one that +remains of his race, a female grandchild, marries a person who, +following the fashion, becomes a Papist, and makes her a Papist +too. Money abounds with the husband, who buys the house, +and then the house becomes the rankest Popish house in +Britain. A superstitious person might almost imagine that +one of the old Scottish Covenanters, whilst the grand house was +being built from the profits resulting from the sale of writings +favouring Popery and persecution, and calumniatory of +Scotland’s saints and martyrs, had risen from the grave, +and banned Scott, his race, and his house, by reading a certain +psalm.</p> +<p>In saying what he has said about Scott, the author has not +been influenced by any feeling of malice or ill-will, but simply +by a regard for truth, and a desire to point out to his +countrymen the harm which has resulted from the perusal of his +works;—he is not one of those who would depreciate the +talents of Scott—he admires his talents, both as a prose +writer and a poet; as a poet especially he admires him, and +believes him to have been by far the greatest, with perhaps the +exception of Mickiewicz, who only wrote for unfortunate Poland, +that Europe has given birth to during the last hundred +years. As a prose writer he admires him, less, it is true, +but his admiration for him in that capacity is very high, and he +only laments that he prostituted his talents to the cause of the +Stuarts and gentility. What book of fiction of the present +century can you read twice, with the exception of +“Waverley” and “Rob Roy?” There is +“Pelham,” it is true, which the writer of these lines +has seen a Jewess reading in the steppe of Debreczin, and which a +young Prussian Baron, a great traveller, whom he met at +Constantinople in ’44 told him he always carried in his +valise. And, in conclusion, he will say, in order to show +the opinion which he entertains of the power of Scott as a +writer, that he did for the sceptre of the wretched Pretender +what all the kings of Europe could not do for his +body—placed it on the throne of these realms; and for +Popery, what Popes and Cardinals strove in vain to do for three +centuries—brought back its mummeries and nonsense into the +temples of the British Isles.</p> +<p>Scott during his lifetime had a crowd of imitators, who, +whether they wrote history so called—poetry so +called—or novels—nobody would call a book a novel if +he could call it anything else—wrote Charlie o’er the +water nonsense; and now that he has been dead nearly a quarter of +a century, there are others daily springing up who are striving +to imitate Scott in his Charlie o’er the water +nonsense—for nonsense it is, even when flowing from his +pen. They, too, must write Jacobite histories, Jacobite +songs, and Jacobite novels, and much the same figure as the +scoundrel menials in the comedy cut when personating their +masters, and retailing their masters’ conversation, do they +cut as Walter Scotts. In their histories, they too talk +about the Prince and Glenfinnan, and the pibroch; and in their +songs about “Claverse” and “Bonny +Dundee.” But though they may be Scots, they are not +Walter Scotts. But it is perhaps chiefly in the novel that +you see the veritable hog in armour; the time of the novel is of +course the ’15 or ’45; the hero a Jacobite, and +connected with one or other of the enterprises of those periods; +and the author, to show how unprejudiced he is, and what +<i>original</i> views he takes of subjects, must needs speak up +for Popery, whenever he has occasion to mention it; though, with +all his originality, when he brings his hero and the vagabonds +with which he is concerned before a barricadoed house, belonging +to the Whigs, he can make them get into it by no other method +than that which Scott makes his rioters employ to get into the +Tolbooth, <i>burning down</i> the door.</p> +<p>To express the more than utter foolishness of this latter +Charlie o’er the water nonsense, whether in rhyme or prose, +there is but one word, and that word a Scotch word. Scotch, +the sorriest of jargons, compared with which even Roth Welsch is +dignified and expressive, has yet one word to express what would +be inexpressible by any word or combination of words in any +language, or in any other jargon in the world; and very properly; +for as the nonsense is properly Scotch, so should the word be +Scotch which expresses it—that word is +“fushionless,” pronounced <i>fooshionless</i>; and +when the writer has called the nonsense fooshionless—and he +does call it fooshionless—he has nothing more to say, but +leaves the nonsense to its fate.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER VIII—On Canting Nonsense.</h3> +<p>The writer now wishes to say something on the subject of +canting nonsense, of which there is a great deal in +England. There are various cants in England, amongst which +is the religious cant. He is not going to discuss the +subject of religious cant: lest, however, he should be +misunderstood, he begs leave to repeat that he is a sincere +member of the Church of England, in which he believes there is +more religion, and consequently less cant, than in any other +church in the world; nor is he going to discuss many other cants; +he shall content himself with saying something about +two—the temperance cant and the unmanly cant. +Temperance canters say that “it is unlawful to drink a +glass of ale.” Unmanly canters say that “it is +unlawful to use one’s fists.” The writer begs +leave to tell both these species of canters that they do not +speak words of truth.</p> +<p>It is very lawful to take a cup of ale, or wine, for the +purpose of cheering or invigorating yourself when you are faint +and down-hearted; and likewise to give a cup of ale or wine to +others when they are in a similar condition. The Holy +Scripture sayeth nothing to the contrary, but rather encourageth +people in so doing by the text, “Wine maketh glad the heart +of man.” But it is not lawful to intoxicate yourself +with frequent cups of ale or wine, nor to make others +intoxicated, nor does the Holy Scripture say it is. The +Holy Scripture no more says that it is lawful to intoxicate +yourself or others, than it says that it is unlawful to take a +cup of ale or wine yourself, or to give one to others. Noah +is not commended in the Scripture for making himself drunken on +the wine he brewed. Nor is it said that the Saviour, when +he supplied the guests with first-rate wine at the +marriage-feast, told them to make themselves drunk upon it. +He is said to have supplied them with first-rate wine, but He +doubtless left the quantity which each should drink to each +party’s reason and discretion. When you set a good +dinner before your guests, you do not expect that they should +gorge themselves with the victuals you set before them. +Wine may be abused, and so may a leg of mutton.</p> +<p>Second. It is lawful for any one to use his fists in his +own defence, or in the defence of others, provided they +can’t help themselves; but it is not lawful to use them for +purposes of tyranny or brutality. If you are attacked by a +ruffian, as the elderly individual in Lavengro is in the +inn-yard, it is quite lawful, if you can, to give him as good a +thrashing as the elderly individual gave the brutal coachman; and +if you see a helpless woman—perhaps your own +sister—set upon by a drunken lord, a drunken coachman, or a +drunken coalheaver, or a brute of any description, either drunk +or sober, it is not only lawful but laudable, to give them, if +you can, a good drubbing; but it is not lawful because you have a +strong pair of fists, and know how to use them, to go swaggering +through a fair, jostling against unoffending individuals; should +you do so, you would be served quite right if you were to get a +drubbing, more particularly if you were served out by some one +less strong, but more skilful than yourself—even as the +coachman was served out by a pupil of the immortal +Broughton—sixty years old, it is true, but possessed of +Broughton’s guard and chop. Moses is not blamed in +the Scripture for taking part with the oppressed, and killing an +Egyptian persecutor. We are not told how Moses killed the +Egyptian; but it is quite as creditable to Moses to suppose that +he killed the Egyptian by giving him a buffet under the left ear, +as by stabbing him with a knife. It is true that the +Saviour in the New Testament tells His disciples to turn the left +cheek to be smitten, after they had received a blow on the right; +but He was speaking to people divinely inspired, or whom He +intended divinely to inspire—people selected by God for a +particular purpose. He likewise tells these people to part +with various articles of raiment when asked for them, and to go +a-travelling without money, and take no thought of the +morrow. Are those exhortations carried out by very good +people in the present day? Do Quakers, when smitten on the +right cheek, turn the left to the smiter? When asked for +their coat, do they say, “Friend, take my shirt +also?” Has the Dean of Salisbury no purse? Does +the Archbishop of Canterbury go to an inn, run up a reckoning, +and then say to his landlady, “Mistress, I have no +coin?” Assuredly the Dean has a purse, and a +tolerably well-filled one; and, assuredly, the Archbishop, on +departing from an inn, not only settles his reckoning, but leaves +something handsome for the servants, and does not say that he is +forbidden by the gospel to pay for what he has eaten, or the +trouble he has given, as a certain Spanish cavalier said he was +forbidden by the statutes of chivalry. Now, to take the +part of yourself, or the part of the oppressed, with your fists, +is quite as lawful in the present day as it is to refuse your +coat and shirt also to any vagabond who may ask for them, and not +to refuse to pay for supper, bed, and breakfast, at the Feathers, +or any other inn, after you have had the benefit of all +three.</p> +<p>The conduct of Lavengro with respect to drink may, upon the +whole, serve as a model. He is no drunkard, nor is he fond +of intoxicating other people; yet when the horrors are upon him +he has no objection to go to a public-house and call for a pint +of ale, nor does he shrink from recommending ale to others when +they are faint and downcast. In one instance, it is true, +he does what cannot be exactly justified; he encourages the +Priest in the dingle, in more instances than one, in drinking +more hollands and water than is consistent with decorum. He +has a motive indeed in doing so; a desire to learn from the knave +in his cups the plans and hopes of the Propaganda of Rome. +Such conduct, however, was inconsistent with strict fair dealing +and openness; and the author advises all those whose consciences +never reproach them for a single unfair or covert act committed +by them, to abuse him heartily for administering hollands and +water to the Priest of Rome. In that instance the hero is +certainly wrong; yet in all other cases with regard to drink, he +is manifestly right. To tell people that they are never to +drink a glass of ale or wine themselves, or to give one to +others, is cant; and the writer has no toleration for cant of any +description. Some cants are not dangerous; but the writer +believes that a more dangerous cant than the temperance cant, or +as it is generally called, teetotalism, is scarcely to be +found. The writer is willing to believe that it originated +with well meaning, though weak people; but there can be no doubt +that it was quickly turned to account by people who were neither +well meaning nor weak. Let the reader note particularly the +purpose to which this cry has been turned in America; the land, +indeed, par excellence, of humbug and humbug cries. It is +there continually in the mouth of the most violent political +party, and is made an instrument of almost unexampled +persecution. The writer would say more on the temperance +cant, both in England and America, but want of space prevents +him. There is one point on which he cannot avoid making a +few brief remarks—that is, the inconsistent conduct of its +apostles in general. The teetotal apostle says, it is a +dreadful thing to be drunk. So it is, teetotaller; but if +so, why do you get drunk? I get drunk? Yes, unhappy +man, why do you get drunk on smoke and passion? Why are +your garments impregnated with the odour of the Indian +weed? Why is there a pipe or a cigar always in your +mouth? Why is your language more dreadful than that of a +Poissarde? Tobacco-smoke is more deleterious than ale, +teetotaller; bile more potent than brandy. You are fond of +telling your hearers what an awful thing it is to die +drunken. So it is, teetotaller. Then take good care +that you do not die with smoke and passion, drunken, and with +temperance language on your lips; that is, abuse and calumny +against all those who differ from you. One word of sense +you have been heard to say, which is, that spirits may be taken +as a medicine. Now you are in a fever of passion, +teetotaller; so, pray take this tumbler of brandy; take it on the +homoeopathic principle, that heat is to be expelled by +heat. You are in a temperance fury, so swallow the contents +of this tumbler, and it will, perhaps, cure you. You look +at the glass wistfully—you occasionally take a glass +medicinally—and it is probable you do. Take one +now. Consider what a dreadful thing it would be to die +passion drunk; to appear before your Maker with intemperate +language on your lips. That’s right! You +don’t seem to wince at the brandy. That’s +right!—well done! All down in two pulls. Now +you look like a reasonable being!</p> +<p>If the conduct of Lavengro with regard to drink is open to +little censure, assuredly the use which he makes of his fists is +entitled to none at all. Because he has a pair of tolerably +strong fists, and knows to a certain extent how to use them, is +he a swaggerer or oppressor? To what ill account does he +turn them? Who more quiet, gentle, and inoffensive than +he? He beats off a ruffian who attacks him in a dingle; has +a kind of friendly tuzzle with Mr. Petulengro, and behold the +extent of his fistic exploits.</p> +<p>Ay, but he associates with prize-fighters; and that very +fellow, Petulengro, is a prize-fighter, and has fought for a +stake in a ring. Well, and if he had not associated with +prize-fighters, how could he have used his fists? Oh, +anybody can use his fists in his own defence, without being +taught by prize-fighters. Can they? Then why does not +the Italian, or Spaniard, or Affghan use his fists when insulted +or outraged, instead of having recourse to the weapons which he +has recourse to? Nobody can use his fists without being +taught the use of them by those who have themselves been taught, +no more than any one can “whiffle” without being +taught by a master of the art. Now let any man of the +present day try to whiffle. Would not any one who wished to +whiffle have to go to a master of the art? Assuredly! but +where would he find one at the present day? The last of the +whifflers hanged himself about a fortnight ago on a bell-rope in +a church steeple of “the old town,” from pure grief +that there was no further demand for the exhibition of his art, +there being no demand for whiffling since the discontinuation of +Guildhall banquets. Whiffling is lost. The old chap +left his sword behind him; let any one take up the old +chap’s sword and try to whiffle. Now much the same +hand as he would make who should take up the whiffler’s +sword and try to whiffle, would he who should try to use his +fists who had never had the advantage of a master. Let no +one think that men use their fists naturally in their own +disputes—men have naturally recourse to any other thing to +defend themselves or to offend others; they fly to the stick, to +the stone, to the murderous and cowardly knife, or to abuse as +cowardly as the knife, and occasionally more murderous. Now +which is best when you hate a person, or have a pique against a +person, to clench your fist and say “Come on,” or to +have recourse to the stone, the knife,—or murderous +calumny? The use of the fist is almost lost in +England. Yet are the people better than they were when they +knew how to use their fists? The writer believes not. +A fisty combat is at present a great rarity, but the use of the +knife, the noose, and of poison, to say nothing of calumny, are +of more frequent occurrence in England than perhaps in any +country in Europe. Is polite taste better than when it +could bear the details of a fight? The writer believes +not. Two men cannot meet in a ring to settle a dispute in a +manly manner without some trumpery local newspaper letting loose +a volley of abuse against “the disgraceful +exhibition,” in which abuse it is sure to be sanctioned by +its dainty readers; whereas some murderous horror, the discovery +for example of the mangled remains of a woman in some obscure +den, is greedily seized hold of by the moral journal, and dressed +up for its readers, who luxuriate and gloat upon the ghastly +dish. Now, the writer of Lavengro has no sympathy with +those who would shrink from striking a blow, but would not shrink +from the use of poison or calumny; and his taste has little in +common with that which cannot tolerate the hardy details of a +prize-fight, but which luxuriates on descriptions of the murder +dens of modern England. But prize-fighters and pugilists +are blackguards, a reviewer has said; and blackguards they would +be provided they employed their skill and their prowess for +purposes of brutality and oppression; but prize-fighters and +pugilists are seldom friends to brutality and oppression; and +which is the blackguard, the writer would ask, he who uses his +fists to take his own part, or instructs others to use theirs for +the same purpose, or the being who from envy and malice, or at +the bidding of a malicious scoundrel, endeavours by calumny, +falsehood, and misrepresentation to impede the efforts of lonely +and unprotected genius?</p> +<p>One word more about the race, all but extinct, of the people +opprobriously called prize-fighters. Some of them have been +as noble, kindly men as the world ever produced. Can the +rolls of the English aristocracy exhibit names belonging to more +noble, more heroic men than those who were called respectively +Pearce, Cribb, and Spring? Did ever one of the English +aristocracy contract the seeds of fatal consumption by rushing up +the stairs of a burning edifice, even to the topmost garret, and +rescuing a woman from seemingly inevitable destruction? The +writer says no. A woman was rescued from the top of a +burning house; but the man who rescued her was no aristocrat; it +was Pearce, not Percy, who ran up the burning stairs. Did +ever one of those glittering ones save a fainting female from the +libidinous rage of six ruffians? The writer believes +not. A woman was rescued from the libidinous fury of six +monsters on --- Down; but the man who rescued her was no +aristocrat; it was Pearce not Paulet, who rescued the woman, and +thrashed my lord’s six gamekeepers—Pearce, whose +equal never was, and probably never will be, found in sturdy +combat. Are there any of the aristocracy of whom it can be +said that they never did a cowardly, cruel, or mean action, and +that they invariably took the part of the unfortunate and weak +against cruelty and oppression? As much can be said of +Cribb, of Spring, and the other; but where is the aristocrat of +whom as much can be said? Wellington? Wellington +indeed! a skilful general, and a good man of valour, it is true, +but with that cant word of “duty” continually on his +lips, did he rescue Ney from his butchers? Did he lend a +helping hand to Warner?</p> +<p>In conclusion, the writer would advise those of his +country-folks who read his book to have nothing to do with the +two kinds of canting nonsense described above, but in their +progress through life to enjoy as well as they can, but always +with moderation, the good things of this world, to put confidence +in God, to be as independent as possible, and to take their own +parts. If they are low-spirited, let them not make +themselves foolish by putting on sackcloth, drinking water, or +chewing ashes, but let them take wholesome exercise, and eat the +most generous food they can get, taking up and reading +occasionally, not the lives of Ignatius Loyola and Francis Spira, +but something more agreeable; for example, the life and +adventures of Mr. Duncan Campbell, the deaf and dumb gentleman; +the travels of Captain Falconer in America, and the journal of +John Randall, who went to Virginia and married an Indian wife; +not forgetting, amidst their eating and drinking, their walks +over heaths, and by the sea-side, and their agreeable literature, +to be charitable to the poor, to read the Psalms and to go to +church twice on a Sunday. In their dealings with people, to +be courteous to everybody, as Lavengro was, but always +independent like him; and if people meddle with them, to give +them as good as they bring, even as he and Isopel Berners were in +the habit of doing; and it will be as well for him to observe +that he by no means advises women to be too womanly, but bearing +the conduct of Isopel Berners in mind, to take their own parts, +and if anybody strikes them, to strike again.</p> +<p>Beating of women by the lords of the creation has become very +prevalent in England since pugilism has been +discountenanced. Now the writer strongly advises any woman +who is struck by a ruffian to strike him again; or if she cannot +clench her fists, and he advises all women in these singular +times to learn to clench their fists, to go at him with tooth and +nail, and not to be afraid of the result, for any fellow who is +dastard enough to strike a woman, would allow himself to be +beaten by a woman, were she to make at him in self-defence, even +if, instead of possessing the stately height and athletic +proportions of the aforesaid Isopel, she were as diminutive in +stature, and had a hand as delicate, and foot as small, as a +certain royal lady, who was some time ago assaulted by a fellow +upwards of six feet high, whom the writer has no doubt she could +have beaten had she thought proper to go at him. Such is +the deliberate advice of the author to his countrymen and +women—advice in which he believes there is nothing +unscriptural or repugnant to common sense.</p> +<p>The writer is perfectly well aware that, by the plain language +which he has used in speaking of the various kinds of nonsense +prevalent in England, he shall make himself a multitude of +enemies; but he is not going to conceal the truth or to tamper +with nonsense, from the fear of provoking hostility. He has +a duty to perform and he will perform it resolutely; he is the +person who carried the Bible to Spain; and as resolutely as he +spoke in Spain against the superstitions of Spain, will he speak +in England against the nonsense of his own native land. He +is not one of those who, before they sit down to write a book, +say to themselves, what cry shall we take up? what principles +shall we advocate? what principles shall we abuse? before we put +pen to paper we must find out what cry is the loudest, what +principle has the most advocates, otherwise, after having written +our book, we may find ourselves on the weaker side.</p> +<p>A sailor of the “Bounty,” waked from his sleep by +the noise of the mutiny, lay still in his hammock for some time, +quite undecided whether to take part with the captain or to join +the mutineers. “I must mind what I do,” said he +to himself, “lest, in the end, I find myself on the weaker +side;” finally, on hearing that the mutineers were +successful, he went on deck, and seeing Bligh pinioned to the +mast, he put his fist to his nose, and otherwise insulted +him. Now, there are many writers of the present day whose +conduct is very similar to that of the sailor. They lie +listening in their corners till they have ascertained which +principle has most advocates; then, presently, they make their +appearance on the deck of the world with their book; if truth has +been victorious, then has truth the hurrah! but if truth is +pinioned against the mast, then is their fist thrust against the +nose of truth, and their gibe and their insult spirted in her +face. The strongest party had the sailor, and the strongest +party has almost invariably the writer of the present day.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER IX—Pseudo-Critics.</h3> +<p>A certain set of individuals calling themselves critics have +attacked Lavengro with much virulence and malice. If what +they call criticism had been founded on truth, the author would +have had nothing to say. The book contains plenty of +blemishes, some of them, by the bye, wilful ones, as the writer +will presently show; not one of these, however, has been detected +and pointed out; but the best passages in the book, indeed +whatever was calculated to make the book valuable, have been +assailed with abuse and misrepresentation. The duty of the +true critic is to play the part of a leech, and not of a +viper. Upon true and upon malignant criticism there is an +excellent fable by the Spaniard Iriarte. The viper says to +the leech, “Why do people invite your bite, and flee from +mine?” “Because,” says the leech, +“people receive health from my bite, and poison from +yours.” “There is as much difference,” +says the clever Spaniard, “between true and malignant +criticism, as between poison and medicine.” Certainly +a great many meritorious writers have allowed themselves to be +poisoned by malignant criticism; the writer, however, is not one +of those who allow themselves to be poisoned by pseudo-critics; +no! no! he will rather hold them up by their tails, and show the +creatures wriggling, blood and foam streaming from their broken +jaws. First of all, however, he will notice one of their +objections. “The book isn’t true,” say +they. Now one of the principal reasons with those that have +attacked Lavengro for their abuse of it is, that it is +particularly true in one instance, namely, that it exposes their +own nonsense, their love of humbug, their slavishness, their +dressings, their goings out, their scraping and bowing to great +people; it is the showing up of “gentility-nonsense” +in Lavengro that has been one principal reason for raising the +above cry; for in Lavengro is denounced the besetting folly of +the English people, a folly which those who call themselves +guardians of the public taste are far from being above. +“We can’t abide anything that isn’t +true!” they exclaim. Can’t they? Then why +are they so enraptured with any fiction that is adapted to +purposes of humbug, which tends to make them satisfied with their +own proceedings, with their own nonsense, which does not tell +them to reform, to become more alive to their own failings, and +less sensitive about the tyrannical goings on of the masters, and +the degraded condition, the sufferings, and the trials of the +serfs in the star Jupiter? Had Lavengro, instead of being +the work of an independent mind, been written in order to further +any of the thousand and one cants, and species of nonsense +prevalent in England, the author would have heard much less about +its not being true, both from public detractors and private +censurers.</p> +<p>“But Lavengro pretends to be an autobiography,” +say the critics; and here the writer begs leave to observe, that +it would be well for people who profess to have a regard for +truth, not to exhibit in every assertion which they make a most +profligate disregard of it; this assertion of theirs is a +falsehood, and they know it to be a falsehood. In the +preface Lavengro is stated to be a dream; and the writer takes +this opportunity of stating that he never said it was an +autobiography; never authorized any person to say that it was +one; and that he has in innumerable instances declared in public +and private, both before and after the work was published, that +it was not what is generally termed an autobiography: but a set +of people who pretend to write criticisms on books, hating the +author for various reasons,—amongst others, because, having +the proper pride of a gentleman and a scholar, he did not, in the +year ’43, choose to permit himself to be exhibited and made +a zany of in London, and especially because he will neither +associate with, nor curry favour with, them who are neither +gentlemen nor scholars,—attack his book with abuse and +calumny. He is, perhaps, condescending too much when he +takes any notice of such people; as, however, the English public +is wonderfully led by cries and shouts, and generally ready to +take part against any person who is either unwilling or unable to +defend himself, he deems it advisable not to be altogether quiet +with those who assail him. The best way to deal with vipers +is to tear out their teeth; and the best way to deal with +pseudo-critics is to deprive them of their poison-bag, which is +easily done by exposing their ignorance. The writer knew +perfectly well the description of people with whom he would have +to do, he therefore very quietly prepared a stratagem, by means +of which he could at any time exhibit them, powerless and +helpless, in his hand. Critics, when they review books, +ought to have a competent knowledge of the subjects which those +books discuss.</p> +<p>Lavengro is a philological book, a poem if you choose to call +it so. Now, what a fine triumph it would have been for +those who wished to vilify the book and its author, provided they +could have detected the latter tripping in his +philology—they might have instantly said that he was an +ignorant pretender to philology—they laughed at the idea of +his taking up a viper by its tail, a trick which hundreds of +country urchins do every September, but they were silent about +the really wonderful part of the book, the philological +matter—they thought philology was his stronghold, and that +it would be useless to attack him there; they of course would +give him no credit as a philologist, for anything like fair +treatment towards him was not to be expected at their hands, but +they were afraid to attack his philology—yet that was the +point, and the only point in which they might have attacked him +successfully; he was vulnerable there. How was this? +Why, in order to have an opportunity of holding up pseudo-critics +by the tails, he wilfully spelt various foreign words +wrong—Welsh words, and even Italian words—did they +detect these misspellings? not one of them, even as he knew they +would not, and he now taunts them with ignorance; and the power +of taunting them with ignorance is the punishment which he +designed for them—a power which they might but for their +ignorance have used against him. The writer besides knowing +something of Italian and Welsh, knows a little of Armenian +language and literature; but who knowing anything of the Armenian +language, unless he had an end in view, would say, that the word +sea in Armenian is anything like the word tide in English? +The word for sea in Armenian is dzow, a word connected with the +Tebetian word for water, and the Chinese shuy, and the Turkish +su, signifying the same thing; but where is the resemblance +between dzow and tide? Again, the word for bread in ancient +Armenian is hats; yet the Armenian on London Bridge is made to +say zhats, which is not the nominative of the Armenian noun for +bread, but the accusative: now, critics, ravening against a man +because he is a gentleman and a scholar, and has not only the +power but also the courage to write original works, why did you +not discover that weak point? Why, because you were +ignorant, so here ye are held up! Moreover, who with a name +commencing with Z, ever wrote fables in Armenian? There are +two writers of fables in Armenian—Varthan and Koscht, and +illustrious writers they are, one in the simple, and the other in +the ornate style of Armenian composition, but neither of their +names begins with a Z. Oh, what a precious opportunity ye +lost, ye ravening crew, of convicting the poor, half-starved, +friendless boy of the book, of ignorance or misrepresentation, by +asking who with a name beginning with Z ever wrote fables in +Armenian; but ye couldn’t help yourselves, ye are +duncie. We duncie! Ay, duncie. So here ye are +held up by the tails, blood and foam streaming from your +jaws.</p> +<p>The writer wishes to ask here, what do you think of all this, +Messieurs les Critiques? Were ye ever served so +before? But don’t you richly deserve it? +Haven’t you been for years past bullying and insulting +everybody whom you deemed weak, and currying favour with +everybody whom you thought strong? “We approve of +this. We disapprove of that. Oh, this will never +do. These are fine lines!” The lines perhaps +some horrid sycophantic rubbish addressed to Wellington, or Lord +So-and-so. To have your ignorance thus exposed, to be shown +up in this manner, and by whom? A gypsy! Ay, a gypsy +was the very right person to do it. But is it not galling, +after all?</p> +<p>“Ah, but <i>we</i> don’t understand Armenian, it +cannot be expected that <i>we</i> should understand Armenian, or +Welsh, or—Hey, what’s this? The mighty +<i>we</i> not understand Armenian or Welsh, or—Then why +does the mighty <i>we</i> pretend to review a book like +Lavengro? From the arrogance with which it continually +delivers itself, one would think that the mighty <i>we</i> is +omniscient; that it understands every language; is versed in +every literature; yet the mighty <i>we</i> does not even know the +word for bread in Armenian. It knows bread well enough by +name in England, and frequently bread in England only by its +name, but the truth is, that the mighty <i>we</i>, with all its +pretension, is in general a very sorry creature, who, instead of +saying nous disons, should rather say nous dis: Porny in his +“Guerre des Dieux,” very profanely makes the three in +one say, Je faisons; now, Lavengro, who is anything but profane, +would suggest that critics, especially magazine and Sunday +newspaper critics, should commence with nous dis, as the first +word would be significant of the conceit and assumption of the +critic, and the second of the extent of the critic’s +information. The <i>we</i> says its say, but when fawning +sycophancy or vulgar abuse are taken from that say, what +remains? Why a blank, a void like Ginnungagap.</p> +<p>As the writer, of his own accord, has exposed some of the +blemishes of his book—a task, which a competent critic +ought to have done—he will now point out two or three of +its merits, which any critic, not altogether blinded with +ignorance might have done, or not replete with gall and envy +would have been glad to do. The book has the merit of +communicating a fact connected with physiology, which in all the +pages of the multitude of books was never previously +mentioned—the mysterious practice of touching objects to +baffle the evil chance. The miserable detractor will, of +course, instantly begin to rave about such a habit being common: +well and good; but was it ever before described in print, or all +connected with it dissected? He may then vociferate +something about Johnson having touched:—the writer cares +not whether Johnson, who, by the bye, during the last twenty or +thirty years, owing to people having become ultra Tory mad from +reading Scott’s novels and the “Quarterly +Review,” has been a mighty favourite, especially with some +who were in the habit of calling him a half crazy old +fool—touched, or whether he did or not; but he asks where +did Johnson ever describe the feelings which induced him to +perform the magic touch, even supposing that he did perform +it? Again, the history gives an account of a certain book +called the “Sleeping Bard,” the most remarkable prose +work of the most difficult language but one, of modern +Europe,—a book, for a notice of which, he believes, one +might turn over in vain the pages of any review printed in +England, or, indeed, elsewhere.—So here are two facts, one +literary and the other physiological, for which any candid critic +was bound to thank the author, even as in Romany Rye there is a +fact connected with Iro Norman Myth, for the disclosing of which, +any person who pretends to have a regard for literature is bound +to thank him, namely, that the mysterious Finn or Fingal of +“Ossian’s Poems” is one and the same person as +the Sigurd Fofnisbane of the Edda and the Wilkina, and the +Siegfried Horn of the Lay of the Niebelungs.</p> +<p>The writer might here conclude, and, he believes, most +triumphantly; as, however, he is in the cue for writing, which he +seldom is, he will for his own gratification, and for the sake of +others, dropping metaphors about vipers and serpents, show up in +particular two or three sets or cliques of people, who, he is +happy to say, have been particularly virulent against him and his +work, for nothing indeed could have given him greater +mortification than their praise.</p> +<p>In the first place, he wishes to dispose of certain +individuals who call themselves men of wit and +fashion—about town—who he is told have abused his +book “vaustly”—their own word. These +people paint their cheeks, wear white kid gloves, and dabble in +literature, or what they conceive to be literature. For +abuse from such people, the writer was prepared. Does any +one imagine that the writer was not well aware, before he +published his book, that, whenever he gave it to the world, he +should be attacked by every literary coxcomb in England who had +influence enough to procure the insertion of a scurrilous article +in a magazine or newspaper! He has been in Spain, and has +seen how invariably the mule attacks the horse; now why does the +mule attack the horse? Why, because the latter carries +about with him that which the envious hermaphrodite does not +possess.</p> +<p>They consider, forsooth, that his book is low—but he is +not going to waste words about them—one or two of whom, he +is told, have written very duncie books about Spain, and are +highly enraged with him, because certain books which he wrote +about Spain were not considered duncie. No, he is not going +to waste words upon them, for verily he dislikes their company, +and so he’ll pass them by, and proceed to others.</p> +<p>The Scotch Charlie o’er the water people have been very +loud in the abuse of Lavengro—this again might be expected; +the sarcasms of the Priest about the Charlie o’er the water +nonsense of course stung them. Oh! it is one of the claims +which Lavengro has to respect, that it is the first, if not the +only work, in which that nonsense is, to a certain extent, +exposed. Two or three of their remarks on passages of +Lavengro, he will reproduce and laugh at. Of course your +Charlie o’er the water people are genteel exceedingly, and +cannot abide anything low. Gypsyism they think is +particularly low, and the use of gypsy words in literature +beneath its gentility; so they object to gypsy words being used +in Lavengro where gypsies are introduced +speaking—“What is Romany forsooth?” say +they. Very good! And what is Scotch? has not the +public been nauseated with Scotch for the last thirty +years? “Ay, but Scotch is not”—the writer +believes he knows much better than the Scotch what Scotch is and +what it is not; he has told them before what it is, a very sorry +jargon. He will now tell them what it is not—a sister +or an immediate daughter of the Sanscrit, which Romany is. +“Ay, but the Scotch are”—foxes, foxes, nothing +else than foxes, even like the gypsies—the difference +between the gypsy and Scotch fox being that the first is wild, +with a mighty brush, the other a sneak with a gilt collar and +without a tail.</p> +<p>A Charlie o’er the water person attempts to be witty, +because the writer has said that perhaps a certain old Edinburgh +High-School porter, of the name of Boee, was perhaps of the same +blood as a certain Bui, a Northern Kemp who distinguished himself +at the battle of Horinger Bay. A pretty matter, forsooth, +to excite the ridicule of a Scotchman! Why, is there a +beggar or trumpery fellow in Scotland, who does not pretend to be +somebody, or related to somebody? Is not every Scotchman +descended from some king, kemp, or cow-stealer of old, by his own +account at least? Why, the writer would even go so far as +to bet a trifle that the poor creature, who ridicules +Boee’s supposed ancestry, has one of his own, at least as +grand and as apocryphal as old Boee’s of the High +School.</p> +<p>The same Charlie o’er the water person is mightily +indignant that Lavengro should have spoken disrespectfully of +William Wallace; Lavengro, when he speaks of that personage, +being a child of about ten years old, and repeating merely what +he had heard. All the Scotch, by the bye, for a great many +years past, have been great admirers of William Wallace, +particularly the Charlie o’er the water people, who in +their nonsense-verses about Charlie generally contrive to bring +in the name of William, Willie, or Wullie Wallace. The +writer begs leave to say that he by no means wishes to bear hard +against William Wallace, but he cannot help asking why, if +William, Willie, or Wullie Wallace was such a particularly nice +person, did his brother Scots betray him to a certain renowned +southern warrior, called Edward Longshanks, who caused him to be +hanged and cut into four in London, and his quarters to be placed +over the gates of certain towns? They got gold, it is true, +and titles, very nice things, no doubt; but, surely, the life of +a patriot is better than all the gold and titles in the +world—at least Lavengro thinks so—but Lavengro has +lived more with gypsies than Scotchmen, and gypsies do not betray +their brothers. It would be some time before a gypsy would +hand over his brother to the harum-beck, even supposing you would +not only make him a king, but a justice of the peace, and not +only give him the world, but the best farm on the Holkham estate; +but gypsies are wild foxes, and there is certainly a wonderful +difference between the way of thinking of the wild fox who +retains his brush, and that of the scurvy kennel creature who has +lost his tail.</p> +<p>Ah! but thousands of Scotch, and particularly the Charlie +o’er the water people, will say, “We didn’t +sell Willie Wallace, it was our forbears who sold Willie +Wallace—If Edward Longshanks had asked us to sell Wullie +Wallace, we would soon have shown him that—” +Lord better ye, ye poor trumpery set of creatures, ye would not +have acted a bit better than your forefathers; remember how ye +have ever treated the few amongst ye who, though born in the +kennel, have shown something of the spirit of the wood. +Many of ye are still alive who delivered over men, quite as +honest and patriotic as William Wallace, into the hands of an +English minister, to be chained and transported for merely +venturing to speak and write in the cause of humanity, at the +time when Europe was beginning to fling off the chains imposed by +kings and priests. And it is not so very long since Burns, +to whom ye are now building up obelisks rather higher than he +deserves, was permitted by his countrymen to die in poverty and +misery, because he would not join with them in songs of adulation +to kings and the trumpery great. So say not that ye would +have acted with respect to William Wallace one whit better than +your fathers—and you in particular, ye children of Charlie, +whom do ye write nonsense-verses about? A family of dastard +despots, who did their best, during a century and more, to tread +out the few sparks of independent feeling still glowing in +Scotland—but enough has been said about ye.</p> +<p>Amongst those who have been prodigal in abuse and defamation +of Lavengro, have been your modern Radicals, and particularly a +set of people who filled the country with noise against the King +and Queen, Wellington, and the Tories, in ’32. About +these people the writer will presently have occasion to say a +good deal, and also of real Radicals. As, however, it may +be supposed that he is one of those who delight to play the +sycophant to kings and queens, to curry favour with Tories, and +to bepraise Wellington, he begs leave to state that such is not +the case.</p> +<p>About kings and queens he has nothing to say; about Tories, +simply that he believes them to be a bad set; about Wellington, +however, it will be necessary for him to say a good deal, of +mixed import, as he will subsequently frequently have occasion to +mention him in connection with what he has to say about +pseudo-Radicals.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER X—Pseudo-Radicals.</h3> +<p>About Wellington, then, he says, that he believes him at the +present day to be infinitely overrated. But there certainly +was a time when he was shamefully underrated. Now what time +was that? Why the time of pseudo-Radicalism, par +excellence, from ’20 to ’32. Oh, the abuse that +was heaped on Wellington by those who traded in Radical +cant—your newspaper editors and review writers! and how he +was sneered at then by your Whigs, and how faintly supported he +was by your Tories, who were half ashamed of him; for your +Tories, though capital fellows as followers, when you want nobody +to back you, are the faintest creatures in the world when you cry +in your agony, “Come and help me!” Oh, +assuredly Wellington was infamously used at that time, especially +by your traders in Radicalism, who howled at and hooted him; said +he had every vice—was no general—was beaten at +Waterloo—was a poltroon—moreover a poor illiterate +creature, who could scarcely read or write; nay, a principal +Radical paper said boldly he could not read, and devised an +ingenious plan for teaching Wellington how to read. Now +this was too bad; and the writer, being a lover of justice, +frequently spoke up for Wellington, saying, that as for vice, he +was not worse than his neighbours; that he was brave; that he won +the fight at Waterloo, from a half-dead man, it is true, but that +he did win it. Also, that he believed he had read +“Rules for the Manual and Platoon Exercises” to some +purpose; moreover, that he was sure he could write, for that he +the writer had once written to Wellington, and had received an +answer from him; nay, the writer once went so far as to strike a +blow for Wellington; for the last time he used his fists was upon +a Radical sub-editor, who was mobbing Wellington in the street, +from behind a rank of grimy fellows; but though the writer spoke +up for Wellington to a certain extent, when he was shamefully +underrated, and once struck a blow for him when he was about +being hustled, he is not going to join in the loathsome +sycophantic nonsense which it has been the fashion to use with +respect to Wellington these last twenty years. Now what +have those years been to England! Why the years of +ultra-gentility, everybody in England having gone gentility mad +during the last twenty years, and no people more so than your +pseudo-Radicals. Wellington was turned out, and your Whigs +and Radicals got in, and then commenced the period of +ultra-gentility in England. The Whigs and Radicals only +hated Wellington as long as the patronage of the country was in +his hands, none of which they were tolerably sure he would bestow +on them; but no sooner did they get it into their own, than they +forthwith became admirers of Wellington. And why? +Because he was a duke, petted at Windsor and by foreign princes, +and a very genteel personage. Formerly many of your Whigs +and Radicals had scarcely a decent coat on their backs; but now +the plunder of the country was at their disposal, and they had as +good a chance of being genteel as any people. So they were +willing to worship Wellington because he was very genteel, and +could not keep the plunder of the country out of their +hands. And Wellington has been worshipped, and prettily so, +during the last fifteen or twenty years. He is now a noble +fine-hearted creature; the greatest general the world ever +produced; the bravest of men; and—and—mercy upon us! +the greatest of military writers! Now the present writer +will not join in such sycophancy. As he was not afraid to +take the part of Wellington when he was scurvily used by all +parties, and when it was dangerous to take his part, so he is not +afraid to speak the naked truth about Wellington in these days, +when it is dangerous to say anything about him but what is +sycophantically laudatory. He said in ’32, that as to +vice, Wellington was not worse than his neighbours; but he is not +going to say, in ’54, that Wellington was a noble-hearted +fellow; for he believes that a more cold-hearted individual never +existed. His conduct to Warner, the poor Vaudois, and +Marshal Ney, showed that. He said, in ’32, that he +was a good general and a brave man; but he is not going, in +’54, to say that he was the best general, or the bravest +man the world ever saw. England has produced a better +general—France two or three—both countries many +braver men. The son of the Norfolk clergyman was a brave +man; Marshal Ney was a braver man. Oh, that battle of +Copenhagen! Oh, that covering the retreat of the Grand +Army! And though he said in ’32 that he could write, +he is not going to say in ’54 that he is the best of all +military writers. On the contrary, he does not hesitate to +say that any Commentary of Julius Cæsar, or any chapter in +Justinus, more especially the one about the Parthians, is worth +the ten volumes of Wellington’s Despatches; though he has +no doubt that, by saying so, he shall especially rouse the +indignation of a certain newspaper, at present one of the most +genteel journals imaginable—with a slight tendency to +Liberalism, it is true, but perfectly genteel—which is +nevertheless the very one which, in ’32, swore bodily that +Wellington could neither read nor write, and devised an ingenious +plan for teaching him how to read.</p> +<p>Now, after the above statement, no one will venture to say, if +the writer should be disposed to bear hard upon Radicals, that he +would be influenced by a desire to pay court to princes, or to +curry favour with Tories, or from being a blind admirer of the +Duke of Wellington; but the writer is not going to declaim +against Radicals, that is, real Republicans, or their principles; +upon the whole, he is something of an admirer of both. The +writer has always had as much admiration for everything that is +real and honest as he has had contempt for the opposite. +Now real Republicanism is certainly a very fine thing, a much +finer thing than Toryism, a system of common robbery, which is +nevertheless far better than Whiggism <a name="citation7"></a><a +href="#footnote7" class="citation">[7]</a>—a compound of +petty larceny, popular instruction, and receiving of stolen +goods. Yes, real Republicanism is certainly a very fine +thing, and your real Radicals and Republicans are certainly very +fine fellows, or rather were fine fellows, for the Lord only +knows where to find them at the present day—the writer does +not. If he did, he would at any time go five miles to +invite one of them to dinner, even supposing that he had to go to +a workhouse in order to find the person he wished to +invite. Amongst the real Radicals of England, those who +flourished from the year ’16 to ’20, there were +certainly extraordinary characters, men partially insane, +perhaps, but honest and brave—they did not make a market of +the principles which they professed, and never intended to do so; +they believed in them, and were willing to risk their lives in +endeavouring to carry them out. The writer wishes to speak +in particular of two of these men, both of whom perished on the +scaffold—their names were Thistlewood and Ings. +Thistlewood, the best known of them, was a brave soldier, and had +served with distinction as an officer in the French service; he +was one of the excellent swordsmen of Europe; had fought several +duels in France, where it is no child’s play to fight a +duel; but had never unsheathed his sword for single combat, but +in defence of the feeble and insulted—he was kind and +open-hearted, but of too great simplicity; he had once ten +thousand pounds left him, all of which he lent to a friend, who +disappeared and never returned a penny. Ings was an +uneducated man, of very low stature, but amazing strength and +resolution; he was a kind husband and father, and though a humble +butcher, the name he bore was one of the royal names of the +heathen Anglo-Saxons. These two men, along with five +others, were executed, and their heads hacked off, for levying +war against George the Fourth; the whole seven dying in a manner +which extorted cheers from the populace; the most of then +uttering philosophical or patriotic sayings. Thistlewood, +who was, perhaps, the most calm and collected of all, just before +he was turned off, said, “We are now going to discover the +great secret.” Ings, the moment before he was choked, +was singing “Scots wha ha’ wi’ Wallace +bled.” Now there was no humbug about those men, nor +about many more of the same time and of the same +principles. They might be deluded about Republicanism, as +Algernon Sidney was, and as Brutus was, but they were as honest +and brave as either Brutus or Sidney; and as willing to die for +their principles. But the Radicals who succeeded them were +beings of a very different description; they jobbed and traded in +Republicanism, and either parted with it, or at the present day +are eager to part with it for a consideration. In order to +get the Whigs into power, and themselves places, they brought the +country by their inflammatory language to the verge of a +revolution, and were the cause that many perished on the +scaffold; by their incendiary harangues and newspaper articles +they caused the Bristol conflagration, for which six poor +creatures were executed; they encouraged the mob to pillage, pull +down and burn, and then rushing into garrets looked on. +Thistlewood tells the mob the Tower is a second Bastile; let it +be pulled down. A mob tries to pull down the Tower; but +Thistlewood is at the head of that mob; he is not peeping from a +garret on Tower Hill like Gulliver at Lisbon. Thistlewood +and Ings say to twenty ragged individuals, Liverpool and +Castlereagh are two satellites of despotism; it would be highly +desirable to put them out of the way. And a certain number +of ragged individuals are surprised in a stable in Cato Street, +making preparations to put Castlereagh and Liverpool out of the +way, and are fired upon with muskets by Grenadiers, and are +hacked at with cutlasses by Bow Street runners; but the twain who +encouraged those ragged individuals to meet in Cato Street are +not far off, they are not on the other side of the river, in the +Borough, for example, in some garret or obscure cellar. The +very first to confront the Guards and runners are Thistlewood and +Ings; Thistlewood whips his long thin rapier through +Smithers’ lungs, and Ings makes a dash at Fitzclarence with +his butcher’s knife. Oh, there was something in those +fellows! honesty and courage—but can as much be said for +the inciters of the troubles of ’32? No; they egged +on poor ignorant mechanics and rustics, and got them hanged for +pulling down and burning, whilst the highest pitch to which their +own daring ever mounted was to mob Wellington as he passed in the +streets.</p> +<p>Now, these people were humbugs, which Thistlewood and Ings +were not. They raved and foamed against kings, queens, +Wellington, the aristocracy, and what not, till they had got the +Whigs into power, with whom they were in secret alliance, and +with whom they afterwards openly joined in a system of robbery +and corruption, more flagitious than the old Tory one, because +there was more cant about it; for themselves they got +consulships, commissionerships, and in some instances +governments; for their sons clerkships in public offices; and +there you may see those sons with the never-failing badge of the +low scoundrel-puppy, the gilt chain at the waistcoat pocket; and +there you may hear and see them using the languishing tones, and +employing the airs and graces which wenches use and employ, who, +without being in the family way, wish to make their keepers +believe that they are in the family way. Assuredly great is +the cleverness of your Radicals of ’32, in providing for +themselves and their families. Yet, clever as they are, +there is one thing they cannot do—they get governments for +themselves, commissionerships for their brothers, clerkships for +their sons, but there is one thing beyond their craft—they +cannot get husbands for their daughters, who, too ugly for +marriage, and with their heads filled with the nonsense they have +imbibed from gentility-novels, go over from Socinus to the Pope, +becoming sisters in fusty convents, or having heard a few sermons +in Mr. Platitude’s “chapelle,” seek for +admission at the establishment of mother S---, who, after +employing them for a time in various menial offices, and making +them pluck off their eyebrows hair by hair, generally dismisses +them on the plea of sluttishness; whereupon they return to their +papas to eat the bread of the country, with the comfortable +prospect of eating it still in the shape of a pension after their +sires are dead. Papa (ex uno disce omnes) living as quietly +as he can; not exactly enviably, it is true, being now and then +seen to cast an uneasy and furtive glance behind, even as an +animal is wont, who has lost by some mischance a very slight +appendage; as quietly however as he can, and as dignifiedly, a +great admirer of every genteel thing and genteel personage, the +Duke in particular, whose “Despatches,” bound in red +morocco, you will find on his table. A disliker of coarse +expressions, and extremes of every kind, with a perfect horror +for revolutions and attempts to revolutionize, exclaiming now and +then, as a shriek escapes from whipped and bleeding Hungary, a +groan from gasping Poland, and a half-stifled curse from +down-trodden but scowling Italy, “Confound the +revolutionary canaille, why can’t it be quiet!” in a +word, putting one in mind of the parvenu in the “Walpurgis +Nacht.” The writer is no admirer of Göthe, but +the idea of that parvenu was certainly a good one. Yes, +putting one in mind of the individual who says—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Wir waren wahrlich auch nicht dumm,<br /> + Und thaten oft was wir nicht sollten;<br /> +Doch jetzo kehrt sich alles um und um,<br /> + Und eben da wir’s fest erhalten +wollten.”</p> +<p>We were no fools, as every one discern’d,<br /> + And stopp’d at nought our projects in +fulfilling;<br /> +But now the world seems topsy-turvy turn’d,<br /> + To keep it quiet just when we were willing.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Now, this class of individuals entertain a mortal hatred for +Lavengro and its writer, and never lose an opportunity of +vituperating both. It is true that such hatred is by no +means surprising. There is certainly a great deal of +difference between Lavengro and their own sons; the one thinking +of independence and philology, whilst he is clinking away at +kettles, and hammering horse-shoes in dingles; the others stuck +up at public offices with gilt chains at their waistcoat-pockets, +and giving themselves the airs and graces of females of a certain +description. And there certainly is a great deal of +difference between the author of Lavengro and themselves—he +retaining his principles and his brush; they with scarlet +breeches on, it is true, but without their Republicanism, and +their tails. Oh, the writer can well afford to be +vituperated by your pseudo-Radicals of ’32!</p> +<p>Some time ago the writer was set upon by an old Radical and +his wife; but the matter is too rich not to require a chapter to +itself.</p> +<h3>CHAPTER XI—The Old Radical.</h3> +<blockquote><p>“This very dirty man, with his very dirty +face,<br /> +Would do any dirty act, which would get him a place.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Some time ago the writer was set upon by an old Radical and +his wife; but before he relates the manner in which they set upon +him, it will be as well to enter upon a few particulars tending +to elucidate their reasons for so doing.</p> +<p>The writer had just entered into his eighteenth year, when he +met at the table of a certain Anglo-Germanist an individual, +apparently somewhat under thirty, of middle stature, a thin and +weaselly figure, a sallow complexion, a certain obliquity of +vision, and a large pair of spectacles. This person, who +had lately come from abroad, and had published a volume of +translations, had attracted some slight notice in the literary +world, and was looked upon as a kind of lion in a small +provincial capital. After dinner he argued a great deal, +spoke vehemently against the church, and uttered the most +desperate Radicalism that was perhaps ever heard, saying, he +hoped that in a short time there would not be a king or queen in +Europe, and inveighing bitterly against the English aristocracy, +and against the Duke of Wellington in particular, whom he said, +if he himself was ever president of an English republic—an +event which he seemed to think by no means improbable—he +would hang for certain infamous acts of profligacy and bloodshed +which he had perpetrated in Spain. Being informed that the +writer was something of a philologist, to which character the +individual in question laid great pretensions, he came and sat +down by him, and talked about languages and literature. The +writer, who was only a boy, was a little frightened at first, +but, not wishing to appear a child of absolute ignorance, he +summoned what little learning he had, and began to blunder out +something about the Celtic languages and literature, and asked +the Lion who he conceived Finn-Ma-Coul to be? and whether he did +not consider the “Ode to the Fox,” by Red Rhys of +Eryry, to be a masterpiece of pleasantry? Receiving no +answer to these questions from the Lion, who, singular enough, +would frequently, when the writer put a question to him, look +across the table, and flatly contradict some one who was talking +to some other person, the writer dropped the Celtic languages and +literature, and asked him whether he did not think it a funny +thing that Temugin, generally called Genghis Khan, should have +married the daughter of Prester John? <a +name="citation8"></a><a href="#footnote8" +class="citation">[8]</a> The Lion, after giving a side-glance at +the writer through his left spectacle glass, seemed about to +reply, but was unfortunately prevented, being seized with an +irresistible impulse to contradict a respectable doctor of +medicine, who was engaged in conversation with the master of the +house at the upper and farther end of the table, the writer being +a poor ignorant lad, sitting of course at the bottom. The +doctor, who had served in the Peninsula, having observed that +Ferdinand the Seventh was not quite so bad as had been +represented, the Lion vociferated that he was ten times worse, +and that he hoped to see him and the Duke of Wellington hanged +together. The doctor, who, being a Welshman, was somewhat +of a warm temper, growing rather red, said that at any rate he +had been informed that Ferdinand the Seventh knew sometimes how +to behave himself like a gentleman—this brought on a long +dispute, which terminated rather abruptly. The Lion having +observed that the doctor must not talk about Spanish matters with +one who had visited every part of Spain, the doctor bowed, and +said he was right, for that he believed no people in general +possessed such accurate information about countries as those who +had travelled them as bagmen. On the Lion asking the doctor +what he meant, the Welshman, whose under jaw began to move +violently, replied, that he meant what he said. Here the +matter ended, for the Lion, turning from him, looked at the +writer. The writer, imagining that his own conversation +hitherto had been too trivial and common-place for the Lion to +consider worth his while to take much notice of it, determined to +assume a little higher ground, and after repeating a few verses +of the Koran, and gabbling a little Arabic, asked the Lion what +he considered to be the difference between the Hegira and the +Christian era, adding, that he thought the general computation +was in error by about one year; and being a particularly modest +person, chiefly, he believes, owing to his having been at school +in Ireland, absolutely blushed at finding that the Lion returned +not a word in answer. “What a wonderful individual I +am seated by,” thought he, “to whom Arabic seems a +vulgar speech, and a question about the Hegira not worthy of an +answer!” not reflecting that as lions come from the Sahara, +they have quite enough of Arabic at home, and that the question +about the Hegira was rather mal à propos to one used to +prey on the flesh of hadjis. “Now I only wish he +would vouchsafe me a little of his learning,” thought the +boy to himself, and in this wish he was at last gratified; for +the Lion, after asking him whether he was acquainted at all with +the Sclavonian languages, and being informed that he was not, +absolutely dumb-foundered him by a display of Sclavonian +erudition.</p> +<p>Years rolled by—the writer was a good deal about, +sometimes in London, sometimes in the country, sometimes abroad; +in London he occasionally met the man of the spectacles, who was +always very civil to him, and, indeed, cultivated his +acquaintance. The writer thought it rather odd that, after +he himself had become acquainted with the Sclavonian languages +and literature, the man of the spectacles talked little or +nothing about them. In a little time, however, the matter +ceased to cause him the slightest surprise, for he had discovered +a key to the mystery. In the mean time the man of +spectacles was busy enough; he speculated in commerce, failed, +and paid his creditors twenty pennies in the pound; published +translations, of which the public at length became heartily +tired; having, indeed, got an inkling of the manner in which +those translations were got up. He managed, however, to +ride out many a storm, having one trusty +sheet-anchor—Radicalism. This he turned to the best +advantage—writing pamphlets and articles in reviews, all in +the Radical interest, and for which he was paid out of the +Radical fund; which articles and pamphlets, when Toryism seemed +to reel on its last legs, exhibited a slight tendency to +Whiggism. Nevertheless, his abhorrence of desertion of +principle was so great in the time of the Duke of +Wellington’s administration, that when S--- left the Whigs +and went over, he told the writer, who was about that time +engaged with him in a literary undertaking, that the said S--- +was a fellow with a character so infamous, that any honest man +would rather that you spit in his face than insult his ears with +the mention of the name of S---.</p> +<p>The literary project having come to nothing,—in which, +by the bye, the writer was to have all the labour, and his friend +all the credit, provided any credit should accrue from +it,—the writer did not see the latter for some years, +during which time considerable political changes took place; the +Tories were driven from, and the Whigs placed in, office, both +events being brought about by the Radicals coalescing with the +Whigs, over whom they possessed great influence for the services +which they had rendered. When the writer next visited his +friend, he found him very much altered; his opinions were by no +means so exalted as they had been—he was not disposed even +to be rancorous against the Duke of Wellington, saying that there +were worse men than he, and giving him some credit as a general; +a hankering after gentility seeming to pervade the whole family, +father and sons, wife and daughters, all of whom talked about +genteel diversions—gentility novels, and even seemed to +look with favour on High Churchism, having in former years, to +all appearance, been bigoted Dissenters. In a little time +the writer went abroad; as, indeed, did his friend; not, however, +like the writer, at his own expense, but at that of the +country—the Whigs having given him a travelling +appointment, which he held for some years, during which he +received upwards of twelve thousand pounds of the money of the +country, for services which will, perhaps, be found inscribed on +certain tablets, when another Astolfo shall visit the moon. +This appointment, however, he lost on the Tories resuming +power—when the writer found him almost as Radical and +patriotic as ever, just engaged in trying to get into Parliament, +into which he got by the assistance of his Radical friends, who, +in conjunction with the Whigs, were just getting up a crusade +against the Tories, which they intended should be a conclusive +one.</p> +<p>A little time after the publication of “The Bible in +Spain,” the Tories being still in power, this individual, +full of the most disinterested friendship for the author, was +particularly anxious that he should be presented with an official +situation, in a certain region a great many miles off. +“You are the only person for that appointment,” said +he; “you understand a great deal about the country, and are +better acquainted with the two languages spoken there than any +one in England. Now I love my country, and have, moreover, +a great regard for you, and as I am in Parliament, and have +frequent opportunities of speaking to the Ministry, I shall take +care to tell them how desirable it would be to secure your +services. It is true they are Tories, but I think that even +Tories would give up their habitual love of jobbery in a case +like yours, and for once show themselves disposed to be honest +men and gentlemen; indeed, I have no doubt they will, for having +so deservedly an infamous character, they would be glad to get +themselves a little credit, by a presentation which could not +possibly be traced to jobbery or favouritism.”</p> +<p>The writer begged his friend to give himself no trouble about +the matter, as he was not desirous of the appointment, being in +tolerably easy circumstances, and willing to take some rest after +a life of labour. All, however, that he could say was of no +use, his friend indignantly observing, that the matter ought to +be taken entirely out of his hands, and the appointment thrust +upon him for the credit of the country. “But may not +many people be far more worthy of the appointment than +myself?” said the writer. “Where?” said +the friendly Radical. “If you don’t get it, it +will be made a job of, given to the son of some steward, or, +perhaps, to some quack who has done dirty work; I tell you what, +I shall ask it for you, in spite of you; I shall, indeed!” +and his eyes flashed with friendly and patriotic fervour through +the large pair of spectacles which he wore.</p> +<p>And, in fact, it would appear that the honest and friendly +patriot put his threat into execution. “I have +spoken,” said he, “more than once to this and that +individual in Parliament, and everybody seems to think that the +appointment should be given to you. Nay, that you should be +forced to accept it. I intend next to speak to Lord +A---” And so he did, at least it would appear +so. On the writer calling upon him one evening, about a +week afterwards, in order to take leave of him, as the writer was +about to take a long journey for the sake of his health, his +friend no sooner saw him than he started up in a violent fit of +agitation, and glancing about the room, in which there were +several people, amongst others two Whig members of Parliament, +said, “I am glad you are come, I was just speaking about +you. This,” said he, addressing the two members, +“is so and so, the author of so and so, the well-known +philologist; as I was telling you, I spoke to Lord A--- this day +about him, and said that he ought forthwith to have the head +appointment in—and what did the fellow say? Why, that +there was no necessity for such an appointment at all, and if +there were, why—and then he hummed and ha’d. +Yes,” said he, looking at the writer, “he did +indeed. What a scandal! what an infamy! But I see how +it will be, it will be a job. The place will be given to +some son of a steward or to some quack, as I said before. +Oh, these Tories! Well, if this does not make +one—” Here he stopped short, crunched his +teeth, and looked the image of desperation.</p> +<p>Seeing the poor man in this distressed condition, the writer +begged him to be comforted, and not to take the matter so much to +heart; but the indignant Radical took the matter very much to +heart, and refused all comfort whatever, bouncing about the room, +and, whilst his spectacles flashed in the light of four +spermaceti candles, exclaiming, “It will be a job—a +Tory job! I see it all, I see it all, I see it +all!”</p> +<p>And a job it proved, and a very pretty job, but no Tory +job. Shortly afterwards the Tories were out, and the Whigs +were in. From that time the writer heard not a word about +the injustice done to the country in not presenting him with the +appointment to ---; the Radical, however, was busy enough to +obtain the appointment, not for the writer, but for himself, and +eventually succeeded, partly through Radical influence, and +partly through that of a certain Whig lord, for whom the Radical +had done, on a particular occasion, work of a particular +kind. So, though the place was given to a quack, and the +whole affair a very pretty job, it was one in which the Tories +had certainly no hand.</p> +<p>In the meanwhile, however, the friendly Radical did not drop +the writer. Oh, no! On various occasions he obtained +from the writer all the information about the country in +question, and was particularly anxious to obtain from the writer, +and eventually did obtain, a copy of a work written in the court +language of that country, edited by the writer, a language +exceedingly difficult, which the writer, at the expense of a +considerable portion of his eyesight, had acquired, at least as +far as by the eyesight it could be acquired. What use the +writer’s friend made of the knowledge he had gained from +him, and what use he made of the book, the writer can only guess; +but he has little doubt that when the question of sending a +person to --- was mooted in a Parliamentary Committee—which +it was at the instigation of the writer’s friend—the +Radical on being examined about the country, gave the information +which he had obtained from the writer as his own, and flashed the +book and its singular characters in the eyes of the Committee; +and then of course his Radical friends would instantly say, +“This is the man! there is no one like him. See what +information he possesses; and see that book written by himself in +the court language of Serendib. This is the only man to +send there. What a glory, what a triumph it would be to +Britain, to send out a man so deeply versed in the mysterious +lore of—as our illustrious countryman; a person who with +his knowledge could beat with their own weapons the wise men +of— Is such an opportunity to be lost? Oh, no! surely +not; if it is, it will be an eternal disgrace to England, and the +world will see that Whigs are no better than Tories.”</p> +<p>Let no one think the writer uncharitable in these +suppositions. The writer is only too well acquainted with +the antecedents of the individual, to entertain much doubt that +he would shrink from any such conduct, provided he thought that +his temporal interest would be forwarded by it. The writer +is aware of more than one instance in which he has passed off the +literature of friendless young men for his own, after making them +a slight pecuniary compensation and deforming what was originally +excellent by interpolations of his own. This was his +especial practice with regard to translation, of which he would +fain be esteemed the king. This Radical literato is +slightly acquainted with four or five of the easier dialects of +Europe, on the strength of which knowledge he would fain pass for +a universal linguist, publishing translations of pieces +originally written in various difficult languages; which +translations, however, were either made by himself from literal +renderings done for him into French or German, or had been made +from the originals into English, by friendless young men, and +then deformed by his alterations.</p> +<p>Well, the Radical got the appointment, and the writer +certainly did not grudge it him. He, of course, was aware +that his friend had behaved in a very base manner towards him, +but he bore him no ill-will, and invariably when he heard him +spoken against, which was frequently the case, took his part when +no other person would; indeed, he could well afford to bear him +no ill-will. He had never sought for the appointment, nor +wished for it, nor, indeed, ever believed himself to be qualified +for it. He was conscious, it is true, that he was not +altogether unacquainted with the language and literature of the +country with which the appointment was connected. He was +likewise aware that he was not altogether deficient in courage +and in propriety of behaviour. He knew that his appearance +was not particularly against him; his face not being like that of +a convicted pickpocket, nor his gait resembling that of a fox who +has lost his tail; yet he never believed himself adapted for the +appointment, being aware that he had no aptitude for the doing of +dirty work, if called to do it, nor pliancy which would enable +him to submit to scurvy treatment, whether he did dirty work or +not—requisites, at the time of which he is speaking, +indispensable in every British official; requisites, by the bye, +which his friend the Radical possessed in a high degree; but +though he bore no ill-will towards his friend, his friend bore +anything but good-will towards him; for from the moment that he +had obtained the appointment for himself, his mind was filled +with the most bitter malignity against the writer, and naturally +enough; for no one ever yet behaved in a base manner towards +another, without forthwith conceiving a mortal hatred against +him. You wrong another, know yourself to have acted basely, +and are enraged, not against yourself—for no one hates +himself—but against the innocent cause of your baseness; +reasoning very plausibly, “But for that fellow, I should +never have been base; for had he not existed I could not have +been so, at any rate against him;” and this hatred is all +the more bitter, when you reflect that you have been needlessly +base.</p> +<p>Whilst the Tories are in power the writer’s friend, of +his own accord, raves against the Tories because they do not give +the writer a certain appointment, and makes, or says he makes, +desperate exertions to make them do so; but no sooner are the +Tories out, with whom he has no influence, and the Whigs in, with +whom he, or rather his party, has influence, than he gets the +place for himself, though, according to his own expressed +opinion—an opinion with which the writer does not, and +never did, concur—the writer was the only person competent +to hold it. Now had he, without saying a word to the +writer, or about the writer with respect to the employment, got +the place for himself when he had an opportunity, knowing, as he +very well knew, himself to be utterly unqualified for it, the +transaction, though a piece of jobbery, would not have merited +the title of a base transaction; as the matter stands, however, +who can avoid calling the whole affair not only a piece +of—come, come, out with the word—scoundrelism on the +part of the writer’s friend, but a most curious piece of +uncalled-for scoundrelism? and who, with any knowledge of fallen +human nature, can wonder at the writer’s friend +entertaining towards him a considerable portion of gall and +malignity?</p> +<p>This feeling on the part of the writer’s friend was +wonderfully increased by the appearance of Lavengro, many +passages of which the Radical in his foreign appointment applied +to himself and family—one or two of his children having +gone over to Popery, the rest become members of Mr. +Platitude’s chapel, and the minds of all being filled with +ultra notions of gentility.</p> +<p>The writer, hearing that his old friend had returned to +England, to apply, he believes, for an increase of salary, and +for a title, called upon him, unwillingly, it is true, for he had +no wish to see a person for whom, though he bore him no ill-will, +he could not avoid feeling a considerable portion of contempt; +the truth is, that his sole object in calling was to endeavour to +get back a piece of literary property which his friend had +obtained from him many years previously, and which, though he had +frequently applied for it, he never could get back. Well, +the writer called; he did not get his property, which, indeed, he +had scarcely time to press for, being almost instantly attacked +by his good friend and his wife—yes, it was then that the +author was set upon by an old Radical and his wife—the +wife, who looked the very image of shame and malignity, did not +say much, it is true, but encouraged her husband in all he +said. Both of their own accord introduced the subject of +Lavengro. The Radical called the writer a grumbler, just as +if there had ever been a greater grumbler than himself until, by +the means above described, he had obtained a place: he said that +the book contained a melancholy view of human nature—just +as if anybody could look in his face without having a melancholy +view of human nature. On the writer quietly observing that +the book contained an exposition of his principles, the +pseudo-Radical replied, that he cared nothing for his +principles—which was probably true, it not being likely +that he would care for another person’s principles after +having shown so thorough a disregard for his own. The +writer said that the book, of course, would give offence to +humbugs; the Radical then demanded whether he thought him a +humbug?—the wretched wife was the Radical’s +protection, even as he knew she would be; it was on her account +that the writer did not kick his good friend; as it was, he +looked at him in the face and thought to himself, “How is +it possible I should think you a humbug, when only last night I +was taking your part in a company in which everybody called you a +humbug?”</p> +<p>The Radical, probably observing something in the +writer’s eye which he did not like, became all on a sudden +abjectly submissive, and, professing the highest admiration for +the writer, begged him to visit him in his government; this the +writer promised faithfully to do, and he takes the present +opportunity of performing his promise.</p> +<p>This is one of the pseudo-Radical calumniators of Lavengro and +its author; were the writer on his deathbed he would lay his hand +on his heart and say, that he does not believe that there is one +trait of exaggeration in the portrait which he has drawn. +This is one of the pseudo-Radical calumniators of Lavengro and +its author; and this is one of the genus, who, after having +railed against jobbery for perhaps a quarter of a century, at +present batten on large official salaries which they do not +earn. England is a great country, and her interests require +that she should have many a well-paid official both at home and +abroad; but will England long continue a great country if the +care of her interests, both at home and abroad, is in many +instances intrusted to beings like him described above, whose +only recommendation for an official appointment was that he was +deeply versed in the secrets of his party and of the Whigs?</p> +<p>Before he concludes, the writer will take the liberty of +saying of Lavengro that it is a book written for the express +purpose of inculcating virtue, love of country, learning, manly +pursuits, and genuine religion, for example, that of the Church +of England, and for awakening a contempt for nonsense of every +kind, and a hatred for priestcraft, more especially that of +Rome.</p> +<p>And in conclusion, with respect to many passages of his book +in which he has expressed himself in terms neither measured nor +mealy, he will beg leave to observe, in the words of a great +poet, who lived a profligate life, it is true, but who died a +sincere penitent—thanks, after God, to good Bishop +Burnet—</p> +<blockquote><p>“All this with indignation I have +hurl’d<br /> +At the pretending part of this proud world,<br /> +Who, swollen with selfish vanity, devise<br /> +False freedoms, formal cheats, and holy lies,<br /> +Over their fellow fools to tyrannize.”</p> +<p style="text-align: right"><span +class="smcap">Rochester</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<h2>Footnotes</h2> +<p><a name="footnote1"></a><a href="#citation1" +class="footnote">[1]</a> Tipperary.</p> +<p><a name="footnote2"></a><a href="#citation2" +class="footnote">[2]</a> An obscene oath.</p> +<p><a name="footnote3"></a><a href="#citation3" +class="footnote">[3]</a> See “Muses’ +Library,” pp. 86, 87. London, 1738.</p> +<p><a name="footnote4"></a><a href="#citation4" +class="footnote">[4]</a> Genteel with them seems to be +synonymous with Gentile and Gentoo; if so, the manner in which it +has been applied for ages ceases to surprise, for genteel is +heathenish. Ideas of barbaric pearl and gold, glittering +armour, plumes, tortures, blood-shedding, and lust, should always +be connected with it. Wace, in his grand Norman poem, calls +the Baron genteel:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“La furent li gentil Baron,” etc.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And he certainly could not have applied the word better than +to the strong Norman thief, armed cap-à-pie, without one +particle of truth or generosity; for a person to be a pink of +gentility, that is heathenism, should have no such feelings; and, +indeed, the admirers of gentility seldom or never associate any +such feelings with it. It was from the Norman, the worst of +all robbers and miscreants, who built strong castles, garrisoned +them with devils, and tore out poor wretches’ eyes, as the +Saxon Chronicle says, that the English got their detestable word +genteel. What could ever have made the English such +admirers of gentility, it would be difficult to say; for, during +three hundred years, they suffered enough by it. Their +genteel Norman landlords were their scourgers, their torturers, +the plunderers of their homes, the dishonourers of their wives, +and the deflourers of their daughters. Perhaps, after all, +fear is at the root of the English veneration for gentility.</p> +<p><a name="footnote5"></a><a href="#citation5" +class="footnote">[5]</a> Gentle and gentlemanly may be +derived from the same root as genteel; but nothing can be more +distinct from the mere genteel, than the ideas which enlightened +minds associate with these words. Gentle and gentlemanly +mean something kind and genial; genteel, that which is glittering +or gaudy. A person can be a gentleman in rags, but nobody +can be genteel.</p> +<p><a name="footnote6"></a><a href="#citation6" +class="footnote">[6]</a> The writer has been checked in +print by the Scotch with being a Norfolk man. Surely, +surely, these latter times have not been exactly the ones in +which it was expedient for Scotchmen to check the children of any +county in England with the place of their birth, more especially +those who have had the honour of being born in +Norfolk—times in which British fleets, commanded by +Scotchmen, have returned laden with anything but laurels from +foreign shores. It would have been well for Britain had she +had the old Norfolk man to dispatch to the Baltic or the Black +sea, lately, instead of Scotch admirals.</p> +<p><a name="footnote7"></a><a href="#citation7" +class="footnote">[7]</a> As the present work will come out +in the midst of a vehement political contest, people may be led +to suppose that the above was written expressly for the +time. The writer therefore begs to state that it was +written in the year 1854. He cannot help adding that he is +neither Whig, Tory, nor Radical, and cares not a straw what party +governs England, provided it is governed well. But he has +no hopes of good government from the Whigs. It is true that +amongst them there is one very great man, Lord Palmerston, who is +indeed the sword and buckler, the chariots and the horses of the +party; but it is impossible for his lordship to govern well with +such colleagues as he has—colleagues which have been forced +upon him by family influence, and who are continually pestering +him into measures anything but conducive to the country’s +honour and interest. If Palmerston would govern well, he +must get rid of them; but from that step, with all his courage +and all his greatness, he will shrink. Yet how proper and +easy a step it would be! He could easily get better, but +scarcely worse, associates. They appear to have one object +in view, and only one—jobbery. It was chiefly owing +to a most flagitious piece of jobbery, which one of his +lordship’s principal colleagues sanctioned and promoted, +that his lordship experienced his late parliamentary +disasters.</p> +<p><a name="footnote8"></a><a href="#citation8" +class="footnote">[8]</a> A fact.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ROMANY RYE***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 422-h.htm or 422-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/4/2/422 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Romany Rye + + +Author: George Borrow + + + +Release Date: April 5, 2007 [eBook #422] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ROMANY RYE*** + + + +Transcribed from the 1907 J. M. Dent Edition by David Price, email +ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + + + + +THE ROMANY RYE + + +CHAPTER I + + +The Making of the Linch-pin--The Sound Sleeper--Breakfast--The +Postillion's Departure. + +I awoke at the first break of day, and, leaving the postillion fast +asleep, stepped out of the tent. The dingle was dank and dripping. I +lighted a fire of coals, and got my forge in readiness. I then ascended +to the field, where the chaise was standing as we had left it on the +previous evening. After looking at the cloud-stone near it, now cold, +and split into three pieces, I set about prying narrowly into the +condition of the wheel and axletree--the latter had sustained no damage +of any consequence, and the wheel, as far as I was able to judge, was +sound, being only slightly injured in the box. The only thing requisite +to set the chaise in a travelling condition appeared to be a linch-pin, +which I determined to make. Going to the companion wheel, I took out the +linch-pin, which I carried down with me to the dingle, to serve as a +model. + +I found Belle by this time dressed, and seated near the forge: with a +slight nod to her like that which a person gives who happens to see an +acquaintance when his mind is occupied with important business, I +forthwith set about my work. Selecting a piece of iron which I thought +would serve my purpose, I placed it in the fire, and plying the bellows +in a furious manner, soon made it hot; then seizing it with the tongs, I +laid it on my anvil, and began to beat it with my hammer, according to +the rules of my art. The dingle resounded with my strokes. Belle sat +still, and occasionally smiled, but suddenly started up, and retreated +towards her encampment, on a spark which I purposely sent in her +direction alighting on her knee. I found the making of a linch-pin no +easy matter; it was, however, less difficult than the fabrication of a +pony-shoe; my work, indeed, was much facilitated by my having another pin +to look at. In about three-quarters of an hour I had succeeded tolerably +well, and had produced a linch-pin which I thought would serve. During +all this time, notwithstanding the noise which I was making, the +postillion never showed his face. His non-appearance at first alarmed +me: I was afraid he might be dead, but, on looking into the tent, I found +him still buried in the soundest sleep. "He must surely be descended +from one of the seven sleepers," said I, as I turned away, and resumed my +work. My work finished, I took a little oil, leather, and sand, and +polished the pin as well as I could; then, summoning Belle, we both went +to the chaise, where, with her assistance, I put on the wheel. The linch- +pin which I had made fitted its place very well, and having replaced the +other, I gazed at the chaise for some time with my heart full of that +satisfaction which results from the consciousness of having achieved a +great action; then, after looking at Belle in the hope of obtaining a +compliment from her lips, which did not come, I returned to the dingle, +without saying a word, followed by her. Belle set about making +preparations for breakfast; and I taking the kettle, went and filled it +at the spring. Having hung it over the fire, I went to the tent in which +the postillion was still sleeping, and called upon him to arise. He +awoke with a start, and stared around him at first with the utmost +surprise, not unmixed, I could observe, with a certain degree of fear. At +last, looking in my face, he appeared to recollect himself. "I had quite +forgot," said he, as he got up, "where I was, and all that happened +yesterday. However, I remember now the whole affair, thunder-storm, +thunder-bolt, frightened horses, and all your kindness. Come, I must see +after my coach and horses; I hope we shall be able to repair the damage." +"The damage is already quite repaired," said I, "as you will see, if you +come to the field above." "You don't say so," said the postillion, +coming out of the tent; "well, I am mightily beholden to you. Good +morning, young gentle-woman," said he, addressing Belle, who, having +finished her preparations, was seated near the fire. "Good morning, +young man," said Belle, "I suppose you would be glad of some breakfast; +however, you must wait a little, the kettle does not boil." "Come and +look at your chaise," said I; "but tell me how it happened that the noise +which I have been making did not awake you; for three-quarters of an hour +at least I was hammering close at your ear." "I heard you all the time," +said the postillion, "but your hammering made me sleep all the sounder; I +am used to hear hammering in my morning sleep. There's a forge close by +the room where I sleep when I'm at home, at my inn; for we have all kinds +of conveniences at my inn--forge, carpenter's shop, and +wheel-wright's,--so that when I heard you hammering I thought, no doubt, +that it was the old noise, and that I was comfortable in my bed at my own +inn." We now ascended to the field, where I showed the postillion his +chaise. He looked at the pin attentively, rubbed his hands, and gave a +loud laugh. "Is it not well done?" said I. "It will do till I get +home," he replied. "And that is all you have to say?" I demanded. "And +that's a good deal," said he, "considering who made it. But don't be +offended," he added, "I shall prize it all the more for its being made by +a gentleman, and no blacksmith; and so will my governor, when I show it +to him. I shan't let it remain where it is, but will keep it, as a +remembrance of you, as long as I live." He then again rubbed his hands +with great glee, and said, "I will now go and see after my horses, and +then to breakfast, partner, if you please." Suddenly, however, looking +at his hands, he said, "Before sitting down to breakfast I am in the +habit of washing my hands and face: I suppose you could not furnish me +with a little soap and water." "As much water as you please," said I, +"but if you want soap, I must go and trouble the young gentle-woman for +some." "By no means," said the postillion, "water will do at a pinch." +"Follow me," said I, and leading him to the pond of the frogs and newts, +I said, "this is my ewer; you are welcome to part of it--the water is so +soft that it is scarcely necessary to add soap to it;" then lying down on +the bank, I plunged my head into the water, then scrubbed my hands and +face, and afterwards wiped them with some long grass which grew on the +margin of the pond. "Bravo," said the postillion, "I see you know how to +make a shift:" he then followed my example, declared he never felt more +refreshed in his life, and, giving a bound, said, "he would go and look +after his horses." + +We then went to look after the horses, which we found not much the worse +for having spent the night in the open air. My companion again inserted +their heads in the corn-bags, and, leaving the animals to discuss their +corn, returned with me to the dingle, where we found the kettle boiling. +We sat down, and Belle made tea and did the honours of the meal. The +postillion was in high spirits, ate heartily, and, to Belle's evident +satisfaction, declared that he had never drank better tea in his life, or +indeed any half so good. Breakfast over, he said that he must now go and +harness his horses, as it was high time for him to return to his inn. +Belle gave him her hand and wished him farewell: the postillion shook her +hand warmly, and was advancing close up to her--for what purpose I cannot +say--whereupon Belle, withdrawing her hand, drew herself up with an air +which caused the postillion to retreat a step or two with an exceedingly +sheepish look. Recovering himself, however, he made a low bow, and +proceeded up the path. I attended him, and helped to harness his horses +and put them to the vehicle; he then shook me by the hand, and taking the +reins and whip, mounted to his seat; ere he drove away he thus addressed +me: "If ever I forget your kindness and that of the young woman below, +dash my buttons. If ever either of you should enter my inn you may +depend upon a warm welcome, the best that can be set before you, and no +expense to either, for I will give both of you the best of characters to +the governor, who is the very best fellow upon all the road. As for your +linch-pin, I trust it will serve till I get home, when I will take it out +and keep it in remembrance of you all the days of my life:" then giving +the horses a jerk with his reins, he cracked his whip and drove off. + +I returned to the dingle, Belle had removed the breakfast things, and was +busy in her own encampment: nothing occurred, worthy of being related, +for two hours, at the end of which time Belle departed on a short +expedition, and I again found myself alone in the dingle. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +The Man in Black--The Emperor of Germany--Nepotism--Donna +Olympia--Omnipotence--Camillo Astalli--The Five Propositions. + +In the evening I received another visit from the man in black. I had +been taking a stroll in the neighbourhood, and was sitting in the dingle +in rather a listless manner, scarcely knowing how to employ myself; his +coming, therefore, was by no means disagreeable to me. I produced the +hollands and glass from my tent, where Isopel Berners had requested me to +deposit them, and also some lump sugar, then taking the gotch I fetched +water from the spring, and, sitting down, begged the man in black to help +himself; he was not slow in complying with my desire, and prepared for +himself a glass of hollands and water with a lump of sugar in it. After +he had taken two or three sips with evident satisfaction, I, remembering +his chuckling exclamation of "Go to Rome for money," when he last left +the dingle, took the liberty, after a little conversation, of reminding +him of it, whereupon, with a he! he! he! he replied, "Your idea was not +quite so original as I supposed. After leaving you the other night, I +remembered having read of an Emperor of Germany who conceived the idea of +applying to Rome for money, and actually put it into practice. + +"Urban the Eighth then occupied the papal chair, of the family of the +Barbarini, nicknamed the Mosche, or Flies, from the circumstance of bees +being their armorial bearing. The Emperor having exhausted all his money +in endeavouring to defend the church against Gustavus Adolphus, the great +King of Sweden, who was bent on its destruction, applied in his necessity +to the Pope for a loan of money. The Pope, however, and his relations, +whose cellars were at that time full of the money of the church, which +they had been plundering for years, refused to lend him a scudo; +whereupon a pasquinade picture was stuck up at Rome, representing the +church lying on a bed, gashed with dreadful wounds, and beset all over +with flies, which were sucking her, whilst the Emperor of Germany was +kneeling before her with a miserable face, requesting a little money +towards carrying on the war against the heretics, to which the poor +church was made to say: 'How can I assist you, O my champion, do you not +see that the flies have sucked me to the very bones?' Which story," said +he, "shows that the idea of going to Rome for money was not quite so +original as I imagined the other night, though utterly preposterous. + +"This affair," said he, "occurred in what were called the days of +nepotism. Certain popes, who wished to make themselves in some degree +independent of the cardinals, surrounded themselves with their nephews +and the rest of their family, who sucked the church and Christendom as +much as they could, none doing so more effectually than the relations of +Urban the Eighth, at whose death, according to the book called the +'Nipotismo di Roma,' there were in the Barbarini family two hundred and +twenty-seven governments, abbeys and high dignities; and so much hard +cash in their possession, that threescore and ten mules were scarcely +sufficient to convey the plunder of one of them to Palestrina." He +added, however, that it was probable that Christendom fared better whilst +the popes were thus independent, as it was less sucked, whereas before +and after that period it was sucked by hundreds instead of tens, by the +cardinals and all their relations, instead of by the pope and his nephews +only. + +Then, after drinking rather copiously of his hollands, he said that it +was certainly no bad idea of the popes to surround themselves with +nephews, on whom they bestowed great church dignities, as by so doing +they were tolerably safe from poison, whereas a pope, if abandoned to the +cardinals, might at any time be made away with by them, provided they +thought that he lived too long, or that he seemed disposed to do anything +which they disliked; adding, that Ganganelli would never have been +poisoned provided he had had nephews about him to take care of his life, +and to see that nothing unholy was put into his food, or a bustling +stirring brother's wife like Donna Olympia. He then with a he! he! he! +asked me if I had ever read the book called the "Nipotismo di Roma"; and +on my replying in the negative, he told me that it was a very curious and +entertaining book, which he occasionally looked at in an idle hour, and +proceeded to relate to me anecdotes out of the "Nipotismo di Roma," about +the successor of Urban, Innocent the Tenth, and Donna Olympia, showing +how fond he was of her, and how she cooked his food, and kept the +cardinals away from it, and how she and her creatures plundered +Christendom, with the sanction of the Pope, until Christendom, becoming +enraged, insisted that he should put her away, which he did for a time, +putting a nephew--one Camillo Astalli--in her place, in which, however, +he did not continue long; for the Pope, conceiving a pique against him, +banished him from his sight, and recalled Donna Olympia, who took care of +his food, and plundered Christendom until Pope Innocent died. + +I said that I only wondered that between pope and cardinals the whole +system of Rome had not long fallen to the ground, and was told, in reply, +that its not having fallen was the strongest proof of its vital power, +and the absolute necessity for the existence of the system. That the +system, notwithstanding its occasional disorders, went on. Popes and +cardinals might prey upon its bowels, and sell its interests, but the +system survived. The cutting off of this or that member was not able to +cause Rome any vital loss; for, as soon as she lost a member, the loss +was supplied by her own inherent vitality; though her popes had been +poisoned by cardinals, and her cardinals by popes; and though priests +occasionally poisoned popes, cardinals, and each other, after all that +had been, and might be, she had still, and would ever have, her priests, +cardinals, and pope. + +Finding the man in black so communicative and reasonable, I determined to +make the best of my opportunity, and learn from him all I could with +respect to the papal system, and told him that he would particularly +oblige me by telling me who the Pope of Rome was; and received for +answer, that he was an old man elected by a majority of cardinals to the +papal chair; who, immediately after his election, became omnipotent and +equal to God on earth. On my begging him not to talk such nonsense, and +asking him how a person could be omnipotent who could not always preserve +himself from poison, even when fenced round by nephews, or protected by a +bustling woman, he, after taking a long sip of hollands and water, told +me that I must not expect too much from omnipotence; for example, that as +it would be unreasonable to expect that One above could annihilate the +past--for instance, the Seven Years' War, or the French Revolution--though +any one who believed in Him would acknowledge Him to be omnipotent, so +would it be unreasonable for the faithful to expect that the Pope could +always guard himself from poison. Then, after looking at me for a moment +stedfastly, and taking another sip, he told me that popes had frequently +done impossibilities; for example, Innocent the Tenth had created a +nephew; for, not liking particularly any of his real nephews, he had +created the said Camillo Astalli his nephew; asking me, with a he! he! +"What but omnipotence could make a young man nephew to a person to whom +he was not in the slightest degree related?" On my observing that of +course no one believed that the young fellow was really the Pope's +nephew, though the Pope might have adopted him as such, the man in black +replied, "that the reality of the nephewship of Camillo Astalli had +hitherto never become a point of faith; let, however, the present pope, +or any other pope, proclaim that it is necessary to believe in the +reality of the nephewship of Camillo Astalli, and see whether the +faithful would not believe in it. Who can doubt that," he added, "seeing +that they believe in the reality of the five propositions of Jansenius? +The Jesuits, wishing to ruin the Jansenists, induced a pope to declare +that such and such damnable opinions, which they called five +propositions, were to be found in a book written by Jansen, though, in +reality, no such propositions were to be found there; whereupon the +existence of these propositions became forthwith a point of faith to the +faithful. Do you then think," he demanded, "that there is one of the +faithful who would not swallow, if called upon, the nephewship of Camillo +Astalli as easily as the five propositions of Jansenius?" "Surely, +then," said I, "the faithful must be a pretty pack of simpletons!" +Whereupon the man in black exclaimed, "What! a Protestant, and an +infringer of the rights of faith! Here's a fellow, who would feel +himself insulted if any one were to ask him how he could believe in the +miraculous conception, calling people simpletons who swallow the five +propositions of Jansenius, and are disposed, if called upon, to swallow +the reality of the nephewship of Camillo Astalli." + +I was about to speak, when I was interrupted by the arrival of Belle. +After unharnessing her donkey, and adjusting her person a little, she +came and sat down by us. In the meantime I had helped my companion to +some more hollands and water, and had plunged with him into yet deeper +discourse. + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +Necessity of Religion--The Great Indian One--Image-worship--Shakespeare--The +Pat Answer--Krishna--Amen. + +Having told the man in black that I should like to know all the truth +with regard to the Pope and his system, he assured me he should be +delighted to give me all the information in his power; that he had come +to the dingle, not so much for the sake of the good cheer which I was in +the habit of giving him, as in the hope of inducing me to enlist under +the banners of Rome, and to fight in her cause; and that he had no doubt +that, by speaking out frankly to me, he ran the best chance of winning me +over. + +He then proceeded to tell me that the experience of countless ages had +proved the necessity of religion; the necessity, he would admit, was only +for simpletons; but as nine-tenths of the dwellers upon this earth were +simpletons, it would never do for sensible people to run counter to their +folly, but, on the contrary, it was their wisest course to encourage them +in it, always provided that, by so doing, sensible people would derive +advantage; that the truly sensible people of this world were the priests, +who, without caring a straw for religion for its own sake, made use of it +as a cord by which to draw the simpletons after them; that there were +many religions in this world, all of which had been turned to excellent +account by the priesthood; but that the one the best adapted for the +purposes of priestcraft was the popish, which, he said, was the oldest in +the world and the best calculated to endure. On my inquiring what he +meant by saying the popish religion was the oldest in the world, whereas +there could be no doubt that the Greek and Roman religion had existed +long before it, to say nothing of the old Indian religion still in +existence and vigour; he said, with a nod, after taking a sip at his +glass, that, between me and him, the popish religion, that of Greece and +Rome, and the old Indian system were, in reality, one and the same. + +"You told me that you intended to be frank," said I; "but, however frank +you may be, I think you are rather wild." + +"We priests of Rome," said the man in black, "even those amongst us who +do not go much abroad, know a great deal about church matters, of which +you heretics have very little idea. Those of our brethren of the +Propaganda, on their return home from distant missions, not unfrequently +tell us very strange things relating to our dear mother; for example, our +first missionaries to the East were not slow in discovering and telling +to their brethren that our religion and the great Indian one were +identical, no more difference between them than between Ram and Rome. +Priests, convents, beads, prayers, processions, fastings, penances, all +the same, not forgetting anchorites and vermin, he! he! The pope they +found under the title of the grand lama, a sucking child surrounded by an +immense number of priests. Our good brethren, some two hundred years +ago, had a hearty laugh, which their successors have often re-echoed; +they said that helpless suckling and its priests put them so much in mind +of their own old man, surrounded by his cardinals, he! he! Old age is +second childhood." + +"Did they find Christ?" said I. + +"They found him too," said the man in black, "that is, they saw his +image; he is considered in India as a pure kind of being, and on that +account, perhaps, is kept there rather in the background, even as he is +here." + +"All this is very mysterious to me," said I. + +"Very likely," said the man in black; "but of this I am tolerably sure, +and so are most of those of Rome, that modern Rome had its religion from +ancient Rome, which had its religion from the East." + +"But how?" I demanded. + +"It was brought about, I believe, by the wanderings of nations," said the +man in black. "A brother of the Propaganda, a very learned man, once +told me--I do not mean Mezzofanti, who has not five ideas--this brother +once told me that all we of the Old World, from Calcutta to Dublin, are +of the same stock, and were originally of the same language, and--" + +"All of one religion," I put in. + +"All of one religion," said the man in black; "and now follow different +modifications of the same religion." + +"We Christians are not image-worshippers," said I. + +"You heretics are not, you mean," said the man in black; "but you will be +put down, just as you have always been, though others may rise up after +you; the true religion is image-worship; people may strive against it, +but they will only work themselves to an oil; how did it fare with that +Greek Emperor, the Iconoclast, what was his name, Leon the Isaurian? Did +not his image-breaking cost him Italy, the fairest province of his +empire, and did not ten fresh images start up at home for every one which +he demolished? Oh! you little know the craving which the soul sometimes +feels after a good bodily image." + +"I have indeed no conception of it," said I; "I have an abhorrence of +idolatry--the idea of bowing before a graven figure!" + +"The idea, indeed!" said Belle, who had now joined us. + +"Did you never bow before that of Shakespeare?" said the man in black, +addressing himself to me, after a low bow to Belle. + +"I don't remember that I ever did," said I, "but even suppose I did?" + +"Suppose you did," said the man in black; "shame on you, Mr. Hater of +Idolatry; why, the very supposition brings you to the ground; you must +make figures of Shakespeare, must you? then why not of St. Antonio, or +Ignacio, or of a greater personage still! I know what you are going to +say," he cried, interrupting me, as I was about to speak. "You don't +make his image in order to pay it divine honours, but only to look at it, +and think of Shakespeare; but this looking at a thing in order to think +of a person is the very basis of idolatry. Shakespeare's works are not +sufficient for you; no more are the Bible or the legend of Saint Anthony +or Saint Ignacio for us, that is for those of us who believe in them; I +tell you, Zingara, that no religion can exist long which rejects a good +bodily image." + +"Do you think," said I, "that Shakespeare's works would not exist without +his image?" + +"I believe," said the man in black, "that Shakespeare's image is looked +at more than his works, and will be looked at, and perhaps adored, when +they are forgotten. I am surprised that they have not been forgotten +long ago; I am no admirer of them." + +"But I can't imagine," said I, "how you will put aside the authority of +Moses. If Moses strove against image-worship, should not his doing so be +conclusive as to the impropriety of the practice; what higher authority +can you have than that of Moses?" + +"The practice of the great majority of the human race," said the man in +black, "and the recurrence to image-worship where image-worship has been +abolished. Do you know that Moses is considered by the church as no +better than a heretic, and though, for particular reasons, it has been +obliged to adopt his writings, the adoption was merely a sham one, as it +never paid the slightest attention to them? No, no, the church was never +led by Moses, nor by one mightier than he, whose doctrine it has equally +nullified--I allude to Krishna in his second avatar; the church, it is +true, governs in his name, but not unfrequently gives him the lie, if he +happens to have said anything which it dislikes. Did you never hear the +reply which Padre Paolo Segani made to the French Protestant Jean +Anthoine Guerin, who had asked him whether it was easier for Christ to +have been mistaken in his Gospel, than for the Pope to be mistaken in his +decrees?" + +"I never heard their names before," said I. + +"The answer was pat," said the man in black, "though he who made it was +confessedly the most ignorant fellow of the very ignorant order to which +he belonged, the Augustine. 'Christ might err as a man,' said he, 'but +the Pope can never err, being God.' The whole story is related in the +Nipotismo." + +"I wonder you should ever have troubled yourself with Christ at all," +said I. + +"What was to be done?" said the man in black; "the power of that name +suddenly came over Europe, like the power of a mighty wind; it was said +to have come from Judea, and from Judea it probably came when it first +began to agitate minds in these parts; but it seems to have been known in +the remote East, more or less, for thousands of years previously. It +filled people's minds with madness; it was followed by books which were +never much regarded, as they contained little of insanity; but the name! +what fury that breathed into people! the books were about peace and +gentleness, but the name was the most horrible of war-cries--those who +wished to uphold old names at first strove to oppose it, but their +efforts were feeble, and they had no good war-cry; what was Mars as a war- +cry compared with the name of . . . ? It was said that they persecuted +terribly, but who said so? The Christians. The Christians could have +given them a lesson in the art of persecution, and eventually did so. +None but Christians have ever been good persecutors; well, the old +religion succumbed, Christianity prevailed, for the ferocious is sure to +prevail over the gentle." + +"I thought," said I, "you stated a little time ago that the Popish +religion and the ancient Roman are the same?" + +"In every point but that name, that Krishna and the fury and love of +persecution which it inspired," said the man in black. "A hot blast came +from the East, sounding Krishna; it absolutely maddened people's minds, +and the people would call themselves his children; we will not belong to +Jupiter any longer, we will belong to Krishna, and they did belong to +Krishna; that is in name, but in nothing else; for who ever cared for +Krishna in the Christian world, or who ever regarded the words attributed +to him, or put them in practice?" + +"Why, we Protestants regard his words, and endeavour to practise what +they enjoin as much as possible." + +"But you reject his image," said the man in black; "better reject his +words than his image: no religion can exist long which rejects a good +bodily image. Why, the very negro barbarians of High Barbary could give +you a lesson on that point; they have their fetish images, to which they +look for help in their afflictions; they have likewise a high priest, +whom they call--" + +"Mumbo Jumbo," said I; "I know all about him already." + +"How came you to know anything about him?" said the man in black, with a +look of some surprise. + +"Some of us poor Protestants tinkers," said I, "though we live in +dingles, are also acquainted with a thing or two." + +"I really believe you are," said the man in black, staring at me; "but, +in connection with this Mumbo Jumbo, I could relate to you a comical +story about a fellow, an English servant, I once met at Rome." + +"It would be quite unnecessary," said I; "I would much sooner hear you +talk about Krishna, his words and image." + +"Spoken like a true heretic," said the man in black; "one of the faithful +would have placed his image before his words; for what are all the words +in the world compared with a good bodily image!" + +"I believe you occasionally quote his words?" said I. + +"He! he!" said the man in black; "occasionally." + +"For example," said I, "upon this rock I will found my church." + +"He! he!" said the man in black; "you must really become one of us." + +"Yet you must have had some difficulty in getting the rock to Rome?" + +"None whatever," said the man in black; "faith can remove mountains, to +say nothing of rocks--ho! ho!" + +"But I cannot imagine," said I, "what advantage you could derive from +perverting those words of Scripture in which the Saviour talks about +eating his body." + +"I do not know, indeed, why we troubled our heads about the matter at +all," said the man in black; "but when you talk about perverting the +meaning of the text, you speak ignorantly, Mr. Tinker; when he whom you +call the Saviour gave his followers the sop, and bade them eat it, +telling them it was his body, he delicately alluded to what it was +incumbent upon them to do after his death, namely, to eat his body." + +"You do not mean to say that he intended they should actually eat his +body?" + +"Then you suppose ignorantly," said the man in black; "eating the bodies +of the dead was a heathenish custom, practised by the heirs and legatees +of people who left property; and this custom is alluded to in the text." + +"But what has the New Testament to do with heathen customs," said I, +"except to destroy them?" + +"More than you suppose," said the man in black. "We priests of Rome, who +have long lived at Rome, know much better what the New Testament is made +of than the heretics and their theologians, not forgetting their Tinkers; +though I confess some of the latter have occasionally surprised us--for +example, Bunyan. The New Testament is crowded with allusions to heathen +customs, and with words connected with pagan sorcery. Now, with respect +to words, I would fain have you, who pretend to be a philologist, tell me +the meaning of Amen." + +I made no answer. + +"We of Rome," said the man in black, "know two or three things of which +the heretics are quite ignorant; for example, there are those amongst +us--those, too, who do not pretend to be philologists--who know what Amen +is, and, moreover, how we got it. We got it from our ancestors, the +priests of ancient Rome; and they got the word from their ancestors of +the East, the priests of Buddh and Brahma." + +"And what is the meaning of the word?" I demanded. + +"Amen," said the man in black, "is a modification of the old Hindoo +formula, Omani batsikhom, by the almost ceaseless repetition of which the +Indians hope to be received finally to the rest or state of forgetfulness +of Buddh or Brahma; a foolish practice you will say, but are you heretics +much wiser, who are continually sticking Amen to the end of your prayers, +little knowing when you do so, that you are consigning yourselves to the +repose of Buddh! Oh, what hearty laughs our missionaries have had when +comparing the eternally-sounding Eastern gibberish of Omani batsikhom, +Omani batsikhom, and the Ave Maria and Amen Jesus of our own idiotical +devotees." + +"I have nothing to say about the Ave Marias and Amens of your +superstitious devotees," said I; "I dare say that they use them +nonsensically enough, but in putting Amen to the end of a prayer, we +merely intend to express, 'So let it be.'" + +"It means nothing of the kind," said the man in black; "and the Hindoos +might just as well put your national oath at the end of their prayers, as +perhaps they will after a great many thousand years, when English is +forgotten, and only a few words of it remembered by dim tradition without +being understood. How strange if, after the lapse of four thousand +years, the Hindoos should damn themselves to the blindness so dear to +their present masters, even as their masters at present consign +themselves to the forgetfulness so dear to the Hindoos; but my glass has +been empty for a considerable time; perhaps, Bellissima Biondina," said +he, addressing Belle, "you will deign to replenish it?" + +"I shall do no such thing," said Belle, "you have drunk quite enough, and +talked more than enough, and to tell you the truth I wish you would leave +us alone." + +"Shame on you, Belle," said I; "consider the obligations of hospitality." + +"I am sick of that word," said Belle, "you are so frequently misusing it; +were this place not Mumpers' Dingle, and consequently as free to the +fellow as ourselves, I would lead him out of it." + +"Pray be quiet, Belle," said I. "You had better help yourself," said I, +addressing myself to the man in black, "the lady is angry with you." + +"I am sorry for it," said the man in black; "if she is angry with me, I +am not so with her, and shall be always proud to wait upon her; in the +meantime, I will wait upon myself." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +The Proposal--The Scotch Novel--Latitude--Miracles--Pestilent +Heretics--Old Fraser--Wonderful Texts--No Armenian. + +The man in black having helped himself to some more of his favourite +beverage, and tasted it, I thus addressed him: "The evening is getting +rather advanced, and I can see that this lady," pointing to Belle, "is +anxious for her tea, which she prefers to take cosily and comfortably +with me in the dingle: the place, it is true, is as free to you as to +ourselves, nevertheless, as we are located here by necessity, whilst you +merely come as a visitor, I must take the liberty of telling you that we +shall be glad to be alone, as soon as you have said what you have to say, +and have finished the glass of refreshment at present in your hand. I +think you said some time ago that one of your motives for coming hither +was to induce me to enlist under the banner of Rome. I wish to know +whether that was really the case?" + +"Decidedly so," said the man in black; "I come here principally in the +hope of enlisting you in our regiment, in which I have no doubt you could +do us excellent service." + +"Would you enlist my companion as well?" I demanded. + +"We should be only too proud to have her among us, whether she comes with +you or alone," said the man in black, with a polite bow to Belle. + +"Before we give you an answer," I replied, "I would fain know more about +you; perhaps you will declare your name?" + +"That I will never do," said the man in black; "no one in England knows +it but myself, and I will not declare it, even in a dingle; as for the +rest, _Sono un Prete Cattolico Appostolico_--that is all that many a one +of us can say for himself, and it assuredly means a great deal." + +"We will now proceed to business," said I. "You must be aware that we +English are generally considered a self-interested people." + +"And with considerable justice," said the man in black, drinking. "Well, +you are a person of acute perception, and I will presently make it +evident to you that it would be to your interest to join with us. You +are at present, evidently, in very needy circumstances, and are lost, not +only to yourself, but to the world; but should you enlist with us, I +could find you an occupation not only agreeable, but one in which your +talents would have free scope. I would introduce you in the various +grand houses here in England, to which I have myself admission, as a +surprising young gentleman of infinite learning, who by dint of study has +discovered that the Roman is the only true faith. I tell you confidently +that our popish females would make a saint, nay, a God of you; they are +fools enough for anything. There is one person in particular with whom I +would wish to make you acquainted, in the hope that you would be able to +help me to perform good service to the holy see. He is a gouty old +fellow, of some learning, residing in an old hall, near the great western +seaport, and is one of the very few amongst the English Catholics +possessing a grain of sense. I think you could help us to govern him, +for he is not unfrequently disposed to be restive, asks us strange +questions--occasionally threatens us with his crutch; and behaves so that +we are often afraid that we shall lose him, or, rather, his property, +which he has bequeathed to us, and which is enormous. I am sure that you +could help us to deal with him; sometimes with your humour, sometimes +with your learning, and perhaps occasionally with your fists." + +"And in what manner would you provide for my companion?" said I. + +"We would place her at once," said the man in black, "in the house of two +highly respectable Catholic ladies in this neighbourhood, where she would +be treated with every care and consideration till her conversion should +be accomplished in a regular manner; we would then remove her to a female +monastic establishment, where, after undergoing a year's probation, +during which time she would be instructed in every elegant +accomplishment, she should take the veil. Her advancement would speedily +follow, for, with such a face and figure, she would make a capital lady +abbess, especially in Italy, to which country she would probably be sent; +ladies of her hair and complexion--to say nothing of her height--being a +curiosity in the south. With a little care and management she could soon +obtain a vast reputation for sanctity; and who knows but after her death +she might become a glorified saint--he! he! Sister Maria Theresa, for +that is the name I propose you should bear. Holy Mother Maria +Theresa--glorified and celestial saint, I have the honour of drinking to +your health," and the man in black drank. + +"Well, Belle," said I, "what have you to say to the gentleman's +proposal?" + +"That if he goes on in this way I will break his glass against his +mouth." + +"You have heard the lady's answer," said I. + +"I have," said the man in black, "and shall not press the matter. I +can't help, however, repeating that she would make a capital lady abbess; +she would keep the nuns in order, I warrant her; no easy matter! Break +the glass against my mouth--he! he! How she would send the holy utensils +flying at the nuns' heads occasionally, and just the person to wring the +nose of Satan, should he venture to appear one night in her cell in the +shape of a handsome black man. No offence, madam, no offence, pray +retain your seat," said he, observing that Belle had started up; "I mean +no offence. Well, if you will not consent to be an abbess, perhaps you +will consent to follow this young Zingaro, and to co-operate with him and +us. I am a priest, madam, and can join you both in an instant, _connubio +stabili_, as I suppose the knot has not been tied already." + +"Hold your mumping gibberish," said Belle, "and leave the dingle this +moment, for though 'tis free to every one, you have no right to insult me +in it." + +"Pray be pacified," said I to Belle, getting up, and placing myself +between her and the man in black, "he will presently leave, take my word +for it--there, sit down again," said I, as I led her to her seat; then, +resuming my own, I said to the man in black: "I advise you to leave the +dingle as soon as possible." + +"I should wish to have your answer to my proposal first," said he. + +"Well, then, here you shall have it: I will not entertain your proposal; +I detest your schemes: they are both wicked and foolish." + +"Wicked," said the man in black, "have they not--he! he!--the furtherance +of religion in view?" + +"A religion," said I, "in which you yourself do not believe, and which +you contemn." + +"Whether I believe in it or not," said the man in black, "it is adapted +for the generality of the human race; so I will forward it, and advise +you to do the same. It was nearly extirpated in these regions, but it is +springing up again, owing to circumstances. Radicalism is a good friend +to us; all the liberals laud up our system out of hatred to the +Established Church, though our system is ten times less liberal than the +Church of England. Some of them have really come over to us. I myself +confess a baronet who presided over the first radical meeting ever held +in England--he was an atheist when he came over to us, in the hope of +mortifying his own church--but he is now--ho! ho!--a real Catholic +devotee--quite afraid of my threats; I make him frequently scourge +himself before me. Well, Radicalism does us good service, especially +amongst the lower classes, for Radicalism chiefly flourishes amongst +them; for though a baronet or two may be found amongst the radicals, and +perhaps as many lords--fellows who have been discarded by their own order +for clownishness, or something they have done--it incontestably +flourishes best among the lower orders. Then the love of what is foreign +is a great friend to us; this love is chiefly confined to the middle and +upper classes. Some admire the French, and imitate them; others must +needs be Spaniards, dress themselves up in a zamarra, stick a cigar in +their mouth, and say, 'Carajo.' Others would pass for Germans; he! he! +the idea of any one wishing to pass for a German! but what has done us +more service than anything else in these regions--I mean amidst the +middle classes--has been the novel, the Scotch novel. The good folks, +since they have read the novels, have become Jacobites; and, because all +the Jacobs were Papists, the good folks must become Papists also, or, at +least, papistically inclined. The very Scotch Presbyterians, since they +have read the novels, are become all but Papists; I speak advisedly, +having lately been amongst them. There's a trumpery bit of a half papist +sect, called the Scotch Episcopalian Church, which lay dormant and nearly +forgotten for upwards of a hundred years, which has of late got +wonderfully into fashion in Scotland, because, forsooth, some of the long- +haired gentry of the novels were said to belong to it, such as Montrose +and Dundee; and to this the Presbyterians are going over in throngs, +traducing and vilifying their own forefathers, or denying them +altogether, and calling themselves descendants of--ho! ho! ho!--Scottish +Cavaliers!!! I have heard them myself repeating snatches of Jacobite +ditties about 'Bonnie Dundee,' and-- + + "'Come, fill up my cup, and fill up my can, + And saddle my horse, and call up my man.' + +There's stuff for you! Not that I object to the first part of the ditty. +It is natural enough that a Scotchman should cry, 'Come, fill up my cup!' +more especially if he's drinking at another person's expense--all +Scotchmen being fond of liquor at free cost: but 'Saddle his +horse!!!'--for what purpose, I would ask? Where is the use of saddling a +horse, unless you can ride him? and where was there ever a Scotchman who +could ride?" + +"Of course you have not a drop of Scotch blood in your veins," said I, +"otherwise you would never have uttered that last sentence." + +"Don't be too sure of that," said the man in black; "you know little of +Popery if you imagine that it cannot extinguish love of country, even in +a Scotchman. A thorough-going Papist--and who more thorough-going than +myself?--cares nothing for his country; and why should he? he belongs to +a system, and not to a country." + +"One thing," said I, "connected with you, I cannot understand; you call +yourself a thorough-going Papist, yet are continually saying the most +pungent things against Popery, and turning to unbounded ridicule those +who show any inclination to embrace it." + +"Rome is a very sensible old body," said the man in black, "and little +cares what her children say, provided they do her bidding. She knows +several things, and amongst others, that no servants work so hard and +faithfully as those who curse their masters at every stroke they do. She +was not fool enough to be angry with the Miquelets of Alba, who renounced +her, and called her 'puta' all the time they were cutting the throats of +the Netherlanders. Now, if she allowed her faithful soldiers the +latitude of renouncing her, and calling her 'puta' in the market-place, +think not she is so unreasonable as to object to her faithful priests +occasionally calling her 'puta' in the dingle." + +"But," said I, "suppose some one were to tell the world some of the +disorderly things which her priests say in the dingle?" + +"He would have the fate of Cassandra," said the man in black; "no one +would believe him--yes, the priests would: but they would make no sign of +belief. They believe in the Alcoran des Cordeliers--that is, those who +have read it; but they make no sign." + +"A pretty system," said I, "which extinguishes love of country and of +everything noble, and brings the minds of its ministers to a parity with +those of devils, who delight in nothing but mischief." + +"The system," said the man in black, "is a grand one, with unbounded +vitality. Compare it with your Protestantism, and you will see the +difference. Popery is ever at work, whilst Protestantism is supine. A +pretty church, indeed, the Protestant! Why, it can't even work a +miracle." + +"Can your church work miracles?" I demanded. + +"That was the very question," said the man in black, "which the ancient +British clergy asked of Austin Monk, after they had been fools enough to +acknowledge their own inability. 'We don't pretend to work miracles; do +you?' 'Oh! dear me, yes,' said Austin; 'we find no difficulty in the +matter. We can raise the dead, we can make the blind see; and to +convince you, I will give sight to the blind. Here is this blind Saxon, +whom you cannot cure, but on whose eyes I will manifest my power, in +order to show the difference between the true and the false church;' and +forthwith, with the assistance of a handkerchief and a little hot water, +he opened the eyes of the barbarian. So we manage matters! A pretty +church, that old British church, which could not work miracles--quite as +helpless as the modern one. The fools! was birdlime so scarce a thing +amongst them?--and were the properties of warm water so unknown to them, +that they could not close a pair of eyes and open them?" + +"It's a pity," said I, "that the British clergy at that interview with +Austin, did not bring forward a blind Welshman, and ask the monk to +operate upon him." + +"Clearly," said the man in black; "that's what they ought to have done; +but they were fools without a single resource." Here he took a sip at +his glass. + +"But they did not believe in the miracle?" said I. + +"And what did their not believing avail them?" said the man in black. +"Austin remained master of the field, and they went away holding their +heads down, and muttering to themselves. What a fine subject for a +painting would be Austin's opening the eyes of the Saxon barbarian, and +the discomfiture of the British clergy! I wonder it has not been +painted!--he! he!" + +"I suppose your church still performs miracles occasionally!" said I. + +"It does," said the man in black. "The Rev. --- has lately been +performing miracles in Ireland, destroying devils that had got possession +of people; he has been eminently successful. In two instances he not +only destroyed the devils, but the lives of the people possessed--he! he! +Oh! there is so much energy in our system; we are always at work, whilst +Protestantism is supine." + +"You must not imagine," said I, "that all Protestants are supine; some of +them appear to be filled with unbounded zeal. They deal, it is true, not +in lying miracles, but they propagate God's Word. I remember only a few +months ago, having occasion for a Bible, going to an establishment, the +object of which was to send Bibles all over the world. The supporters of +that establishment could have no self-interested views; for I was +supplied by them with a noble-sized Bible at a price so small as to +preclude the idea that it could bring any profit to the vendors." + +The countenance of the man in black slightly fell. "I know the people to +whom you allude," said he; "indeed, unknown to them, I have frequently +been to see them, and observed their ways. I tell you frankly that there +is not a set of people in this kingdom who have caused our church so much +trouble and uneasiness. I should rather say that they alone cause us +any; for as for the rest, what with their drowsiness, their plethora, +their folly and their vanity, they are doing us anything but mischief. +These fellows are a pestilent set of heretics, whom we would gladly see +burnt; they are, with the most untiring perseverance, and in spite of +divers minatory declarations of the holy father, scattering their books +abroad through all Europe, and have caused many people in Catholic +countries to think that hitherto their priesthood have endeavoured, as +much as possible, to keep them blinded. There is one fellow amongst them +for whom we entertain a particular aversion; a big, burly parson, with +the face of a lion, the voice of a buffalo, and a fist like a +sledge-hammer. The last time I was there, I observed that his eye was +upon me, and I did not like the glance he gave me at all; I observed him +clench his fist, and I took my departure as fast as I conveniently could. +Whether he suspected who I was, I know not; but I did not like his look +at all, and do not intend to go again." + +"Well, then," said I, "you confess that you have redoubtable enemies to +your plans in these regions, and that even amongst the ecclesiastics +there are some widely different from those of the plethoric and Platitude +schools?" + +"It is but too true," said the man in black; "and if the rest of your +church were like them we should quickly bid adieu to all hope of +converting these regions, but we are thankful to be able to say that such +folks are not numerous; there are, moreover, causes at work quite +sufficient to undermine even their zeal. Their sons return at the +vacations, from Oxford and Cambridge, puppies, full of the nonsense which +they have imbibed from Platitude professors; and this nonsense they +retail at home, where it fails not to make some impression, whilst the +daughters scream--I beg their pardons--warble about Scotland's Montrose, +and Bonny Dundee, and all the Jacobs; so we have no doubt that their +papas' zeal about the propagation of such a vulgar book as the Bible will +in a very little time be terribly diminished. Old Rome will win, so you +had better join her." + +And the man in black drained the last drop in his glass. + +"Never," said I, "will I become the slave of Rome." + +"She will allow you latitude," said the man in black; "do but serve her, +and she will allow you to call her 'puta' at a decent time and place, her +popes occasionally call her 'puta.' A pope has been known to start from +his bed at midnight and rush out into the corridor, and call out 'puta' +three times in a voice which pierced the Vatican; that pope was--" + +"Alexander the Sixth, I dare say," said I; "the greatest monster that +ever existed, though the worthiest head which the pope system ever had--so +his conscience was not always still. I thought it had been seared with a +brand of iron." + +"I did not allude to him, but to a much more modern pope," said the man +in black; "it is true he brought the word, which is Spanish, from Spain, +his native country, to Rome. He was very fond of calling the church by +that name, and other popes have taken it up. She will allow you to call +her by it, if you belong to her." + +"I shall call her so," said I, "without belonging to her, or asking her +permission." + +"She will allow you to treat her as such, if you belong to her," said the +man in black; "there is a chapel in Rome, where there is a wondrously +fair statue--the son of a cardinal--I mean his nephew--once--Well, she +did not cut off his head, but slightly boxed his cheek and bade him go." + +"I have read all about that in 'Keysler's Travels,'" said I; "do you tell +her that I would not touch her with a pair of tongs, unless to seize her +nose." + +"She is fond of lucre," said the man in black; "but does not grudge a +faithful priest a little private perquisite," and he took out a very +handsome gold repeater. + +"Are you not afraid," said I, "to flash that watch before the eyes of a +poor tinker in a dingle?" + +"Not before the eyes of one like you," said the man in black. + +"It is getting late," said I; "I care not for perquisites." + +"So you will not join us?" said the man in black. + +"You have had my answer," said I. + +"If I belong to Rome," said the man in black, "why should not you?" + +"I may be a poor tinker," said I; "but I may never have undergone what +you have. You remember, perhaps, the fable of the fox who had lost his +tail?" + +The man in black winced, but almost immediately recovering himself, he +said, "Well, we can do without you, we are sure of winning." + +"It is not the part of wise people," said I, "to make sure of the battle +before it is fought: there's the landlord of the public-house, who made +sure that his cocks would win, yet the cocks lost the main, and the +landlord is little better than a bankrupt." + +"People very different from the landlord," said the man in black, "both +in intellect and station, think we shall surely win; there are clever +machinators among us who have no doubt of our success." + +"Well," said I, "I will set the landlord aside, and will adduce one who +was in every point a very different person from the landlord, both in +understanding and station; he was very fond of laying schemes, and, +indeed, many of them turned out successful. His last and darling one, +however, miscarried, notwithstanding that by his calculations he had +persuaded himself that there was no possibility of its failing--the +person that I allude to was old Fraser--" + +"Who?" said the man in black, giving a start, and letting his glass fall. + +"Old Fraser, of Lovat," said I, "the prince of all conspirators and +machinators; he made sure of placing the Pretender on the throne of these +realms. 'I can bring into the field so many men,' said he; 'my son-in- +law Cluny, so many, and likewise my cousin, and my good friend;' then +speaking of those on whom the government reckoned for support, he would +say, 'So and so are lukewarm, this person is ruled by his wife, who is +with us, the clergy are anything but hostile to us, and as for the +soldiers and sailors, half are disaffected to King George, and the rest +cowards.' Yet when things came to a trial, this person whom he had +calculated upon to join the Pretender did not stir from his home, another +joined the hostile ranks, the presumed cowards turned out heroes, and +those whom he thought heroes ran away like lusty fellows at Culloden; in +a word, he found himself utterly mistaken, and in nothing more than in +himself; he thought he was a hero, and proved himself nothing more than +an old fox; he got up a hollow tree, didn't he, just like a fox? + + "'L'opere sue non furon leonine, ma di volpe.'" + +The man in black sat silent for a considerable time, and at length +answered in rather a faltering voice, "I was not prepared for this; you +have frequently surprised me by your knowledge of things which I should +never have expected any person of your appearance to be acquainted with, +but that you should be aware of my name is a circumstance utterly +incomprehensible to me. I had imagined that no person in England was +acquainted with it; indeed, I don't see how any person should be, I have +revealed it to no one, not being particularly proud of it. Yes, I +acknowledge that my name is Fraser, and that I am of the blood of that +family or clan, of which the rector of our college once said, that he was +firmly of opinion that every individual member was either rogue or fool. +I was born at Madrid, of pure, _oime_, Fraser blood. My parents, at an +early age, took me to ---, where they shortly died, not, however, before +they had placed me in the service of a cardinal, with whom I continued +for some years, and who, when he had no further occasion for me, sent me +to the college, in the left-hand cloister of which, as you enter, rest +the bones of Sir John ---; there, in studying logic and humane letters, I +lost whatever of humanity I had retained when discarded by the cardinal. +Let me not, however, forget two points,--I am a Fraser, it is true, but +not a Flannagan; I may bear the vilest name of Britain, but not of +Ireland; I was bred up at the English house, and there is at--a house for +the education of bogtrotters; I was not bred up at that; beneath the +lowest gulf, there is one yet lower; whatever my blood may be, it is at +least not Irish; whatever my education may have been, I was not bred at +the Irish seminary--on those accounts I am thankful--yes, _per dio_! I +am thankful. After some years at college--but why should I tell you my +history? you know it already perfectly well, probably much better than +myself. I am now a missionary priest, labouring in heretic England, like +Parsons and Garnet of old, save and except that, unlike them, I run no +danger, for the times are changed. As I told you before, I shall cleave +to Rome--I must; _no hay remedio_, as they say at Madrid, and I will do +my best to further her holy plans--he! he!--but I confess I begin to +doubt of their being successful here--you put me out; old Fraser, of +Lovat! I have heard my father talk of him; he had a gold-headed cane, +with which he once knocked my grandfather down--he was an astute one, +but, as you say, mistaken, particularly in himself. I have read his life +by Arbuthnot, it is in the library of our college. Farewell! I shall +come no more to this dingle--to come would be of no utility; I shall go +and labour elsewhere, though--how you came to know my name, is a fact +quite inexplicable--farewell! to you both." + +He then arose; and without further salutation departed from the dingle, +in which I never saw him again. "How, in the name of wonder, came you to +know that man's name?" said Belle, after he had been gone some time. + +"I, Belle? I knew nothing of the fellow's name, I assure you." + +"But you mentioned his name." + +"If I did, it was merely casually, by way of illustration. I was saying +how frequently cunning people were mistaken in their calculations, and I +adduced the case of old Fraser, of Lovat, as one in point; I brought +forward his name, because I was well acquainted with his history, from +having compiled and inserted it in a wonderful work, which I edited some +months ago, entitled 'Newgate Lives and Trials,' but without the +slightest idea that it was the name of him who was sitting with us; he, +however, thought that I was aware of his name. Belle! Belle! for a long +time I doubted the truth of Scripture, owing to certain conceited +individuals, but now I begin to believe firmly; what wonderful texts are +in Scripture, Belle; 'The wicked trembleth where--where--'" + +"'They were afraid where no fear was; thou hast put them to confusion, +because God hath despised them,'" said Belle; "I have frequently read it +before the clergyman in the great house of Long Melford. But if you did +not know the man's name, why let him go away supposing that you did?" + +"Oh, if he was fool enough to make such a mistake, I was not going to +undeceive him--no, no! Let the enemies of old England make the most of +all their blunders and mistakes, they will have no help from me; but +enough of the fellow, Belle; let us now have tea, and after that--" + +"No Armenian," said Belle; "but I want to ask a question: pray are all +people of that man's name either rogues or fools?" + +"It is impossible for me to say, Belle, this person being the only one of +the name I have ever personally known. I suppose there are good and bad, +clever and foolish, amongst them, as amongst all large bodies of people; +however, after the tribe had been governed for upwards of thirty years, +by such a person as old Fraser, it were no wonder if the greater part had +become either rogues or fools: he was a ruthless tyrant, Belle, over his +own people, and by his cruelty and rapaciousness must either have stunned +them into an apathy approaching to idiotcy, or made them artful knaves in +their own defence. The qualities of parents are generally transmitted to +their descendants--the progeny of trained pointers are almost sure to +point, even without being taught: if, therefore, all Frasers are either +rogues or fools, as this person seems to insinuate, it is little to be +wondered at, their parents or grandparents having been in the training- +school of old Fraser! But enough of the old tyrant and his slaves. +Belle, prepare tea this moment, or dread my anger. I have not a gold- +headed cane like old Fraser of Lovat, but I have, what some people would +dread much more, an Armenian rune-stick." + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +Fresh Arrivals--Pitching the Tent--Certificated Wife--High-flying +Notions. + +On the following morning, as I was about to leave my tent, I heard the +voice of Belle at the door, exclaiming, "Sleepest thou, or wakest thou?" +"I was never more awake in my life," said I, going out. "What is the +matter?" "He of the horse-shoe," said she, "Jasper, of whom I have heard +you talk, is above there on the field with all his people; I went out +about a quarter of an hour ago to fill the kettle at the spring, and saw +them arriving." "It is well," said I; "have you any objection to asking +him and his wife to breakfast?" "You can do as you please," said she; "I +have cups enough, and have no objection to their company." "We are the +first occupiers of the ground," said I, "and, being so, should consider +ourselves in the light of hosts, and do our best to practise the duties +of hospitality." "How fond you are of using that word," said Belle; "if +you wish to invite the man and his wife, do so, without more ado; +remember, however, that I have not cups enough, nor indeed tea enough, +for the whole company." Thereupon hurrying up the ascent, I presently +found myself outside the dingle. It was as usual a brilliant morning, +the dewy blades of the rye-grass which covered the plain sparkled +brightly in the beams of the sun, which had probably been about two hours +above the horizon. A rather numerous body of my ancient friends and +allies occupied the ground in the vicinity of the mouth of the dingle. +About five yards on the right I perceived Mr. Petulengro busily employed +in erecting his tent; he held in his hand an iron bar, sharp at the +bottom, with a kind of arm projecting from the top for the purpose of +supporting a kettle or cauldron over the fire, and which is called in the +Romanian language "Kekauviskoe saster." With the sharp end of this Mr. +Petulengro was making holes in the earth, at about twenty inches distant +from each other, into which he inserted certain long rods with a +considerable bend towards the top, which constituted no less than the +timber of the tent, and the supporters of the canvas. Mrs. Petulengro, +and a female with a crutch in her hand, whom I recognised as Mrs. Chikno, +sat near him on the ground, whilst two or three children, from six to ten +years old, who composed the young family of Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro, were +playing about. + +"Here we are, brother," said Mr. Petulengro, as he drove the sharp end of +the bar into the ground; "here we are, and plenty of us--Bute dosta +Romany chals." + +"I am glad to see you all," said I; "and particularly you, madam," said +I, making a bow to Mrs. Petulengro; "and you also, madam," taking off my +hat to Mrs. Chikno. + +"Good-day to you, sir," said Mrs. Petulengro; "you look, as usual, +charmingly, and speak so, too; you have not forgot your manners." + +"It is not all gold that glitters," said Mrs. Chikno. "However, good- +morrow to you, young rye." + +"I do not see Tawno," said I, looking around; "where is he?" + +"Where, indeed!" said Mrs. Chikno; "I don't know; he who countenances him +in the roving line can best answer." + +"He will be here anon," said Mr. Petulengro; "he has merely ridden down a +by-road to show a farmer a two-year-old colt; she heard me give him +directions, but she can't be satisfied." + +"I can't indeed," said Mrs. Chikno. + +"And why not, sister?" + +"Because I place no confidence in your words, brother; as I said before, +you countenances him." + +"Well," said I, "I know nothing of your private concerns; I am come on an +errand. Isopel Berners, down in the dell there, requests the pleasure of +Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro's company at breakfast. She will be happy also +to see you, madam," said I, addressing Mrs. Chikno. + +"Is that young female your wife, young man?" said Mrs. Chikno. + +"My wife?" said I. + +"Yes, young man; your wife, your lawful certificated wife?" + +"No," said I; "she is not my wife." + +"Then I will not visit with her," said Mrs. Chikno; "I countenance +nothing in the roving line." + +"What do you mean by the roving line?" I demanded. + +"What do I mean by the roving line? Why, by it I mean such conduct as is +not tatcheno. When ryes and rawnies live together in dingles, without +being certificated, I call such behaviour being tolerably deep in the +roving line, everything savouring of which I am determined not to +sanctify. I have suffered too much by my own certificated husband's +outbreaks in that line to afford anything of the kind the slightest +shadow of countenance." + +"It is hard that people may not live in dingles together without being +suspected of doing wrong," said I. + +"So it is," said Mrs. Petulengro, interposing; "and, to tell you the +truth, I am altogether surprised at the illiberality of my sister's +remarks. I have often heard say, that it is in good company--and I have +kept good company in my time--that suspicion is king's evidence of a +narrow and uncultivated mind; on which account I am suspicious of nobody, +not even of my own husband, whom some people would think I have a right +to be suspicious of, seeing that on his account I once refused a lord; +but ask him whether I am suspicious of him, and whether I seek to keep +him close tied to my apron-string; he will tell you nothing of the kind; +but that, on the contrary, I always allows him an agreeable latitude, +permitting him to go where he pleases, and to converse with any one to +whose manner of speaking he may take a fancy. But I have had the +advantage of keeping good company, and therefore--" + +"Meklis," said Mrs. Chikno, "pray drop all that, sister; I believe I have +kept as good company as yourself; and with respect to that offer with +which you frequently fatigue those who keeps company with you, I believe, +after all, it was something in the roving and uncertificated line." + +"In whatever line it was," said Mrs. Petulengro, "the offer was a good +one. The young duke--for he was not only a lord, but a duke too--offered +to keep me a fine carriage, and to make me his second wife; for it is +true that he had another who was old and stout, though mighty rich, and +highly good-natured; so much so, indeed, that the young lord assured me +that she would have no manner of objection to the arrangement; more +especially if I would consent to live in the same house with her, being +fond of young and cheerful society. So you see--" + +"Yes, yes," said Mrs. Chikno, "I see, what I before thought, that it was +altogether in the uncertificated line." + +"Meklis," said Mrs. Petulengro; "I use your own word, madam, which is +Romany: for my own part, I am not fond of using Romany words, unless I +can hope to pass them off for French, which I cannot in the present +company. I heartily wish that there was no such language, and do my best +to keep it away from my children, lest the frequent use of it should +altogether confirm them in low and vulgar habits. I have four children, +madam, but--" + +"I suppose by talking of your four children you wish to check me for +having none," said Mrs. Chikno, bursting into tears; "if I have no +children, sister, it is no fault of mine, it is--but why do I call you +sister?" said she, angrily; "you are no sister of mine, you are a grasni, +a regular mare--a pretty sister, indeed, ashamed of your own language. I +remember well that by your high-flying notions you drove your own +mother--" + +"We will drop it," said Mrs. Petulengro; "I do not wish to raise my +voice, and to make myself ridiculous. Young gentleman," said she, "pray +present my compliments to Miss Isopel Berners, and inform her that I am +very sorry that I cannot accept her polite invitation. I am just +arrived, and have some slight domestic matters to see to--amongst others, +to wash my children's faces; but that in the course of the forenoon, when +I have attended to what I have to do, and have dressed myself, I hope to +do myself the honour of paying her a regular visit; you will tell her +that, with my compliments. With respect to my husband he can answer for +himself, as I, not being of a jealous disposition, never interferes with +his matters." + +"And tell Miss Berners," said Mr. Petulengro, "that I shall be happy to +wait upon her in company with my wife as soon as we are regularly +settled: at present I have much on my hands, having not only to pitch my +own tent, but this here jealous woman's, whose husband is absent on my +business." + +Thereupon I returned to the dingle, and, without saying anything about +Mrs. Chikno's observations, communicated to Isopel the messages of Mr. +and Mrs. Petulengro; Isopel made no other reply than by replacing in her +coffer two additional cups and saucers, which, in expectation of company, +she had placed upon the board. The kettle was by this time boiling. We +sat down, and, as we breakfasted, I gave Isopel Berners another lesson in +the Armenian language. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +The Promised Visit--Roman Fashion--Wizard and Witch--Catching at +Words--The Two Females--Dressing of Hair--The New Roads--Belle's Altered +Appearance--Herself Again. + +About mid-day Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro came to the dingle to pay the +promised visit. Belle, at the time of their arrival, was in her tent, +but I was at the fire-place, engaged in hammering part of the outer-tire, +or defence, which had come off from one of the wheels of my vehicle. On +perceiving them I forthwith went to receive them. Mr. Petulengro was +dressed in Roman fashion, with a somewhat smartly-cut sporting-coat, the +buttons of which were half-crowns--and a waistcoat, scarlet and black, +the buttons of which were spaded half-guineas; his breeches were of a +stuff half velveteen, half corduroy, the cords exceedingly broad. He had +leggings of buff cloth, furred at the bottom; and upon his feet were +highlows. Under his left arm was a long black whalebone riding-whip, +with a red lash, and an immense silver knob. Upon his head was a hat +with a high peak, somewhat of the kind which the Spaniards call _calane_, +so much in favour with the bravos of Seville and Madrid. Now, when I +have added that Mr. Petulengro had on a very fine white holland shirt, I +think I have described his array. Mrs. Petulengro--I beg pardon for not +having spoken of her first--was also arrayed very much in the Roman +fashion. Her hair, which was exceedingly black and lustrous, fell in +braids on either side of her head. In her ears were rings, with long +drops of gold. Round her neck was a string of what seemed very much like +very large pearls, somewhat tarnished, however, and apparently of +considerable antiquity. "Here we are, brother," said Mr. Petulengro; +"here we are, come to see you--wizard and witch, witch and wizard:-- + + "'There's a chovahanee, and a chovahano, + The nav se len is Petulengro.'" + +"Hold your tongue, sir," said Mrs. Petulengro; "you make me ashamed of +you with your vulgar ditties. We are come a visiting now, and everything +low should be left behind." + +"True," said Mr. Petulengro; "why bring what's low to the dingle, which +is low enough already?" + +"What, are you a catcher at words?" said I. "I thought that catching at +words had been confined to the pothouse farmers and village witty +bodies." + +"All fools," said Mrs. Petulengro, "catch at words, and very naturally, +as by so doing they hope to prevent the possibility of rational +conversation. Catching at words confined to pothouse farmers, and +village witty bodies! No, not to Jasper Petulengro. Listen for an hour +or two to the discourse of a set they call newspaper editors, and if you +don't go out and eat grass, as a dog does when he is sick, I am no female +woman. The young lord whose hand I refused when I took up with wise +Jasper, once brought two of them to my mother's tan, when hankering after +my company; they did nothing but carp at each other's words, and a pretty +hand they made of it. Ill-favoured dogs they were; and their attempts at +what they called wit almost as unfortunate as their countenances." + +"Well," said I, "madam, we will drop all catchings and carpings for the +present. Pray take your seat on this stool, whilst I go and announce to +Miss Isopel Berners your arrival." + +Thereupon I went to Belle's habitation, and informed her that Mr. and +Mrs. Petulengro had paid us a visit of ceremony, and were awaiting her at +the fire-place. "Pray go and tell them that I am busy," said Belle, who +was engaged with her needle. "I do not feel disposed to take part in any +such nonsense." "I shall do no such thing," said I; "and I insist upon +your coming forthwith, and showing proper courtesy to your visitors. If +you do not, their feelings will be hurt, and you are aware that I cannot +bear that people's feelings should be outraged. Come this moment, or--" +"Or what?" said Belle, half smiling. "I was about to say something in +Armenian," said I. "Well," said Belle, laying down her work, "I will +come." "Stay," said I; "your hair is hanging about your ears, and your +dress is in disorder; you had better stay a minute or two to prepare +yourself to appear before your visitors, who have come in their very best +attire." "No," said Belle, "I will make no alteration in my appearance; +you told me to come this moment, and you shall be obeyed." So Belle and +I advanced towards our guests. As we drew nigh Mr. Petulengro took off +his hat, and made a profound obeisance to Belle, whilst Mrs. Petulengro +rose from the stool, and made a profound curtsey. Belle, who had flung +her hair back over her shoulders, returned their salutations by bending +her head, and after slightly glancing at Mr. Petulengro, fixed her large +blue eyes full upon his wife. Both these females were very handsome--but +how unlike! Belle fair, with blue eyes and flaxen hair; Mrs. Petulengro +with olive complexion, eyes black, and hair dark--as dark as could be. +Belle, in demeanour calm and proud; the gypsy graceful, but full of +movement and agitation. And then how different were those two in +stature! The head of the Romany rawnie scarcely ascended to the breast +of Isopel Berners. I could see that Mrs. Petulengro gazed on Belle with +unmixed admiration; so did her husband. "Well," said the latter, "one +thing I will say, which is, that there is only one on earth worthy to +stand up in front of this she, and that is the beauty of the world, as +far as man flesh is concerned, Tawno Chikno; what a pity he did not come +down!" + +"Tawno Chikno," said Mrs. Petulengro, flaring up; "a pretty fellow he to +stand up in front of this gentlewoman, a pity he didn't come, quotha? not +at all, the fellow is a sneak, afraid of his wife. He stand up against +this rawnie! why, the look she has given me would knock the fellow down." + +"It is easier to knock him down with a look than with a fist," said Mr. +Petulengro; "that is, if the look comes from a woman: not that I am +disposed to doubt that this female gentlewoman is able to knock him down +either one way or the other. I have heard of her often enough, and have +seen her once or twice, though not so near as now. Well, ma'am, my wife +and I are come to pay our respects to you; we are both glad to find that +you have left off keeping company with Flaming Bosville, and have taken +up with my pal; he is not very handsome, but a better--" + +"I take up with your pal, as you call him! you had better mind what you +say," said Isopel Berners, "I take up with nobody." + +"I merely mean taking up your quarters with him," said Mr. Petulengro; +"and I was only about to say a better fellow-lodger you cannot have, or a +more instructive, especially if you have a desire to be inoculated with +tongues, as he calls them. I wonder whether you and he have had any +tongue-work already." + +"Have you and your wife anything particular to say? if you have nothing +but this kind of conversation I must leave you, as I am going to make a +journey this afternoon, and should be getting ready." + +"You must excuse my husband, madam," said Mrs. Petulengro, "he is not +overburdened with understanding, and has said but one word of sense since +he has been here, which was that we came to pay our respects to you. We +have dressed ourselves in our best Roman way, in order to do honour to +you; perhaps you do not like it; if so, I am sorry. I have no French +clothes, madam; if I had any, madam, I would have come in them, in order +to do you more honour." + +"I like to see you much better as you are," said Belle; "people should +keep to their own fashions, and yours is very pretty." + +"I am glad you are pleased to think it so, madam; it has been admired in +the great city; it created what they call a sensation; and some of the +great ladies, the court ladies, imitated it, else I should not appear in +it so often as I am accustomed; for I am not very fond of what is Roman, +having an imagination that what is Roman is ungenteel; in fact, I once +heard the wife of a rich citizen say that gypsies were vulgar creatures. +I should have taken her saying very much to heart, but for her improper +pronunciation; she could not pronounce her words, madam, which we +gypsies, as they call us, usually can, so I thought she was no very high +purchase. You are very beautiful, madam, though you are not dressed as I +could wish to see you, and your hair is hanging down in sad confusion; +allow me to assist you in arranging your hair, madam; I will dress it for +you in our fashion; I would fain see how your hair would look in our poor +gypsy fashion; pray allow me, madam?" and she took Belle by the hand. + +"I really can do no such thing," said Belle, withdrawing her hand; "I +thank you for coming to see me, but--" + +"Do allow me to officiate upon your hair, madam," said Mrs. Petulengro. +"I should esteem your allowing me a great mark of condescension. You are +very beautiful, madam, and I think you doubly so, because you are so +fair; I have a great esteem for persons with fair complexions and hair; I +have a less regard for people with dark hair and complexions, madam." + +"Then why did you turn off the lord, and take up with me?" said Mr. +Petulengro; "that same lord was fair enough all about him." + +"People do when they are young and silly what they sometimes repent of +when they are of riper years and understandings. I sometimes think that +had I not been something of a simpleton, I might at this time be a great +court lady. Now, madam," said she, again taking Belle by the hand, "do +oblige me by allowing me to plait your hair a little?" + +"I have really a good mind to be angry with you," said Belle, giving Mrs. +Petulengro a peculiar glance. + +"Do allow her to arrange your hair," said I; "she means no harm, and +wishes to do you honour; do oblige her and me too, for I should like to +see how your hair would look dressed in her fashion." + +"You hear what the young rye says?" said Mrs. Petulengro. "I am sure you +will oblige the young rye, if not myself. Many people would be willing +to oblige the young rye, if he would but ask them; but he is not in the +habit of asking favours. He has a nose of his own, which he keeps +tolerably exalted; he does not think small-beer of himself, madam; and +all the time I have been with him, I never heard him ask a favour before; +therefore, madam, I am sure you will oblige him. My sister Ursula would +be very willing to oblige him in many things, but he will not ask for +anything, except for such a favour as a word, which is a poor favour +after all. I don't mean for her word; perhaps he will some day ask you +for your word. If so--" + +"Why, here you are, after railing at me for catching at words, catching +at a word yourself," said Mr. Petulengro. + +"Hold your tongue, sir," said Mrs. Petulengro. "Don't interrupt me in my +discourse; if I caught at a word now, I am not in the habit of doing so. +I am no conceited body; no newspaper Neddy; no pothouse witty person. I +was about to say, madam, that if the young rye asks you at any time for +your word, you will do as you deem convenient; but I am sure you will +oblige him by allowing me to braid your hair." + +"I shall not do it to oblige him," said Belle; "the young rye, as you +call him, is nothing to me." + +"Well, then, to oblige me," said Mrs. Petulengro; "do allow me to become +your poor tire-woman." + +"It is great nonsense," said Belle, reddening; "however, as you came to +see me, and ask the matter as a particular favour to yourself--" + +"Thank you, madam," said Mrs. Petulengro, leading Belle to the stool; +"please to sit down here. Thank you; your hair is very beautiful, +madam," she continued, as she proceeded to braid Belle's hair; "so is +your countenance. Should you ever go to the great city, among the grand +folks, you would make a sensation, madam. I have made one myself, who am +dark; the chi she is kauley, which last word signifies black, which I am +not, though rather dark. There is no colour like white, madam; it's so +lasting, so genteel. Gentility will carry the day, madam, even with the +young rye. He will ask words of the black lass, but beg the word of the +fair." + +In the meantime Mr. Petulengro and myself entered into conversation. "Any +news stirring, Mr. Petulengro?" said I. "Have you heard anything of the +great religious movements?" + +"Plenty," said Mr. Petulengro; "all the religious people, more especially +the Evangelicals--those that go about distributing tracts--are very angry +about the fight between Gentleman Cooper and White-headed Bob, which they +say ought not to have been permitted to take place; and then they are +trying all they can to prevent the fight between the lion and the dogs, +which they say is a disgrace to a Christian country. Now I can't say +that I have any quarrel with the religious party and the Evangelicals; +they are always civil to me and mine, and frequently give us tracts, as +they call them, which neither I nor mine can read; but I cannot say that +I approve of any movements, religious or not, which have in aim to put +down all life and manly sport in this here country." + +"Anything else?" said I. + +"People are becoming vastly sharp," said Mr. Petulengro; "and I am told +that all the old-fashioned good-tempered constables are going to be set +aside, and a paid body of men to be established, who are not to permit a +tramper or vagabond on the roads of England;--and talking of roads, puts +me in mind of a strange story I heard two nights ago, whilst drinking +some beer at a public-house in company with my cousin Sylvester. I had +asked Tawno to go, but his wife would not let him. Just opposite me, +smoking their pipes, were a couple of men, something like engineers, and +they were talking of a wonderful invention which was to make a wonderful +alteration in England; inasmuch as it would set aside all the old roads, +which in a little time would be ploughed up, and sowed with corn, and +cause all England to be laid down with iron roads, on which people would +go thundering along in vehicles, pushed forward by fire and smoke. Now, +brother, when I heard this, I did not feel very comfortable; for I +thought to myself, what a queer place such a road would be to pitch one's +tent upon, and how impossible it would be for one's cattle to find a bite +of grass upon it; and I thought likewise of the danger to which one's +family would be exposed in being run over and severely scorched by these +same flying fiery vehicles; so I made bold to say, that I hoped such an +invention would never be countenanced, because it was likely to do a +great deal of harm. Whereupon, one of the men, giving me a glance, said, +without taking the pipe out of his mouth, that for his part, he sincerely +hoped that it would take effect; and if it did no other good than +stopping the rambles of gypsies, and other like scamps, it ought to be +encouraged. Well, brother, feeling myself insulted, I put my hand into +my pocket, in order to pull out money, intending to challenge him to +fight for a five-shilling stake, but merely found sixpence, having left +all my other money at the tent; which sixpence was just sufficient to pay +for the beer which Sylvester and myself were drinking, of whom I couldn't +hope to borrow anything--'poor as Sylvester' being a by-word amongst us. +So, not being able to back myself, I held my peace, and let the Gorgio +have it all his own way, who, after turning up his nose at me, went on +discoursing about the said invention, saying what a fund of profit it +would be to those who knew how to make use of it, and should have the +laying down of the new roads, and the shoeing of England with iron. And +after he had said this, and much more of the same kind, which I cannot +remember, he and his companion got up and walked away; and presently I +and Sylvester got up and walked to our camp; and there I lay down in my +tent by the side of my wife, where I had an ugly dream of having camped +upon an iron road; my tent being overturned by a flying vehicle; my +wife's leg injured; and all my affairs put into great confusion." + +"Now, madam," said Mrs. Petulengro, "I have braided your hair in our +fashion: you look very beautiful, madam; more beautiful, if possible, +than before." Belle now rose, and came forward with her tire-woman. Mr. +Petulengro was loud in his applause, but I said nothing, for I did not +think Belle was improved in appearance by having submitted to the +ministry of Mrs. Petulengro's hand. Nature never intended Belle to +appear as a gypsy; she had made her too proud and serious. A more proper +part for her was that of a heroine, a queenly heroine,--that of Theresa +of Hungary, for example; or, better still, that of Brynhilda the +Valkyrie, the beloved of Sigurd, the serpent-killer, who incurred the +curse of Odin, because, in the tumult of spears, she sided with the young +king, and doomed the old warrior to die, to whom Odin had promised +victory. + +Belle looked at me for a moment in silence; then turning to Mrs. +Petulengro, she said, "You have had your will with me; are you +satisfied?" "Quite so, madam," said Mrs. Petulengro, "and I hope you +will be so too, as soon as you have looked in the glass." "I have looked +in one already," said Belle; "and the glass does not flatter." "You mean +the face of the young rye," said Mrs. Petulengro; "never mind him, madam; +the young rye, though he knows a thing or two, is not a university, nor a +person of universal wisdom. I assure you, that you never looked so well +before; and I hope that, from this moment, you will wear your hair in +this way." "And who is to braid it in this way?" said Belle, smiling. +"I, madam," said Mrs. Petulengro; "I will braid it for you every morning, +if you will but be persuaded to join us. Do so, madam, and I think, if +you did, the young rye would do so too." "The young rye is nothing to +me, nor I to him," said Belle; "we have stayed some time together; but +our paths will soon be apart. Now, farewell, for I am about to take a +journey." "And you will go out with your hair as I have braided it," +said Mrs. Petulengro; "if you do, everybody will be in love with you." +"No," said Belle; "hitherto I have allowed you to do what you please, but +henceforth I shall have my own way. Come, come," said she, observing +that the gypsy was about to speak, "we have had enough of nonsense; +whenever I leave this hollow, it will be wearing my hair in my own +fashion." "Come, wife," said Mr. Petulengro; "we will no longer intrude +upon the rye and rawnie; there is such a thing as being troublesome." +Thereupon Mr. Petulengro and his wife took their leave, with many +salutations. "Then you are going?" said I, when Belle and I were left +alone. "Yes," said Belle; "I am going on a journey; my affairs compel +me." "But you will return again?" said I. "Yes," said Belle, "I shall +return once more." "Once more," said I; "what do you mean by once more? +The Petulengros will soon be gone, and will you abandon me in this +place?" "You were alone here," said Belle, "before I came, and I +suppose, found it agreeable, or you would not have stayed in it." "Yes," +said I, "that was before I knew you; but having lived with you here, I +should be very loth to live here without you." "Indeed," said Belle; "I +did not know that I was of so much consequence to you. Well, the day is +wearing away--I must go and harness Traveller to the cart." "I will do +that," said I, "or anything else you may wish me. Go and prepare +yourself; I will see after Traveller and the cart." Belle departed to +her tent, and I set about performing the task I had undertaken. In about +half-an-hour Belle again made her appearance--she was dressed neatly and +plainly. Her hair was no longer in the Roman fashion, in which Pakomovna +had plaited it, but was secured by a comb; she held a bonnet in her hand. +"Is there anything else I can do for you?" I demanded. "There are two or +three bundles by my tent, which you can put into the cart," said Belle. I +put the bundles into the cart, and then led Traveller and the cart up the +winding path to the mouth of the dingle, near which was Mr. Petulengro's +encampment. Belle followed. At the top, I delivered the reins into her +hands; we looked at each other stedfastly for some time. Belle then +departed, and I returned to the dingle, where, seating myself on my +stone, I remained for upwards of an hour in thought. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +The Festival--The Gypsy Song--Piramus of Rome--The Scotchman--Gypsy +Names. + +On the following day there was much feasting amongst the Romany chals of +Mr. Petulengro's party. Throughout the forenoon the Romany chies did +scarcely anything but cook flesh, and the flesh which they cooked was +swine's flesh. About two o'clock, the chals dividing themselves into +various parties, sat down and partook of the fare, which was partly +roasted, partly sodden. I dined that day with Mr. Petulengro and his +wife and family, Ursula, Mr. and Mrs. Chikno, and Sylvester and his two +children. Sylvester, it will be as well to say, was a widower, and had +consequently no one to cook his victuals for him, supposing he had any, +which was not always the case, Sylvester's affairs being seldom in a +prosperous state. He was noted for his bad success in trafficking, +notwithstanding the many hints which he received from Jasper, under whose +protection he had placed himself, even as Tawno Chikno had done, who +himself, as the reader has heard on a former occasion, was anything but a +wealthy subject, though he was at all times better off than Sylvester, +the Lazarus of the Romany tribe. + +All our party ate with a good appetite, except myself, who, feeling +rather melancholy that day, had little desire to eat. I did not, like +the others, partake of the pork, but got my dinner entirely off the body +of a squirrel which had been shot the day before by a chal of the name of +Piramus, who, besides being a good shot, was celebrated for his skill in +playing on the fiddle. During the dinner a horn filled with ale passed +frequently around; I drank of it more than once, and felt inspirited by +the draughts. The repast concluded, Sylvester and his children departed +to their tent, and Mr. Petulengro, Tawno, and myself, getting up, went +and lay down under a shady hedge, where Mr. Petulengro, lighting his +pipe, began to smoke, and where Tawno presently fell asleep. I was about +to fall asleep also, when I heard the sound of music and song. Piramus +was playing on the fiddle, whilst Mrs. Chikno, who had a voice of her +own, was singing in tones sharp enough, but of great power, a gypsy +song:-- + + + +POISONING THE PORKER +BY MRS. CHIKNO + + + To mande shoon ye Romany chals + Who besh in the pus about the yag, + I'll pen how we drab the baulo, + I'll pen how we drab the baulo. + + We jaws to the drab-engro ker, + Trin horsworth there of drab we lels, + And when to the swety back we wels + We pens we'll drab the baulo, + We'll have a drab at a baulo. + + And then we kairs the drab opre, + And then we jaws to the farming ker, + To mang a beti habben, + A beti poggado habben. + + A rinkeno baulo there we dick, + And then we pens in Romano jib; + Wust lis odoi opre ye chick, + And the baulo he will lel lis, + The baulo he will lel lis. + + Coliko, coliko saulo we + Apopli to the farming ker + Will wel and mang him mullo, + Will wel and mang his truppo. + + And so we kairs, and so we kairs; + The baulo in the rarde mers; + We mang him on the saulo, + And rig to the tan the baulo. + + And then we toves the wendror well + Till sore the wendror iuziou se, + Till kekkeno drab's adrey lis, + Till drab there's kek adrey lis. + + And then his truppo well we hatch, + Kin levinor at the kitchema, + And have a kosko habben, + A kosko Romano habben. + + The boshom engro kils, he kils, + The tawnie juva gils, she gils + A puro Romano gillie, + Now shoon the Romano gillie. + +Which song I had translated in the following manner, in my younger days, +for a lady's album: + + Listen to me ye Roman lads, who are seated in the straw about the + fire, and I will tell how we poison the porker, I will tell how we + poison the porker. + + We go to the house of the poison-monger, where we buy three pennies' + worth of bane, and when we return to our people we say, we will poison + the porker; we will try and poison the porker. + + We then make up the poison, and then we take our way to the house of + the farmer, as if to beg a bit of victuals, a little broken victuals. + + We see a jolly porker, and then we say in Roman language, "Fling the + bane yonder amongst the dirt, and the porker soon will find it, the + porker soon will find it." + + Early on the morrow, we will return to the farm-house, and beg the + dead porker, the body of the dead porker. + + And so we do, even so we do; the porker dieth during the night; on the + morrow we beg the porker, and carry to the tent the porker. + + And then we wash the inside well, till all the inside is perfectly + clean, till there's no bane within it, not a poison grain within it. + + And then we roast the body well, send for ale to the alehouse, and + have a merry banquet, a merry Roman banquet. + + The fellow with the fiddle plays, he plays; the little lassie sings, + she sings an ancient Roman ditty; now hear the Roman ditty. + + + +SONG OF THE BROKEN CHASTITY +BY URSULA + + + Penn'd the Romany chi ke laki dye + "Miry dearie dye mi shom cambri!" + "And coin kerdo tute cambri, + Miry dearie chi, miry Romany chi?" + "O miry dye a boro rye, + A bovalo rye, a gorgiko rye, + Sos kistur pre a pellengo grye, + 'Twas yov sos kerdo man cambri." + "Tu tawnie vassavie lubbeny, + Tu chal from miry tan abri; + Had a Romany chal kair'd tute cambri, + Then I had penn'd ke tute chie, + But tu shan a vassavie lubbeny + With gorgikie rat to be cambri." + +"There's some kernel in those songs, brother," said Mr. Petulengro, when +the songs and music were over. + +"Yes," said I; "they are certainly very remarkable songs. I say, Jasper, +I hope you have not been drabbing baulor lately." + +"And suppose we have, brother, what then?" + +"Why, it is a very dangerous practice, to say nothing of the wickedness +of it." + +"Necessity has no law, brother." + +"That is true," said I; "I have always said so, but you are not +necessitous, and should not drab baulor." + +"And who told you we had been drabbing baulor?" + +"Why, you have had a banquet of pork, and after the banquet, Mrs. Chikno +sang a song about drabbing baulor, so I naturally thought you might have +lately been engaged in such a thing." + +"Brother, you occasionally utter a word or two of common sense. It was +natural for you to suppose, after seeing that dinner of pork, and hearing +that song, that we had been drabbing baulor; I will now tell you that we +have not been doing so. What have you to say to that?" + +"That I am very glad of it." + +"Had you tasted that pork, brother, you would have found that it was +sweet and tasty, which balluva that is drabbed can hardly be expected to +be. We have no reason to drab baulor at present, we have money and +credit; but necessity has no law. Our forefathers occasionally drabbed +baulor; some of our people may still do such a thing, but only from +compulsion." + +"I see," said I; "and at your merry meetings you sing songs upon the +compulsatory deeds of your people, alias, their villainous actions; and, +after all, what would the stirring poetry of any nation be, but for its +compulsatory deeds? Look at the poetry of Scotland, the heroic part, +founded almost entirely on the villainous deeds of the Scotch nation; cow- +stealing, for example, which is very little better than drabbing baulor; +whilst the softer part is mostly about the slips of its females among the +broom, so that no upholder of Scotch poetry could censure Ursula's song +as indelicate, even if he understood it. What do you think, Jasper?" + +"I think, brother, as I before said, that occasionally you utter a word +of common sense; you were talking of the Scotch, brother; what do you +think of a Scotchman finding fault with Romany!" + +"A Scotchman finding fault with Romany, Jasper! Oh dear, but you joke, +the thing could never be." + +"Yes, and at Piramus's fiddle; what do you think of a Scotchman turning +up his nose at Piramus's fiddle?" + +"A Scotchman turning up his nose at Piramus's fiddle! nonsense, Jasper." + +"Do you know what I most dislike, brother?" + +"I do not, unless it be the constable, Jasper." + +"It is not the constable; it's a beggar on horseback, brother." + +"What do you mean by a beggar on horseback?" + +"Why, a scamp, brother, raised above his proper place, who takes every +opportunity of giving himself fine airs. About a week ago, my people and +myself camped on a green by a plantation in the neighbourhood of a great +house. In the evening we were making merry, the girls were dancing, +while Piramus was playing on the fiddle a tune of his own composing, to +which he has given his own name, Piramus of Rome, and which is much +celebrated amongst our people, and from which I have been told that one +of the grand gorgio composers, who once heard it, has taken several +hints. So, as we were making merry, a great many grand people, lords and +ladies, I believe, came from the great house, and looked on, as the girls +danced to the tune of Piramus of Rome, and seemed much pleased; and when +the girls had left off dancing, and Piramus playing, the ladies wanted to +have their fortunes told; so I bade Mikailia Chikno, who can tell a +fortune when she pleases better than any one else, tell them a fortune, +and she, being in a good mind, told them a fortune which pleased them +very much. So, after they had heard their fortunes, one of them asked if +any of our women could sing; and I told them several could, more +particularly Leviathan--you know Leviathan, she is not here now, but some +miles distant, she is our best singer, Ursula coming next. So the lady +said she should like to hear Leviathan sing, whereupon Leviathan sang the +Gudlo pesham, and Piramus played the tune of the same name, which as you +know, means the honeycomb, the song and the tune being well entitled to +the name, being wonderfully sweet. Well, everybody present seemed mighty +well pleased with the song and music, with the exception of one person, a +carroty-haired Scotch body; how he came there I don't know, but there he +was; and, coming forward, he began in Scotch as broad as a barn-door to +find fault with the music and the song, saying, that he had never heard +viler stuff than either. Well, brother, out of consideration for the +civil gentry with whom the fellow had come, I held my peace for a long +time, and in order to get the subject changed, I said to Mikailia in +Romany, You have told the ladies their fortunes, now tell the gentlemen +theirs, quick, quick,--pen lende dukkerin. Well, brother, the Scotchman, +I suppose, thinking I was speaking ill of him, fell into a greater +passion than before, and catching hold of the word dukkerin--'Dukkerin,' +said he, 'what's dukkerin?' 'Dukkerin,' said I, 'is fortune, a man or +woman's destiny; don't you like the word?' 'Word! d'ye ca' that a word? +a bonnie word,' said he. 'Perhaps, you'll tell us what it is in Scotch,' +said I, 'in order that we may improve our language by a Scotch word; a +pal of mine has told me that we have taken a great many words from +foreign lingos.' 'Why, then, if that be the case, fellow, I will tell +you; it is e'en "spaeing,"' said he, very seriously. 'Well, then,' said +I, 'I'll keep my own word, which is much the prettiest--spaeing! spaeing! +why, I should be ashamed to make use of the word, it sounds so much like +a certain other word;' and then I made a face as if I were unwell. +'Perhaps it's Scotch also for that?' 'What do ye mean by speaking in +that guise to a gentleman?' said he; 'you insolent vagabond, without a +name or a country.' 'There you are mistaken,' said I; 'my country is +Egypt, but we 'Gyptians, like you Scotch, are rather fond of travelling; +and as for name--my name is Jasper Petulengro, perhaps you have a better; +what is it?' 'Sandy Macraw.' At that, brother, the gentlemen burst into +a roar of laughter, and all the ladies tittered." + +"You were rather severe on the Scotchman, Jasper." + +"Not at all, brother, and suppose I were, he began first; I am the +civilest man in the world, and never interfere with anybody, who lets me +and mine alone. He finds fault with Romany, forsooth! why, L-d A'mighty, +what's Scotch? He doesn't like our songs; what are his own? I +understand them as little as he mine; I have heard one or two of them, +and pretty rubbish they seemed. But the best of the joke is, the +fellow's finding fault with Piramus's fiddle--a chap from the land of +bagpipes finding fault with Piramus's fiddle! Why, I'll back that fiddle +against all the bagpipes in Scotland, and Piramus against all the +bagpipers; for though Piramus weighs but ten stone, he shall flog a +Scotchman of twenty." + +"Scotchmen are never so fat as that," said I, "unless indeed, they have +been a long time pensioners of England. I say, Jasper, what remarkable +names your people have!" + +"And what pretty names, brother; there's my own, for example, Jasper; +then there's Ambrose and Sylvester; then there's Culvato, which signifies +Claude; then there's Piramus--that's a nice name, brother." + +"Then there's your wife's name, Pakomovna; then there's Ursula and +Morella." + +"Then, brother, there's Ercilla." + +"Ercilla! the name of the great poet of Spain, how wonderful; then +Leviathan." + +"The name of a ship, brother; Leviathan was named after a ship, so don't +make a wonder out of her. But there's Sanpriel and Synfye." + +"Ay, and Clementina and Lavinia, Camillia and Lydia, Curlanda and +Orlanda; wherever did they get those names?" + +"Where did my wife get her necklace, brother?" + +"She knows best, Jasper. I hope--" + +"Come, no hoping! She got it from her grandmother, who died at the age +of a hundred and three, and sleeps in Coggeshall churchyard. She got it +from her mother, who also died very old, and who could give no other +account of it than that it had been in the family time out of mind." + +"Whence could they have got it?" + +"Why, perhaps where they got their names, brother. A gentleman, who had +travelled much, once told me that he had seen the sister of it about the +neck of an Indian queen." + +"Some of your names, Jasper, appear to be church names; your own, for +example, and Ambrose, and Sylvester; perhaps you got them from the +Papists, in the times of Popery; but where did you get such a name as +Piramus, a name of Grecian romance? Then some of them appear to be +Slavonian; for example, Mikailia and Pakomovna. I don't know much of +Slavonian; but--" + +"What is Slavonian, brother?" + +"The family name of certain nations, the principal of which is the +Russian, and from which the word slave is originally derived. You have +heard of the Russians, Jasper?" + +"Yes, brother; and seen some. I saw their crallis at the time of the +peace; he was not a bad-looking man for a Russian." + +"By the bye, Jasper, I'm half inclined to think that crallis is a Slavish +word. I saw something like it in a lil called 'Voltaire's Life of +Charles.' How you should have come by such names and words is to me +incomprehensible." + +"You seem posed, brother." + +"I really know very little about you, Jasper." + +"Very little indeed, brother. We know very little about ourselves; and +you know nothing, save what we have told you; and we have now and then +told you things about us which are not exactly true, simply to make a +fool of you, brother. You will say that was wrong; perhaps it was. Well, +Sunday will be here in a day or two, when we will go to church, where +possibly we shall hear a sermon on the disastrous consequences of lying." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +The Church--The Aristocratical Pew--Days of Yore--The Clergyman--"In What +Would a Man be Profited?" + +When two days had passed, Sunday came; I breakfasted by myself in the +solitary dingle; and then, having set things a little to rights, I +ascended to Mr. Petulengro's encampment. I could hear church-bells +ringing around in the distance, appearing to say, "Come to church, come +to church," as clearly as it was possible for church-bells to say. I +found Mr. Petulengro seated by the door of his tent, smoking his pipe, in +rather an ungenteel undress. "Well, Jasper," said I, "are you ready to +go to church? for if you are, I am ready to accompany you." "I am not +ready, brother," said Mr. Petulengro, "nor is my wife; the church, too, +to which we shall go is three miles off; so it is of no use to think of +going there this morning, as the service would be three-quarters over +before we got there; if, however, you are disposed to go in the +afternoon, we are your people." Thereupon I returned to my dingle, where +I passed several hours in conning the Welsh Bible, which the preacher, +Peter Williams, had given me. + +At last I gave over reading, took a slight refreshment, and was about to +emerge from the dingle, when I heard the voice of Mr. Petulengro calling +me. I went up again to the encampment, where I found Mr. Petulengro, his +wife, and Tawno Chikno, ready to proceed to church. Mr. and Mrs. +Petulengro were dressed in Roman fashion, though not in the full-blown +manner in which they had paid their visit to Isopel and myself. Tawno +had on a clean white slop, with a nearly new black beaver, with very +broad rims, and the nap exceedingly long. As for myself, I was dressed +in much the same manner as that in which I departed from London, having +on, in honour of the day, a shirt perfectly clean, having washed one on +purpose for the occasion, with my own hands, the day before, in the pond +of tepid water in which the newts and defts were in the habit of taking +their pleasure. We proceeded for upwards of a mile, by footpaths through +meadows and corn-fields; we crossed various stiles; at last, passing over +one, we found ourselves in a road, wending along which for a considerable +distance, we at last came in sight of a church, the bells of which had +been tolling distinctly in our ears for some time; before, however, we +reached the church-yard, the bells had ceased their melody. It was +surrounded by lofty beech-trees of brilliant green foliage. We entered +the gate, Mrs. Petulengro leading the way, and proceeded to a small door +near the east end of the church. As we advanced, the sound of singing +within the church rose upon our ears. Arrived at the small door, Mrs. +Petulengro opened it and entered, followed by Tawno Chikno. I myself +went last of all, following Mr. Petulengro, who, before I entered, turned +round, and, with a significant nod, advised me to take care how I +behaved. The part of the church which we had entered was the chancel; on +one side stood a number of venerable old men--probably the neighbouring +poor--and on the other a number of poor girls belonging to the village +school, dressed in white gowns and straw bonnets, whom two elegant but +simply dressed young women were superintending. Every voice seemed to be +united in singing a certain anthem, which, notwithstanding it was written +neither by Tate nor Brady, contains some of the sublimest words which +were ever put together, not the worst of which are those which burst on +our ears as we entered: + + "Every eye shall now behold Him, + Robed in dreadful majesty; + Those who set at nought and sold Him, + Pierced and nailed Him to the tree, + Deeply wailing, + Shall the true Messiah see." + +Still following Mrs. Petulengro, we proceeded down the chancel and along +the aisle; notwithstanding the singing, I could distinctly hear as we +passed many a voice whispering, "Here come the gypsies! here come the +gypsies!" I felt rather embarrassed, with a somewhat awkward doubt as to +where we were to sit; none of the occupiers of the pews, who appeared to +consist almost entirely of farmers, with their wives, sons, and +daughters, opened a door to admit us. Mrs. Petulengro, however, appeared +to feel not the least embarrassment, but tripped along the aisle with the +greatest nonchalance. We passed under the pulpit, in which stood the +clergyman in his white surplice, and reached the middle of the church, +where we were confronted by the sexton dressed in long blue coat, and +holding in his hand a wand. This functionary motioned towards the lower +end of the church, where were certain benches, partly occupied by poor +people and boys. Mrs. Petulengro, however, with a toss of her head, +directed her course to a magnificent pew, which was unoccupied, which she +opened and entered, followed closely by Tawno Chikno, Mr. Petulengro, and +myself. The sexton did not appear by any means to approve of the +arrangement, and as I stood next the door, laid his finger on my arm, as +if to intimate that myself and companions must quit our aristocratical +location. I said nothing, but directed my eyes to the clergyman, who +uttered a short and expressive cough; the sexton looked at him for a +moment, and then, bowing his head, closed the door--in a moment more the +music ceased. I took up a prayer-book, on which was engraved an earl's +coronet. The clergyman uttered, "I will arise, and go to my father." +England's sublime liturgy had commenced. + +Oh, what feelings came over me on finding myself again in an edifice +devoted to the religion of my country! I had not been in such a place I +cannot tell for how long--certainly not for years; and now I had found my +way there again, it appeared as if I had fallen asleep in the pew of the +old church of pretty D---. I had occasionally done so when a child, and +had suddenly woke up. Yes, surely I had been asleep and had woke up; but +no! alas, no! I had not been asleep--at least not in the old church--if +I had been asleep I had been walking in my sleep, struggling, striving, +learning, and unlearning in my sleep. Years had rolled away whilst I had +been asleep--ripe fruit had fallen, green fruit had come on whilst I had +been asleep--how circumstances had altered, and above all myself, whilst +I had been asleep. No, I had not been asleep in the old church! I was +in a pew, it is true, but not the pew of black leather, in which I +sometimes fell asleep in days of yore, but in a strange pew; and then my +companions, they were no longer those of days of yore. I was no longer +with my respectable father and mother, and my dear brother, but with the +gypsy cral and his wife, and the gigantic Tawno, the Antinous of the +dusky people. And what was I myself? No longer an innocent child, but a +moody man, bearing in my face, as I knew well, the marks of my strivings +and strugglings, of what I had learnt and unlearnt; nevertheless, the +general aspect of things brought to my mind what I had felt and seen of +yore. There was difference enough, it is true, but still there was a +similarity--at least I thought so--the church, the clergyman, and the +clerk, differing in many respects from those of pretty D---, put me +strangely in mind of them; and then the words!--by the bye, was it not +the magic of the words which brought the dear enchanting past so +powerfully before the mind of Lavengro? for the words were the same +sonorous words of high import which had first made an impression on his +childish ear in the old church of pretty D---. + +The liturgy was now over, during the reading of which my companions +behaved in a most unexceptionable manner, sitting down and rising up when +other people sat down and rose, and holding in their hands prayer-books +which they found in the pew, into which they stared intently, though I +observed that, with the exception of Mrs. Petulengro, who knew how to +read a little, they held the books by the top, and not the bottom, as is +the usual way. The clergyman now ascended the pulpit, arrayed in his +black gown. The congregation composed themselves to attention, as did +also my companions, who fixed their eyes upon the clergyman with a +certain strange immovable stare, which I believe to be peculiar to their +race. The clergyman gave out his text, and began to preach. He was a +tall, gentlemanly man, seemingly between fifty and sixty, with greyish +hair; his features were very handsome, but with a somewhat melancholy +cast: the tones of his voice were rich and noble, but also with somewhat +of melancholy in them. The text which he gave out was the following one, +"In what would a man be profited, provided he gained the whole world, and +lost his own soul?" + +And on this text the clergyman preached long and well: he did not read +his sermon, but spoke it extempore; his doing so rather surprised and +offended me at first; I was not used to such a style of preaching in a +church devoted to the religion of my country. I compared it within my +mind with the style of preaching used by the high-church rector in the +old church of pretty D---, and I thought to myself it was very different, +and being very different I did not like it, and I thought to myself how +scandalized the people of D--- would have been had they heard it, and I +figured to myself how indignant the high-church clerk would have been had +any clergyman got up in the church of D--- and preached in such a manner. +Did it not savour strongly of dissent, methodism, and similar low stuff? +Surely it did; why, the Methodist I had heard preach on the heath above +the old city, preached in the same manner--at least he preached +extempore; ay, and something like the present clergyman; for the +Methodist spoke very zealously and with great feeling, and so did the +present clergyman; so I, of course, felt rather offended with the +clergyman for speaking with zeal and feeling. However, long before the +sermon was over I forgot the offence which I had taken, and listened to +the sermon with much admiration, for the eloquence and powerful reasoning +with which it abounded. + +Oh, how eloquent he was, when he talked of the inestimable value of a +man's soul, which he said endured for ever, whilst his body, as every one +knew, lasted at most for a very contemptible period of time; and how +forcibly he reasoned on the folly of a man, who, for the sake of gaining +the whole world--a thing, he said, which provided he gained he could only +possess for a part of the time, during which his perishable body +existed--should lose his soul, that is, cause that precious deathless +portion of him to suffer indescribable misery time without end. + +There was one part of his sermon which struck me in a very particular +manner: he said, "That there were some people who gained something in +return for their souls; if they did not get the whole world, they got a +part of it--lands, wealth, honour, or renown; mere trifles, he allowed, +in comparison with the value of a man's soul, which is destined either to +enjoy delight, or suffer tribulation time without end; but which, in the +eyes of the worldly, had a certain value, and which afforded a certain +pleasure and satisfaction. But there were also others who lost their +souls, and got nothing for them--neither lands, wealth, renown, nor +consideration, who were poor outcasts, and despised by everybody. My +friends," he added, "if the man is a fool who barters his soul for the +whole world, what a fool he must be who barters his soul for nothing." + +The eyes of the clergyman, as he uttered these words, wandered around the +whole congregation; and when he had concluded them, the eyes of the whole +congregation were turned upon my companions and myself. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +Return from Church--The Cuckoo and Gypsy--Spiritual Discourse. + +The service over, my companions and myself returned towards the +encampment, by the way we came. Some of the humble part of the +congregation laughed and joked at us as we passed. Mr. Petulengro and +his wife, however, returned their laughs and jokes with interest. As for +Tawno and myself, we said nothing: Tawno, like most handsome fellows, +having very little to say for himself at any time; and myself, though not +handsome, not being particularly skilful at repartee. Some boys followed +us for a considerable time, making all kinds of observations about +gypsies; but as we walked at a great pace, we gradually left them behind, +and at last lost sight of them. Mrs. Petulengro and Tawno Chikno walked +together, even as they had come; whilst Mr. Petulengro and myself +followed at a little distance. + +"That was a very fine preacher we heard," said I to Mr. Petulengro, after +we had crossed the stile into the fields. + +"Very fine indeed, brother," said Mr. Petulengro; "he is talked of, far +and wide, for his sermons; folks say that there is scarcely another like +him in the whole of England." + +"He looks rather melancholy, Jasper." + +"He lost his wife several years ago, who, they say, was one of the most +beautiful women ever seen. They say that it was grief for her loss that +made him come out mighty strong as a preacher; for, though he was a +clergyman, he was never heard of in the pulpit before he lost his wife; +since then, the whole country has rung with the preaching of the +clergyman of M--- as they call him. Those two nice young gentlewomen, +whom you saw with the female childer, are his daughters." + +"You seem to know all about him, Jasper. Did you ever hear him preach +before?" + +"Never, brother; but he has frequently been to our tent, and his +daughters too, and given us tracts; for he is one of the people they call +Evangelicals, who give folks tracts which they cannot read." + +"You should learn to read, Jasper." + +"We have no time, brother." + +"Are you not frequently idle?" + +"Never, brother; when we are not engaged in our traffic, we are engaged +in taking our relaxation: so we have no time to learn." + +"You really should make an effort. If you were disposed to learn to +read, I would endeavour to assist you. You would be all the better for +knowing how to read." + +"In what way, brother?" + +"Why, you could read the Scriptures, and, by so doing, learn your duty +towards your fellow-creatures." + +"We know that already, brother; the constables and justices have +contrived to knock that tolerably into our heads." + +"Yet you frequently break the laws." + +"So, I believe, do now and then those who know how to read, brother." + +"Very true, Jasper; but you really ought to learn to read, as, by so +doing, you might learn your duty towards yourselves: and your chief duty +is to take care of your own souls; did not the preacher say, 'In what is +a man profited, provided he gain the whole world?'" + +"We have not much of the world, brother." + +"Very little indeed, Jasper. Did you not observe how the eyes of the +whole congregation were turned towards our pew, when the preacher said, +'There are some people who lose their souls, and get nothing in exchange; +who are outcast, despised, and miserable?' Now was not what he said +quite applicable to the gypsies?" + +"We are not miserable, brother." + +"Well, then, you ought to be, Jasper. Have you an inch of ground of your +own? Are you of the least use? Are you not spoken ill of by everybody? +What's a gypsy?" + +"What's the bird noising yonder, brother?" + +"The bird! oh, that's the cuckoo tolling; but what has the cuckoo to do +with the matter?" + +"We'll see, brother; what's the cuckoo?" + +"What is it? you know as much about it as myself, Jasper." + +"Isn't it a kind of roguish, chaffing bird, brother?" + +"I believe it is, Jasper." + +"Nobody knows whence it comes, brother?" + +"I believe not, Jasper." + +"Very poor, brother, not a nest of its own?" + +"So they say, Jasper." + +"With every person's bad word, brother?" + +"Yes, Jasper, every person is mocking it." + +"Tolerably merry, brother?" + +"Yes, tolerably merry, Jasper." + +"Of no use at all, brother?" + +"None whatever, Jasper." + +"You would be glad to get rid of the cuckoos, brother?" + +"Why, not exactly, Jasper; the cuckoo is a pleasant, funny bird, and its +presence and voice give a great charm to the green trees and fields; no, +I can't say I wish exactly to get rid of the cuckoo." + +"Well, brother, what's a Romany chal?" + +"You must answer that question yourself, Jasper." + +"A roguish, chaffing fellow, a'n't he, brother?" + +"Ay, ay, Jasper." + +"Of no use at all, brother?" + +"Just so, Jasper; I see--" + +"Something very much like a cuckoo, brother?" + +"I see what you are after, Jasper." + +"You would like to get rid of us, wouldn't you?" + +"Why no, not exactly." + +"We are no ornament to the green lanes in spring and summer time, are we, +brother? and the voices of our chies, with their cukkerin and dukkerin, +don't help to make them pleasant?" + +"I see what you are at, Jasper." + +"You would wish to turn the cuckoos into barn-door fowls, wouldn't you?" + +"Can't say I should, Jasper, whatever some people might wish." + +"And the chals and chies into radical weavers and factory wenches, hey, +brother?" + +"Can't say that I should, Jasper. You are certainly a picturesque +people, and in many respects an ornament both to town and country; +painting and lil writing too are under great obligations to you. What +pretty pictures are made out of your campings and groupings, and what +pretty books have been written in which gypsies, or at least creatures +intended to represent gypsies, have been the principal figures. I think +if we were without you, we should begin to miss you." + +"Just as you would the cuckoos, if they were all converted into barn-door +fowls. I tell you what, brother; frequently, as I have sat under a hedge +in spring or summer time, and heard the cuckoo, I have thought that we +chals and cuckoos are alike in many respects, but especially in +character. Everybody speaks ill of us both, and everybody is glad to see +both of us again." + +"Yes, Jasper, but there is some difference between men and cuckoos; men +have souls, Jasper!" + +"And why not cuckoos, brother?" + +"You should not talk so, Jasper; what you say is little short of +blasphemy. How should a bird have a soul?" + +"And how should a man?" + +"Oh, we know very well that a man has a soul." + +"How do you know it?" + +"We know very well." + +"Would you take your oath of it, brother--your bodily oath?" + +"Why, I think I might, Jasper!" + +"Did you ever see the soul, brother?" + +"No, I never saw it." + +"Then how could you swear to it? A pretty figure you would make in a +court of justice, to swear to a thing which you never saw. Hold up your +head, fellow. When and where did you see it? Now upon your oath, +fellow, do you mean to say that this Roman stole the donkey's foal? Oh, +there's no one for cross-questioning like Counsellor P---. Our people +when they are in a hobble always like to employ him, though he is +somewhat dear. Now, brother, how can you get over the 'upon your oath, +fellow, will you say that you have a soul?'" + +"Well, we will take no oaths on the subject; but you yourself believe in +the soul. I have heard you say that you believe in dukkerin; now what is +dukkerin but the soul science?" + +"When did I say that I believed in it?" + +"Why, after that fight, when you pointed to the bloody mark in the cloud, +whilst he you wot of was galloping in the barouche to the old town, +amidst the rain-cataracts, the thunder, and flame of heaven." + +"I have some kind of remembrance of it, brother." + +"Then, again, I heard you say that the dook of Abershaw rode every night +on horseback down the wooded hill." + +"I say, brother, what a wonderful memory you have!" + +"I wish I had not, Jasper; but I can't help it, it is my misfortune." + +"Misfortune! well, perhaps it is; at any rate it is very ungenteel to +have such a memory. I have heard my wife say that to show you have a +long memory looks very vulgar; and that you can't give a greater proof of +gentility than by forgetting a thing as soon as possible--more especially +a promise, or an acquaintance when he happens to be shabby. Well, +brother, I don't deny that I may have said that I believe in dukkerin, +and in Abershaw's dook, which you say is his soul; but what I believe one +moment, or say I believe, don't be certain that I shall believe the next, +or say I do." + +"Indeed, Jasper, I heard you say on a previous occasion, on quoting a +piece of a song, that when a man dies he is cast into the earth, and +there's an end of him." + +"I did, did I? Lor' what a memory you have, brother. But you are not +sure that I hold that opinion now." + +"Certainly not, Jasper. Indeed, after such a sermon as we have been +hearing, I should be very shocked if you held such an opinion." + +"However, brother, don't be sure I do not, however shocking such an +opinion may be to you." + +"What an incomprehensible people you are, Jasper." + +"We are rather so, brother; indeed, we have posed wiser heads than yours +before now." + +"You seem to care for so little, and yet you rove about a distinct race." + +"I say, brother!" + +"Yes, Jasper." + +"What do you think of our women?" + +"They have certainly very singular names, Jasper." + +"Names! Lavengro! However, brother, if you had been as fond of things +as of names, you would never have been a pal of ours." + +"What do you mean, Jasper?" + +"A'n't they rum animals?" + +"They have tongues of their own, Jasper." + +"Did you ever feel their teeth and nails, brother?" + +"Never, Jasper, save Mrs. Herne's. I have always been very civil to +them, so--" + +"They let you alone. I say, brother, some part of the secret is in +them." + +"They seem rather flighty, Jasper." + +"Ay, ay, brother!" + +"Rather fond of loose discourse!" + +"Rather so, brother." + +"Can you always trust them, Jasper?" + +"We never watch them, brother." + +"Can they always trust you?" + +"Not quite so well as we can them. However, we get on very well +together, except Mikailia and her husband; but Mikailia is a cripple, and +is married to the beauty of the world, so she may be expected to be +jealous--though he would not part with her for a duchess, no more than I +would part with my rawnie, nor any other chal with his." + +"Ay, but would not the chi part with the chal for a duke, Jasper?" + +"My Pakomovna gave up the duke for me, brother." + +"But she occasionally talks of him, Jasper." + +"Yes, brother, but Pakomovna was born on a common not far from the sign +of the gammon." + +"Gammon of bacon, I suppose." + +"Yes, brother; but gammon likewise means--" + +"I know it does, Jasper; it means fun, ridicule, jest; it is an ancient +Norse word, and is found in the Edda." + +"Lor', brother! how learned in lils you are!" + +"Many words of Norse are to be found in our vulgar sayings, Jasper; for +example--in that particularly vulgar saying of ours, 'Your mother is up,' +there's a noble Norse word; mother, there, meaning not the female who +bore us, but rage and choler, as I discovered by reading the Sagas, +Jasper." + +"Lor', brother! how book-learned you be." + +"Indifferently so, Jasper. Then you think you might trust your wife with +the duke?" + +"I think I could, brother, or even with yourself." + +"Myself, Jasper! Oh, I never troubled my head about your wife; but I +suppose there have been love affairs between gorgios and Romany chies. +Why, novels are stuffed with such matters; and then even one of your own +songs says so--the song which Ursula was singing the other afternoon." + +"That is somewhat of an old song, brother, and is sung by the chies as a +warning at our solemn festivals." + +"Well! but there's your sister-in-law, Ursula, herself, Jasper." + +"Ursula, herself, brother?" + +"You were talking of my having her, Jasper." + +"Well, brother, why didn't you have her?" + +"Would she have had me?" + +"Of course, brother. You are so much of a Roman, and speak Romany so +remarkably well." + +"Poor thing! she looks very innocent!" + +"Remarkably so, brother! however, though not born on the same common with +my wife, she knows a thing or two of Roman matters." + +"I should like to ask her a question or two, Jasper, in connection with +that song." + +"You can do no better, brother. Here we are at the camp. After tea, +take Ursula under a hedge, and ask her a question or two in connection +with that song." + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Sunday Evening--Ursula--Action at Law--Meridiana--Married Already. + +I took tea that evening with Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro and Ursula, outside +of their tent. Tawno was not present, being engaged with his wife in his +own tabernacle; Sylvester was there, however, lolling listlessly upon the +ground. As I looked upon this man, I thought him one of the most +disagreeable fellows I had ever seen. His features were ugly, and, +moreover, as dark as pepper; and, besides being dark, his skin was dirty. +As for his dress, it was torn and sordid. His chest was broad, and his +arms seemed powerful; but, upon the whole, he looked a very caitiff. "I +am sorry that man has lost his wife," thought I; "for I am sure he will +never get another." What surprises me is, that he ever found a woman +disposed to unite her lot with his! + +After tea I got up and strolled about the field. My thoughts were upon +Isopel Berners. I wondered where she was, and how long she would stay +away. At length becoming tired and listless, I determined to return to +the dingle, and resume the reading of the Bible at the place where I had +left off. "What better could I do," methought, "on a Sunday evening?" I +was then near the wood which surrounded the dingle, but at that side +which was farthest from the encampment, which stood near the entrance. +Suddenly, on turning round the southern corner of the copse, which +surrounded the dingle, I perceived Ursula seated under a thornbush. I +thought I never saw her look prettier than then, dressed as she was, in +her Sunday's best. + +"Good evening, Ursula," said I; "I little thought to have the pleasure of +seeing you here." + +"Nor would you, brother," said Ursula, "had not Jasper told me that you +had been talking about me, and wanted to speak to me under a hedge; so, +hearing that, I watched your motions, and came here and sat down." + +"I was thinking of going to my quarters in the dingle, to read the Bible, +Ursula, but--" + +"Oh, pray then, go to your quarters, brother, and read the Miduveleskoe +lil; you can speak to me under a hedge some other time." + +"I think I will sit down with you, Ursula; for, after all, reading godly +books in dingles at eve, is rather sombre work. Yes, I think I will sit +down with you;" and I sat down by her side. + +"Well, brother, now you have sat down with me under the hedge, what have +you to say to me?" + +"Why, I hardly know, Ursula." + +"Not know, brother; a pretty fellow you to ask young women to come and +sit with you under hedges, and, when they come, not know what to say to +them." + +"Oh! ah! I remember; do you know, Ursula, that I take a great interest in +you?" + +"Thank ye, brother; kind of you, at any rate." + +"You must be exposed to a great many temptations, Ursula." + +"A great many indeed, brother. It is hard to see fine things, such as +shawls, gold watches, and chains in the shops, behind the big glasses, +and to know that they are not intended for one. Many's the time I have +been tempted to make a dash at them; but I bethought myself that by so +doing I should cut my hands, besides being almost certain of being +grabbed and sent across the gull's bath to the foreign country." + +"Then you think gold and fine things temptations, Ursula?" + +"Of course, brother, very great temptations; don't you think them so?" + +"Can't say I do, Ursula." + +"Then more fool you, brother; but have the kindness to tell me what you +would call a temptation?" + +"Why, for example, the hope of honour and renown, Ursula." + +"The hope of honour and renown! very good, brother; but I tell you one +thing, that unless you have money in your pocket, and good broad-cloth on +your back, you are not likely to obtain much honour and--what do you call +it? amongst the gorgios, to say nothing of the Romany chals." + +"I should have thought, Ursula, that the Romany chals, roaming about the +world as they do, free and independent, were above being led by such +trifles." + +"Then you know nothing of the gypsies, brother; no people on earth are +fonder of those trifles, as you call them, than the Romany chals, and +more disposed to respect those who have them." + +"Then money and fine clothes would induce you to do anything, Ursula?" + +"Ay, ay, brother, anything." + +"To chore, Ursula?" + +"Like enough, brother; gypsies have been transported before now for +choring." + +"To hokkawar?" + +"Ay, ay; I was telling dukkerin only yesterday, brother." + +"In fact, to break the law in everything?" + +"Who knows, brother, who knows? as I said before, gold and fine clothes +are great temptations." + +"Well, Ursula, I am sorry for it, I should never have thought you so +depraved." + +"Indeed, brother." + +"To think that I am seated by one who is willing to--to--" + +"Go on, brother." + +"To play the thief." + +"Go on, brother." + +"The liar." + +"Go on, brother." + +"The--the--" + +"Go on, brother." + +"The--the lubbeny." + +"The what, brother?" said Ursula, starting from her seat. + +"Why, the lubbeny; don't you--" + +"I tell you what, brother," said Ursula, looking somewhat pale, and +speaking very low, "if I had only something in my hand, I would do you a +mischief." + +"Why, what is the matter, Ursula?" said I; "how have I offended you?" + +"How have you offended me? Why, didn't you insinivate just now that I +was ready to play the--the--" + +"Go on, Ursula." + +"The--the--I'll not say it; but I only wish I had something in my hand." + +"If I have offended, Ursula, I am very sorry for it; any offence I may +have given you was from want of understanding you. Come, pray be seated, +I have much to question you about--to talk to you about." + +"Seated, not I! It was only just now that you gave me to understand that +you was ashamed to be seated by me, a thief, a liar." + +"Well, did you not almost give me to understand that you were both, +Ursula?" + +"I don't much care being called a thief and a liar," said Ursula; "a +person may be a liar and thief, and yet a very honest woman, but--" + +"Well, Ursula." + +"I tell you what, brother, if you ever sinivate again that I could be the +third thing, so help me duvel! I'll do you a mischief. By my God I +will!" + +"Well, Ursula, I assure you that I shall sinivate, as you call it, +nothing of the kind about you. I have no doubt, from what you have said, +that you are a very paragon of virtue--a perfect Lucretia; but--" + +"My name is Ursula, brother, and not Lucretia: Lucretia is not of our +family, but one of the Bucklands; she travels about Oxfordshire; yet I am +as good as she any day." + +"Lucretia; how odd! Where could she have got that name? Well, I make no +doubt, Ursula, that you are quite as good as she, and she as her namesake +of ancient Rome; but there is a mystery in this same virtue, Ursula, +which I cannot fathom; how a thief and a liar should be able, or indeed +willing, to preserve her virtue is what I don't understand. You confess +that you are very fond of gold. Now, how is it that you don't barter +your virtue for gold sometimes? I am a philosopher, Ursula, and like to +know everything. You must be every now and then exposed to great +temptation, Ursula; for you are of a beauty calculated to captivate all +hearts. Come, sit down and tell me how you are enabled to resist such a +temptation as gold and fine clothes?" + +"Well, brother," said Ursula, "as you say you mean no harm, I will sit +down beside you, and enter into discourse with you; but I will uphold +that you are the coolest hand that I ever came nigh, and say the coolest +things." + +And thereupon Ursula sat down by my side. + +"Well, Ursula, we will, if you please, discourse on the subject of your +temptations. I suppose that you travel very much about, and show +yourself in all kinds of places?" + +"In all kinds, brother; I travels, as you say, very much about, attends +fairs and races, and enters booths and public-houses, where I tells +fortunes, and sometimes dances and sings." + +"And do not people often address you in a very free manner?" + +"Frequently, brother; and I give them tolerably free answers." + +"Do people ever offer to make you presents? I mean presents of value, +such as--" + +"Silk handkerchiefs, shawls, and trinkets; very frequently, brother." + +"And what do you do, Ursula?" + +"I takes what people offers me, brother, and stows it away as soon as I +can." + +"Well, but don't people expect something for their presents? I don't +mean dukkerin, dancing, and the like; but such a moderate and innocent +thing as a choomer, Ursula?" + +"Innocent thing, do you call it, brother?" + +"The world calls it so, Ursula. Well, do the people who give you the +fine things never expect a choomer in return?" + +"Very frequently, brother." + +"And do you ever grant it?" + +"Never, brother." + +"How do you avoid it?" + +"I gets away as soon as possible, brother. If they follows me, I tries +to baffle them, by means of jests and laughter; and if they persist, I +uses bad and terrible language, of which I have plenty in store." + +"But if your terrible language has no effect?" + +"Then I screams for the constable, and if he comes not, I uses my teeth +and nails." + +"And are they always sufficient?" + +"I have only had to use them twice, brother; but then I found them +sufficient." + +"But suppose the person who followed you was highly agreeable, Ursula? A +handsome young officer of local militia, for example, all dressed in +Lincoln green, would you still refuse him the choomer?" + +"We makes no difference, brother; the daughters of the gypsy-father makes +no difference; and what's more, sees none." + +"Well, Ursula, the world will hardly give you credit for such +indifference." + +"What cares we for the world, brother! we are not of the world." + +"But your fathers, brothers, and uncles, give you credit, I suppose, +Ursula." + +"Ay, ay, brother, our fathers, brothers, and cokos gives us all manner of +credit; for example, I am telling lies and dukkerin in a public-house +where my batu or coko--perhaps both--are playing on the fiddle; well, my +batu and my coko beholds me amongst the public-house crew, talking +nonsense and hearing nonsense; but they are under no apprehension; and +presently they sees the good-looking officer of militia, in his greens +and Lincolns, get up and give me a wink, and I go out with him abroad, +into the dark night perhaps; well, my batu and my coko goes on fiddling +just as if I were six miles off asleep in the tent, and not out in the +dark street with the local officer, with his Lincolns and his greens." + +"They know they can trust you, Ursula?" + +"Ay, ay, brother; and, what's more, I knows I can trust myself." + +"So you would merely go out to make a fool of him, Ursula?" + +"Merely go out to make a fool of him, brother, I assure you." + +"But such proceedings really have an odd look, Ursula." + +"Amongst gorgios, very so, brother." + +"Well, it must be rather unpleasant to lose one's character even amongst +gorgios, Ursula; and suppose the officer, out of revenge for being +tricked and duped by you, were to say of you the thing that is not, were +to meet you on the race-course the next day, and boast of receiving +favours which he never had, amidst a knot of jeering militia-men, how +would you proceed, Ursula? would you not be abashed?" + +"By no means, brother; I should bring my action of law against him." + +"Your action at law, Ursula?" + +"Yes, brother, I should give a whistle, whereupon all one's cokos and +batus, and all my near and distant relations, would leave their fiddling, +dukkerin, and horse-dealing, and come flocking about me. 'What's the +matter, Ursula?' says my coko. 'Nothing at all,' I replies, 'save and +except that gorgio, in his greens and his Lincolns, says that I have +played the--with him.' 'Oho, he does, Ursula,' says my coko, 'try your +action of law against him, my lamb,' and he puts something privily into +my hands; whereupon I goes close up to the grinning gorgio, and staring +him in the face, with my head pushed forward, I cries out: 'You say I did +what was wrong with you last night when I was out with you abroad?' +'Yes,' says the local officer, 'I says you did,' looking down all the +time. 'You are a liar,' says I, and forthwith I breaks his head with the +stick which I holds behind me, and which my coko has conveyed privily +into my hand." + +"And this is your action at law, Ursula?" + +"Yes, brother, this is my action at club-law." + +"And would your breaking the fellow's head quite clear you of all +suspicion in the eyes of your batus, cokos, and what not?" + +"They would never suspect me at all, brother, because they would know +that I would never condescend to be over-intimate with a gorgio; the +breaking the head would be merely intended to justify Ursula in the eyes +of the gorgios." + +"And would it clear you in their eyes?" + +"Would it not, brother? when they saw the blood running down from the +fellow's cracked poll on his greens and Lincolns, they would be quite +satisfied; why, the fellow would not be able to show his face at fair or +merry-making for a year and three-quarters." + +"Did you ever try it, Ursula?" + +"Can't say I ever did, brother, but it would do." + +"And how did you ever learn such a method of proceeding?" + +"Why, 't is advised by gypsy liri, brother. It's part of our way of +settling difficulties amongst ourselves; for example, if a young Roman +were to say the thing which is not respecting Ursula and himself, Ursula +would call a great meeting of the people, who would all sit down in a +ring, the young fellow amongst them; a coko would then put a stick in +Ursula's hand, who would then get up and go to the young fellow, and say, +'Did I play the--with you?' and were he to say 'Yes,' she would crack his +head before the eyes of all." + +"Well," said I, "Ursula, I was bred an apprentice to gorgio law, and of +course ought to stand up for it, whenever I conscientiously can, but I +must say the gypsy manner of bringing an action for defamation is much +less tedious, and far more satisfactory, than the gorgiko one. I wish +you now to clear up a certain point which is rather mysterious to me. You +say that for a Romany chi to do what is unseemly with a gorgio is quite +out of the question, yet only the other day I heard you singing a song in +which a Romany chi confesses herself to be cambri by a grand gorgious +gentleman." + +"A sad let down," said Ursula. + +"Well," said I, "sad or not, there's the song that speaks of the thing, +which you give me to understand is not." + +"Well, if the thing ever was," said Ursula, "it was a long time ago, and +perhaps, after all, not true." + +"Then why do you sing the song?" + +"I'll tell you, brother, we sings the song now and then to be a warning +to ourselves to have as little to do as possible in the way of +acquaintance with the gorgios; and a warning it is; you see how the young +woman in the song was driven out of her tent by her mother, with all kind +of disgrace and bad language; but you don't know that she was afterwards +buried alive by her cokos and pals, in an uninhabited place; the song +doesn't say it, but the story says it, for there is a story about it, +though, as I said before, it was a long time ago, and perhaps, after all, +wasn't true." + +"But if such a thing were to happen at present, would the cokos and pals +bury the girl alive?" + +"I can't say what they would do," said Ursula; "I suppose they are not so +strict as they were long ago; at any rate, she would be driven from the +tan, and avoided by all her family and relations as a gorgio's +acquaintance; so that, perhaps, at last, she would be glad if they would +bury her alive." + +"Well, I can conceive that there would be an objection on the part of the +cokos and batus that a Romany chi should form an improper acquaintance +with a gorgio, but I should think that the batus and cokos could hardly +object to the chi's entering into the honourable estate of wedlock with a +gorgio." + +Ursula was silent. + +"Marriage is an honourable estate, Ursula." + +"Well, brother, suppose it be?" + +"I don't see why a Romany chi should object to enter into the honourable +estate of wedlock with a gorgio." + +"You don't, brother; don't you?" + +"No," said I; "and, moreover, I am aware, notwithstanding your evasion, +Ursula, that marriages and connections now and then occur between gorgios +and Romany chies; the result of which is the mixed breed, called half and +half, which is at present travelling about England, and to which the +Flaming Tinman belongs, otherwise called Anselo Herne." + +"As for the half and halfs," said Ursula, "they are a bad set; and there +is not a worse blackguard in England than Anselo Herne." + +"All that you say may be very true, Ursula, but you admit that there are +half and halfs." + +"The more's the pity, brother." + +"Pity, or not, you admit the fact; but how do you account for it?" + +"How do I account for it? why, I will tell you, by the break up of a +Roman family, brother--the father of a small family dies, and, perhaps, +the mother; and the poor children are left behind; sometimes, they are +gathered up by their relations, and sometimes, if they have none, by +charitable Romans, who bring them up in the observance of gypsy law; but +sometimes they are not so lucky, and falls into the company of gorgios, +trampers, and basket-makers, who live in caravans, with whom they take +up, and so--I hate to talk of the matter, brother; but so comes this race +of the half and halfs." + +"Then you mean to say, Ursula, that no Romany chi, unless compelled by +hard necessity, would have anything to do with a gorgio?" + +"We are not over-fond of gorgios, brother, and we hates basket-makers, +and folks that live in caravans." + +"Well," said I, "suppose a gorgio who is not a basket-maker, a fine, +handsome gorgious gentleman, who lives in a fine house--" + +"We are not fond of houses, brother; I never slept in a house in my +life." + +"But would not plenty of money induce you?" + +"I hate houses, brother, and those who live in them." + +"Well, suppose such a person were willing to resign his fine house; and, +for love of you, to adopt gypsy law, speak Romany, and live in a tan, +would you have nothing to say to him?" + +"Bringing plenty of money with him, brother?" + +"Well, bringing plenty of money with him, Ursula." + +"Well, brother, suppose you produce your man; where is he?" + +"I was merely supposing such a person, Ursula." + +"Then you don't know of such a person, brother?" + +"Why, no, Ursula; why do you ask?" + +"Because, brother, I was almost beginning to think that you meant +yourself." + +"Myself! Ursula; I have no fine house to resign; nor have I money. +Moreover, Ursula, though I have a great regard for you, and though I +consider you very handsome, quite as handsome, indeed, as Meridiana in--" + +"Meridiana! where did you meet with her?" said Ursula, with a toss of her +head. + +"Why, in old Pulci's--" + +"At old Fulcher's! that's not true, brother. Meridiana is a Borzlam, and +travels with her own people, and not with old Fulcher, who is a gorgio, +and a basket-maker." + +"I was not speaking of old Fulcher, but Pulci, a great Italian writer, +who lived many hundred years ago, and who, in his poem called 'Morgante +Maggiore,' speaks of Meridiana, the daughter of--" + +"Old Carus Borzlam," said Ursula; "but if the fellow you mention lived so +many hundred years ago, how, in the name of wonder, could he know +anything of Meridiana?" + +"The wonder, Ursula, is, how your people could ever have got hold of that +name, and similar ones. The Meridiana of Pulci was not the daughter of +old Carus Borzlam, but of Caradoro, a great pagan king of the East, who, +being besieged in his capital by Manfredonio, another mighty pagan king, +who wished to obtain possession of his daughter, who had refused him, was +relieved in his distress by certain paladins of Charlemagne, with one of +whom, Oliver, his daughter Meridiana fell in love." + +"I see," said, Ursula, "that it must have been altogether a different +person, for I am sure that Meridiana Borzlam would never have fallen in +love with Oliver. Oliver! why, that is the name of the curo-mengro, who +lost the fight near the chong gav, the day of the great tempest, when I +got wet through. No, no! Meridiana Borzlam would never have so far +forgot her blood as to take up with Tom Oliver." + +"I was not talking of that Oliver, Ursula, but of Oliver, peer of France, +and paladin of Charlemagne, with whom Meridiana, daughter of Caradoro, +fell in love, and for whose sake she renounced her religion and became a +Christian, and finally ingravidata, or cambri, by him:-- + + 'E nacquene un figliuol, dice la storia, + Che dette a Carlo-man poi gran vittoria;' + +which means--" + +"I don't want to know what it means," said Ursula; "no good, I'm sure. +Well, if the Meridiana of Charles's wain's pal was no handsomer than +Meridiana Borzlam, she was no great catch, brother; for though I am by no +means given to vanity, I think myself better to look at than she, though +I will say she is no lubbeny, and would scorn--" + +"I make no doubt she would, Ursula, and I make no doubt that you are much +handsomer than she, or even the Meridiana of Oliver. What I was about to +say, before you interrupted me, is this, that though I have a great +regard for you, and highly admire you, it is only in a brotherly way, +and--" + +"And you had nothing better to say to me," said Ursula, "when you wanted +to talk to me beneath a hedge, than that you liked me in a brotherly way +I well, I declare--" + +"You seem disappointed, Ursula." + +"Disappointed, brother! not I." + +"You were just now saying that you disliked gorgios, so, of course, could +only wish that I, who am a gorgio, should like you in a brotherly way: I +wished to have a conversation with you beneath a hedge, but only with the +view of procuring from you some information respecting the song which you +sung the other day, and the conduct of Roman females, which has always +struck me as being highly unaccountable; so, if you thought anything +else--" + +"What else should I expect from a picker-up of old words, brother? Bah! +I dislike a picker-up of old words worse than a picker-up of old rags." + +"Don't be angry, Ursula, I feel a great interest in you; you are very +handsome, and very clever; indeed, with your beauty and cleverness, I +only wonder that you have not long since been married." + +"You do, do you, brother?" + +"Yes. However, keep up your spirits, Ursula, you are not much past the +prime of youth, so--" + +"Not much past the prime of youth! Don't be uncivil, brother, I was only +twenty-two last month." + +"Don't be offended, Ursula, but twenty-two is twenty-two, or, I should +rather say, that twenty-two in a woman is more than twenty-six in a man. +You are still very beautiful, but I advise you to accept the first offer +that's made to you." + +"Thank you, brother, but your advice comes rather late; I accepted the +first offer that was made me five years ago." + +"You married five years ago, Ursula! is it possible?" + +"Quite possible, brother, I assure you." + +"And how came I to know nothing about it?" + +"How comes it that you don't know many thousand things about the Romans, +brother? Do you think they tell you all their affairs?" + +"Married, Ursula, married! well, I declare!" + +"You seem disappointed, brother." + +"Disappointed! Oh! no, not at all; but Jasper, only a few weeks ago, +told me that you were not married; and, indeed, almost gave me to +understand that you would be very glad to get a husband." + +"And you believed him? I'll tell you, brother, for your instruction, +that there is not in the whole world a greater liar than Jasper +Petulengro." + +"I am sorry to hear it, Ursula; but with respect to him you married--who +might he be? A gorgio, or a Romany chal?" + +"Gorgio, or Romany chal! Do you think I would ever condescend to a +gorgio! It was a Camomescro, brother, a Lovell, a distant relation of my +own." + +"And where is he? and what became of him! Have you any family?" + +"Don't think I am going to tell you all my history, brother; and, to tell +you the truth, I am tired of sitting under hedges with you, talking +nonsense. I shall go to my house." + +"Do sit a little longer, sister Ursula. I most heartily congratulate you +on your marriage. But where is this same Lovell? I have never seen him: +I wish to congratulate him too. You are quite as handsome as the +Meridiana of Pulci, Ursula, ay, or the Despina of Riciardetto. +Riciardetto, Ursula, is a poem written by one Fortiguerra, about ninety +years ago, in imitation of the Morgante of Pulci. It treats of the wars +of Charlemagne and his Paladins with various barbarous nations, who came +to besiege Paris. Despina was the daughter and heiress of Scricca, King +of Cafria; she was the beloved of Riciardetto, and was beautiful as an +angel; but I make no doubt you are quite as handsome as she." + +"Brother," said Ursula--but the reply of Ursula I reserve for another +chapter, the present having attained to rather an uncommon length, for +which, however, the importance of the matter discussed is a sufficient +apology. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +Ursula's Tale--The Patteran--The Deep Water--Second Husband. + +"Brother," said Ursula, plucking a dandelion which grew at her feet, "I +have always said that a more civil and pleasant-spoken person than +yourself can't be found. I have a great regard for you and your +learning, and am willing to do you any pleasure in the way of words or +conversation. Mine is not a very happy story, but as you wish to hear +it, it is quite at your service. Launcelot Lovell made me an offer, as +you call it, and we were married in Roman fashion; that is, we gave each +other our right hands, and promised to be true to each other. We lived +together two years, travelling sometimes by ourselves, sometimes with our +relations; I bore him two children, both of which were still-born, +partly, I believe, from the fatigue I underwent in running about the +country telling dukkerin when I was not exactly in a state to do so, and +partly from the kicks and blows which my husband Launcelot was in the +habit of giving me every night, provided I came home with less than five +shillings, which it is sometimes impossible to make in the country, +provided no fair or merry-making is going on. At the end of two years my +husband, Launcelot, whistled a horse from a farmer's field, and sold it +for forty-pounds; and for that horse he was taken, put in prison, tried, +and condemned to be sent to the other country for life. Two days before +he was to be sent away, I got leave to see him in the prison, and in the +presence of the turnkey I gave him a thin cake of gingerbread, in which +there was a dainty saw which could cut through iron. I then took on +wonderfully, turned my eyes inside out, fell down in a seeming fit, and +was carried out of the prison. That same night my husband sawed his +irons off, cut through the bars of his window, and dropping down a height +of fifty feet, lighted on his legs, and came and joined me on a heath +where I was camped alone. We were just getting things ready to be off, +when we heard people coming, and sure enough they were runners after my +husband, Launcelot Lovell; for his escape had been discovered within a +quarter of an hour after he had got away. My husband, without bidding me +farewell, set off at full speed, and they after him, but they could not +take him, and so they came back and took me, and shook me, and threatened +me, and had me before the poknees, who shook his head at me, and +threatened me in order to make me discover where my husband was, but I +said I did not know, which was true enough; not that I would have told +him if I had. So at last the poknees and the runners, not being able to +make anything out of me, were obliged to let me go, and I went in search +of my husband. I wandered about with my cart for several days in the +direction in which I saw him run off, with my eyes bent on the ground, +but could see no marks of him; at last, coming to four cross roads, I saw +my husband's patteran." + +"You saw your husband's patteran?" + +"Yes, brother. Do you know what patteran means?" + +"Of course, Ursula; the gypsy trail, the handful of grass which the +gypsies strew in the roads as they travel, to give information to any of +their companions who may be behind, as to the route they have taken. The +gypsy patteran has always had a strange interest for me, Ursula." + +"Like enough, brother; but what does patteran mean?" + +"Why, the gypsy trail, formed as I told you before." + +"And you know nothing more about patteran, brother?" + +"Nothing at all, Ursula; do you?" + +"What's the name for the leaf of a tree, brother?" + +"I don't know," said I; "it's odd enough that I have asked that question +of a dozen Romany chals and chies, and they always told me that they did +not know." + +"No more they did, brother; there's only one person in England that +knows, and that's myself--the name for a leaf is patteran. Now there are +two that knows it--the other is yourself." + +"Dear me, Ursula, how very strange! I am much obliged to you. I think I +never saw you look so pretty as you do now; but who told you?" + +"My mother, Mrs. Herne, told it me one day, brother, when she was in a +good humour, which she very seldom was, as no one has a better right to +know than yourself, as she hated you mortally: it was one day when you +had been asking our company what was the word for a leaf, and nobody +could tell you, that she took me aside and told me, for she was in a good +humour, and triumphed in seeing you balked. She told me the word for +leaf was patteran, which our people use now for trail, having forgotten +the true meaning. She said that the trail was called patteran, because +the gypsies of old were in the habit of making the marks with the leaves +and branches of trees, placed in a certain manner. She said that nobody +knew it but herself, who was one of the old sort, and begged me never to +tell the word to any one but him I should marry; and to be particularly +cautious never to let you know it, whom she hated. Well, brother, +perhaps I have done wrong to tell you; but, as I said before, I likes +you, and am always ready to do your pleasure in words and conversation; +my mother, moreover, is dead and gone, and, poor thing, will never know +anything about the matter. So, when I married, I told my husband about +the patteran, and we were in the habit of making our private trails with +leaves and branches of trees, which none of the other gypsy people did; +so, when I saw my husband's patteran, I knew it at once, and I followed +it upwards of two hundred miles towards the north; and then I came to a +deep, awful-looking water, with an overhanging bank, and on the bank I +found the patteran, which directed me to proceed along the bank towards +the east, and I followed my husband's patteran towards the east; and +before I had gone half a mile, I came to a place where I saw the bank had +given way, and fallen into the deep water. Without paying much heed, I +passed on, and presently came to a public-house, not far from the water, +and I entered the public-house to get a little beer, and perhaps to tell +a dukkerin, for I saw a great many people about the door; and, when I +entered, I found there was what they calls an inquest being held upon a +body in that house, and the jury had just risen to go and look at the +body; and being a woman, and having a curiosity, I thought I would go +with them, and so I did; and no sooner did I see the body, than I knew it +to be my husband's; it was much swelled and altered, but I knew it partly +by the clothes, and partly by a mark on the forehead, and I cried out, +'It is my husband's body,' and I fell down in a fit, and the fit that +time, brother, was not a seeming one." + +"Dear me," said I, "how terrible! but tell me, Ursula, how did your +husband come by his death?" + +"The bank, overhanging the deep water, gave way under him, brother, and +he was drowned; for, like most of our people, he could not swim, or only +a little. The body, after it had been in the water a long time, came up +of itself, and was found floating. Well, brother, when the people of the +neighbourhood found that I was the wife of the drowned man, they were +very kind to me, and made a subscription for me, with which, after having +seen my husband buried, I returned the way I had come, till I met Jasper +and his people, and with them I have travelled ever since: I was very +melancholy for a long time, I assure you, brother; for the death of my +husband preyed very much upon my mind." + +"His death was certainly a very shocking one, Ursula; but, really, if he +had died a natural one, you could scarcely have regretted it, for he +appears to have treated you barbarously." + +"Women must bear, brother; and, barring that he kicked and beat me, and +drove me out to tell dukkerin when I could scarcely stand, he was not a +bad husband. A man, by gypsy law, brother, is allowed to kick and beat +his wife, and to bury her alive, if he thinks proper. I am a gypsy, and +have nothing to say against the law." + +"But what has Mikailia Chikno to say about it?" + +"She is a cripple, brother, the only cripple amongst the Roman people: so +she is allowed to do and say as she pleases. Moreover, her husband does +not think fit to kick or beat her, though it is my opinion she would like +him all the better if he were occasionally to do so, and threaten to bury +her alive; at any rate, she would treat him better, and respect him +more." + +"Your sister does not seem to stand much in awe of Jasper Petulengro, +Ursula." + +"Let the matters of my sister and Jasper Petulengro alone, brother; you +must travel in their company some time before you can understand them; +they are a strange two, up to all kind of chaffing: but two more regular +Romans don't breathe, and I'll tell you, for your instruction, that there +isn't a better mare-breaker in England than Jasper Petulengro, if you can +manage Miss Isopel Berners as well as--" + +"Isopel Berners," said I, "how came you to think of her?" + +"How should I but think of her, brother, living as she does with you in +Mumper's dingle, and travelling about with you; you will have, brother, +more difficulty to manage her, than Jasper has to manage my sister +Pakomovna. I should have mentioned her before, only I wanted to know +what you had to say to me; and when we got into discourse, I forgot her. +I say, brother, let me tell you your dukkerin, with respect to her, you +will never--" + +"I want to hear no dukkerin, Ursula." + +"Do let me tell you your dukkerin, brother, you will never manage--" + +"I want to hear no dukkerin, Ursula, in connection with Isopel Berners. +Moreover, it is Sunday, we will change the subject; it is surprising to +me that, after all you have undergone, you should look so beautiful. I +suppose you do not think of marrying again, Ursula?" + +"No, brother, one husband at a time is quite enough for any reasonable +mort; especially such a good husband as I have got." + +"Such a good husband! why, I thought you told me your husband was +drowned?" + +"Yes, brother, my first husband was." + +"And have you a second?" + +"To be sure, brother." + +"And who is he? in the name of wonder." + +"Who is he? why Sylvester, to be sure." + +"I do assure you, Ursula, that I feel disposed to be angry with you; such +a handsome young woman as yourself to take up with such a nasty pepper- +faced good for nothing--" + +"I won't hear my husband abused, brother; so you had better say no more." + +"Why, is he not the Lazarus of the gypsies? has he a penny of his own, +Ursula?" + +"Then the more his want, brother, of a clever chi like me to take care of +him and his childer. I tell you what, brother, I will chore, if +necessary, and tell dukkerin for Sylvester, if even so heavy as scarcely +to be able to stand. You call him lazy; you would not think him lazy if +you were in a ring with him: he is a proper man with his hands; Jasper is +going to back him for twenty pounds against Slammocks of the Chong gav, +the brother of Roarer and Bell-metal, he says he has no doubt that he +will win." + +"Well, if you like him, I, of course, can have no objection. Have you +been long married?" + +"About a fortnight, brother; that dinner, the other day, when I sang the +song, was given in celebration of the wedding." + +"Were you married in a church, Ursula?" + +"We were not, brother; none but gorgios, cripples, and lubbenys are ever +married in a church: we took each other's words. Brother, I have been +with you near three hours beneath this hedge. I will go to my husband." + +"Does he know that you are here?" + +"He does, brother." + +"And is he satisfied?" + +"Satisfied! of course. Lor', you gorgies! Brother, I go to my husband +and my house." And, thereupon, Ursula rose and departed. + +After waiting a little time I also arose; it was now dark, and I thought +I could do no better than betake myself to the dingle; at the entrance of +it I found Mr. Petulengro. "Well, brother," said he, "what kind of +conversation have you and Ursula had beneath the hedge?" + +"If you wished to hear what we were talking about, you should have come +and sat down beside us; you knew where we were." + +"Well, brother, I did much the same, for I went and sat down behind you." + +"Behind the hedge, Jasper?" + +"Behind the hedge, brother." + +"And heard all our conversation." + +"Every word, brother; and a rum conversation it was." + +"'Tis an old saying, Jasper, that listeners never hear any good of +themselves; perhaps you heard the epithet that Ursula bestowed upon you." + +"If, by epitaph, you mean that she called me a liar, I did, brother, and +she was not much wrong, for I certainly do not always stick exactly to +truth; you, however, have not much to complain of me." + +"You deceived me about Ursula, giving me to understand she was not +married." + +"She was not married when I told you so, brother; that is, not to +Sylvester; nor was I aware that she was going to marry him. I once +thought you had a kind of regard for her, and I am sure she had as much +for you as a Romany chi can have for a gorgio. I half expected to have +heard you make love to her behind the hedge, but I begin to think you +care for nothing in this world but old words and strange stories. Lor' +to take a young woman under a hedge, and talk to her as you did to +Ursula; and yet you got everything out of her that you wanted, with your +gammon about old Fulcher and Meridiana. You are a cunning one, brother." + +"There you are mistaken, Jasper. I am not cunning. If people think I +am, it is because, being made up of art themselves, simplicity of +character is a puzzle to them. Your women are certainly extraordinary +creatures, Jasper." + +"Didn't I say they were rum animals? Brother, we Romans shall always +stick together as long as they stick fast to us." + +"Do you think they always will, Jasper?" + +"Can't say, brother; nothing lasts for ever. Romany chies are Romany +chies still, though not exactly what they were sixty years ago. My wife, +though a rum one, is not Mrs. Herne, brother. I think she is rather fond +of Frenchmen and French discourse. I tell you what, brother, if ever +gypsyism breaks up, it will be owing to our chies having been bitten by +that mad puppy they calls gentility." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +The Dingle at Night--The Two Sides of the Question--Roman Females--Filling +the Kettle--The Dream--The Tall Figure. + +I descended to the bottom of the dingle. It was nearly involved in +obscurity. To dissipate the feeling of melancholy which came over my +mind, I resolved to kindle a fire; and having heaped dry sticks upon my +hearth, and added a billet or two, I struck a light, and soon produced a +blaze. Sitting down, I fixed my eyes upon the blaze, and soon fell into +a deep meditation. I thought of the events of the day, the scene at +church, and what I had heard at church, the danger of losing one's soul, +the doubts of Jasper Petulengro as to whether one had a soul. I thought +over the various arguments which I had either heard, or which had come +spontaneously to my mind, for or against the probability of a state of +future existence. They appeared to me to be tolerably evenly balanced. I +then thought that it was at all events taking the safest part to conclude +that there was a soul. It would be a terrible thing, after having passed +one's life in the disbelief of the existence of a soul, to wake up after +death a soul, and to find one's self a lost soul. Yes, methought I would +come to the conclusion that one has a soul. Choosing the safe side, +however, appeared to me to be playing a rather dastardly part. I had +never been an admirer of people who chose the safe side in everything; +indeed I had always entertained a thorough contempt for them. Surely it +would be showing more manhood to adopt the dangerous side, that of +disbelief; I almost resolved to do so--but yet in a question of so much +importance, I ought not to be guided by vanity. The question was not +which was the safe, but the true side? yet how was I to know which was +the true side? Then I thought of the Bible--which I had been reading in +the morning--that spoke of the soul and a future state; but was the Bible +true? I had heard learned and moral men say that it was true, but I had +also heard learned and moral men say that it was not: how was I to +decide? Still that balance of probabilities! If I could but see the way +of truth, I would follow it, if necessary, upon hands and knees; on that +I was determined; but I could not see it. Feeling my brain begin to turn +round, I resolved to think of something else; and forthwith began to +think of what had passed between Ursula and myself in our discourse +beneath the hedge. + +I mused deeply on what she had told me as to the virtue of the females of +her race. How singular that virtue must be which was kept pure and +immaculate by the possessor, whilst indulging in habits of falsehood and +dishonesty! I had always thought the gypsy females extraordinary beings. +I had often wondered at them, their dress, their manner of speaking, and, +not least, at their names; but, until the present day, I had been +unacquainted with the most extraordinary point connected with them. How +came they possessed of this extraordinary virtue? was it because they +were thievish? I remembered that an ancient thief-taker, who had retired +from his useful calling, and who frequently visited the office of my +master at law, the respectable S---, who had the management of his +property--I remembered to have heard this worthy, with whom I +occasionally held discourse, philosophic and profound, when he and I +chanced to be alone together in the office, say that all first-rate +thieves were sober, and of well-regulated morals, their bodily passions +being kept in abeyance by their love of gain; but this axiom could +scarcely hold good with respect to these women--however thievish they +might be, they did care for something besides gain: they cared for their +husbands. If they did thieve, they merely thieved for their husbands; +and though, perhaps, some of them were vain, they merely prized their +beauty because it gave them favour in the eyes of their husbands. +Whatever the husbands were--and Jasper had almost insinuated that the +males occasionally allowed themselves some latitude--they appeared to be +as faithful to their husbands as the ancient Roman matrons were to +theirs. Roman matrons! and, after all, might not these be in reality +Roman matrons? They called themselves Romans; might not they be the +descendants of the old Roman matrons? Might not they be of the same +blood as Lucretia? And were not many of their strange names--Lucretia +amongst the rest--handed down to them from old Rome? It is true their +language was not that of old Rome; it was not, however, altogether +different from it. After all, the ancient Romans might be a tribe of +these people, who settled down and founded a village with the tilts of +carts, which, by degrees, and the influx of other people, became the +grand city of the world. I liked the idea of the grand city of the world +owing its origin to a people who had been in the habit of carrying their +houses in their carts. Why, after all, should not the Romans of history +be a branch of these Romans? There were several points of similarity +between them; if Roman matrons were chaste, both men and women were +thieves. Old Rome was the thief of the world; yet still there were +difficulties to be removed before I could persuade myself that the old +Romans and my Romans were identical; and in trying to remove these +difficulties, I felt my brain once more beginning to turn, and in haste +took up another subject of meditation, and that was the patteran, and +what Ursula had told me about it. + +I had always entertained a strange interest for that sign by which in +their wanderings the Romanese gave to those of their people who came +behind intimation as to the direction which they took; but it now +inspired me with greater interest than ever,--now that I had learnt that +the proper meaning of it was the leaves of trees. I had, as I had said +in my dialogue with Ursula, been very eager to learn the word for leaf in +the Romanian language, but had never learnt it till this day; so patteran +signified leaf of a tree; and no one at present knew that but myself and +Ursula, who had learnt it from Mrs. Herne, the last, it was said, of the +old stock; and then I thought what strange people the gypsies must have +been in the old time. They were sufficiently strange at present, but +they must have been far stranger of old; they must have been a more +peculiar people--their language must have been more perfect--and they +must have had a greater stock of strange secrets. I almost wished that I +had lived some two or three hundred years ago, that I might have observed +these people when they were yet stranger than at present. I wondered +whether I could have introduced myself to their company at that period, +whether I should have been so fortunate as to meet such a strange, half- +malicious, half good-humoured being as Jasper, who would have instructed +me in the language, then more deserving of note than at present. What +might I not have done with that language, had I known it in its purity? +Why, I might have written books in it; yet those who spoke it would +hardly have admitted me to their society at that period, when they kept +more to themselves. Yet I thought that I might possibly have gained +their confidence, and have wandered about with them, and learnt their +language, and all their strange ways, and then--and then--and a sigh rose +from the depth of my breast; for I began to think, "Supposing I had +accomplished all this, what would have been the profit of it; and in what +would all this wild gypsy dream have terminated?" + +Then rose another sigh, yet more profound, for I began to think, "What +was likely to be the profit of my present way of life; the living in +dingles, making pony and donkey shoes, conversing with gypsy-women under +hedges, and extracting from them their odd secrets?" What was likely to +be the profit of such a kind of life, even should it continue for a +length of time?--a supposition not very probable, for I was earning +nothing to support me, and the funds with which I had entered upon this +life were gradually disappearing. I was living, it is true, not +unpleasantly, enjoying the healthy air of heaven; but, upon the whole, +was I not sadly misspending my time? Surely I was; and, as I looked +back, it appeared to me that I had always been doing so. What had been +the profit of the tongues which I had learnt? had they ever assisted me +in the day of hunger? No, no! it appeared to me that I had always +misspent my time, save in one instance, when by a desperate effort I had +collected all the powers of my imagination, and written the "Life of +Joseph Sell;" but even when I wrote the Life of Sell, was I not in a +false position? Provided I had not misspent my time, would it have been +necessary to make that effort, which, after all, had only enabled me to +leave London, and wander about the country for a time? But could I, +taking all circumstances into consideration, have done better than I had? +With my peculiar temperament and ideas, could I have pursued with +advantage the profession to which my respectable parents had endeavoured +to bring me up? It appeared to me that I could not, and that the hand of +necessity had guided me from my earliest years, until the present night, +in which I found myself seated in the dingle, staring on the brands of +the fire. But ceasing to think of the past which, as irrecoverably gone, +it was useless to regret, even were there cause to regret it, what should +I do in future? Should I write another book like the Life of Joseph +Sell; take it to London, and offer it to a publisher? But when I +reflected on the grisly sufferings which I had undergone whilst engaged +in writing the Life of Sell, I shrank from the idea of a similar attempt; +moreover, I doubted whether I possessed the power to write a similar +work--whether the materials for the life of another Sell lurked within +the recesses of my brain? Had I not better become in reality what I had +hitherto been merely playing at--a tinker or a gypsy? But I soon saw +that I was not fitted to become either in reality. It was much more +agreeable to play the gypsy or the tinker than to become either in +reality. I had seen enough of gypsying and tinkering to be convinced of +that. All of a sudden the idea of tilling the soil came into my head; +tilling the soil was a healthful and noble pursuit! but my idea of +tilling the soil had no connection with Britain; for I could only expect +to till the soil in Britain as a serf. I thought of tilling it in +America, in which it was said there was plenty of wild, unclaimed land, +of which any one, who chose to clear it of its trees, might take +possession. I figured myself in America, in an immense forest, clearing +the land destined, by my exertions, to become a fruitful and smiling +plain. Methought I heard the crash of the huge trees as they fell +beneath my axe; and then I bethought me that a man was intended to +marry--I ought to marry; and if I married, where was I likely to be more +happy as a husband and a father than in America, engaged in tilling the +ground? I fancied myself in America, engaged in tilling the ground, +assisted by an enormous progeny. Well, why not marry, and go and till +the ground in America? I was young, and youth was the time to marry in, +and to labour in. I had the use of all my faculties; my eyes, it is +true, were rather dull from early study, and from writing the Life of +Joseph Sell; but I could see tolerably well with them, and they were not +bleared. I felt my arms, and thighs, and teeth--they were strong and +sound enough; so now was the time to labour, to marry, eat strong flesh, +and beget strong children--the power of doing all this would pass away +with youth, which was terribly transitory. I bethought me that a time +would come when my eyes would be bleared, and, perhaps, sightless; my +arms and thighs strengthless and sapless; when my teeth would shake in my +jaws, even supposing they did not drop out. No going a wooing then--no +labouring--no eating strong flesh, and begetting lusty children then; and +I bethought me how, when all this should be, I should bewail the days of +my youth as misspent, provided I had not in them founded for myself a +home, and begotten strong children to take care of me in the days when I +could not take care of myself; and thinking of these things, I became +sadder and sadder, and stared vacantly upon the fire till my eyes closed +in a doze. + +I continued dozing over the fire, until rousing myself I perceived that +the brands were nearly consumed, and I thought of retiring for the night. +I arose, and was about to enter my tent, when a thought struck me. +"Suppose," thought I, "that Isopel Berners should return in the midst of +the night, how dark and dreary would the dingle appear without a fire! +truly, I will keep up the fire, and I will do more; I have no board to +spread for her, but I will fill the kettle, and heat it, so that, if she +comes, I may be able to welcome her with a cup of tea, for I know she +loves tea." Thereupon, I piled more wood upon the fire, and soon +succeeded in procuring a better blaze than before; then, taking the +kettle, I set out for the spring. On arriving at the mouth of the +dingle, which fronted the east, I perceived that Charles's wain was +nearly opposite to it, high above in the heavens, by which I knew that +the night was tolerably well advanced. The gypsy encampment lay before +me; all was hushed and still within it, and its inmates appeared to be +locked in slumber; as I advanced, however, the dogs, which were fastened +outside the tents, growled and barked; but presently recognising me, they +were again silent, some of them wagging their tails. As I drew near a +particular tent, I heard a female voice say--"Some one is coming!" and, +as I was about to pass it, the cloth which formed the door was suddenly +lifted up, and a black head and part of a huge naked body protruded. It +was the head and upper part of the giant Tawno, who, according to the +fashion of gypsy men, lay next the door wrapped in his blanket; the +blanket had, however, fallen off, and the starlight shone clear on his +athletic tawny body, and was reflected from his large staring eyes. + +"It is only I, Tawno," said I, "going to fill the kettle, as it is +possible that Miss Berners may arrive this night." "Kos-ko," drawled out +Tawno, and replaced the curtain. "Good, do you call it?" said the sharp +voice of his wife; "there is no good in the matter! if that young chap +were not living with the rawnee in the illegal and uncertificated line, +he would not be getting up in the middle of the night to fill her +kettles." Passing on, I proceeded to the spring, where I filled the +kettle, and then returned to the dingle. + +Placing the kettle upon the fire, I watched it till it began to boil; +then removing it from the top of the brands, I placed it close beside the +fire, and leaving it simmering, I retired to my tent; where, having taken +off my shoes, and a few of my garments, I lay down on my palliasse, and +was not long in falling asleep. I believe I slept soundly for some time, +thinking and dreaming of nothing; suddenly, however, my sleep became +disturbed, and the subject of the patterans began to occupy my brain. I +imagined that I saw Ursula tracing her husband, Launcelot Lovel, by means +of his patterans; I imagined that she had considerable difficulty in +doing so; that she was occasionally interrupted by parish beadles and +constables, who asked her whither she was travelling, to whom she gave +various answers. Presently methought that, as she was passing by a farm- +yard, two fierce and savage dogs flew at her; I was in great trouble, I +remember, and wished to assist her, but could not, for though I seemed to +see her, I was still at a distance: and now it appeared that she had +escaped from the dogs, and was proceeding with her cart along a gravelly +path which traversed a wild moor; I could hear the wheels grating amidst +sand and gravel. The next moment I was awake, and found myself sitting +up in my tent; there was a glimmer of light through the canvas caused by +the fire; a feeling of dread came over me, which was perhaps natural, on +starting suddenly from one's sleep in that wild lone place; I half +imagined that some one was nigh the tent; the idea made me rather +uncomfortable, and, to dissipate it, I lifted up the canvas of the door +and peeped out, and, lo! I had a distinct view of a tall figure standing +by the tent. "Who is that?" said I, whilst I felt my blood rush to my +heart. "It is I," said the voice of Isopel Berners; "you little expected +me, I dare say; well, sleep on, I do not wish to disturb you." "But I +was expecting you," said I, recovering myself, "as you may see by the +fire and kettle. I will be with you in a moment." + +Putting on in haste the articles of dress which I had flung off, I came +out of the tent, and addressing myself to Isopel, who was standing beside +her cart, I said--"just as I was about to retire to rest I thought it +possible that you might come to-night, and got everything in readiness +for you. Now, sit down by the fire whilst I lead the donkey and cart to +the place where you stay; I will unharness the animal, and presently come +and join you." "I need not trouble you," said Isopel; "I will go myself +and see after my things." "We will go together," said I, "and then +return and have some tea." Isopel made no objection, and in about half- +an-hour we had arranged everything at her quarters, I then hastened and +prepared tea. Presently Isopel rejoined me, bringing her stool; she had +divested herself of her bonnet, and her hair fell over her shoulders; she +sat down, and I poured out the beverage, handing her a cup. "Have you +made a long journey to-night?" said I. "A very long one," replied Belle. +"I have come nearly twenty miles since six o'clock." "I believe I heard +you coming in my sleep," said I; "did the dogs above bark at you?" "Yes," +said Isopel, "very violently; did you think of me in your sleep?" "No," +said I, "I was thinking of Ursula and something she had told me." "When +and where was that?" said Isopel. "Yesterday evening," said I, "beneath +the dingle hedge." "Then you were talking with her beneath the hedge?" +"I was," said I, "but only upon gypsy matters. Do you know, Belle, that +she has just been married to Sylvester, so that you need not think that +she and I--" "She and you are quite at liberty to sit where you please," +said Isopel. "However, young man," she continued, dropping her tone, +which she had slightly raised, "I believe what you said, that you were +merely talking about gypsy matters, and also what you were going to say, +if it was, as I suppose, that she and you had no particular +acquaintance." Isopel was now silent for some time. "What are you +thinking of?" said I. "I was thinking," said Belle, "how exceedingly +kind it was of you to get everything in readiness for me, though you did +not know that I should come." "I had a presentiment that you would +come," said I; "but you forget that I have prepared the kettle for you +before, though it was true that I was then certain that you would come." +"I had not forgotten your doing so, young man," said Belle; "but I was +beginning to think that you were utterly selfish, caring for nothing but +the gratification of your own selfish whims." "I am very fond of having +my own way," said I, "but utterly selfish I am not, as I dare say I shall +frequently prove to you. You will often find the kettle boiling when you +come home." "Not heated by you," said Isopel, with a sigh. "By whom +else?" said I; "surely you are not thinking of driving me away?" "You +have as much right here as myself," said Isopel, "as I have told you +before; but I must be going myself." "Well," said I, "we can go +together; to tell you the truth, I am rather tired of this place." "Our +paths must be separate," said Belle. "Separate," said I, "what do you +mean? I shan't let you go alone, I shall go with you; and you know the +road is as free to me as to you; besides, you can't think of parting +company with me, considering how much you would lose by doing so; +remember that you know scarcely anything of the Armenian language; now, +to learn Armenian from me would take you twenty years." + +Belle faintly smiled. "Come," said I, "take another cup of tea." Belle +took another cup of tea, and yet another; we had some indifferent +conversation, after which I arose and gave her donkey a considerable feed +of corn. Belle thanked me, shook me by the hand, and then went to her +own tabernacle, and I returned to mine. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Visit to the Landlord--His Mortifications--Hunter and his +Clan--Resolution. + +On the following morning, after breakfasting with Belle, who was silent +and melancholy, I left her in the dingle, and took a stroll amongst the +neighbouring lanes. After some time I thought I would pay a visit to the +landlord of the public-house, whom I had not seen since the day when he +communicated to me his intention of changing his religion. I therefore +directed my steps to the house, and on entering it found the landlord +standing in the kitchen. Just then two mean-looking fellows, who had +been drinking at one of the tables, and who appeared to be the only +customers in the house, got up, brushed past the landlord, and saying in +a surly tone, we shall pay you some time or other, took their departure. +"That's the way they serve me now," said the landlord, with a sigh. "Do +you know those fellows," I demanded, "since you let them go away in your +debt?" "I know nothing about them," said the landlord, "save that they +are a couple of scamps." "Then why did you let them go away without +paying you?" said I. "I had not the heart to stop them," said the +landlord; "and, to tell you the truth, everybody serves me so now, and I +suppose they are right, for a child could flog me." "Nonsense," said I, +"behave more like a man, and with respect to those two fellows run after +them, I will go with you, and if they refuse to pay the reckoning I will +help you to shake some money out of their clothes." "Thank you," said +the landlord; "but as they are gone, let them go on. What they have +drank is not of much consequence." "What is the matter with you?" said +I, staring at the landlord, who appeared strangely altered; his features +were wild and haggard, his formerly bluff cheeks were considerably sunken +in, and his figure had lost much of its plumpness. "Have you changed +your religion already, and has the fellow in black commanded you to +fast?" "I have not changed my religion yet," said the landlord, with a +kind of shudder; "I am to change it publicly this day fortnight, and the +idea of doing so--I do not mind telling you--preys much upon my mind; +moreover, the noise of the thing has got abroad, and everybody is +laughing at me, and what's more, coming and drinking my beer, and going +away without paying for it, whilst I feel myself like one bewitched, +wishing but not daring to take my own part. Confound the fellow in +black, I wish I had never seen him! yet what can I do without him? The +brewer swears that unless I pay him fifty pounds within a fortnight he'll +send a distress warrant into the house, and take all I have. My poor +niece is crying in the room above; and I am thinking of going into the +stable and hanging myself; and perhaps it's the best thing I can do, for +it's better to hang myself before selling my soul than afterwards, as I'm +sure I should, like Judas Iscariot, whom my poor niece, who is somewhat +religiously inclined, has been talking to me about." "I wish I could +assist you," said I, "with money, but that is quite out of my power. +However, I can give you a piece of advice. Don't change your religion by +any means; you can't hope to prosper if you do; and if the brewer chooses +to deal hardly with you, let him. Everybody would respect you ten times +more provided you allowed yourself to be turned into the roads rather +than change your religion, than if you got fifty pounds for renouncing +it." "I am half inclined to take your advice," said the landlord, "only, +to tell you the truth, I feel quite low, without any heart in me." "Come +into the bar," said I, "and let us have something together--you need not +be afraid of my not paying for what I order." + +We went into the bar-room, where the landlord and I discussed between us +two bottles of strong ale, which he said were part of the last six which +he had in his possession. At first he wished to drink sherry, but I +begged him to do no such thing, telling him that sherry would do him no +good under the present circumstances; nor, indeed, to the best of my +belief, under any, it being of all wines the one for which I entertained +the most contempt. The landlord allowed himself to be dissuaded, and, +after a glass or two of ale, confessed that sherry was a sickly, +disagreeable drink, and that he had merely been in the habit of taking it +from an idea he had that it was genteel. Whilst quaffing our beverage, +he gave me an account of the various mortifications to which he had of +late been subject, dwelling with particular bitterness on the conduct of +Hunter, who he said came every night and mouthed him, and afterwards went +away without paying for what he had drank or smoked, in which conduct he +was closely imitated by a clan of fellows who constantly attended him. +After spending several hours at the public-house I departed, not +forgetting to pay for the two bottles of ale. The landlord, before I +went, shaking me by the hand, declared that he had now made up his mind +to stick to his religion at all hazards, the more especially as he was +convinced he should derive no good by giving it up. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +Preparations for the Fair--The Last Lesson--The Verb Siriel. + +It might be about five in the evening, when I reached the gypsy +encampment. Here I found Mr. Petulengro, Tawno Chikno, Sylvester, and +others in a great bustle, clipping and trimming certain ponies and old +horses which they had brought with them. On inquiring of Jasper the +reason of their being so engaged, he informed me that they were getting +the horses ready for a fair, which was to be held on the morrow, at a +place some miles distant, at which they should endeavour to dispose of +them, adding--"Perhaps, brother, you will go with us, provided you have +nothing better to do?" Not having any particular engagement, I assured +him that I should have great pleasure in being of the party. It was +agreed that we should start early on the following morning. Thereupon I +descended into the dingle. Belle was sitting before the fire, at which +the kettle was boiling. "Were you waiting for me?" I inquired. "Yes," +said Belle, "I thought that you would come, and I waited for you." "That +was very kind," said I. "Not half so kind," said she, "as it was of you +to get everything ready for me in the dead of last night, when there was +scarcely a chance of my coming." The tea-things were brought forward, +and we sat down. "Have you been far?" said Belle. "Merely to that +public-house," said I, "to which you directed me on the second day of our +acquaintance." "Young men should not make a habit of visiting public- +houses," said Belle, "they are bad places." "They may be so to some +people," said I, "but I do not think the worst public-house in England +could do me any harm." "Perhaps you are so bad already," said Belle, +with a smile, "that it would be impossible to spoil you." "How dare you +catch at my words?" said I; "come, I will make you pay for doing so--you +shall have this evening the longest lesson in Armenian which I have yet +inflicted upon you." "You may well say inflicted," said Belle, "but pray +spare me. I do not wish to hear anything about Armenian, especially this +evening." "Why this evening?" said I. Belle made no answer. "I will +not spare you," said I; "this evening I intend to make you conjugate an +Armenian verb." "Well, be it so," said Belle; "for this evening you +shall command." "To command is hramahyel," said I. "Ram her ill, +indeed," said Belle; "I do not wish to begin with that." "No," said I, +"as we have come to the verbs, we will begin regularly; hramahyel is a +verb of the second conjugation. We will begin with the first." "First +of all tell me," said Belle, "what a verb is?" "A part of speech," said +I, "which, according to the dictionary, signifies some action or passion; +for example, I command you, or I hate you." "I have given you no cause +to hate me," said Belle, looking me sorrowfully in the face. + +"I was merely giving two examples," said I, "and neither was directed at +you. In those examples, to command and hate are verbs. Belle, in +Armenian there are four conjugations of verbs; the first ends in al, the +second in yel, the third in oul, and the fourth in il. Now, have you +understood me?" + +"I am afraid, indeed, it will all end ill," said Belle. + +"Hold your tongue," said I, "or you will make me lose my patience." "You +have already made me nearly lose mine," said Belle. "Let us have no +unprofitable interruptions," said I; "the conjugations of the Armenian +verbs are neither so numerous nor so difficult as the declensions of the +nouns; hear that, and rejoice. Come, we will begin with the verb hntal, +a verb of the first conjugation, which signifies to rejoice. Come along; +hntam, I rejoice; hntas, thou rejoicest; why don't you follow, Belle?" + +"I am sure I don't rejoice, whatever you may do," said Belle. "The chief +difficulty, Belle," said I, "that I find in teaching you the Armenian +grammar, proceeds from your applying to yourself and me every example I +give. Rejoice, in this instance, is merely an example of an Armenian +verb of the first conjugation, and has no more to do with your rejoicing +than lal, which is, also a verb of the first conjugation, and which +signifies to weep, would have to do with your weeping, provided I made +you conjugate it. Come along; hntam, I rejoice; hntas, thou rejoicest; +hnta, he rejoices; hntamk we rejoice: now, repeat those words." + +"I can't," said Belle, "they sound more like the language of horses than +human beings. Do you take me for--?" "For what?" said I. Belle was +silent. "Were you going to say mare?" said I. "Mare! mare! by the bye, +do you know, Belle, that mare in old English stands for woman; and that +when we call a female an evil mare, the strict meaning of the term is +merely a bad woman. So if I were to call you a mare without prefixing +bad, you must not be offended." "But I should though," said Belle. "I +was merely attempting to make you acquainted with a philological fact," +said I. "If mare, which in old English, and likewise in vulgar English, +signifies a woman, sounds the same as mare, which in modern and polite +English signifies a female horse, I can't help it. There is no such +confusion of sounds in Armenian, not, at least, in the same instance. +Belle, in Armenian, woman is ghin, the same word, by the by, as our +queen, whereas mare is madagh tzi, which signifies a female horse; and +perhaps you will permit me to add, that a hard-mouthed jade is, in +Armenian, madagh tzi hsdierah." + +"I can't bear this much longer," said Belle. "Keep yourself quiet," said +I; "I wish to be gentle with you; and to convince you, we will skip +hntal, and also for the present verbs of the first conjugation and +proceed to the second. Belle, I will now select for you to conjugate the +prettiest verb in Armenian; not only of the second, but also of all the +four conjugations; that verb is siriel. Here is the present +tense:--siriem, siries, sire, siriemk, sirek, sirien. You observe that +it runs on just in the same manner as hntal, save and except that the e +is substituted for a; and it will be as well to tell you that almost the +only difference between the second, third, and fourth conjugation, and +the first, is the substituting in the present, preterite and other tenses +e or ou, or i for a; so you see that the Armenian verbs are by no means +difficult. Come on, Belle, and say siriem." Belle hesitated. "Pray +oblige me, Belle, by saying siriem!" Belle still appeared to hesitate. +"You must admit, Belle, that it is much softer than hntam." "It is so," +said Belle; "and to oblige you I will say siriem." "Very well indeed, +Belle," said I. "No vartabied, or doctor, could have pronounced it +better; and now, to show you how verbs act upon pronouns in Armenian, I +will say siriem zkiez. Please to repeat siriem zkiez!" "Siriem zkiez!" +said Belle; "that last word is very hard to say." "Sorry that you think +so, Belle," said I. "Now please to say siria zis." Belle did so. +"Exceedingly well," said I. "Now say, yerani the sireir zis." "Yerani +the sireir zis," said Belle. "Capital!" said I; "you have now said, I +love you--love me--ah! would that you would love me!" + +"And I have said all these things?" said Belle. "Yes," said I; "you have +said them in Armenian." "I would have said them in no language that I +understood," said Belle; "and it was very wrong of you to take advantage +of my ignorance, and make me say such things." "Why so?" said I; "if you +said them, I said them too." "You did so," said Belle; "but I believe +you were merely bantering and jeering." "As I told you before, Belle," +said I, "the chief difficulty which I find in teaching you Armenian +proceeds from your persisting in applying to yourself and me every +example I give." "Then you meant nothing after all," said Belle, raising +her voice. "Let us proceed," said I; "sirietsi, I loved." "You never +loved any one but yourself," said Belle; "and what's more--" "Sirietsits, +I will love," said I; "sirietsies, thou wilt love." "Never one so +thoroughly heartless," said Belle. "I tell you what, Belle, you are +becoming intolerable, but we will change the verb; or rather I will now +proceed to tell you here, that some of the Armenian conjugations have +their anomalies; one species of these I wish to bring before your notice. +As old Villotte says--from whose work I first contrived to pick up the +rudiments of Armenian--'Est verborum transitivorum, quorum infinitivus--' +but I forgot, you don't understand Latin. He says there are certain +transitive verbs, whose infinitive is in outsaniel; the preterite in +outsi; the imperative in one; for example--parghatsout-saniem, I +irritate--" + +"You do, you do," said Belle; "and it will be better for both of us, if +you leave off doing so." + +"You would hardly believe, Belle," said I, "that the Armenian is in some +respects closely connected with the Irish, but so it is; for example, +that word parghatsout-saniem is evidently derived from the same root as +feargaim, which, in Irish, is as much as to say I vex." + +"You do, indeed," said Belle, sobbing. + +"But how do you account for it?" + +"O man, man!" said Belle, bursting into tears, "for what purpose do you +ask a poor ignorant girl such a question, unless it be to vex and +irritate her? If you wish to display your learning, do so to the wise +and instructed, and not to me, who can scarcely read or write. Oh, leave +off your nonsense; yet I know you will not do so, for it is the breath of +your nostrils! I could have wished we should have parted in kindness, +but you will not permit it. I have deserved better at your hands than +such treatment. The whole time we have kept company together in this +place, I have scarcely had one kind word from you, but the strangest--" +and here the voice of Belle was drowned in her sobs. + +"I am sorry to see you take on so, dear Belle," said I. "I really have +given you no cause to be so unhappy; surely teaching you a little +Armenian was a very innocent kind of diversion." + +"Yes, but you went on so long, and in such a strange way, and made me +repeat such strange examples, as you call them, that I could not bear +it." + +"Why, to tell you the truth, Belle, it's just my way; and I have dealt +with you just as I would with--" + +"A hard-mouthed jade," said Belle, "and you practising your +horse-witchery upon her. I have been of an unsubdued spirit, I +acknowledge, but I was always kind to you; and if you have made me cry, +it's a poor thing to boast of." + +"Boast of!" said I; "a pretty thing indeed to boast of; I had no idea of +making you cry. Come, I beg your pardon; what more can I do? Come, +cheer up, Belle. You were talking of parting; don't let us part, but +depart, and that together." + +"Our ways lie different," said Belle. + +"I don't see why they should," said I. "Come, let us be off to America +together." + +"To America together?" said Belle, looking full at me. + +"Yes," said I; "where we will settle down in some forest, and conjugate +the verb siriel conjugally." + +"Conjugally?" said Belle. + +"Yes," said I; "as man and wife in America, air yew ghin." + +"You are jesting, as usual," said Belle. + +"Not I, indeed. Come, Belle, make up your mind, and let us be off to +America; and leave priests, humbug, learning, and languages behind us." + +"I don't think you are jesting," said Belle; "but I can hardly entertain +your offers; however, young man, I thank you." + +"You had better make up your mind at once," said I, "and let us be off. I +shan't make a bad husband, I assure you. Perhaps you think I am not +worthy of you? To convince you, Belle, that I am, I am ready to try a +fall with you this moment upon the grass. Brynhilda, the valkyrie, swore +that no one should ever marry her who could not fling her down. Perhaps +you have done the same. The man who eventually married her, got a friend +of his, who was called Sygurd, the serpent-killer, to wrestle with her, +disguising him in his own armour. Sygurd flung her down, and won her for +his friend, though he loved her himself. I shall not use a similar +deceit, nor employ Jasper Petulengro to personate me--so get up, Belle, +and I will do my best to fling you down." + +"I require no such thing of you, or anybody," said Belle; "you are +beginning to look rather wild." + +"I every now and then do," said I; "come, Belle, what do you say?" + +"I will say nothing at present on the subject," said Belle, "I must have +time to consider." + +"Just as you please," said I, "to-morrow I go to a fair with Mr. +Petulengro, perhaps you will consider whilst I am away. Come, Belle, let +us have some more tea. I wonder whether we shall be able to procure tea +as good as this in the American forest." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +The Dawn of Day--The Last Farewell--Departure for the Fair--The Fine +Horse--Return to the Dingle--No Isopel. + +It was about the dawn of day when I was awakened by the voice of Mr. +Petulengro shouting from the top of the dingle, and bidding me get up. I +arose instantly, and dressed myself for the expedition to the fair. On +leaving my tent, I was surprised to observe Belle, entirely dressed, +standing close to her own little encampment. "Dear me," said I, "I +little expected to find you up so early. I suppose Jasper's call +awakened you, as it did me." "I merely lay down in my things," said +Belle, "and have not slept during the night." "And why did you not take +off your things and go to sleep?" said I. "I did not undress," said +Belle, "because I wished to be in readiness to bid you farewell when you +departed; and as for sleeping, I could not." "Well, God bless you!" said +I, taking Belle by the hand. Belle made no answer, and I observed that +her hand was very cold. "What is the matter with you?" said I, looking +her in the face. Belle looked at me for a moment in the eyes--and then +cast down her own--her features were very pale. "You are really unwell," +said I, "I had better not go to the fair, but stay here, and take care of +you." "No," said Belle, "pray go, I am not unwell." "Then go to your +tent," said I, "and do not endanger your health by standing abroad in the +raw morning air. God bless you, Belle. I shall be home to-night, by +which time I expect you will have made up your mind; if not, another +lesson in Armenian, however late the hour be." I then wrung Belle's +hand, and ascended to the plain above. + +I found the Romany party waiting for me, and everything in readiness for +departing. Mr. Petulengro and Tawno Chikno were mounted on two old +horses. The rest, who intended to go to the fair, amongst whom were two +or three women, were on foot. On arriving at the extremity of the plain, +I looked towards the dingle. Isopel Berners stood at the mouth, the +beams of the early morning sun shone full on her noble face and figure. I +waved my hand towards her. She slowly lifted up her right arm. I turned +away, and never saw Isopel Berners again. + +My companions and myself proceeded on our way. In about two hours we +reached the place where the fair was to be held. After breakfasting on +bread and cheese and ale behind a broken stone wall, we drove our animals +to the fair. The fair was a common cattle and horse fair: there was +little merriment going on, but there was no lack of business. By about +two o'clock in the afternoon, Mr. Petulengro and his people had disposed +of their animals at what they conceived very fair prices--they were all +in high spirits, and Jasper proposed to adjourn to a public-house. As we +were proceeding to one, a very fine horse, led by a jockey, made its +appearance on the ground. Mr. Petulengro stopped short, and looked at it +stedfastly: "Fino covar dove odoy sas miro--a fine thing were that if it +were but mine!" he exclaimed. "If you covet it," said I, "why do you not +purchase it?" "We low 'Gyptians never buy animals of that description; +if we did we could never sell them, and most likely should be had up as +horse-stealers." "Then why did you say just now, 'It were a fine thing +if it were but yours?'" said I. "We 'Gyptians always say so when we see +anything that we admire. An animal like that is not intended for a +little hare like me, but for some grand gentleman like yourself. I say, +brother, do you buy that horse!" "How should I buy the horse, you +foolish person?" said I. "Buy the horse, brother," said Mr. Petulengro, +"if you have not the money I can lend it you, though I be of lower +Egypt." "You talk nonsense," said I; "however, I wish you would ask the +man the price of it." Mr. Petulengro, going up to the jockey, inquired +the price of the horse--the man, looking at him scornfully, made no +reply. "Young man," said I, going up to the jockey, "do me the favour to +tell me the price of that horse, as I suppose it is to sell." The +jockey, who was a surly-looking man, of about fifty, looked at me for a +moment, then, after some hesitation, said, laconically, "Seventy." "Thank +you," said I, and turned away. "Buy that horse," said Mr. Petulengro, +coming after me; "the dook tells me that in less than three months he +will be sold for twice seventy." "I will have nothing to do with him," +said I; "besides, Jasper, I don't like his tail. Did you observe what a +mean scrubby tail he has?" "What a fool you are, brother," said Mr. +Petulengro; "that very tail of his shows his breeding. No good bred +horse ever yet carried a fine tail--'tis your scrubby-tailed horses that +are your out-and-outers. Did you ever hear of Syntax, brother? That +tail of his puts me in mind of Syntax. Well, I say nothing more, have +your own way--all I wonder at is, that a horse like him was ever brought +to such a fair of dog cattle as this." + +We then made the best of our way to a public-house, where we had some +refreshment. I then proposed returning to the encampment, but Mr. +Petulengro declined, and remained drinking with his companions till about +six o'clock in the evening, when various jockeys from the fair came in. +After some conversation a jockey proposed a game of cards; and in a +little time, Mr. Petulengro and another gypsy sat down to play a game of +cards with two of the jockeys. + +Though not much acquainted with cards, I soon conceived a suspicion that +the jockeys were cheating Mr. Petulengro and his companion, I therefore +called Mr. Petulengro aside, and gave him a hint to that effect. Mr. +Petulengro, however, instead of thanking me, told me to mind my own bread +and butter, and forthwith returned to his game. I continued watching the +players for some hours. The gypsies lost considerably, and I saw clearly +that the jockeys were cheating them most confoundedly. I therefore once +more called Mr. Petulengro aside, and told him that the jockeys were +cheating him, conjuring him to return to the encampment. Mr. Petulengro, +who was by this time somewhat the worse for liquor, now fell into a +passion, swore several oaths, and asking me who had made me a Moses over +him and his brethren, told me to return to the encampment by myself. +Incensed at the unworthy return which my well-meant words had received, I +forthwith left the house, and having purchased a few articles of +provision, I set out for the dingle alone. It was a dark night when I +reached it, and descending I saw the glimmer of a fire from the depths of +the dingle; my heart beat with fond anticipation of a welcome. "Isopel +Berners is waiting for me," said I, "and the first words that I shall +hear from her lips is that she has made up her mind. We shall go to +America, and be so happy together." On reaching the bottom of the +dingle, however, I saw seated near the fire, beside which stood the +kettle simmering, not Isopel Berners, but a gypsy girl, who told me that +Miss Berners when she went away had charged her to keep up the fire, and +have the kettle boiling against my arrival. Startled at these words, I +inquired at what hour Isopel had left, and whither she was gone, and was +told that she had left the dingle, with her cart, about two hours after I +departed; but where she was gone she, the girl, did not know. I then +asked whether she had left no message, and the girl replied that she had +left none, but had merely given directions about the kettle and fire, +putting, at the same time, six-pence into her hand. "Very strange," +thought I; then dismissing the gypsy girl I sat down by the fire. I had +no wish for tea, but sat looking on the embers, wondering what could be +the motive of the sudden departure of Isopel. "Does she mean to return?" +thought I to myself. "Surely she means to return," Hope replied, "or she +would not have gone away without leaving any message"--"and yet she could +scarcely mean to return," muttered Foreboding, "or she assuredly would +have left some message with the girl." I then thought to myself what a +hard thing it would be, if, after having made up my mind to assume the +yoke of matrimony, I should be disappointed of the woman of my choice. +"Well, after all," thought I, "I can scarcely be disappointed; if such an +ugly scoundrel as Sylvester had no difficulty in getting such a nice wife +as Ursula, surely I, who am not a tenth part so ugly, cannot fail to +obtain the hand of Isopel Berners, uncommonly fine damsel though she be. +Husbands do not grow upon hedgerows; she is merely gone after a little +business and will return to-morrow." + +Comforted in some degree by these hopeful imaginings, I retired to my +tent, and went to sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +Gloomy Forebodings--The Postman's Mother--The Letter--Bears and +Barons--The Best of Advice. + +Nothing occurred to me of any particular moment during the following day. +Isopel Berners did not return; but Mr. Petulengro and his companions came +home from the fair early in the morning. When I saw him, which was about +midday, I found him with his face bruised and swelled. It appeared that, +some time after I had left him, he himself perceived that the jockeys +with whom he was playing cards were cheating him and his companion; a +quarrel ensued, which terminated in a fight between Mr. Petulengro and +one of the jockeys, which lasted some time, and in which Mr. Petulengro, +though he eventually came off victor, was considerably beaten. His +bruises, in conjunction with his pecuniary loss, which amounted to about +seven pounds, were the cause of his being much out of humour; before +night, however, he had returned to his usual philosophic frame of mind, +and, coming up to me as I was walking about, apologized for his behaviour +on the preceding day, and assured me that he was determined, from that +time forward, never to quarrel with a friend for giving him good advice. + +Two more days passed, and still Isopel Berners did not return. Gloomy +thoughts and forebodings filled my mind. During the day I wandered about +the neighbouring roads in the hopes of catching an early glimpse of her +and her returning vehicle; and at night lay awake, tossing about on my +hard couch, listening to the rustle of every leaf, and occasionally +thinking that I heard the sound of her wheels upon the distant road. Once +at midnight, just as I was about to fall into unconsciousness, I suddenly +started up, for I was convinced that I heard the sound of wheels. I +listened most anxiously, and the sound of wheels striking against stones +was certainly plain enough. "She comes at last," thought I, and for a +few moments I felt as if a mountain had been removed from my +breast;--"here she comes at last, now, how shall I receive her? Oh," +thought I, "I will receive her rather coolly, just as if I was not +particularly anxious about her--that's the way to manage these women." +The next moment the sound became very loud, rather too loud, I thought, +to proceed from her wheels, and then by degrees became fainter. Rushing +out of my tent, I hurried up the path to the top of the dingle, where I +heard the sound distinctly enough, but it was going from me, and +evidently proceeded from something much larger than the cart of Isopel. I +could, moreover, hear the stamping of a horse's hoof at a lumbering trot. +Those only whose hopes have been wrought up to a high pitch, and then +suddenly cast down, can imagine what I felt at that moment; and yet when +I returned to my lonely tent, and lay down on my hard pallet, the voice +of conscience told me that the misery I was then undergoing I had fully +merited, for the unkind manner in which I had intended to receive her, +when for a brief moment I supposed that she had returned. + +It was on the morning after this affair, and the fourth, if I forget not, +from the time of Isopel's departure, that, as I was seated on my stone at +the bottom of the dingle, getting my breakfast, I heard an unknown voice +from the path above--apparently that of a person descending--exclaim, +"Here's a strange place to bring a letter to;" and presently an old +woman, with a belt round her middle, to which was attached a leathern +bag, made her appearance, and stood before me. + +"Well, if I ever!" said she, as she looked about her. "My good +gentlewoman," said I, "pray what may you please to want?" "Gentlewoman!" +said the old dame, "please to want--well, I call that speaking civilly, +at any rate. It is true, civil words cost nothing; nevertheless, we do +not always get them. What I please to want is to deliver a letter to a +young man in this place; perhaps you be he?" "What's the name on the +letter?" said I, getting up, and going to her. "There's no name upon +it," said she, taking a letter out of her scrip, and looking at it. "It +is directed to the young man in Mumper's Dingle." "Then it is for me, I +make no doubt," said I, stretching out my hand to take it. "Please to +pay me ninepence first," said the old woman. "However," said she, after +a moment's thought, "civility is civility, and, being rather a scarce +article, should meet with some return. Here's the letter, young man, and +I hope you will pay for it; for if you do not I must pay the postage +myself." "You are the postwoman, I suppose," said I, as I took the +letter. "I am the postman's mother," said the old woman; "but as he has +a wide beat, I help him as much as I can, and I generally carry letters +to places like this, to which he is afraid to come himself." "You say +the postage is ninepence," said I, "here's a shilling." "Well, I call +that honourable," said the old woman, taking the shilling, and putting it +into her pocket--"here's your change, young man," said she, offering me +threepence. "Pray keep that for yourself," said I; "you deserve it for +your trouble." "Well, I call that genteel," said the old woman; "and as +one good turn deserves another, since you look as if you couldn't read, I +will read your letter for you. Let's see it; it's from some young woman +or other, I dare say." "Thank you," said I, "but I can read." "All the +better for you," said the old woman; "your being able to read will +frequently save you a penny, for that's the charge I generally make for +reading letters; though, as you behaved so genteelly to me, I should have +charged you nothing. Well, if you can read, why don't you open the +letter, instead of keeping it hanging between your finger and thumb?" "I +am in no hurry to open it," said I, with a sigh. The old woman looked at +me for a moment--"Well, young man," said she, "there are some--especially +those who can read--who don't like to open their letters when anybody is +by, more especially when they come from young women. Well, I won't +intrude upon you, but leave you alone with your letter. I wish it may +contain something pleasant. God bless you," and with these words she +departed. + +I sat down on my stone, with my letter in my hand. I knew perfectly well +that it could have come from no other person than Isopel Berners; but +what did the letter contain? I guessed tolerably well what its purport +was--an eternal farewell! yet I was afraid to open the letter, lest my +expectation should be confirmed. There I sat with the letter, putting +off the evil moment as long as possible. At length I glanced at the +direction, which was written in a fine bold hand, and was directed, as +the old woman had said, to the young man in "Mumpers' Dingle," with the +addition, near ---, in the county of-- Suddenly the idea occurred to me, +that, after all, the letter might not contain an eternal farewell; and +that Isopel might have written, requesting me to join her. Could it be +so? "Alas! no," presently said Foreboding. At last I became ashamed of +my weakness. The letter must be opened sooner or later. Why not at +once? So as the bather who, for a considerable time, has stood shivering +on the bank, afraid to take the decisive plunge, suddenly takes it, I +tore open the letter almost before I was aware. I had no sooner done so +than a paper fell out. I examined it; it contained a lock of bright +flaxen hair. "This is no good sign," said I, as I thrust the lock and +paper into my bosom, and proceeded to read the letter, which ran as +follows:-- + + "TO THE YOUNG MAN IN MUMPERS' DINGLE. + + "SIR,--I send these lines, with the hope and trust that they will find + you well, even as I am myself at this moment, and in much better + spirits, for my own are not such as I could wish they were, being + sometimes rather hysterical and vapourish, and at other times, and + most often, very low. I am at a sea-port, and am just going on + shipboard; and when you get these I shall be on the salt waters, on my + way to a distant country, and leaving my own behind me, which I do not + expect ever to see again. + + "And now, young man, I will, in the first place, say something about + the manner in which I quitted you. It must have seemed somewhat + singular to you that I went away without taking any leave, or giving + you the slightest hint that I was going; but I did not do so without + considerable reflection. I was afraid that I should not be able to + support a leave-taking; and as you had said that you were determined + to go wherever I did, I thought it best not to tell you at all; for I + did not think it advisable that you should go with me, and I wished to + have no dispute. + + "In the second place, I wish to say something about an offer of + wedlock which you made me; perhaps, young man, had you made it at the + first period of our acquaintance, I should have accepted it, but you + did not, and kept putting off and putting off, and behaving in a very + strange manner, till I could stand your conduct no longer, but + determined upon leaving you and Old England, which last step I had + been long thinking about; so when you made your offer at last, + everything was arranged--my cart and donkey engaged to be sold--and + the greater part of my things disposed of. However, young man, when + you did make it, I frankly tell you that I had half a mind to accept + it; at last, however, after very much consideration, I thought it best + to leave you for ever, because, for some time past, I had become + almost convinced, that though with a wonderful deal of learning, and + exceedingly shrewd in some things, you were--pray don't be offended--at + the root mad! and though mad people, I have been told, sometimes make + very good husbands, I was unwilling that your friends, if you had any, + should say that Belle Berners, the workhouse girl, took advantage of + your infirmity; for there is no concealing that I was born and bred up + in a workhouse; notwithstanding that, my blood is better than your + own, and as good as the best; you having yourself told me that my name + is a noble name, and once, if I mistake not, that it was the same word + as baron, which is the same thing as bear; and that to be called in + old times a bear was considered a great compliment--the bear being a + mighty strong animal, on which account our forefathers called all + their great fighting-men barons, which is the same as bears. + + "However, setting matters of blood and family entirely aside, many + thanks to you, young man, from poor Belle, for the honour you did her + in making that same offer; for, after all, it is an honour to receive + an honourable offer, which she could see clearly yours was, with no + floriness nor chaff in it; but, on the contrary, entire sincerity. She + assures you that she shall always bear it and yourself in mind, + whether on land or water; and as a proof of the good-will she bears to + you, she sends you a lock of the hair which she wears on her head, + which you were often looking at, and were pleased to call flax, which + word she supposes you meant as a compliment, even as the old people + meant to pass a compliment to their great folks, when they called them + bears; though she cannot help thinking that they might have found an + animal as strong as a bear, and somewhat less uncouth, to call their + great folks after: even as she thinks yourself, amongst your great + store of words, might have found something a little more genteel to + call her hair after than flax, which, though strong and useful, is + rather a coarse and common kind of article. + + "And as another proof of the good-will she bears to you, she sends + you, along with the lock, a piece of advice, which is worth all the + hair in the world, to say nothing of the flax. + + "_Fear God_, and take your own part. There's Bible in that, young + man: see how Moses feared God, and how he took his own part against + everybody who meddled with him. And see how David feared God, and + took his own part against all the bloody enemies which surrounded + him--so fear God, young man, and never give in! The world can bully, + and is fond, provided it sees a man in a kind of difficulty, of + getting about him, calling him coarse names, and even going so far as + to hustle him: but the world, like all bullies, carries a white + feather in its tail, and no sooner sees the man taking off his coat, + and offering to fight its best, than it scatters here and there, and + is always civil to him afterwards. So when folks are disposed to ill- + treat you, young man, say, 'Lord have mercy upon me!' and then tip + them to Long Melford, which, as the saying goes, there is nothing + comparable for shortness all the world over; and these last words, + young man, are the last you will ever have from her who is + nevertheless, + + "Your affectionate female servant, + "ISOPEL BERNERS." + +After reading the letter I sat for some time motionless, holding it in my +hand. The daydream in which I had been a little time before indulging, +of marrying Isopel Berners, of going with her to America, and having by +her a large progeny, who were to assist me in felling trees, cultivating +the soil, and who would take care of me when I was old, was now +thoroughly dispelled. Isopel had deserted me, and was gone to America by +herself, where, perhaps, she would marry some other person, and would +bear him a progeny, who would do for him what in my dream I had hoped my +progeny by her would do for me. Then the thought came into my head that +though she was gone, I might follow her to America, but then I thought +that if I did I might not find her; America was a very large place, and I +did not know the port to which she was bound; but I could follow her to +the port from which she had sailed, and there possibly discover the port +to which she was bound; but I did not even know the port from which she +had set out, for Isopel had not dated her letter from any place. Suddenly +it occurred to me that the post-mark on the letter would tell me from +whence it came, so I forthwith looked at the back of the letter, and in +the post-mark read the name of a well-known and not very distant +sea-port. I then knew with tolerable certainty the port where she had +embarked, and I almost determined to follow her, but I almost instantly +determined to do no such thing. Isopel Berners had abandoned me, and I +would not follow her; "Perhaps," whispered Pride, "if I overtook her, she +would only despise me for running after her;" and it also told me pretty +roundly, provided I ran after her, whether I overtook her or not, I +should heartily despise myself. So I determined not to follow Isopel +Berners; I took her lock of hair, and looked at it, then put it in her +letter, which I folded up and carefully stowed away, resolved to keep +both for ever, but I determined not to follow her. Two or three times, +however, during the day, I wavered in my determination, and was again and +again almost tempted to follow her, but every succeeding time the +temptation was fainter. In the evening I left the dingle, and sat down +with Mr. Petulengro and his family by the door of his tent; Mr. +Petulengro soon began talking of the letter which I had received in the +morning. "Is it not from Miss Berners, brother?" said he. I told him it +was. "Is she coming back, brother?" "Never," said I; "she is gone to +America, and has deserted me." "I always knew that you two were never +destined for each other," said he. "How did you know that?" I inquired. +"The dook told me so, brother; you are born to be a great traveller." +"Well," said I, "if I had gone with her to America, as I was thinking of +doing, I should have been a great traveller." "You are to travel in +another direction, brother," said he. "I wish you would tell me all +about my future wanderings," said I. "I can't, brother," said Mr. +Petulengro, "there's a power of clouds before my eye." "You are a poor +seer, after all," said I; and getting up, I retired to my dingle and my +tent, where I betook myself to my bed, and there, knowing the worst, and +being no longer agitated by apprehension, nor agonized by expectation, I +was soon buried in a deep slumber, the first which I had fallen into for +several nights. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +The Public-house--Landlord on His Legs Again--A Blow in Season--The Way +of the World--The Grateful Mind--The Horse's Neigh. + +It was rather late on the following morning when I awoke. At first I was +almost unconscious of what had occurred on the preceding day; +recollection, however, by degrees returned, and I felt a deep melancholy +coming over me, but perfectly aware that no advantage could be derived +from the indulgence of such a feeling, I sprang up, prepared my +breakfast, which I ate with a tolerable appetite, and then left the +dingle, and betook myself to the gypsy encampment, where I entered into +discourse with various Romanies, both male and female. After some time, +feeling myself in better spirits, I determined to pay another visit to +the landlord of the public-house. From the position of his affairs when +I had last visited him I entertained rather gloomy ideas with respect to +his present circumstances. I imagined that I should either find him +alone in his kitchen smoking a wretched pipe, or in company with some +surly bailiff or his follower, whom his friend the brewer had sent into +the house in order to take possession of his effects. + +Nothing more entirely differing from either of these anticipations could +have presented itself to my view than what I saw about one o'clock in the +afternoon, when I entered the house. I had come, though somewhat in want +of consolation myself, to offer any consolation which was at my command +to my acquaintance Catchpole, and perhaps like many other people who go +to a house with "drops of compassion trembling on their eyelids," I felt +rather disappointed at finding that no compassion was necessary. The +house was thronged with company, and cries for ale and porter, hot brandy +and water, cold gin and water, were numerous; moreover, no desire to +receive and not to pay for the landlord's liquids was manifested--on the +contrary, everybody seemed disposed to play the most honourable part: +"Landlord, here's the money for this glass of brandy and water--do me the +favour to take it; all right, remember I have paid you." "Landlord, +here's the money for the pint of half-and-half-fourpence halfpenny, ain't +it?--here's sixpence; keep the change--confound the change!" The +landlord, assisted by his niece, bustled about; his brow erect, his +cheeks plumped out, and all his features exhibiting a kind of surly +satisfaction. Wherever he moved, marks of the most cordial amity were +shown him, hands were thrust out to grasp his, nor were looks of respect, +admiration, nay, almost of adoration, wanting. I observed one fellow, as +the landlord advanced, take the pipe out of his mouth, and gaze upon him +with a kind of grin of wonder, probably much the same as his ancestor, +the Saxon lout of old, put on when he saw his idol Thur, dressed in a new +kirtle. To avoid the press, I got into a corner, where on a couple of +chairs sat two respectable-looking individuals, whether farmers or sow- +gelders, I know not, but highly respectable-looking, who were discoursing +about the landlord. "Such another," said one, "you will not find in a +summer's day." "No, nor in the whole of England," said the other. "Tom +of Hopton," said the first: "ah! Tom of Hopton," echoed the other; "the +man who could beat Tom of Hopton could beat the world." "I glory in +him," said the first. "So do I," said the second, "I'll back him against +the world. Let me hear any one say anything against him, and if I +don't--" then, looking at me, he added, "have you anything to say against +him, young man?" "Not a word," said I, "save that he regularly puts me +out." "He'll put any one out," said the man, "any one out of conceit +with himself;" then, lifting a mug to his mouth, he added, with a +hiccough, "I drink his health." Presently the landlord, as he moved +about, observing me, stopped short: "Ah!" said he, "are you here? I am +glad to see you, come this way. Stand back," said he to his company, as +I followed him to the bar, "stand back for me and this gentleman." Two +or three young fellows were in the bar, seemingly sporting yokels, +drinking sherry and smoking. "Come, gentlemen," said the landlord, +"clear the bar, I must have a clear bar for me and my friend here." +"Landlord, what will you take," said one, "a glass of sherry? I know you +like it." "- sherry and you too," said the landlord, "I want neither +sherry nor yourself; didn't you hear what I told you?" "All right, old +fellow," said the other, shaking the landlord by the hand, "all right, +don't wish to intrude--but I suppose when you and your friend have done, +I may come in again;" then, with a "sarvant, sir," to me, he took himself +into the kitchen, followed by the rest of the sporting yokels. + +Thereupon the landlord, taking a bottle of ale from a basket, uncorked +it, and pouring the contents into two large glasses, handed me one, and +motioning me to sit down, placed himself by me; then, emptying his own +glass at a draught, he gave a kind of grunt of satisfaction, and fixing +his eyes upon the opposite side of the bar, remained motionless, without +saying a word, buried apparently in important cogitations. With respect +to myself, I swallowed my ale more leisurely, and was about to address my +friend, when his niece, coming into the bar, said that more and more +customers were arriving, and how she should supply their wants she did +not know, unless her uncle would get and help her. + +"The customers!" said the landlord, "let the scoundrels wait till you +have time to serve them, or till I have leisure to see after them." "The +kitchen won't contain half of them," said his niece. "Then let them sit +out abroad," said the landlord. "But there are not benches enough, +uncle," said the niece. "Then let them stand or sit on the ground," said +the uncle, "what care I; I'll let them know that the man who beat Tom of +Hopton stands as well again on his legs as ever." Then opening a side +door which led from the bar into the back yard, he beckoned me to follow +him. "You treat your customers in rather a cavalier manner," said I, +when we were alone together in the yard. + +"Don't I?" said the landlord; "and I'll treat them more so yet; now I +have got the whiphand of the rascals I intend to keep it. I dare say you +are a bit surprised with regard to the change which has come over things +since you were last here. I'll tell you how it happened. You remember +in what a desperate condition you found me, thinking of changing my +religion, selling my soul to the man in black, and then going and hanging +myself like Pontius Pilate; and I dare say you can't have forgotten how +you gave me good advice, made me drink ale, and give up sherry. Well, +after you were gone, I felt all the better for your talk, and what you +had made me drink, and it was a mercy that I did feel better; for my +niece was gone out, poor thing, and I was left alone in the house, +without a soul to look at, or to keep me from doing myself a mischief in +case I was so inclined. Well, things wore on in this way till it grew +dusk, when in came that blackguard Hunter with his train to drink at my +expense, and to insult me as usual; there were more than a dozen of them, +and a pretty set they looked. Well, they ordered about in a very free +and easy manner for upwards of an hour and a half, occasionally sneering +and jeering at me, as they had been in the habit of doing for some time +past; so, as I said before, things wore on, and other customers came in, +who, though they did not belong to Hunter's gang, also passed off their +jokes upon me; for, as you perhaps know, we English are a set of low +hounds, who will always take part with the many by way of making +ourselves safe, and currying favour with the stronger side. I said +little or nothing, for my spirits had again become very low, and I was +verily scared and afraid. All of a sudden I thought of the ale which I +had drank in the morning, and of the good it did me then, so I went into +the bar, opened another bottle, took a glass, and felt better; so I took +another, and feeling better still, I went back into the kitchen, just as +Hunter and his crew were about leaving. 'Mr. Hunter,' said I, 'you and +your people will please to pay me for what you have had?' 'What do you +mean by my people?' said he, with an oath. 'Ah, what do you mean by +calling us his people?' said the clan. 'We are nobody's people;' and +then there was a pretty load of abuse, and threatening to serve me out. +'Well,' said I, 'I was perhaps wrong to call them your people, and beg +your pardon and theirs. And now you will please to pay me for what you +have had yourself, and afterwards I can settle with them.' 'I shall pay +you when I think fit,' said Hunter. 'Yes,' said the rest, 'and so shall +we. We shall pay you when we think fit.' 'I tell you what,' said +Hunter, 'I conceives I do such an old fool as you an honour when I comes +into his house and drinks his beer, and goes away without paying for it;' +and then there was a roar of laughter from everybody, and almost all said +the same thing. 'Now do you please to pay me, Mr. Hunter?' said I. 'Pay +you!' said Hunter; 'pay you! Yes, here's the pay;' and thereupon he held +out his thumb, twirling it round till it just touched my nose. I can't +tell you what I felt that moment; a kind of madhouse thrill came upon me, +and all I know is, that I bent back as far as I could, then lunging out, +struck him under the ear, sending him reeling two or three yards, when he +fell on the floor. I wish you had but seen how my company looked at me +and at each other. One or two of the clan went to raise Hunter, and get +him to fight, but it was no go; though he was not killed, he had had +enough for that evening. Oh, I wish you had seen my customers; those who +did not belong to the clan, but who had taken part with them, and helped +to jeer and flout me, now came and shook me by the hand, wishing me joy, +and saying as, how 'I was a brave fellow, and had served the bully +right!' As for the clan, they all said Hunter was bound to do me +justice; so they made him pay me what he owed for himself, and the +reckoning of those among them who said they had no money. Two or three +of them then led him away, while the rest stayed behind, and flattered +me, and worshipped me, and called Hunter all kinds of dogs' names. What +do you think of that?" + +"Why," said I, "it makes good what I read in a letter which I received +yesterday. It is just the way of the world." + +"A'n't it," said the landlord. "Well, that a'n't all; let me go on. Good +fortune never yet came alone. In about an hour comes home my poor niece, +almost in high sterricks with joy, smiling and sobbing. She had been to +the clergyman of M---, the great preacher, to whose church she was in the +habit of going, and to whose daughters she was well known; and to him she +told a lamentable tale about my distresses, and about the snares which +had been laid for my soul; and so well did she plead my cause, and so +strong did the young ladies back all she said, that the good clergyman +promised to stand my friend, and to lend me sufficient money to satisfy +the brewer, and to get my soul out of the snares of the man in black; and +sure enough the next morning the two young ladies brought me the fifty +pounds, which I forthwith carried to the brewer, who was monstrously +civil, saying that he hoped any little misunderstanding we had had would +not prevent our being good friends in future. That a'n't all; the people +of the neighbouring county hearing as if by art witchcraft that I had +licked Hunter, and was on good terms with the brewer, forthwith began to +come in crowds to look at me, pay me homage, and be my customers. +Moreover, fifty scoundrels who owed me money, and would have seen me +starve rather than help me as long as they considered me a down pin, +remembered their debts, and came and paid me more than they owed. That +a'n't all; the brewer being about to establish a stage-coach and three, +to run across the country, says it shall stop and change horses at my +house, and the passengers breakfast and sup as it goes and returns. He +wishes me--whom he calls the best man in England--to give his son lessons +in boxing, which he says he considers a fine manly English art, and a +great defence against Popery--notwithstanding that only a month ago, when +he considered me a down pin, he was in the habit of railing against it as +a blackguard practice, and against me as a blackguard for following it; +so I am going to commence with young hopeful to-morrow." + +"I really cannot help congratulating you on your good fortune," said I. + +"That a'n't all," said the landlord. "This very morning the folks of our +parish made me churchwarden, which they would no more have done a month +ago, when they considered me a down pin, than they--" + +"Mercy upon us!" said I, "if fortune pours in upon you in this manner, +who knows but that within a year they may make you a justice of the +peace?" + +"Who knows, indeed!" said the landlord. "Well, I will prove myself +worthy of my good luck by showing the grateful mind--not to those who +would be kind to me now, but to those who were, when the days were rather +gloomy. My customers shall have abundance of rough language, but I'll +knock any one down who says anything against the clergyman who lent me +the fifty pounds, or against the Church of England, of which he is parson +and I am churchwarden. I am also ready to do anything in reason for him +who paid me for the ale he drank, when I shouldn't have had the heart to +collar him for the money had he refused to pay; who never jeered or +flouted me like the rest of my customers when I was a down pin--and +though he refused to fight cross _for_ me was never cross _with_ me, but +listened to all I had to say, and gave me all kinds of good advice. Now +who do you think I mean by this last? why, who but yourself--who on earth +but yourself? The parson is a good man and a great preacher, and I'll +knock anybody down who says to the contrary; and I mention him first, +because why; he's a gentleman, and you a tinker. But I am by no means +sure you are not the best friend of the two; for I doubt, do you see, +whether I should have had the fifty pounds but for you. You persuaded me +to give up that silly drink they call sherry, and drink ale; and what was +it but drinking ale which gave me courage to knock down that fellow +Hunter--and knocking him down was, I verily believe, the turning point of +my disorder. God don't love them who won't strike out for themselves; +and as far as I can calculate with respect to time, it was just the +moment after I had knocked down Hunter, that the parson consented to lend +me the money, and everything began to grow civil to me. So, dash my +buttons if I show the ungrateful mind to you! I don't offer to knock +anybody down for you, because why--I dare say you can knock a body down +yourself; but I'll offer something more to the purpose; as my business is +wonderfully on the increase, I shall want somebody to help me in serving +my customers, and keeping them in order. If you choose to come and serve +for your board, and what they'll give you, give me your fist; or if you +like ten shillings a week better than their sixpences and ha'pence, only +say so--though, to be open with you, I believe you would make twice ten +shillings out of them--the sneaking, fawning, curry-favouring humbugs!" + +"I am much obliged to you," said I, "for your handsome offer, which, +however, I am obliged to decline." + +"Why so?" said the landlord. + +"I am not fit for service," said I; "moreover, I am about to leave this +part of the country." As I spoke a horse neighed in the stable. "What +horse is that?" said I. + +"It belongs to a cousin of mine, who put it into my hands yesterday in +the hopes that I might get rid of it for him, though he would no more +have done so a week ago, when he considered me a down pin, than he would +have given the horse away. Are you fond of horses?" + +"Very much," said I. + +"Then come and look at it." He led me into the stable, where, in a +stall, stood a noble-looking animal. + +"Dear me," said I, "I saw this horse at --- fair." + +"Like enough," said the landlord; "he was there and was offered for +seventy pounds, but didn't find a bidder at any price. What do you think +of him?" + +"He's a splendid creature." + +"I am no judge of horses," said the landlord; "but I am told he's a first- +rate trotter, good leaper, and has some of the blood of Syntax. What +does all that signify?--the game is against his master, who is a down +pin, is thinking of emigrating, and wants money confoundedly. He asked +seventy pounds at the fair; but, between ourselves, he would be glad to +take fifty here." + +"I almost wish," said I, "that I were a rich squire." + +"You would buy him then," said the landlord. Here he mused for some +time, with a very profound look. "It would be a rum thing," said he, +"if, some time or other, that horse should come into your hands. Didn't +you hear how he neighed when you talked about leaving the country? My +granny was a wise woman, and was up to all kinds of signs and wonders, +sounds and noises, the interpretation of the language of birds and +animals, crowing and lowing, neighing and braying. If she had been here, +she would have said at once that that horse was fated to carry you away. +On that point, however, I can say nothing, for under fifty pounds no one +can have him. Are you taking that money out of your pocket to pay me for +the ale? That won't do; nothing to pay; I invited you this time. Now if +you are going, you had best get into the road through the yard-gate. I +won't trouble you to make your way through the kitchen and my +fine-weather company--confound them!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +Mr. Petulengro's Device--The Leathern Purse--Consent to Purchase a Horse. + +As I returned along the road I met Mr. Petulengro and one of his +companions, who told me that they were bound for the public-house; +whereupon I informed Jasper how I had seen in the stable the horse which +we had admired at the fair. "I shouldn't wonder if you buy that horse +after all, brother," said Mr. Petulengro. With a smile at the absurdity +of such a supposition, I left him and his companion, and betook myself to +the dingle. In the evening I received a visit from Mr. Petulengro, who +forthwith commenced talking about the horse, which he had again seen, the +landlord having shown it to him on learning that he was a friend of mine. +He told me that the horse pleased him more than ever, he having examined +his points with more accuracy than he had an opportunity of doing on the +first occasion, concluding by pressing me to buy him. I begged him to +desist from such foolish importunity, assuring him that I had never so +much money in all my life as would enable me to purchase the horse. +Whilst this discourse was going on, Mr. Petulengro and myself were +standing together in the midst of the dingle. Suddenly he began to move +round me--in a very singular manner, making strange motions with his +hands, and frightful contortions with his features, till I became +alarmed, and asked him whether he had not lost his senses? Whereupon, +ceasing his movements and contortions, he assured me that he had not, but +had merely been seized with a slight dizziness, and then once more +returned to the subject of the horse. Feeling myself very angry, I told +him that if he continued persecuting me in that manner, I should be +obliged to quarrel with him; adding, that I believed his only motive for +asking me to buy the animal was to insult my poverty. "Pretty poverty," +said he, "with fifty pounds in your pocket; however, I have heard say +that it is always the custom of your rich people to talk of their +poverty, more especially when they wish to avoid laying out money." +Surprised at his saying that I had fifty pounds in my pocket, I asked him +what he meant; whereupon he told me that he was very sure that I had +fifty pounds in my pocket, offering to lay me five shillings to that +effect. "Done!" said I; "I have scarcely more than the fifth part of +what you say." "I know better, brother," said Mr. Petulengro; "if you +only pull out what you have in the pocket of your slop, I am sure you +will have lost your wager." Putting my hand into the pocket, I felt +something which I had never felt there before, and pulling it out, +perceived that it was a clumsy leathern purse, which I found on opening +contained four ten-pound-notes, and several pieces of gold. "Didn't I +tell you so, brother?" said Mr. Petulengro. "Now, in the first place, +please to pay me the five shillings you have lost." "This is only a +foolish piece of pleasantry," said I; "you put it into my pocket whilst +you were moving about me, making faces like a distracted person. Here, +take your purse back." "I?" said Mr. Petulengro, "not I, indeed I don't +think I am such a fool. I have won my wager, so pay me the five +shillings, brother." "Do drop this folly," said I, "and take your +purse;" and I flung it on the ground. "Brother," said Mr. Petulengro, +"you were talking of quarrelling with me just now. I tell you now one +thing, which is, that if you do not take back the purse I will quarrel +with you; and it shall be for good and all. I'll drop your acquaintance, +no longer call you my pal, and not even say sarshan to you when I meet +you by the roadside. Hir mi diblis I never will." I saw by Jasper's +look and tone that he was in earnest, and, as I had really a regard for +the strange being, I scarcely knew what to do. "Now, be persuaded, +brother," said Mr. Petulengro, taking up the purse, and handing it to me; +"be persuaded; put the purse into your pocket, and buy the horse." +"Well," said I, "if I did so, would you acknowledge the horse to be +yours, and receive the money again as soon as I should be able to repay +you?" + +"I would, brother, I would," said he; "return me the money as soon as you +please, provided you buy the horse." "What motive have you for wishing +me to buy that horse?" said I. "He's to be sold for fifty pounds," said +Jasper, "and is worth four times that sum; though, like many a splendid +bargain, he is now going a begging; buy him, and I'm confident that, in a +little time, a grand gentleman of your appearance may have anything he +asks for him, and found a fortune by his means. Moreover, brother, I +want to dispose of this fifty pounds in a safe manner. If you don't take +it, I shall fool it away in no time, perhaps at card-playing, for you saw +how I was cheated by those blackguard jockeys the other day--we gyptians +don't know how to take care of money: our best plan when we have got a +handful of guineas is to make buttons with them; but I have plenty of +golden buttons, and don't wish to be troubled with more, so you can do me +no greater favour than vesting the money in this speculation, by which my +mind will be relieved of considerable care and trouble for some time at +least." + +Perceiving that I still hesitated, he said, "Perhaps, brother, you think +I did not come honestly by the money: by the honestest manner in the +world, for it is the money I earnt by fighting in the ring: I did not +steal it, brother, nor did I get it by disposing of spavined donkeys, or +glandered ponies--nor is it, brother, the profits of my wife's witchcraft +and dukkerin." + +"But," said I, "you had better employ it in your traffic." "I have +plenty of money for my traffic, independent of this capital," said Mr. +Petulengro; "ay, brother, and enough besides to back the husband of my +wife's sister, Sylvester, against Slammocks of the Chong gav for twenty +pounds, which I am thinking of doing." + +"But," said I, "after all, the horse may have found another purchaser by +this time." "Not he," said Mr. Petulengro, "there is nobody in this +neighbourhood to purchase a horse like that, unless it be your +lordship--so take the money, brother," and he thrust the purse into my +hand. Allowing myself to be persuaded, I kept possession of the purse. +"Are you satisfied now?" said I. "By no means, brother," said Mr. +Petulengro, "you will please to pay me the five shillings which you lost +to me." "Why," said I, "the fifty pounds which I found in my pocket were +not mine, but put in by yourself." "That's nothing to do with the +matter, brother," said Mr. Petulengro, "I betted you five shillings that +you had fifty pounds in your pocket, which sum you had: I did not say +that they were your own, but merely that you had fifty pounds; you will +therefore pay me, brother, or I shall not consider you an honourable +man." Not wishing to have any dispute about such a matter, I took five +shillings out of my under pocket, and gave them to him. Mr. Petulengro +took the money with great glee, observing--"These five shillings I will +take to the public-house forthwith, and spend in drinking with four of my +brethren, and doing so will give me an opportunity of telling the +landlord that I have found a customer for his horse, and that you are the +man. It will be as well to secure the horse as soon as possible; for +though the dook tells me that the horse is intended for you, I have now +and then found that the dook is, like myself, somewhat given to lying." + +He then departed, and I remained alone in the dingle. I thought at first +that I had committed a great piece of folly in consenting to purchase +this horse; I might find no desirable purchaser for him, until the money +in my possession should be totally exhausted, and then I might be +compelled to sell him for half the price I had given for him, or be even +glad to find a person who would receive him at a gift; I should then +remain sans horse, and indebted to Mr. Petulengro. Nevertheless, it was +possible that I might sell the horse very advantageously, and by so doing +obtain a fund sufficient to enable me to execute some grand enterprise or +other. My present way of life afforded no prospect of support, whereas +the purchase of the horse did afford a possibility of bettering my +condition, so, after all, had I not done right in consenting to purchase +the horse? the purchase was to be made with another person's property, it +is true, and I did not exactly like the idea of speculating with another +person's property, but Mr. Petulengro had thrust his money upon me, and +if I lost his money, he could have no one but himself to blame; so I +persuaded myself that I had, upon the whole, done right, and having come +to that persuasion, I soon began to enjoy the idea of finding myself on +horseback again, and figured to myself all kinds of strange adventures +which I should meet with on the roads before the horse and I should part +company. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +Trying the Horse--The Feats of Tawno--Man with the Red +Waist-coat--Disposal of Property. + +I saw nothing more of Mr. Petulengro that evening--on the morrow, +however, he came and informed me that he had secured the horse for me, +and that I was to go and pay for it at noon. At the hour appointed, +therefore, I went with Mr. Petulengro and Tawno to the public, where, as +before, there was a crowd of company. The landlord received us in the +bar with marks of much satisfaction and esteem, made us sit down, and +treated us with some excellent mild draught ale. "Who do you think has +been here this morning?" he said to me, "why, that fellow in black, who +came to carry me off to a house of Popish devotion, where I was to pass +seven days and nights in meditation, as I think he called it, before I +publicly renounced the religion of my country. I read him a pretty +lecture, calling him several unhandsome names, and asking him what he +meant by attempting to seduce a church-warden of the Church of England. I +tell you what, he ran some danger; for some of my customers, learning his +errand, laid hold on him, and were about to toss him in a blanket, and +then duck him in the horse-pond. I, however, interfered, and said, 'that +what he came about was between me and him, and that it was no business of +theirs.' To tell you the truth, I felt pity for the poor devil, more +especially when I considered that they merely sided against him because +they thought him the weakest, and that they would have wanted to serve me +in the same manner had they considered me a down pin; so I rescued him +from their hands, told him not to be afraid, for that nobody should touch +him, and offered to treat him to some cold gin and water with a lump of +sugar in it; and on his refusing, told him that he had better make +himself scarce, which he did, and I hope I shall never see him again. So +I suppose you are come for the horse; mercy upon us! who would have +thought you would have become the purchaser? The horse, however, seemed +to know it by his neighing. How did you ever come by the money? however, +that's no matter of mine. I suppose you are strongly backed by certain +friends you have." + +I informed the landlord that he was right in supposing that I came for +the horse, but that, before I paid for him, I should wish to prove his +capabilities. "With all my heart," said the landlord. "You shall mount +him this moment." Then going into the stable, he saddled and bridled the +horse, and presently brought him out before the door. I mounted him, Mr. +Petulengro putting a heavy whip into my hand, and saying a few words to +me in his own mysterious language. "The horse wants no whip," said the +landlord. "Hold your tongue, daddy," said Mr. Petulengro. "My pal knows +quite well what to do with the whip, he's not going to beat the horse +with it." About four hundred yards from the house there was a hill, to +the foot of which the road ran almost on a perfect level; towards the +foot of this hill I trotted the horse, who set off at a long, swift pace, +seemingly at the rate of about sixteen miles an hour. On reaching the +foot of the hill, I wheeled the animal round, and trotted him towards the +house--the horse sped faster than before. Ere he had advanced a hundred +yards, I took off my hat, in obedience to the advice which Mr. Petulengro +had given me, in his own language, and holding it over the horse's head +commenced drumming on the crown with the knob of the whip; the horse gave +a slight start, but instantly recovering himself, continued his trot till +he arrived at the door of the public-house, amidst the acclamations of +the company, who had all rushed out of the house to be spectators of what +was going on. "I see now what you wanted the whip for," said the +landlord, "and sure enough, that drumming on your hat was no bad way of +learning whether the horse was quiet or not. Well, did you ever see a +more quiet horse, or a better trotter?" "My cob shall trot against him," +said a fellow, dressed in velveteen, mounted on a low powerful-looking +animal. "My cob shall trot against him to the hill and back again--come +on!" We both started; the cob kept up gallantly against the horse for +about half way to the hill, when he began to lose ground; at the foot of +the hill he was about fifteen yards behind. Whereupon I turned slowly +and waited for him. We then set off towards the house, but now the cob +had no chance, being at least twenty yards behind when I reached the +door. This running of the horse, the wild uncouth forms around me, and +the ale and beer which were being guzzled from pots and flagons, put me +wonderfully in mind of the ancient horse-races of the heathen north. I +almost imagined myself Gunnar of Hlitharend at the race of-- + +"Are you satisfied?" said the landlord. "Didn't you tell me that he +could leap?" I demanded. "I am told he can," said the landlord; "but I +can't consent that he should be tried in that way, as he might be +damaged." "That's right!" said Mr. Petulengro, "don't trust my pal to +leap that horse, he'll merely fling him down, and break his neck and his +own. There's a better man than he close by; let him get on his back and +leap him." "You mean yourself, I suppose," said the landlord. "Well, I +call that talking modestly, and nothing becomes a young man more than +modesty." "It a'n't I, daddy," said Mr. Petulengro. "Here's the man," +said he, pointing to Tawno. "Here's the horse-leaper of the world!" "You +mean the horse-back breaker," said the landlord. "That big fellow would +break down my cousin's horse." "Why, he weighs only sixteen stone," said +Mr. Petulengro. "And his sixteen stone, with his way of handling a +horse, does not press so much as any other one's thirteen. Only let him +get on the horse's back, and you'll see what he can do!" "No," said the +landlord, "it won't do." Whereupon Mr. Petulengro became very much +excited; and pulling out a handful of money, said, "I'll tell you what, +I'll forfeit these guineas, if my black pal there does the horse any kind +of damage; duck me in the horse-pond if I don't." "Well," said the +landlord, "for the sport of the thing I consent, so let your white pal +get down, and our black pal mount as soon as he pleases." I felt rather +mortified at Mr. Petulengro's interference; and showed no disposition to +quit my seat; whereupon he came up to me and said, "Now, brother, do get +out of the saddle--you are no bad hand at trotting, I am willing to +acknowledge that; but at leaping a horse there is no one like Tawno. Let +every dog be praised for his own gift. You have been showing off in your +line for the last half-hour; now do give Tawno a chance of exhibiting a +little; poor fellow, he hasn't often a chance of exhibiting, as his wife +keeps him so much out of sight." Not wishing to appear desirous of +engrossing the public attention, and feeling rather desirous to see how +Tawno, of whose exploits in leaping horses I had frequently heard, would +acquit himself in the affair, I at length dismounted, and Tawno, at a +bound, leaped into the saddle, where he really looked like Gunnar of +Hlitharend, save and except the complexion of Gunnar was florid, whereas +that of Tawno was of nearly Mulatto darkness; and that all Tawno's +features were cast in the Grecian model, whereas Gunnar had a snub nose. +"There's a leaping-bar behind the house," said the landlord. "Leaping- +bar!" said Mr. Petulengro, scornfully. "Do you think my black pal ever +rides at a leaping-bar? No more than a windle-straw. Leap over that +meadow-wall, Tawno." Just past the house, in the direction in which I +had been trotting, was a wall about four feet high, beyond which was a +small meadow. Tawno rode the horse gently up to the wall, permitted him +to look over, then backed him for about ten yards, and pressing his +calves against the horse's sides, he loosed the rein, and the horse +launching forward, took the leap in gallant style. "Well done, man and +horse!" said Mr. Petulengro, "now come back, Tawno." The leap from the +side of the meadow was, however, somewhat higher; and the horse, when +pushed at it, at first turned away; whereupon Tawno backed him to a +greater distance, pushed the horse to a full gallop, giving a wild cry; +whereupon the horse again took the wall, slightly grazing one of his legs +against it. "A near thing," said the landlord; "but a good leap. Now, +no more leaping, so long as I have control over the animal." The horse +was then led back to the stable; and the landlord, myself and companions +going into the bar, I paid down the money for the horse. + +Scarcely was the bargain concluded, when two or three of the company +began to envy me the possession of the horse, and forcing their way into +the bar, with much noise and clamour, said that the horse had been sold +too cheap. One fellow, in particular, with a red waistcoat, the son of a +wealthy farmer, said that if he had but known that the horse had been so +good a one, he would have bought it at the first price asked for it, +which he was now willing to pay, that is to-morrow, supposing--"supposing +your father will let you have the money," said the landlord, "which, +after all, might not be the case; but, however that may be, it is too +late now. I think myself the horse has been sold for too little money, +but if so all the better for the young man, who came forward when no +other body did with his money in his hand. There, take yourselves out of +my bar," he said to the fellows; "and a pretty scoundrel you," said he to +the man of the red waistcoat, "to say the horse has been sold too cheap; +why, it was only yesterday you said he was good for nothing, and were +passing all kinds of jokes at him. Take yourself out of my bar, I say, +you and all of you," and he turned the fellows out. I then asked the +landlord whether he would permit the horse to remain in the stable for a +short time, provided I paid for his entertainment; and on his willingly +consenting, I treated my friends with ale, and then returned with them to +the encampment. + +That evening I informed Mr. Petulengro and his party that on the morrow I +intended to mount my horse, and leave that part of the country in quest +of adventures; inquiring of Jasper where, in the event of my selling the +horse advantageously, I might meet with him, and repay the money I had +borrowed of him; whereupon Mr. Petulengro informed me that in about ten +weeks I might find him at a certain place at the Chong gav. I then +stated that as I could not well carry with me the property which I +possessed in the dingle, which after all was of no considerable value, I +had resolved to bestow the said property, namely, the pony, tent, tinker- +tools, etc., on Ursula and her husband, partly because they were poor, +and partly on account of the great kindness which I bore to Ursula, from +whom I had, on various occasions, experienced all manner of civility, +particularly in regard to crabbed words. On hearing this intelligence, +Ursula returned many thanks to her gentle brother, as she called me, and +Sylvester was so overjoyed that, casting aside his usual phlegm, he said +I was the best friend he had ever had in the world, and in testimony of +his gratitude swore that he would permit his wife to give me a choomer in +the presence of the whole company, which offer, however, met with a very +mortifying reception, the company frowning disapprobation, Ursula +protesting against anything of the kind, and I myself showing no +forwardness to avail myself of it, having inherited from nature a +considerable fund of modesty, to which was added no slight store acquired +in the course of my Irish education. I passed that night alone in the +dingle in a very melancholy manner, with little or no sleep, thinking of +Isopel Berners; and in the morning when I quitted it I shed several +tears, as I reflected that I should probably never again see the spot +where I had passed so many hours in her company. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +Farewell to the Romans--The Landlord and His Niece--Set Out as a +Traveller. + +On reaching the plain above, I found my Romany friends breakfasting, and +on being asked by Mr. Petulengro to join them, I accepted the invitation. +No sooner was breakfast over than I informed Ursula and her husband that +they would find the property, which I had promised them, in the dingle, +commending the little pony Ambrol to their best care. I took leave of +the whole company, which was itself about to break up camp and to depart +in the direction of London, and made the best of my way to the public- +house. I had a small bundle in my hand, and was dressed in the same +manner as when I departed from London, having left my waggoner's slop +with the other effects in the dingle. On arriving at the public-house, I +informed the landlord that I was come for my horse, inquiring, at the +same time, whether he could not accommodate me with a bridle and saddle. +He told me that the bridle and saddle, with which I had ridden the horse +on the preceding day, were at my service for a trifle; that he had +received them some time since in payment for a debt, and that he had +himself no use for them. The leathers of the bridle were rather shabby, +and the bit rusty, and the saddle was old fashioned; but I was happy to +purchase them for seven shillings, more especially as the landlord added +a small valise, which he said could be strapped to the saddle, and which +I should find very convenient for carrying my things in. I then +proceeded to the stable, told the horse we were bound on an expedition, +and giving him a feed of corn, left him to discuss it, and returned to +the bar-room to have a little farewell chat with the landlord, and at the +same time to drink with him a farewell glass of ale. Whilst we were +talking and drinking, the niece came and joined us: she was a decent, +sensible young woman, who appeared to take a great interest in her uncle, +whom she regarded with a singular mixture of pride and, +disapprobation--pride for the renown which he had acquired by his feats +of old, and disapprobation for his late imprudences. She said that she +hoped that his misfortunes would be a warning to him to turn more to his +God than he had hitherto done, and to give up cock-fighting and other low- +life practices. To which the landlord replied, that with respect to cock- +fighting he intended to give it up entirely, being determined no longer +to risk his capital upon birds, and with respect to his religious duties, +he should attend the church of which he was churchwarden at least once a +quarter, adding, however, that he did not intend to become either canter +or driveller, neither of which characters would befit a publican +surrounded by such customers as he was, and that to the last day of his +life he hoped to be able to make use of his fists. After a stay of about +two hours I settled accounts, and having bridled and saddled my horse, +and strapped on my valise, I mounted, shook hands with the landlord and +his niece, and departed, notwithstanding that they both entreated me to +tarry until the evening, it being then the heat of the day. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +An Adventure on the Road--The Six Flint Stone--A Rural Scene--Mead--The +Old Man and His Bees. + +I bent my course in the direction of the north, more induced by chance +than any particular motive; all quarters of the world having about equal +attractions for me. I was in high spirits at finding myself once more on +horse-back, and trotted gaily on, until the heat of the weather induced +me to slacken my pace, more out of pity for my horse than because I felt +any particular inconvenience from it--heat and cold being then, and +still, matters of great indifference to me. What I thought of I scarcely +know, save and except that I have a glimmering recollection that I felt +some desire to meet with one of those adventures which upon the roads of +England are generally as plentiful as blackberries in autumn; and +Fortune, who has generally been ready to gratify my inclinations, +provided it cost her very little by so doing, was not slow in furnishing +me with an adventure, perhaps as characteristic of the English roads as +anything which could have happened. + +I might have travelled about six miles amongst cross roads and lanes, +when suddenly I found myself upon a broad and very dusty road which +seemed to lead due north. As I wended along this I saw a man upon a +donkey riding towards me. The man was commonly dressed, with a broad +felt hat on his head, and a kind of satchel on his back; he seemed to be +in a mighty hurry, and was every now and then belabouring the donkey with +a cudgel. The donkey, however, which was a fine large creature of the +silver-grey species, did not appear to sympathize at all with its rider +in his desire to get on, but kept its head turned back as much as +possible, moving from one side of the road to the other, and not making +much forward way. As I passed, being naturally of a very polite +disposition, I gave the man the sele of the day, asking him, at the same +time, why he beat the donkey; whereupon the fellow eyeing me askance, +told me to mind my own business, with the addition of something which I +need not repeat. I had not proceeded a furlong before I saw seated on +the dust by the wayside, close by a heap of stones, and with several +flints before him, a respectable-looking old man, with a straw hat and a +white smock, who was weeping bitterly. + +"What are you crying for, father?" said I. "Have you come to any hurt?" +"Hurt enough," sobbed the old man, "I have just been tricked out of the +best ass in England by a villain, who gave me nothing but these trash in +return," pointing to the stones before him. "I really scarcely +understand you," said I, "I wish you would explain yourself more +clearly." "I was riding on my ass from market," said the old man, "when +I met here a fellow with a sack on his back, who, after staring at the +ass and me a moment or two, asked me if I would sell her. I told him +that I could not think of selling her, as she was very useful to me, and +though an animal, my true companion, whom I loved as much as if she were +my wife and daughter. I then attempted to pass on, but the fellow stood +before me, begging me to sell her, saying that he would give me anything +for her; well, seeing that he persisted, I said at last that if I sold +her, I must have six pounds for her, and I said so to get rid of him, for +I saw that he was a shabby fellow, who had probably not six shillings in +the world; but I had better have held my tongue," said the old man, +crying more bitterly than before, "for the words were scarcely out of my +mouth, when he said he would give me what I asked, and taking the sack +from his back, he pulled out a steelyard, and going to the heap of stones +there, he took up several of them and weighed them, then flinging them +down before me, he said, 'There are six pounds, neighbour; now, get off +the ass, and hand her over to me.' Well, I sat like one dumbfoundered +for a time, till at last I asked him what he meant? 'What do I mean?' +said he, 'you old rascal, why, I mean to claim my purchase,' and then he +swore so awfully, that scarcely knowing what I did I got down, and he +jumped on the animal and rode off as fast as he could." "I suppose he +was the fellow," said I, "whom I just now met upon a fine gray ass, which +he was beating with a cudgel." "I dare say he was," said the old man, "I +saw him beating her as he rode away, and I thought I should have died." +"I never heard such a story," said I; "well, do you mean to submit to +such a piece of roguery quietly?" "Oh, dear," said the old man, "what +can I do? I am seventy-nine years of age; I am bad on my feet, and +dar'n't go after him."--"Shall I go?" said I; "the fellow is a thief, and +any one has a right to stop him." "Oh, if you could but bring her again +to me," said the old man, "I would bless you till my dying day; but have +a care; I don't know but after all the law may say that she is his lawful +purchase. I asked six pounds for her, and he gave me six pounds." "Six +flints, you mean," said I, "no, no, the law is not quite so bad as that +either; I know something about her, and am sure that she will never +sanction such a quibble. At all events, I'll ride after the fellow." +Thereupon turning my horse round, I put him to his very best trot; I rode +nearly a mile without obtaining a glimpse of the fellow, and was becoming +apprehensive that he had escaped me by turning down some by-path, two or +three of which I had passed. Suddenly, however, on the road making a +slight turning, I perceived him right before me, moving at a tolerably +swift pace, having by this time probably overcome the resistance of the +animal. Putting my horse to a full gallop, I shouted at the top of my +voice, "Get off that donkey, you rascal, and give her up to me, or I'll +ride you down." The fellow hearing the thunder of the horse's hoofs +behind him, drew up on one side of the road. "What do you want?" said +he, as I stopped my charger, now almost covered with sweat and foam close +beside him. "Do you want to rob me?" "To rob you?" said I. "No! but to +take from you that ass, of which you have just robbed its owner." "I +have robbed no man," said the fellow; "I just now purchased it fairly of +its master, and the law will give it to me; he asked six pounds for it, +and I gave him six pounds." "Six stones, you mean, you rascal," said I; +"get down, or my horse shall be upon you in a moment;" then with a motion +of my reins, I caused the horse to rear, pressing his sides with my heels +as if I intended to make him leap. "Stop," said the man, "I'll get down, +and then try if I can't serve you out." He then got down, and confronted +me with his cudgel; he was a horrible-looking fellow, and seemed prepared +for anything. Scarcely, however, had he dismounted, when the donkey +jerked the bridle out of his hand, and probably in revenge for the usage +she had received, gave him a pair of tremendous kicks on the hip with her +hinder legs, which overturned him, and then scampered down the road the +way she had come. "Pretty treatment this," said the fellow, getting up +without his cudgel, and holding his hand to his side, "I wish I may not +be lamed for life." "And if you be," said I, "it will merely serve you +right, you rascal, for trying to cheat a poor old man out of his property +by quibbling at words." "Rascal!" said the fellow, "you lie, I am no +rascal; and as for quibbling with words--suppose I did! What then? All +the first people does it! The newspapers does it! the gentlefolks that +calls themselves the guides of the popular mind does it! I'm no +ignoramus. I read the newspapers, and knows what's what." "You read +them to some purpose," said I. "Well, if you are lamed for life, and +unfitted for any active line--turn newspaper editor; I should say you are +perfectly qualified, and this day's adventure may be the foundation of +your fortune," thereupon I turned round and rode off. The fellow +followed me with a torrent of abuse. "Confound you," said he--yet that +was not the expression either--"I know you; you are one of the +horse-patrol come down into the country on leave to see your relations. +Confound you, you and the like of you have knocked my business on the +head near Lunnon, and I suppose we shall have you shortly in the +country." "To the newspaper office," said I, "and fabricate falsehoods +out of flint stones;" then touching the horse with my heels, I trotted +off, and coming to the place where I had seen the old man, I found him +there, risen from the ground, and embracing his ass. + +I told him that I was travelling down the road, and said, that if his way +lay in the same direction as mine he could do no better than accompany me +for some distance, lest the fellow who, for aught I knew, might be +hovering nigh, might catch him alone, and again get his ass from him. +After thanking me for my offer, which he said he would accept, he got +upon his ass, and we proceeded together down the road. My new +acquaintance said very little of his own accord; and when I asked him a +question, answered rather incoherently. I heard him every now and then +say, "Villain!" to himself, after which he would pat the donkey's neck, +from which circumstance I concluded that his mind was occupied with his +late adventure. After travelling about two miles, we reached a place +where a drift-way on the right led from the great road; here my companion +stopped, and on my asking him whether he was going any farther, he told +me that the path to the right was the way to his home. + +I was bidding him farewell, when he hemmed once or twice, and said, that +as he did not live far off, he hoped that I would go with him and taste +some of his mead. As I had never tasted mead, of which I had frequently +read in the compositions of the Welsh bards, and, moreover, felt rather +thirsty from the heat of the day, I told him that I should have great +pleasure in attending him. Whereupon, turning off together, we proceeded +about half a mile, sometimes between stone walls, and at other times +hedges, till we reached a small hamlet, through which we passed, and +presently came to a very pretty cottage, delightfully situated within a +garden, surrounded by a hedge of woodbines. Opening a gate at one corner +of the garden he led the way to a large shed, which stood partly behind +the cottage, which he said was his stable; thereupon he dismounted and +led his donkey into the shed, which was without stalls, but had a long +rack and manger. On one side he tied his donkey, after taking off her +caparisons, and I followed his example, tying my horse at the other side +with a rope halter which he gave me; he then asked me to come in and +taste his mead, but I told him that I must attend to the comfort of my +horse first, and forthwith, taking a wisp of straw, rubbed him carefully +down. Then taking a pailful of clear water which stood in the shed, I +allowed the horse to drink about half a pint; and then turning to the old +man, who all the time had stood by looking at my proceedings, I asked him +whether he had any oats? "I have all kinds of grain," he replied; and, +going out, he presently returned with two measures, one a large and the +other a small one, both filled with oats, mixed with a few beans, and +handing the large one to me for the horse, he emptied the other before +the donkey, who, before she began to despatch it, turned her nose to her +master's face, and fairly kissed him. Having given my horse his portion, +I told the old man that I was ready to taste his mead as soon as he +pleased, whereupon he ushered me into his cottage, where, making me sit +down by a deal table in a neatly sanded kitchen, he produced from an old- +fashioned closet a bottle, holding about a quart, and a couple of cups, +which might each contain about half a pint, then opening the bottle and +filling the cups with a brown-coloured liquor, he handed one to me, and +taking a seat opposite to me, he lifted the other, nodded, and saying to +me--"Health and welcome," placed it to his lips and drank. + +"Health and thanks," I replied; and being very thirsty, emptied my cup at +a draught; I had scarcely done so, however, when I half repented. The +mead was deliciously sweet and mellow, but appeared strong as brandy; my +eyes reeled in my head, and my brain became slightly dizzy. "Mead is a +strong drink," said the old man, as he looked at me, with a half smile on +his countenance. "This is at any rate," said I, "so strong, indeed, that +I would not drink another cup for any consideration." "And I would not +ask you," said the old man; "for, if you did, you would most probably be +stupid all day, and wake the next morning with a headache. Mead is a +good drink, but woundily strong, especially to those who be not used to +it, as I suppose you are not." "Where do you get it?" said I. "I make +it myself," said the old man, "from the honey which my bees make." "Have +you many bees?" I inquired. "A great many," said the old man. "And do +you keep them," said I, "for the sake of making mead with their honey?" +"I keep them," he replied, "partly because I am fond of them, and partly +for what they bring me in; they make me a great deal of honey, some of +which I sell, and with a little I make some mead to warm my poor heart +with, or occasionally to treat a friend with like yourself." "And do you +support yourself entirely by means of your bees?" "No," said the old +man; "I have a little bit of ground behind my house, which is my +principal means of support." "And do you live alone?" "Yes," said he; +"with the exception of the bees and the donkey, I live quite alone." "And +have you always lived alone?" The old man emptied his cup, and his heart +being warmed with the mead, he told his history, which was simplicity +itself. His father was a small yeoman, who, at his death, had left him, +his only child, the cottage, with a small piece of ground behind it, and +on this little property he had lived ever since. About the age of twenty- +five he had married an industrious young woman, by whom he had one +daughter, who died before reaching years of womanhood. His wife, +however, had survived her daughter many years, and had been a great +comfort to him, assisting him in his rural occupations; but, about four +years before the present period, he had lost her, since which time he had +lived alone, making himself as comfortable as he could; cultivating his +ground, with the help of a lad from the neighbouring village, attending +to his bees, and occasionally riding his donkey to market, and hearing +the word of God, which he said he was sorry he could not read, twice a +week regularly at the parish church. Such was the old man's tale. + +When he had finished speaking, he led me behind his house, and showed me +his little domain. It consisted of about two acres in admirable +cultivation; a small portion of it formed a kitchen garden, while the +rest was sown with four kinds of grain, wheat, barley, peas, and beans. +The air was full of ambrosial sweets, resembling those proceeding from an +orange grove; a place which though I had never seen at that time, I since +have. In the garden was the habitation of the bees, a long box, +supported upon three oaken stumps. It was full of small round glass +windows, and appeared to be divided into a great many compartments, much +resembling drawers placed sideways. He told me that, as one compartment +was filled, the bees left it for another; so that, whenever he wanted +honey, he could procure some without injury to the insects. Through the +little round windows I could see several of the bees at work; hundreds +were going in and out of the doors; hundreds were buzzing about on the +flowers, the woodbines, and beans. As I looked around on the +well-cultivated field, the garden, and the bees, I thought I had never +before seen so rural and peaceful a scene. + +When we returned to the cottage we again sat down, and I asked the old +man whether he was not afraid to live alone. He told me that he was not, +for that, upon the whole, his neighbours were very kind to him. I +mentioned the fellow who had swindled him of his donkey upon the road. +"That was no neighbour of mine," said the old man, "and, perhaps, I shall +never see him again, or his like." "It's a dreadful thing," said I, "to +have no other resource, when injured, than to shed tears on the road." +"It is so," said the old man; "but God saw the tears of the old, and sent +a helper." "Why did you not help yourself?" said I. "Instead of getting +off your ass, why did you not punch at the fellow, or at any rate use +dreadful language, call him villain, and shout robbery?" "Punch!" said +the old man, "shout! what, with these hands, and this voice--Lord, how +you run on! I am old, young chap, I am old!" "Well," said I, "it is a +shameful thing to cry even when old." "You think so now," said the old +man, "because you are young and strong; perhaps when you are as old as I, +you will not be ashamed to cry." + +Upon the whole I was rather pleased with the old man, and much with all +about him. As evening drew nigh, I told him that I must proceed on my +journey; whereupon he invited me to tarry with him during the night, +telling me that he had a nice room and bed above at my service. I, +however, declined; and bidding him farewell, mounted my horse, and +departed. Regaining the road, I proceeded once more in the direction of +the north; and, after a few hours, coming to a comfortable public-house, +I stopped, and put up for the night. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +The Singular Noise--Sleeping in a Meadow--The Book--Cure for +Wakefulness--Literary Tea Party--Poor Byron. + +I did not awake till rather late the next morning; and when I did, I felt +considerable drowsiness, with a slight headache, which I was uncharitable +enough to attribute to the mead which I had drunk on the preceding day. +After feeding my horse, and breakfasting, I proceeded on my wanderings. +Nothing occurred worthy of relating till mid-day was considerably past, +when I came to a pleasant valley, between two gentle hills. I had +dismounted, in order to ease my horse, and was leading him along by the +bridle, when, on my right, behind a bank in which some umbrageous ashes +were growing, heard a singular noise. I stopped short and listened, and +presently said to myself, "Surely this is snoring, perhaps that of a +hedgehog." On further consideration, however, I was convinced that the +noise which I heard, and which certainly seemed to be snoring, could not +possibly proceed from the nostrils of so small an animal, but must rather +come from those of a giant, so loud and sonorous was it. About two or +three yards farther was a gate, partly open, to which I went, and peeping +into the field, saw a man lying on some rich grass, under the shade of +one of the ashes; he was snoring away at a great rate. Impelled by +curiosity, I fastened the bridle of my horse to the gate, and went up to +the man. He was a genteelly-dressed individual; rather corpulent, with +dark features, and seemingly about forty-five. He lay on his back, his +hat slightly over his brow, and at his right hand lay an open book. So +strenuously did he snore that the wind from his nostrils agitated, +perceptibly, a fine cambric frill which he wore at his bosom. I gazed +upon him for some time, expecting that he might awake; but he did not, +but kept on snoring, his breast heaving convulsively. At last, the noise +he made became so terrible, that I felt alarmed for his safety, imagining +that a fit might seize him, and he lose his life while fast asleep. I +therefore exclaimed, "Sir, sir, awake! you sleep over-much." But my +voice failed to rouse him, and he continued snoring as before; whereupon +I touched him slightly with my riding wand, but failing to wake him, I +touched him again more vigorously; whereupon he opened his eyes, and, +probably imagining himself in a dream, closed them again. But I was +determined to arouse him, and cried as loud as I could, "Sir, sir, pray +sleep no more!" He heard what I said, opened his eyes again, stared at +me with a look of some consciousness, and, half raising himself upon his +elbows, asked me what was the matter. "I beg your pardon," said I, "but +I took the liberty of awaking you, because you appeared to be much +disturbed in your sleep--I was fearful, too, that you might catch a fever +from sleeping under a tree." "I run no risk," said the man, "I often +come and sleep here; and as for being disturbed in my sleep, I felt very +comfortable; I wish you had not awoke me." "Well," said I, "I beg your +pardon once more. I assure you that what I did was with the best +intention." "Oh! pray make no further apology," said the individual, "I +make no doubt that what you did was done kindly; but there's an old +proverb, to the effect, 'that you should let sleeping dogs lie,'" he +added with a smile. Then, getting up, and stretching himself with a +yawn, he took up his book and said, "I have slept quite long enough, and +it's quite time for me to be going home." "Excuse my curiosity," said I, +"if I inquire what may induce you to come and sleep in this meadow?" "To +tell you the truth," answered he, "I am a bad sleeper." "Pray pardon +me," said I, "if I tell you that I never saw one sleep more heartily." +"If I did so," said the individual, "I am beholden to this meadow and +this book; but I am talking riddles, and will explain myself. I am the +owner of a very pretty property, of which this valley forms part. Some +years ago, however, up started a person who said the property was his; a +lawsuit ensued, and I was on the brink of losing my all, when, most +unexpectedly, the suit was determined in my favour. Owing, however, to +the anxiety to which my mind had been subjected for several years, my +nerves had become terribly shaken; and no sooner was the trial terminated +than sleep forsook my pillow. I sometimes passed nights without closing +an eye; I took opiates, but they rather increased than alleviated my +malady. About three weeks ago a friend of mine put this book into my +hand, and advised me to take it every day to some pleasant part of my +estate, and try and read a page or two, assuring me, if I did, that I +should infallibly fall asleep. I took his advice, and selecting this +place, which I considered the pleasantest part of my property, I came, +and lying down, commenced reading the book, and before finishing a page +was in a dead slumber. Every day since then I have repeated the +experiment, and every time with equal success. I am a single man, +without any children; and yesterday I made my will, in which, in the +event of my friend's surviving me, I have left him all my fortune, in +gratitude for his having procured for me the most invaluable of all +blessings--sleep." + +"Dear me," said I, "how very extraordinary! Do you think that your going +to sleep is caused by the meadow or the book?" "I suppose by both," said +my new acquaintance, "acting in co-operation." "It may be so," said I; +"the magic influence does certainly not proceed from the meadow alone; +for since I have been here, I have not felt the slightest inclination to +sleep. Does the book consist of prose or poetry?" "It consists of +poetry," said the individual. "Not Byron's?" said I. "Byron's!" +repeated the individual, with a smile of contempt; "no, no; there is +nothing narcotic in Byron's poetry. I don't like it. I used to read it, +but it thrilled, agitated, and kept me awake. No; this is not Byron's +poetry, but the inimitable ---'s"--mentioning a name which I had never +heard till then. "Will you permit me to look at it?" said I. "With +pleasure," he answered, politely handing me the book. I took the volume, +and glanced over the contents. It was written in blank verse, and +appeared to abound in descriptions of scenery; there was much mention of +mountains, valleys, streams, and waterfalls, harebells and daffodils. +These descriptions were interspersed with dialogues, which, though they +proceeded from the mouths of pedlars and rustics, were of the most +edifying description; mostly on subjects moral or metaphysical, and +couched in the most gentlemanly and unexceptionable language, without the +slightest mixture of vulgarity, coarseness, or pie-bald grammar. Such +appeared to me to be the contents of the book; but before I could form a +very clear idea of them, I found myself nodding, and a surprising desire +to sleep coming over me. Rousing myself, however, by a strong effort, I +closed the book, and, returning it to the owner, inquired of him, +"Whether he had any motive in coming and lying down in the meadow, +besides the wish of enjoying sleep?" "None whatever," he replied; +"indeed, I should be very glad not to be compelled to do so, always +provided I could enjoy the blessing of sleep; for by lying down under +trees, I may possibly catch the rheumatism, or be stung by serpents; and, +moreover, in the rainy season and winter the thing will be impossible, +unless I erect a tent, which will possibly destroy the charm." "Well," +said I, "you need give yourself no further trouble about coming here, as +I am fully convinced that with this book in your hand, you may go to +sleep anywhere, as your friend was doubtless aware, though he wished to +interest your imagination for a time by persuading you to lie abroad; +therefore, in future, whenever you feel disposed to sleep, try to read +the book, and you will be sound asleep in a minute; the narcotic +influence lies in the book, and not in the field." "I will follow your +advice," said the individual; "and this very night take it with me to +bed; though I hope in time to be able to sleep without it, my nerves +being already much quieted from the slumbers I have enjoyed in this +field." He then moved towards the gate, where we parted; he going one +way, and I and my horse the other. + +More than twenty years subsequent to this period, after much wandering +about the world, returning to my native country, I was invited to a +literary tea-party, where, the discourse turning upon poetry, I, in order +to show that I was not more ignorant than my neighbours, began to talk +about Byron, for whose writings I really entertained considerable +admiration, though I had no particular esteem for the man himself. At +first, I received no answer to what I said--the company merely surveying +me with a kind of sleepy stare. At length a lady, about the age of +forty, with a large wart on her face, observed, in a drawling tone, "That +she had not read Byron--at least, since her girlhood--and then only a few +passages; but that the impression on her mind was, that his writings were +of a highly objectionable character." "I also read a little of him in my +boyhood," said a gentleman about sixty, but who evidently, from his dress +and demeanour, wished to appear about thirty, "but I highly disapproved +of him; for, notwithstanding he was a nobleman, he is frequently very +coarse, and very fond of raising emotion. Now emotion is what I +dislike;" drawling out the last syllable of the word dislike. "There is +only one poet for me--the divine--" and then he mentioned a name which I +had only once heard, and afterwards quite forgotten; the same mentioned +by the snorer in the field. "Ah! there is no one like him!" murmured +some more of the company; "the poet of nature--of nature without its +vulgarity." I wished very much to ask these people whether they were +ever bad sleepers, and whether they had read the poet, so called, from a +desire of being set to sleep. Within a few days, however, I learnt that +it had of late become very fashionable and genteel to appear half asleep, +and that one could exhibit no better mark of superfine breeding than by +occasionally in company setting one's rhomal organ in action. I then +ceased to wonder at the popularity, which I found nearly universal, of --- +'s poetry; for, certainly in order to make one's self appear sleepy in +company, or occasionally to induce sleep, nothing could be more +efficacious than a slight prelection of his poems. So poor Byron, with +his fire and emotion--to say nothing of his mouthings and coxcombry--was +dethroned, as I prophesied he would be more than twenty years before, on +the day of his funeral, though I had little idea that his humiliation +would have been brought about by one, whose sole strength consists in +setting people to sleep. Well, all things are doomed to terminate in +sleep. Before that termination, however, I will venture to prophesy that +people will become a little more awake--snoring and yawning be a little +less in fashion--and poor Byron be once more reinstated on his throne, +though his rival will always stand a good chance of being worshipped by +those whose ruined nerves are insensible to the narcotic powers of opium +and morphine. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +Drivers and Front Outside Passengers--Fatigue of Body and Mind--Unexpected +Greeting--My Inn--The Governor--Engagement. + +I continued my journey, passing through one or two villages. The day was +exceedingly hot, and the roads dusty. In order to cause my horse as +little fatigue as possible, and not to chafe his back, I led him by the +bridle, my doing which brought upon me a shower of remarks, jests, and +would-be witticisms from the drivers and front outside passengers of +sundry stage-coaches which passed me in one direction or the other. In +this way I proceeded till considerably past noon, when I felt myself very +fatigued, and my horse appeared no less so; and it is probable that the +lazy and listless manner in which we were moving on, tired us both much +more effectually than hurrying along at a swift trot would have done, for +I have observed that when the energies of the body are not exerted a +languor frequently comes over it. At length arriving at a very large +building with an archway, near the entrance of a town, I sat down on what +appeared to be a stepping-block, and presently experienced a great +depression of spirits. I began to ask myself whither I was going, and +what I should do with myself and the horse which I held by the bridle? It +appeared to me that I was alone in the world with the poor animal, who +looked for support to me, who knew not how to support myself. Then the +image of Isopel Berners came into my mind, and when I thought how I had +lost her for ever, and how happy I might have been with her in the New +World had she not deserted me, I became yet more miserable. + +As I sat in this state of mind, I suddenly felt some one clap me on the +shoulder, and heard a voice say, "Ha! comrade of the dingle, what chance +has brought you into these parts?" I turned round, and beheld a man in +the dress of a postillion, whom I instantly recognized as he to whom I +had rendered assistance on the night of the storm. + +"Ah!" said I, "is it you? I am glad to see you, for I was feeling very +lonely and melancholy." + +"Lonely and melancholy," he replied, "how is that? how can any one be +lonely and melancholy with such a noble horse as that you hold by the +bridle?" + +"The horse," said I, "is one cause of my melancholy, for I know not in +the world what to do with it." + +"It is your own?" + +"Yes," said I, "I may call it my own, though I borrowed the money to +purchase it." + +"Well, why don't you sell it?" + +"It is not always easy to find a purchaser for a horse like this," said +I; "can you recommend me one?" + +"I? Why no, not exactly; but you'll find a purchaser shortly--pooh! if +you have no other cause for disquiet than that horse, cheer up, man, +don't be cast down. Have you nothing else on your mind? By the bye, +what's become of the young woman you were keeping company with in that +queer lodging place of yours?" + +"She has left me," said I. + +"You quarrelled, I suppose?" + +"No," said I, "we did not exactly quarrel, but we are parted." + +"Well," replied he, "but you will soon come together again." + +"No," said I, "we are parted for ever." + +"For ever! Pooh! you little know how people sometimes come together +again who think they are parted for ever. Here's something on that point +relating to myself. You remember, when I told you my story in that +dingle of yours, that I mentioned a young woman, my fellow-servant when I +lived with the English family in Mumbo Jumbo's town, and how she and I, +when our foolish governors were thinking of changing their religion, +agreed to stand by each other, and be true to old Church of England, and +to give our governors warning, provided they tried to make us renegades. +Well, she and I parted soon after that, and never to meet again, yet we +met the other day in the fields, for she lately came to live with a great +family not far from here, and we have since agreed to marry, to take a +little farm, for we have both a trifle of money, and live together till +'death us do part.' So much for parting for ever! But what do I mean by +keeping you broiling in the sun with your horse's bridle in your hand, +and you on my own ground? Do you know where you are? Why, that great +house is my inn, that is, it's my master's, the best fellow in ---. Come +along, you and your horse both will find a welcome at my inn." + +Thereupon he led the way into a large court in which there were coaches, +chaises, and a great many people; taking my horse from me, he led it into +a nice cool stall, and fastened it to the rack--he then conducted me into +a postillion's keeping-room, which at that time chanced to be empty, and +he then fetched a pot of beer and sat down by me. + +After a little conversation he asked me what I intended to do, and I told +him frankly that I did not know; whereupon he observed that, provided I +had no objection, he had little doubt that I could be accommodated for +some time at his inn. "Our upper ostler," said he, "died about a week +ago; he was a clever fellow, and, besides his trade, understood reading +and accounts." + +"Dear me," said I, interrupting him, "I am not fitted for the place of +ostler--moreover, I refused the place of ostler at a public-house, which +was offered to me only a few days ago." The postillion burst into a +laugh. "Ostler at a public-house, indeed! why, you would not compare a +berth at a place like that with the situation of ostler at my inn, the +first road-house in England! However, I was not thinking of the place of +ostler for you; you are, as you say, not fitted for it, at any rate, not +at a house like this. We have, moreover, the best under-ostler in all +England--old Bill, with the drawback that he is rather fond of drink. We +could make shift with him very well, provided we could fall in with a man +of writing and figures, who could give an account of the hay and corn +which comes in and goes out, and wouldn't object to give a look +occasionally at the yard. Now it appears to me that you are just such a +kind of man, and, if you will allow me to speak to the governor, I don't +doubt that he will gladly take you, as he feels kindly disposed towards +you from what he has heard me say concerning you." + +"And what should I do with my horse?" said I. + +"The horse need give you no uneasiness," said the postillion; "I know he +will be welcome here both for bed and manger, and, perhaps, in a little +time you may find a purchaser, as a vast number of sporting people +frequent this house." I offered two or three more objections, which the +postillion overcame with great force of argument, and the pot being +nearly empty, he drained it to the bottom drop, and then starting up, +left me alone. + +In about twenty minutes he returned, accompanied by a highly intelligent- +looking individual, dressed in blue and black, with a particularly white +cravat, and without a hat on his head: this individual, whom I should +have mistaken for a gentleman but for the intelligence depicted in his +face, he introduced to me as the master of the inn. The master of the +inn shook me warmly by the hand, told me that he was happy to see me in +his house, and thanked me in the handsomest terms for the kindness I had +shown to his servant in the affair of the thunderstorm. Then saying that +he was informed I was out of employ, he assured me that he should be most +happy to engage me to keep his hay and corn account, and as general +superintendent of the yard, and that with respect to the horse, which he +was told I had, he begged to inform me that I was perfectly at liberty to +keep it at the inn upon the very best, until I could find a +purchaser,--that with regard to wages--but he had no sooner mentioned +wages than I cut him short, saying, that provided I stayed I should be +most happy to serve him for bed and board, and requested that he would +allow me until the next morning to consider of his offer; he willingly +consented to my request, and, begging that I would call for anything I +pleased, left me alone with the postillion. + +I passed that night until about ten o'clock with the postillion, when he +left me, having to drive a family about ten miles across the country; +before his departure, however, I told him that I had determined to accept +the offer of his governor, as he called him. At the bottom of my heart I +was most happy that an offer had been made, which secured to myself and +the animal a comfortable retreat at a moment when I knew not whither in +the world to take myself and him. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + + +An Inn of Times gone by--A First-rate Publican--Hay and +Corn--Old-fashioned Ostler--Highwaymen--Mounted Police--Grooming. + +The inn, of which I had become an inhabitant, was a place of infinite +life and bustle. Travellers of all descriptions, from all the cardinal +points, were continually stopping at it; and to attend to their wants, +and minister to their convenience, an army of servants, of one +description or other, was kept; waiters, chambermaids, grooms, +postillions, shoe-blacks, cooks, scullions, and what not, for there was a +barber and hair-dresser, who had been at Paris, and talked French with a +cockney accent; the French sounding all the better, as no accent is so +melodious as the cockney. Jacks creaked in the kitchens turning round +spits, on which large joints of meat piped and smoked before great big +fires. There was running up and down stairs, and along galleries, +slamming of doors, cries of "Coming, sir," and "Please to step this way, +ma'am," during eighteen hours of the four-and-twenty. Truly a very great +place for life and bustle was this inn. And often in after life, when +lonely and melancholy, I have called up the time I spent there, and never +failed to become cheerful from the recollection. + +I found the master of the house a very kind and civil person. Before +being an inn-keeper he had been in some other line of business; but on +the death of the former proprietor of the inn had married his widow, who +was still alive, but, being somewhat infirm, lived in a retired part of +the house. I have said that he was kind and civil; he was, however, not +one of those people who suffer themselves to be made fools of by anybody; +he knew his customers, and had a calm, clear eye, which would look +through a man without seeming to do so. The accommodation of his house +was of the very best description; his wines were good, his viands equally +so, and his charges not immoderate; though he very properly took care of +himself. He was no vulgar inn-keeper, had a host of friends, and +deserved them all. During the time I lived with him, he was presented by +a large assemblage of his friends and customers with a dinner at his own +house, which was very costly, and at which the best of wines were +sported, and after the dinner with a piece of plate estimated at fifty +guineas. He received the plate, made a neat speech of thanks, and when +the bill was called for, made another neat speech, in which he refused to +receive one farthing for the entertainment, ordering in at the same time +two dozen more of the best champagne, and sitting down amidst uproarious +applause, and cries of "You shall be no loser by it!" Nothing very +wonderful in such conduct, some people will say; I don't say there is, +nor have I any intention to endeavour to persuade the reader that the +landlord was a Carlo Boromeo; he merely gave a quid pro quo; but it is +not every person who will give you a quid pro quo. Had he been a vulgar +publican, he would have sent in a swinging bill after receiving the +plate; "but then no vulgar publican would have been presented with +plate;" perhaps not, but many a vulgar public character has been +presented with plate, whose admirers never received a quid pro quo, +except in the shape of a swinging bill. + +I found my duties of distributing hay and corn, and keeping an account +thereof, anything but disagreeable, particularly after I had acquired the +good-will of the old ostler, who at first looked upon me with rather an +evil eye, considering me somewhat in the light of one who had usurped an +office which belonged to himself by the right of succession; but there +was little gall in the old fellow, and, by speaking kindly to him, never +giving myself any airs of assumption; but, above all, by frequently +reading the newspapers to him--for though passionately fond of news and +politics, he was unable to read--I soon succeeded in placing myself on +excellent terms with him. A regular character was that old ostler; he +was a Yorkshireman by birth, but had seen a great deal of life in the +vicinity of London, to which, on the death of his parents, who were very +poor people, he went at a very early age. Amongst other places where he +had served as ostler was a small inn at Hounslow, much frequented by +highwaymen, whose exploits he was fond of narrating, especially those of +Jerry Abershaw, who, he said, was a capital rider; and on hearing his +accounts of that worthy, I half regretted that the old fellow had not +been in London, and I had not formed his acquaintance about the time I +was thinking of writing the life of the said Abershaw, not doubting that +with his assistance, I could have produced a book at least as remarkable +as the life and adventures of that entirely imaginary personage Joseph +Sell; perhaps, however, I was mistaken; and whenever Abershaw's life +shall appear before the public--and my publisher credibly informs me that +it has not yet appeared--I beg and entreat the public to state which it +likes best, the life of Abershaw, or that of Sell, for which latter work +I am informed that during the last few months there has been a prodigious +demand. My old friend, however, after talking of Abershaw, would +frequently add, that, good rider as Abershaw certainly was, he was +decidedly inferior to Richard Ferguson, generally called Galloping Dick, +who was a pal of Abershaw's, and had enjoyed a career as long, and nearly +as remarkable as his own. I learned from him that both were capital +customers at the Hounslow inn, and that he had frequently drank with them +in the corn-room. He said that no man could desire more jolly or +entertaining companions over a glass of "summut;" but that upon the road +it was anything but desirable to meet them; there they were terrible, +cursing and swearing, and thrusting the muzzles of their pistols into +people's mouths; and at this part of his locution the old man winked, and +said, in a somewhat lower voice, that upon the whole they were right in +doing so, and that when a person had once made up his mind to become a +highwayman, his best policy was to go the whole hog, fearing nothing, but +making everybody afraid of him; that people never thought of resisting a +savage-faced, foul-mouthed highwayman, and if he were taken, were afraid +to bear witness against him, lest he should get off and cut their throats +some time or other upon the roads; whereas people would resist being +robbed by a sneaking, pale-visaged rascal, and would swear bodily against +him on the first opportunity,--adding, that Abershaw and Ferguson, two +most awful fellows, had enjoyed a long career, whereas two disbanded +officers of the army, who wished to rob a coach like gentlemen, had +begged the passengers' pardon, and talked of hard necessity, had been set +upon by the passengers themselves, amongst whom were three women, pulled +from their horses, conducted to Maidstone, and hanged with as little pity +as such contemptible fellows deserved. "There is nothing like going the +whole hog," he repeated, "and if ever I had been a highwayman, I would +have done so; I should have thought myself all the more safe; and, +moreover, shouldn't have despised myself. To curry favour with those you +are robbing, sometimes at the expense of your own comrades, as I have +known fellows do, why, it is the greatest--" + +"So it is," interposed my friend the postillion, who chanced to be +present at a considerable part of the old ostler's discourse; "it is, as +you say, the greatest of humbug, and merely, after all, gets a fellow +into trouble; but no regular bred highwayman would do it. I say, George, +catch the Pope of Rome trying to curry favour with anybody he robs; catch +old Mumbo Jumbo currying favour with the Archbishop of Canterbury and the +Dean and Chapter, should he meet them in a stage-coach; it would be with +him, Bricconi Abbasso, as he knocked their teeth out with the butt of his +trombone; and the old regular-built ruffian would be all the safer for +it, as Bill would say, as ten to one the Archbishop and Chapter, after +such a spice of his quality, would be afraid to swear against him, and to +hang him, even if he were in their power, though that would be the proper +way; for, if it is the greatest of all humbug for a highwayman to curry +favour with those he robs, the next greatest is to try to curry favour +with a highwayman when you have got him, by letting him off." + +Finding the old man so well acquainted with the history of highwaymen, +and taking considerable interest in the subject, having myself edited a +book containing the lives of many remarkable people who had figured on +the highway, I forthwith asked him how it was that the trade of +highwaymen had become extinct in England, as at present we never heard of +any one following it. Whereupon he told me that many causes had +contributed to bring about that result; the principal of which were the +following:--the refusal to license houses which were known to afford +shelter to highwaymen, which, amongst many others, had caused the inn at +Hounslow to be closed; the inclosure of many a wild heath in the country, +on which they were in the habit of lurking, and particularly the +establishing in the neighbourhood of London of a well-armed mounted +patrol, who rode the highwaymen down, and delivered them up to justice, +which hanged them without ceremony. + +"And that would be the way to deal with Mumbo Jumbo and his gang," said +the postillion, "should they show their visages in these realms; and I +hear by the newspapers that they are becoming every day more desperate. +Take away the license from their public-houses, cut down the rookeries +and shadowy old avenues in which they are fond of lying in wait, in order +to sally out upon people as they pass in the roads; but, above all, +establish a good mounted police to ride after the ruffians and drag them +by the scruff of the neck to the next clink, where they might lie till +they could be properly dealt with by law; instead of which, the +Government are repealing the wise old laws enacted against such +characters, giving fresh licenses every day to their public-houses, and +saying that it would be a pity to cut down their rookeries and thickets +because they look so very picturesque; and, in fact, giving them all kind +of encouragement; why, if such behaviour is not enough to drive an honest +man mad, I know not what is. It is of no use talking, I only wish the +power were in my hands, and if I did not make short work of them, might I +be a mere jackass postillion all the remainder of my life." + +Besides acquiring from the ancient ostler a great deal of curious +information respecting the ways and habits of the heroes of the road, +with whom he had come in contact in the early portion of his life, I +picked up from him many excellent hints relating to the art of grooming +horses. Whilst at the inn, I frequently groomed the stage and +post-horses, and those driven up by travellers in their gigs: I was not +compelled, nor indeed expected, to do so; but I took pleasure in the +occupation; and I remember at that period one of the principal objects of +my ambition was to be a first-rate groom, and to make the skins of the +creatures I took in hand look sleek and glossy like those of moles. I +have said that I derived valuable hints from the old man, and, indeed, +became a very tolerable groom, but there was a certain finishing touch +which I could never learn from him, though he possessed it himself, and +which I could never attain to by my own endeavours; though my want of +success certainly did not proceed from want of application, for I have +rubbed the horses down, purring and buzzing all the time, after the +genuine ostler fashion, until the perspiration fell in heavy drops upon +my shoes, and when I had done my best and asked the old fellow what he +thought of my work, I could never extract from him more than a kind of +grunt, which might be translated, "Not so very bad, but I have seen a +horse groomed much better," which leads me to suppose that a person, in +order to be a first-rate groom, must have something in him when he is +born which I had not, and, indeed, which many other people have not who +pretend to be grooms. What does the reader think? + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + + +Stable Hartshorn--How to Manage a Horse on a Journey--Your Best Friend. + +Of one thing I am certain, that the reader must be much delighted with +the wholesome smell of the stable, with which many of these pages are +redolent; what a contrast to the sickly odours exhaled from those of some +of my contemporaries, especially of those who pretend to be of the highly +fashionable class, and who treat of reception-rooms, well may they be +styled so, in which dukes, duchesses, earls, countesses, archbishops, +bishops, mayors, mayoresses--not forgetting the writers themselves, both +male and female--congregate and press upon one another; how cheering, how +refreshing, after having been nearly knocked down with such an +atmosphere, to come in contact with genuine stable hartshorn. Oh! the +reader shall have yet more of the stable, and of that old ostler, for +which he or she will doubtless exclaim, "Much obliged!"--and, lest I +should forget to perform my promise, the reader shall have it now. + +I shall never forget an harangue from the mouth of the old man, which I +listened to one warm evening as he and I sat on the threshold of the +stable, after having attended to some of the wants of a batch of coach- +horses. It related to the manner in which a gentleman should take care +of his horse and self, whilst engaged in a journey on horseback, and was +addressed to myself, on the supposition of my one day coming to an +estate, and of course becoming a gentleman. + +"When you are a gentleman," said he, "should you ever wish to take a +journey on a horse of your own, and you could not have a much better than +the one you have here eating its fill in the box yonder--I wonder, by the +bye, how you ever came by it--you can't do better than follow the advice +I am about to give you, both with respect to your animal and yourself. +Before you start, merely give your horse a couple of handfuls of corn and +a little water, somewhat under a quart, and if you drink a pint of water +yourself out of the pail, you will feel all the better during the whole +day; then you may walk and trot your animal for about ten miles, till you +come to some nice inn, where you may get down and see your horse led into +a nice stall, telling the ostler not to feed him till you come. If the +ostler happens to be a dog-fancier, and has an English terrier-dog like +that of mine there, say what a nice dog it is, and praise its black and +tawn; and if he does not happen to be a dog-fancier, ask him how he's +getting on, and whether he ever knew worse times; that kind of thing will +please the ostler, and he will let you do just what you please with your +own horse, and when your back is turned, he'll say to his comrades what a +nice gentleman you are, and how he thinks he has seen you before; then go +and sit down to breakfast, and, before you have finished breakfast, get +up and go and give your horse a feed of corn; chat with the ostler two or +three minutes till your horse has taken the shine out of his corn, which +will prevent the ostler taking any of it away when your back is turned, +for such things are sometimes done--not that I ever did such a thing +myself when I was at the inn at Hounslow. Oh, dear me, no! Then go and +finish your breakfast, and when you have finished your breakfast and +called for the newspaper, go and water your horse, letting him have one +pailful, then give him another feed of corn, and enter into discourse +with the ostler about bull-baiting, the prime minister, and the like; and +when your horse has once more taken the shine out of his corn, go back to +your room and your newspaper--and I hope for your sake it may be the +_Globe_, for that's the best paper going--then pull the bell-rope and +order in your bill, which you will pay without counting it up--supposing +you to be a gentleman. Give the waiter sixpence, and order out your +horse, and when your horse is out, pay for the corn, and give the ostler +a shilling, then mount your horse and walk him gently for five miles; and +whilst you are walking him in this manner, it may be as well to tell you +to take care that you do not let him down and smash his knees, more +especially if the road be a particularly good one, for it is not at a +desperate hiverman pace, and over very bad roads, that a horse tumbles +and smashes his knees, but on your particularly nice road, when the horse +is going gently and lazily, and is half asleep, like the gemman on his +back; well, at the end of the five miles, when the horse has digested his +food, and is all right, you may begin to push your horse on, trotting him +a mile at a heat, and then walking him a quarter of a one, that his wind +may be not distressed; and you may go on in that way for thirty miles, +never galloping, of course, for none but fools or hivermen ever gallop +horses on roads; and at the end of that distance you may stop at some +other nice inn to dinner. I say, when your horse is led into the stable, +after that same thirty miles' trotting and walking, don't let the saddle +be whisked off at once, for if you do your horse will have such a sore +back as will frighten you, but let your saddle remain on your horse's +back, with the girths loosened, till after his next feed of corn, and be +sure that he has no corn, much less water, till after a long hour and +more; after he is fed he may be watered to the tune of half a pail, and +then the ostler can give him a regular rub down; you may then sit down to +dinner, and when you have dined get up and see to your horse as you did +after breakfast, in fact, you must do much after the same fashion you did +at t'other inn; see to your horse, and by no means disoblige the ostler. +So when you have seen to your horse a second time, you will sit down to +your bottle of wine--supposing you to be a gentleman--and after you have +finished it, and your argument about the corn-laws with any commercial +gentleman who happens to be in the room, you may mount your horse +again--not forgetting to do the proper thing to the waiter and ostler; +you may mount your horse again and ride him, as you did before, for about +five and twenty miles, at the end of which you may put up for the night +after a very fair day's journey, for no gentleman--supposing he weighs +sixteen stone, as I suppose you will by the time you become a +gentleman--ought to ride a horse more than sixty-five miles in one day, +provided he has any regard for his horse's back, or his own either. See +to your horse at night, and have him well rubbed down. The next day you +may ride your horse forty miles, just as you please, but never foolishly, +and those forty miles will bring you to your journey's end, unless your +journey be a plaguy long one, and if so, never ride your horse more than +five and thirty miles a day, always, however, seeing him well fed, and +taking more care of him than yourself; which is but right and reasonable, +seeing as how the horse is the best animal of the two." + +"When you are a gentleman," said he, after a pause, "the first thing you +must think about is to provide yourself with a good horse for your own +particular riding; you will, perhaps, keep a coach and pair, but they +will be less your own than your lady's, should you have one, and your +young gentry, should you have any; or, if you have neither, for madam, +your housekeeper, and the upper female servants; so you need trouble your +head less about them, though, of course, you would not like to pay away +your money for screws; but be sure you get a good horse for your own +riding; and that you may have a good chance of having a good one, buy one +that's young and has plenty of belly--a little more than the one has +which you now have, though you are not yet a gentleman; you will, of +course, look to his head, his withers, legs and other points, but never +buy a horse at any price that has not plenty of belly; no horse that has +not belly is ever a good feeder, and a horse that a'n't a good feeder +can't be a good horse; never buy a horse that is drawn up in the belly +behind; a horse of that description can't feed, and can never carry +sixteen stone. + +"So when you have got such a horse be proud of it--as I daresay you are +of the one you have now--and wherever you go swear there a'n't another to +match it in the country, and if anybody gives you the lie, take him by +the nose and tweak it off, just as you would do if anybody were to speak +ill of your lady, or, for want of her, of your housekeeper. Take care of +your horse, as you would of the apple of your eye--I am sure I would, if +I were a gentleman, which I don't ever expect to be, and hardly wish, +seeing as how I am sixty-nine, and am rather too old to ride--yes, +cherish and take care of your horse as perhaps the best friend you have +in the world; for, after all, who will carry you through thick and thin +as your horse will? not your gentlemen friends, I warrant, nor your upper +servants, male or female; perhaps your lady would, that is, if she is a +whopper, and one of the right sort; the others would be more likely to +take up mud and pelt you with it, provided they saw you in trouble, than +to help you. So take care of your horse, and feed him every day with +your own hands; give him three quarters of a peck of corn each day, mixed +up with a little hay-chaff, and allow him besides one hundredweight of +hay in the course of the week; some say that the hay should be hardland +hay, because it is the wholesomest, but I say, let it be clover hay, +because the horse likes it best; give him through summer and winter, once +a week, a pailful of bran mash, cold in summer and in winter hot; ride +him gently about the neighbourhood every day, by which means you will +give exercise to yourself and horse, and, moreover, have the satisfaction +of exhibiting yourself and your horse to advantage, and hearing, perhaps, +the men say what a fine horse, and the ladies saying what a fine man: +never let your groom mount your horse, as it is ten to one, if you do, +your groom will be wishing to show off before company, and will fling +your horse down. I was groom to a gemman before I went to the inn at +Hounslow, and flung him a horse down worth ninety guineas, by +endeavouring to show off before some ladies that I met on the road. Turn +your horse out to grass throughout May and the first part of June, for +then the grass is sweetest, and the flies don't sting so bad as they do +later in summer; afterwards merely turn him out occasionally in the swale +of the morn and the evening; after September the grass is good for +little, lash and sour at best; every horse should go out to grass, if not +his blood becomes full of greasy humours, and his wind is apt to become +affected, but he ought to be kept as much as possible from the heat and +flies, always got up at night, and never turned out late in the +year--Lord! if I had always such a nice attentive person to listen to me +as you are, I could go on talking about 'orses to the end of time." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + + +The Stage--Coachmen of England--A Bully Served Out--Broughton's Guard--The +Brazen Head. + +I lived on very good terms, not only with the master and the old ostler, +but with all the domestics and hangers on at the inn; waiters, +chambermaids, cooks, and scullions, not forgetting the "boots," of which +there were three. As for the postillions, I was sworn brother with them +all, and some of them went so far as to swear that I was the best fellow +in the world; for which high opinion entertained by them of me, I believe +I was principally indebted to the good account their comrade gave of me, +whom I had so hospitably received in the dingle. I repeat that I lived +on good terms with all the people connected with the inn, and was noticed +and spoken kindly to by some of the guests--especially by that class +termed commercial travellers--all of whom were great friends and +patronizers of the landlord, and were the principal promoters of the +dinner, and subscribers to the gift of plate, which I have already spoken +of, the whole fraternity striking me as the jolliest set of fellows +imaginable, the best customers to an inn, and the most liberal to +servants; there was one description of persons, however, frequenting the +inn, which I did not like at all, and which I did not get on well with, +and these people were the stage-coachmen. + +The stage-coachmen of England, at the time of which I am speaking, +considered themselves mighty fine gentry, nay, I verily believe the most +important personages of the realm, and their entertaining this high +opinion of themselves can scarcely be wondered at; they were low fellows, +but masters at driving; driving was in fashion, and sprigs of nobility +used to dress as coachmen and imitate the slang and behaviour of the +coachmen, from whom occasionally they would take lessons in driving as +they sat beside them on the box, which post of honour any sprig of +nobility who happened to take a place on a coach claimed as his +unquestionable right; and these sprigs would smoke cigars and drink +sherry with the coachmen in bar-rooms, and on the road; and, when bidding +them farewell, would give them a guinea or a half-guinea, and shake them +by the hand, so that these fellows, being low fellows, very naturally +thought no small liquor of themselves, but would talk familiarly of their +friends lords so and so, the honourable misters so and so, and Sir Harry +and Sir Charles, and be wonderfully saucy to any one who was not a lord, +or something of the kind; and this high opinion of themselves received +daily augmentation from the servile homage paid them by the generality of +the untitled male passengers, especially those on the fore part of the +coach, who used to contend for the honour of sitting on the box with the +coachman when no sprig was nigh to put in his claim. Oh! what servile +homage these craven creatures did pay these same coach fellows, more +especially after witnessing this or t'other act of brutality practised +upon the weak and unoffending--upon some poor friendless woman travelling +with but little money, and perhaps a brace of hungry children with her, +or upon some thin and half-starved man travelling on the hind part of the +coach from London to Liverpool with only eighteen pence in his pocket +after his fare was paid, to defray his expenses on the road; for as the +insolence of these knights was vast, so was their rapacity enormous; they +had been so long accustomed to have crowns and half-crowns rained upon +them by their admirers and flatterers, that they would look at a +shilling, for which many an honest labourer was happy to toil for ten +hours under a broiling sun, with the utmost contempt; would blow upon it +derisively, or fillip it into the air before they pocketed it; but when +nothing was given them, as would occasionally happen--for how could they +receive from those who had nothing? and nobody was bound to give them +anything, as they had certain wages from their employers--then what a +scene would ensue! Truly the brutality and rapacious insolence of +English coachmen had reached a climax; it was time that these fellows +should be disenchanted, and the time--thank Heaven!--was not far distant. +Let the craven dastards who used to curry favour with them, and applaud +their brutality, lament their loss now that they and their vehicles have +disappeared from the roads; I, who have ever been an enemy to insolence, +cruelty, and tyranny, loathe their memory, and, what is more, am not +afraid to say so, well aware of the storm of vituperation, partly learnt +from them, which I may expect from those who used to fall down and +worship them. + +Amongst the coachmen who frequented the inn was one who was called "the +bang-up coachman." He drove to our inn, in the fore part of every day, +one of what were called the fast coaches, and afterwards took back the +corresponding vehicle. He stayed at our house about twenty minutes, +during which time the passengers of the coach which he was to return with +dined; those at least who were inclined for dinner, and could pay for it. +He derived his sobriquet of "the bang-up coachman" partly from his being +dressed in the extremity of coach dandyism, and partly from the peculiar +insolence of his manner, and the unmerciful fashion in which he was in +the habit of lashing on the poor horses committed to his charge. He was +a large tall fellow, of about thirty, with a face which, had it not been +bloated by excess, and insolence and cruelty stamped most visibly upon +it, might have been called good-looking. His insolence indeed was so +great, that he was hated by all the minor fry connected with coaches +along the road upon which he drove, especially the ostlers, whom he was +continually abusing or finding fault with. Many was the hearty curse +which he received when his back was turned; but the generality of people +were much afraid of him, for he was a swinging strong fellow, and had the +reputation of being a fighter, and in one or two instances had beaten in +a barbarous manner individuals who had quarrelled with him. + +I was nearly having a fracas with this worthy. One day, after he had +been drinking sherry with a sprig, he swaggered into the yard where I +happened to be standing; just then a waiter came by carrying upon a tray +part of a splendid Cheshire cheese, with a knife, plate, and napkin. +Stopping the waiter, the coachman cut with the knife a tolerably large +lump out of the very middle of the cheese, stuck it on the end of the +knife, and putting it to his mouth nibbled a slight piece off it, and +then, tossing the rest away with disdain, flung the knife down upon the +tray, motioning the waiter to proceed; "I wish," said I, "you may not +want before you die what you have just flung away," whereupon the fellow +turned furiously towards me; just then, however, his coach being standing +at the door, there was a cry for coachman, so that he was forced to +depart, contenting himself for the present with shaking his fist at me, +and threatening to serve me out on the first opportunity; before, +however, the opportunity occurred he himself got served out in a most +unexpected manner. + +The day after this incident he drove his coach to the inn, and after +having dismounted and received the contributions of the generality of the +passengers, he strutted up, with a cigar in his mouth, to an individual +who had come with him, and who had just asked me a question with respect +to the direction of a village about three miles off, to which he was +going. "Remember the coachman," said the knight of the box to this +individual, who was a thin person of about sixty, with a white hat, +rather shabby black coat, and buff-coloured trousers, and who held an +umbrella and a small bundle in his hand. "If you expect me to give you +anything," said he to the coachman, "you are mistaken; I will give you +nothing. You have been very insolent to me as I rode behind you on the +coach, and have encouraged two or three trumpery fellows, who rode along +with you, to cut scurvy jokes at my expense, and now you come to me for +money; I am not so poor, but I could have given you a shilling had you +been civil; as it is, I will give you nothing." "Oh! you won't, won't +you?" said the coachman; "dear me! I hope I shan't starve because you +won't give me anything--a shilling! why, I could afford to give you +twenty if I thought fit, you pauper! civil to you, indeed! things are +come to a fine pass if I need be civil to you! Do you know who you are +speaking to? why, the best lords in the country are proud to speak to me. +Why, it was only the other day that the Marquis of--said to me--" and +then he went on to say what the Marquis said to him; after which, +flinging down his cigar, he strutted up the road, swearing to himself +about paupers. + +"You say it is three miles to ---," said the individual to me; "I think I +shall light my pipe, and smoke it as I go along." Thereupon he took out +from a side-pocket a tobacco-box and short meerschaum pipe, and +implements for striking a light, filled his pipe, lighted it, and +commenced smoking. Presently the coachman drew near. I saw at once that +there was mischief in his eye; the man smoking was standing with his back +towards him, and he came so nigh to him, seemingly purposely, that as he +passed a puff of smoke came of necessity against his face. "What do you +mean by smoking in my face?" said he, striking the pipe of the elderly +individual out of his mouth. The other, without manifesting much +surprise, said, "I thank you; and if you will wait a minute, I will give +you a receipt for that favour;" then gathering up his pipe, and taking +off his coat and hat, he laid them on a stepping-block which stood near, +and rubbing his hands together, he advanced towards the coachman in an +attitude of offence, holding his hands crossed very near to his face. The +coachman, who probably expected anything but such a movement from a +person of the age and appearance of the individual whom he had insulted, +stood for a moment motionless with surprise; but, recollecting himself, +he pointed at him derisively with his finger; the next moment, however, +the other was close upon him, had struck aside the extended hand with his +left fist, and given him a severe blow on the nose with his right, which +he immediately followed by a left-hand blow in the eye; then drawing his +body slightly backward, with the velocity of lightning he struck the +coachman full in the mouth, and the last blow was the severest of all, +for it cut the coachman's lips nearly through; blows so quickly and +sharply dealt I had never seen. The coachman reeled like a fir-tree in a +gale, and seemed nearly unsensed. "Ho! what's this? a fight! a fight!" +sounded from a dozen voices, and people came running from all directions +to see what was going on. The coachman, coming somewhat to himself, +disencumbered himself of his coat and hat; and, encouraged by two or +three of his brothers of the whip, showed some symptoms of fighting, +endeavouring to close with his foe, but the attempt was vain, for his foe +was not to be closed with; he did not shift or dodge about, but warded +off the blows of his opponent with the greatest sang-froid, always using +the guard which I have already described, and putting in, in return, +short chopping blows with the swiftness of lightning. In a very few +minutes the countenance of the coachman was literally cut to pieces, and +several of his teeth were dislodged; at length he gave in; stung with +mortification, however, he repented, and asked for another round; it was +granted, to his own complete demolition. The coachman did not drive his +coach back that day, he did not appear on the box again for a week; but +he never held up his head afterwards. Before I quitted the inn, he had +disappeared from the road, going no one knew where. + +The coachman, as I have said before, was very much disliked upon the +road, but there was an esprit de corps amongst the coachmen, and those +who stood by did not like to see their brother chastised in such +tremendous fashion. "I never saw such a fight before," said one. "Fight! +why, I don't call it a fight at all; this chap here ha'n't got a scratch, +whereas Tom is cut to pieces; it is all along of that guard of his; if +Tom could have got within his guard he would have soon served the old +chap out." "So he would," said another, "it was all owing to that guard. +However, I think I see into it, and if I had not to drive this afternoon, +I would have a turn with the old fellow and soon serve him out." "I will +fight him now for a guinea," said the other coachman, half taking off his +coat; observing, however, that the elderly individual made a motion +towards him, he hitched it upon his shoulder again, and added, "that is, +if he had not been fighting already, but as it is, I am above taking an +advantage, especially of such a poor old creature as that." And when he +had said this, he looked around him, and there was a feeble titter of +approbation from two or three of the craven crew, who were in the habit +of currying favour with the coachmen. The elderly individual looked for +a moment at these last, and then said, "To such fellows as you I have +nothing to say;" then turning to the coachmen, "and as for you," he said, +"ye cowardly bullies, I have but one word, which is, that your reign upon +the roads is nearly over, and that a time is coming when ye will no +longer be wanted or employed in your present capacity, when ye will +either have to drive dung-carts, assist as ostlers at village ale-houses, +or rot in the workhouse." Then putting on his coat and hat, and taking +up his bundle, not forgetting his meerschaum, and the rest of his smoking +apparatus, he departed on his way. Filled with curiosity, I followed +him. + +"I am quite astonished that you should be able to use your hands in the +way you have done," said I, as I walked with this individual in the +direction in which he was bound. + +"I will tell you how I became able to do so," said the elderly +individual, proceeding to fill and light his pipe as he walked along. "My +father was a journeyman engraver, who lived in a very riotous +neighbourhood in the outskirts of London. Wishing to give me something +of an education, he sent me to a day-school, two or three streets distant +from where we lived, and there, being rather a puny boy, I suffered much +persecution from my schoolfellows, who were a very blackguard set. One +day, as I was running home, with one of my tormentors pursuing me, old +Sergeant Broughton, the retired fighting-man, seized me by the arm--" + +"Dear me," said I, "has it ever been your luck to be acquainted with +Sergeant Broughton?" + +"You may well call it luck," said the elderly individual; "but for him I +should never have been able to make my way through the world. He lived +only four doors from our house; so, as I was running along the street, +with my tyrant behind me, Sergeant Broughton seized me by the arm. 'Stop, +my boy,' said he; 'I have frequently seen that scamp ill-treating you; +now I will teach you how to send him home with a bloody nose; down with +your bag of books; and now, my game chick,' whispered he to me, placing +himself between me and my adversary, so that he could not observe his +motions; 'clench your fist in this manner, and hold your arms in this, +and when he strikes at you, move them as I now show you, and he can't +hurt you; now, don't be afraid, but go at him.' I confess that I was +somewhat afraid, but I considered myself in some degree under the +protection of the famous Sergeant, and, clenching my fist, I went at my +foe, using the guard which my ally recommended. The result corresponded +to a certain degree with the predictions of the Sergeant; I gave my foe a +bloody nose and a black eye, though, notwithstanding my recent lesson in +the art of self-defence, he contrived to give me two or three clumsy +blows. From that moment I was the especial favourite of the Sergeant, +who gave me further lessons, so that in a little time I became a very +fair boxer, beating everybody of my own size who attacked me. The old +gentleman, however, made me promise never to be quarrelsome, nor to turn +his instructions to account, except in self-defence. I have always borne +in mind my promise, and have made it a point of conscience never to fight +unless absolutely compelled. Folks may rail against boxing if they +please, but being able to box may sometimes stand a quiet man in good +stead. How should I have fared to-day, but for the instructions of +Sergeant Broughton? But for them, the brutal ruffian who insulted me +must have passed unpunished. He will not soon forget the lesson which I +have just given him--the only lesson he could understand. What would +have been the use of reasoning with a fellow of that description? Brave +old Broughton! I owe him much." + +"And your manner of fighting," said I, "was the manner employed by +Sergeant Broughton?" + +"Yes," said my new acquaintance; "it was the manner in which he beat +every one who attempted to contend with him, till, in an evil hour, he +entered the ring with Slack, without any training or preparation, and by +a chance blow lost the battle to a man who had been beaten with ease by +those who, in the hands of Broughton, appeared like so many children. It +was the way of fighting of him who first taught Englishmen to box +scientifically, who was the head and father of the fighters of what is +now called the old school, the last of which were Johnson and Big Ben." + +"A wonderful man, that Big Ben," said I. + +"He was so," said the elderly individual; "but had it not been for +Broughton, I question whether Ben would have ever been the fighter he +was. Oh! there was no one like old Broughton; but for him I should at +the present moment be sneaking along the road, pursued by the hissings +and hootings of the dirty flatterers of that blackguard coachman." + +"What did you mean," said I, "by those words of yours, that the coachmen +would speedily disappear from the roads?" + +"I meant," said he, "that a new method of travelling is about to be +established, which will supersede the old. I am a poor engraver, as my +father was before me; but engraving is an intellectual trade, and by +following it, I have been brought in contact with some of the cleverest +men in England. It has even made me acquainted with the projector of the +scheme, which he has told me many of the wisest heads of England have +been dreaming of during a period of six hundred years, and which it seems +was alluded to by a certain Brazen Head in the story-book of Friar Bacon, +who is generally supposed to have been a wizard, but in reality was a +great philosopher. Young man, in less than twenty years, by which time I +shall be dead and gone, England will be surrounded with roads of metal, +on which armies may travel with mighty velocity, and of which the walls +of brass and iron by which the friar proposed to defend his native land +are the types." He then, shaking me by the hand, proceeded on his way, +whilst I returned to the inn. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + + +Francis Ardry--His Misfortunes--Dog and Lion Fight--Great Men of the +World. + +A few days after the circumstance which I have last commemorated, it +chanced that, as I was standing at the door of the inn, one of the +numerous stage-coaches which were in the habit of stopping there, drove +up, and several passengers got down. I had assisted a woman with a +couple of children to dismount, and had just delivered to her a band-box, +which appeared to be her only property, which she had begged me to fetch +down from the roof, when I felt a hand laid upon my shoulder, and heard a +voice exclaim, "Is it possible, old fellow, that I find you in this +place?" I turned round, and, wrapped in a large blue cloak, I beheld my +good friend Francis Ardry. I shook him most warmly by the hand, and +said, "If you are surprised to see me, I am no less so to see you; where +are you bound to?" + +"I am bound for L-; at any rate, I am booked for that sea-port," said my +friend in reply. + +"I am sorry for it," said I, "for in that case we shall have to part in a +quarter of an hour, the coach by which you came stopping no longer." + +"And whither are you bound?" demanded my friend. + +"I am stopping at present in this house, quite undetermined as to what to +do." + +"Then come along with me," said Francis Ardry. + +"That I can scarcely do," said I; "I have a horse in the stall which I +cannot afford to ruin by racing to L--- by the side of your coach." + +My friend mused for a moment: "I have no particular business at L---," +said he; "I was merely going thither to pass a day or two, till an +affair, in which I am deeply interested, at C--- shall come off. I think +I shall stay with you for four-and-twenty hours at least; I have been +rather melancholy of late, and cannot afford to part with a friend like +you at the present moment; it is an unexpected piece of good fortune to +have met you; and I have not been very fortunate of late," he added, +sighing. + +"Well," said I, "I am glad to see you once more, whether fortunate, or +not; where is your baggage?" + +"Yon trunk is mine," said Francis, pointing to a trunk of black Russian +leather upon the coach. + +"We will soon have it down," said I; and at a word which I gave to one of +the hangers-on of the inn, the trunk was taken from the top of the coach. +"Now," said I to Francis Ardry, "follow me, I am a person of some +authority in this house;" thereupon I led Francis Ardry into the house, +and a word which I said to a waiter forthwith installed Francis Ardry in +a comfortable private sitting-room, and his trunk in the very best +sleeping-room of our extensive establishment. + +It was now about one o'clock: Francis Ardry ordered dinner for two, to be +ready at four, and a pint of sherry to be brought forthwith, which I +requested my friend the waiter might be the very best, and which in +effect turned out as I requested; we sat down, and when we had drunk to +each other's health, Frank requested me to make known to him how I had +contrived to free myself from my embarrassments in London, what I had +been about since I quitted that city, and the present posture of my +affairs. + +I related to Francis Ardry how I had composed the Life of Joseph Sell, +and how the sale of it to the bookseller had enabled me to quit London +with money in my pocket, which had supported me during a long course of +ramble in the country, into the particulars of which I, however, did not +enter with any considerable degree of fulness. I summed up my account by +saying that "I was at present a kind of overlooker in the stables of the +inn, had still some pounds in my purse, and, moreover, a capital horse in +the stall." + +"No very agreeable posture of affairs," said Francis Ardry, looking +rather seriously at me. + +"I make no complaints," said I, "my prospects are not very bright, it is +true, but sometimes I have visions both waking and sleeping, which, +though always strange, are invariably agreeable. Last night, in my +chamber near the hayloft, I dreamt that I had passed over an almost +interminable wilderness--an enormous wall rose before me, the wall, +methought, was the great wall of China:--strange figures appeared to be +beckoning to me from the top of the wall; such visions are not exactly to +be sneered at. Not that such phantasmagoria," said I, raising my voice, +"are to be compared for a moment with such desirable things as fashion, +fine clothes, cheques from uncles, parliamentary interest, the love of +splendid females. Ah! woman's love," said I, and sighed. + +"What's the matter with the fellow?" said Francis Ardry. + +"There is nothing like it," said I. + +"Like what?" + +"Love, divine love," said I. + +"Confound love," said Francis Ardry, "I hate the very name; I have made +myself a pretty fool by it, but trust me for ever being at such folly +again. In an evil hour I abandoned my former pursuits and amusements for +it; in one morning spent at Joey's there was more real pleasure than in--" + +"Surely," said I, "you are not hankering after dog-fighting again, a +sport which none but the gross and unrefined care anything for? No, +one's thoughts should be occupied by something higher and more rational +than dog-fighting; and what better than love--divine love? Oh, there's +nothing like it!" + +"Pray, don't talk nonsense," said Francis Ardry. + +"Nonsense," said I; "why I was repeating, to the best of my recollection, +what I heard you say on a former occasion." + +"If ever I talked such stuff," said Francis Ardry, "I was a fool; and +indeed I cannot deny that I have been one: no, there's no denying that I +have been a fool. What do you think? that false Annette has cruelly +abandoned me." + +"Well," said I, "perhaps you have yourself to thank for her having done +so; did you never treat her with coldness, and repay her marks of +affectionate interest with strange fits of eccentric humour?" + +"Lord! how little you know of women," said Francis Ardry; "had I done as +you suppose, I should probably have possessed her at the present moment. +I treated her in a manner diametrically opposite to that. I loaded her +with presents, was always most assiduous to her, always at her feet, as I +may say, yet she nevertheless abandoned me--and for whom? I am almost +ashamed to say--for a fiddler." + +I took a glass of wine, Francis Ardry followed my example, and then +proceeded to detail to me the treatment which he had experienced from +Annette, and from what he said, it appeared that her conduct to him had +been in the highest degree reprehensible; notwithstanding he had indulged +her in everything, she was never civil to him, but loaded him continually +with taunts and insults, and had finally, on his being unable to supply +her with a sum of money which she had demanded, decamped from the +lodgings which he had taken for her, carrying with her all the presents +which at various times he had bestowed upon her, and had put herself +under the protection of a gentleman who played the bassoon at the Italian +Opera, at which place it appeared that her sister had lately been engaged +as a danseuse. My friend informed me that at first he had experienced +great agony at the ingratitude of Annette, but at last had made up his +mind to forget her, and, in order more effectually to do so, had left +London with the intention of witnessing a fight, which was shortly coming +off at a town in these parts, between some dogs and a lion; which combat, +he informed me, had for some time past been looked forward to with +intense eagerness by the gentlemen of the sporting world. + +I commended him for his resolution, at the same time advising him not to +give up his mind entirely to dog-fighting, as he had formerly done, but, +when the present combat should be over, to return to his rhetorical +studies, and above all to marry some rich and handsome lady on the first +opportunity, as, with his person and expectations, he had only to sue for +the hand of the daughter of a marquis to be successful, telling him, with +a sigh, that all women were not Annettes, and that, upon the whole, there +was nothing like them. To which advice he answered, that he intended to +return to rhetoric as soon as the lion fight should be over, but that he +never intended to marry, having had enough of women; adding that he was +glad he had no sister, as, with the feelings which he entertained with +respect to her sex, he should be unable to treat her with common +affection, and concluded by repeating a proverb which he had learnt from +an Arab whom he had met at Venice, to the effect, that, "one who has been +stung by a snake, shivers at the sight of a sting." + +After a little more conversation, we strolled to the stable, where my +horse was standing; my friend, who was a connoisseur in horseflesh, +surveyed the animal with attention, and after inquiring where and how I +had obtained him, asked what I intended to do with him; on my telling him +that I was undetermined, and that I was afraid the horse was likely to +prove a burden to me, he said, "It is a noble animal, and if you mind +what you are about, you may make a small fortune by him. I do not want +such an animal myself, nor do I know any one who does; but a great horse- +fair will be held shortly at a place where, it is true, I have never +been, but of which I have heard a great deal from my acquaintances, where +it is said a first-rate horse is always sure to fetch its value; that +place is Horncastle, in Lincolnshire, you should take him thither." + +Francis Ardry and myself dined together, and after dinner partook of a +bottle of the best port which the inn afforded. After a few glasses, we +had a great deal of conversation; I again brought the subject of marriage +and love, divine love, upon the carpet, but Francis almost immediately +begged me to drop it; and on my having the delicacy to comply, he +reverted to dog-fighting, on which he talked well and learnedly; amongst +other things, he said it was a princely sport of great antiquity, and +quoted from Quintus Curtius to prove that the princes of India must have +been of the fancy, they having, according to that author, treated +Alexander to a fight between certain dogs and a lion. Becoming, +notwithstanding my friend's eloquence and learning, somewhat tired of the +subject, I began to talk about Alexander. Francis Ardry said he was one +of the two great men whom the world has produced, the other being +Napoleon; I replied that I believed Tamerlane was a greater man than +either; but Francis Ardry knew nothing of Tamerlane, save what he had +gathered from the play of Timour the Tartar. "No," said he, "Alexander +and Napoleon are the great men of the world, their names are known +everywhere. Alexander has been dead upwards of two thousand years, but +the very English bumpkins sometimes christen their boys by the name of +Alexander--can there be a greater evidence of his greatness? As for +Napoleon, there are some parts of India in which his bust is worshipped." +Wishing to make up a triumvirate, I mentioned the name of Wellington, to +which Francis Ardry merely said, "bah!" and resumed the subject of dog- +fighting. + +Francis Ardry remained at the inn during that day and the next, and then +departed to the dog and lion fight; I never saw him afterwards, and +merely heard of him once after a lapse of some years, and what I then +heard was not exactly what I could have wished to hear. He did not make +much of the advantages which he possessed, a pity, for how great were +those advantages--person, intellect, eloquence, connection, riches! yet, +with all these advantages, one thing highly needful seems to have been +wanting in Francis. A desire, a craving, to perform something great and +good. Oh! what a vast deal may be done with intellect, courage, riches, +accompanied by the desire of doing something great and good! Why, a +person may carry the blessings of civilization and religion to barbarous, +yet at the same time beautiful and romantic lands; and what a triumph +there is for him who does so! what a crown of glory! of far greater value +than those surrounding the brows of your mere conquerors. Yet who has +done so in these times? Not many; not three, not two, something seems to +have been always wanting; there is, however, one instance, in which the +various requisites have been united, and the crown, the most desirable in +the world--at least which I consider to be the most desirable--achieved, +and only one, that of Brooke of Borneo. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + + +Mr. Platitude and the Man in Black--The Postillion's Adventures--The Lone +House--A Goodly Assemblage. + +It never rains, but it pours. I was destined to see at this inn more +acquaintances than one. On the day of Francis Ardry's departure, shortly +after he had taken leave of me, as I was standing in the corn-chamber, at +a kind of writing-table or desk, fastened to the wall, with a book before +me, in which I was making out an account of the corn and hay lately +received and distributed, my friend the postillion came running in out of +breath. "Here they both are," he gasped out; "pray do come and look at +them." + +"Whom do you mean?" said I. + +"Why, that red-haired Jack Priest, and that idiotic parson, Platitude; +they have just been set down by one of the coaches, and want a postchaise +to go across the country in; and what do you think? I am to have the +driving of them. I have no time to lose, for I must get myself ready; so +do come and look at them." + +I hastened into the yard of the inn; two or three of the helpers of our +establishment were employed in drawing forward a postchaise out of the +chaise-house, which occupied one side of the yard, and which was spacious +enough to contain nearly twenty of these vehicles, though it was never +full, several of them being always out upon the roads, as the demand upon +us for postchaises across the country was very great. "There they are," +said the postillion, softly, nodding towards two individuals, in one of +whom I recognized the man in black, and in the other Mr. Platitude; +"there they are; have a good look at them, while I go and get ready." The +man in black and Mr. Platitude were walking up and down the yard, Mr. +Platitude was doing his best to make himself appear ridiculous, talking +very loudly in exceedingly bad Italian, evidently for the purpose of +attracting the notice of the bystanders, in which he succeeded, all the +stable-boys and hangers-on about the yard, attracted by his vociferation, +grinning at his ridiculous figure as he limped up and down. The man in +black said little or nothing, but from the glances which he cast sideways +appeared to be thoroughly ashamed of his companion; the worthy couple +presently arrived close to where I was standing, and the man in black, +who was nearest to me, perceiving me, stood still as if hesitating, but +recovering himself in a moment, he moved on without taking any farther +notice; Mr. Platitude exclaimed as they passed in broken lingo, "I hope +we shall find the holy doctors all assembled," and as they returned, "I +make no doubt that they will all be rejoiced to see me." Not wishing to +be standing an idle gazer, I went to the chaise and assisted in attaching +the horses, which had now been brought out, to the pole. The postillion +presently arrived, and finding all ready took the reins and mounted the +box, whilst I very politely opened the door for the two travellers; Mr. +Platitude got in first, and, without taking any notice of me, seated +himself on the farther side. In got the man in black, and seated himself +nearest to me. "All is right," said I, as I shut the door, whereupon the +postillion cracked his whip, and the chaise drove out of the yard. Just +as I shut the door, however, and just as Mr. Platitude had recommenced +talking in jergo, at the top of his voice, the man in black turned his +face partly towards me, and gave me a wink with his left eye. + +I did not see my friend the postillion till the next morning, when he +gave me an account of the adventures he had met with on his expedition. +It appeared that he had driven the man in black and the Reverend +Platitude across the country by roads and lanes which he had some +difficulty in threading. At length, when he had reached a part of the +country where he had never been before, the man in black pointed out to +him a house near the corner of a wood, to which he informed him they were +bound. The postillion said it was a strange-looking house, with a wall +round it; and, upon the whole, bore something of the look of a madhouse. +There was already a postchaise at the gate, from which three individuals +had alighted--one of them the postillion said was a mean-looking +scoundrel, with a regular petty-larceny expression in his countenance. He +was dressed very much like the man in black, and the postillion said that +he could almost have taken his Bible oath that they were both of the same +profession. The other two he said were parsons, he could swear that, +though he had never seen them before; there could be no mistake about +them. Church of England parsons the postillion swore they were, with +their black coats, white cravats, and airs, in which clumsiness and +conceit were most funnily blended--Church of England parsons of the +Platitude description, who had been in Italy, and seen the Pope, and +kissed his toe, and picked up a little broken Italian, and come home +greater fools than they went forth. It appeared that they were all +acquaintances of Mr. Platitude, for when the postillion had alighted and +let Mr. Platitude and his companion out of the chaise, Mr. Platitude +shook the whole three by the hand, conversed with his two brothers in a +little broken jergo, and addressed the petty-larceny looking individual +by the title of Reverend Doctor. In the midst of these greetings, +however, the postillion said the man in black came up to him, and +proceeded to settle with him for the chaise; he had shaken hands with +nobody, and had merely nodded to the others; "and now," said the +postillion, "he evidently wished to get rid of me, fearing, probably, +that I should see too much of the nonsense that was going on. It was +whilst settling with me that he seemed to recognize me for the first +time, for he stared hard at me, and at last asked whether I had not been +in Italy; to which question, with a nod and a laugh, I replied that I +had. I was then going to ask him about the health of the image of Holy +Mary, and to say that I hoped it had recovered from its horsewhipping; +but he interrupted me, paid me the money for the fare, and gave me a +crown for myself, saying he would not detain me any longer. I say, +partner, I am a poor postillion, but when he gave me the crown I had a +good mind to fling it in his face. I reflected, however, that it was not +mere gift-money, but coin which I had earned, and hardly too, so I put it +in my pocket, and I bethought me, moreover, that, knave as I knew him to +be, he had always treated me with civility; so I nodded to him, and he +said something which, perhaps, he meant for Latin, but which sounded very +much like 'vails,' and by which he doubtless alluded to the money which +he had given me. He then went into the house with the rest, the coach +drove away which had brought the others, and I was about to get on the +box and follow; observing, however, two more chaises driving up, I +thought I would be in no hurry, so I just led my horses and chaise a +little out of the way, and pretending to be occupied about the harness, I +kept a tolerably sharp look-out at the new arrivals. Well, partner, the +next vehicle that drove up was a gentleman's carriage which I knew very +well, as well as those within it, who were a father and son, the father a +good kind old gentleman, and a justice of the peace, therefore not very +wise, as you may suppose; the son a puppy who has been abroad, where he +contrived to forget his own language, though only nine months absent, and +now rules the roast over his father and mother, whose only child he is, +and by whom he is thought wondrous clever. So this foreigneering chap +brings his poor old father to this out-of-the-way house to meet these +Platitudes and petty-larceny villains, and perhaps would have brought his +mother too, only, simple thing, by good fortune she happens to be laid up +with the rheumatic. Well, the father and son, I beg pardon, I mean the +son and father, got down and went in, and then after their carriage was +gone, the chaise behind drove up, in which was a huge fat fellow, +weighing twenty stone at least, but with something of a foreign look, and +with him--who do you think? Why, a rascally Unitarian minister, that is, +a fellow who had been such a minister, but who, some years ago leaving +his own people, who had bred him up and sent him to their college at +York, went over to the High Church, and is now, I suppose, going over to +some other church, for he was talking, as he got down, wondrous fast in +Latin, or what sounded something like Latin, to the fat fellow, who +appeared to take things wonderfully easy, and merely grunted to the dog +Latin which the scoundrel had learnt at the expense of the poor +Unitarians at York. So they went into the house, and presently arrived +another chaise, but ere I could make any further observations, the porter +of the out-of-the-way house came up to me, asking what I was stopping +there for? bidding me go away, and not pry into other people's business. +'Pretty business,' said I to him, 'that is being transacted in a place +like this,' and then I was going to say something uncivil, but he went to +attend to the new comers, and I took myself away on my own business as he +bade me, not, however, before observing that these two last were a couple +of blackcoats." + +The postillion then proceeded to relate how he made the best of his way +to a small public-house, about a mile off, where he had intended to bait, +and how he met on the way a landau and pair, belonging to a Scotch +coxcomb whom he had known in London, about whom he related some curious +particulars, and then continued: "Well, after I had passed him and his +turn-out, I drove straight to the public-house, where I baited my horses, +and where I found some of the chaises and drivers who had driven the +folks to the lunatic-looking mansion, and were now waiting to take them +up again. Whilst my horses were eating their bait, I sat me down, as the +weather was warm, at a table outside, and smoked a pipe, and drank some +ale, in company with the coachman of the old gentleman who had gone to +the house with his son, and the coachman then told me that the house was +a Papist house, and that the present was a grand meeting of all the fools +and rascals in the country, who came to bow down to images, and to +concert schemes--pretty schemes no doubt--for overturning the religion of +the country, and that for his part he did not approve of being concerned +with such doings, and that he was going to give his master warning next +day. So, as we were drinking and discoursing, up drove the chariot of +the Scotchman, and down got his valet and the driver, and whilst the +driver was seeing after the horses, the valet came and sat down at the +table where the gentleman's coachman and I were drinking. I knew the +fellow well, a Scotchman like his master, and just of the same kidney, +with white kid gloves, red hair frizzled, a patch of paint on his face, +and his hands covered with rings. This very fellow, I must tell you, was +one of those most busy in endeavouring to get me turned out of the +servants' club in Park Lane, because I happened to serve a literary man; +so he sat down, and in a kind of affected tone cried out, 'Landlord, +bring me a glass of cold negus.' The landlord, however, told him that +there was no negus, but that if he pleased, he could have a jug of as +good beer as any in the country. 'Confound the beer,' said the valet, +'do you think that I am accustomed to such vulgar beverage?' However, as +he found there was nothing better to be had, he let the man bring him +some beer, and when he had got it, soon showed that he could drink it +easily enough; so, when he had drunk two or three draughts, he turned his +eyes in a contemptuous manner, first, on the coachman, and then on me: I +saw the scamp recollected me, for after staring at me and my dress for +about half a minute, he put on a broad grin, and flinging his head back, +he uttered a loud laugh. Well, I did not like this, as you may well +believe, and taking the pipe out of my mouth, I asked him if he meant +anything personal, to which he answered, that he had said nothing to me, +and that he had a right to look where he pleased, and laugh when he +pleased. Well, as to a certain extent he was right, as to looking and +laughing; and as I have occasionally looked at a fool and laughed, though +I was not the fool in this instance, I put my pipe into my mouth and said +no more. This quiet and well-regulated behaviour of mine, however, the +fellow interpreted into fear; so, after drinking a little more, he +suddenly started up, and striding once or twice before the table, he +asked me what I meant by that impertinent question of mine, saying that +he had a good mind to wring my nose for my presumption. 'You have?' said +I, getting up, and laying down my pipe. 'Well, I'll now give you an +opportunity.' So I put myself in an attitude, and went up to him, saying +'I have an old score to settle with you, you scamp; you wanted to get me +turned out of the club, didn't you?' And thereupon, remembering that he +had threatened to wring my nose, I gave him a snorter upon his own. I +wish you could have seen the fellow when he felt the smart; so far from +trying to defend himself, he turned round, and with his hand to his face, +attempted to run away; but I was now in a regular passion, and following +him up, got before him, and was going to pummel away at him, when he +burst into tears, and begged me not to hurt him, saying that he was sorry +if he had offended me, and that, if I pleased, he would go down on his +knees, or do anything else I wanted. Well, when I heard him talk in this +manner, I, of course, let him be; I could hardly help laughing at the +figure he cut; his face all blubbered with tears, and blood and paint; +but I did not laugh at the poor creature either, but went to the table +and took up my pipe, and smoked and drank as if nothing had happened; and +the fellow, after having been to the pump, came and sat down, crying, and +trying to curry favour with me and the coachman; presently, however, +putting on a confidential look, he began to talk of the Popish house, and +of the doings there, and said he supposed as how we were of the party, +and that it was all right; and then he began to talk of the Pope of Rome, +and what a nice man he was, and what a fine thing it was to be of his +religion, especially if folks went over to him; and how it advanced them +in the world, and gave them consideration; and how his master, who had +been abroad and seen the Pope, and kissed his toe, was going over to the +Popish religion, and had persuaded him to consent to do so, and to +forsake his own, which I think the scoundrel called the 'Piscopal Church +of Scotland, and how many others of that church were going over, thinking +to better their condition in life by so doing, and to be more thought on; +and how many of the English Church were thinking of going over too--and +that he had no doubt that it would all end right and comfortably. Well, +as he was going on in this way, the old coachman began to spit, and +getting up, flung all the beer that was in his jug upon the ground, and +going away, ordered another jug of beer, and sat down at another table, +saying that he would not drink in such company; and I too got up, and +flung what beer remained in my jug, there wasn't more than a drop, in the +fellow's face, saying, I would scorn to drink any more in such company; +and then I went to my horses, put them to, paid my reckoning, and drove +home." + +The postillion having related his story, to which I listened with all due +attention, mused for a moment, and then said, "I dare say you remember +how, some time since, when old Bill had been telling us how the +Government a long time ago, had done away with robbing on the highway, by +putting down the public-houses and places which the highwaymen +frequented, and by sending a good mounted police to hunt them down, I +said that it was a shame that the present Government did not employ +somewhat the same means in order to stop the proceedings of Mumbo Jumbo +and his gang now-a-days in England. Howsomever, since I have driven a +fare to a Popish rendezvous, and seen something of what is going on +there, I should conceive that the Government are justified in allowing +the gang the free exercise of their calling. Anybody is welcome to stoop +and pick up nothing, or worse than nothing, and if Mumbo Jumbo's people, +after their expeditions, return to their haunts with no better plunder in +the shape of converts than what I saw going into yonder place of call, I +should say they are welcome to what they get; for if that's the kind of +rubbish they steal out of the Church of England, or any other church, who +in his senses but would say a good riddance, and many thanks for your +trouble: at any rate, that is my opinion of the matter." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + + +Deliberations with Self-Resolution--Invitation to Dinner--The Commercial +Traveller--The Landlord's Offer--The Comet Wine. + +It was now that I had frequent deliberations with myself. Should I +continue at the inn in my present position? I was not very much +captivated with it; there was little poetry in keeping an account of the +corn, hay, and straw which came in, and was given out, and I was fond of +poetry; moreover, there was no glory at all to be expected in doing so, +and I was fond of glory. Should I give up that situation, and remaining +at the inn, become ostler under old Bill? There was more poetry in +rubbing down horses than in keeping an account of straw, hay, and corn; +there was also some prospect of glory attached to the situation of +ostler, for the grooms and stable-boys occasionally talked of an ostler, +a great way down the road, who had been presented by some sporting +people, not with a silver vase, as our governor had been, but with a +silver currycomb, in testimony of their admiration for his skill; but I +confess that the poetry of rubbing down had become, as all other poetry +becomes, rather prosy by frequent repetition, and with respect to the +chance of deriving glory from the employment, I entertained, in the event +of my determining to stay, very slight hope of ever attaining skill in +the ostler art sufficient to induce sporting people to bestow upon me a +silver currycomb. I was not half so good an ostler as old Bill, who had +never been presented with a silver currycomb, and I never expected to +become so, therefore what chance had I? It was true, there was a +prospect of some pecuniary emolument to be derived by remaining in either +situation. It was very probable that, provided I continued to keep an +account of the hay and corn coming in and expended, the landlord would +consent to allow me a pound a week, which at the end of a dozen years, +provided I kept myself sober, would amount to a considerable sum. I +might, on the retirement of old Bill, by taking his place, save up a +decent sum of money, provided, unlike him, I kept myself sober, and laid +by all the shillings and sixpences I got; but the prospect of laying up a +decent sum of money was not of sufficient importance to induce me to +continue either at my wooden desk, or in the inn-yard. The reader will +remember what difficulty I had to make up my mind to become a merchant +under the Armenian's auspices, even with the prospect of making two or +three hundred thousand pounds by following the Armenian way of doing +business, so it was not probable that I should feel disposed to be a book- +keeper or ostler all my life with no other prospect than being able to +make a tidy sum of money. If indeed, besides the prospect of making a +tidy sum at the end of perhaps forty years' ostlering, I had been certain +of being presented with a silver currycomb with my name engraved upon it, +which I might have left to my descendants, or, in default thereof, to the +parish church destined to contain my bones, with directions that it might +be soldered into the wall above the arch leading from the body of the +church into the chancel--I will not say with such a certainty of +immortality, combined with such a prospect of moderate pecuniary +advantage,--I might not have thought it worth my while to stay, but I +entertained no such certainty, and, taking everything into consideration, +I determined to mount my horse and leave the inn. + +This horse had caused me for some time past no little perplexity; I had +frequently repented of having purchased him, more especially as the +purchase had been made with another person's money, and had more than +once shown him to people who, I imagined, were likely to purchase him; +but, though they were profuse in his praise, as people generally are in +the praise of what they don't intend to purchase, they never made me an +offer, and now that I had determined to mount on his back and ride away, +what was I to do with him in the sequel? I could not maintain him long. +Suddenly I bethought me of Horncastle, which Francis Ardry had mentioned +as a place where the horse was likely to find a purchaser, and not having +determined upon any particular place to which to repair, I thought that I +could do no better than betake myself to Horncastle in the first +instance, and there endeavour to dispose of my horse. + +On making inquiries with respect to the situation of Horncastle, and the +time when the fair would be held, I learned that the town was situated in +Lincolnshire, about a hundred and fifty miles from the inn at which I was +at present sojourning, and that the fair would be held nominally within +about a month, but that it was always requisite to be on the spot some +days before the nominal day of the fair, as all the best horses were +generally sold before that time, and the people who came to purchase gone +away with what they had bought. + +The people of the inn were very sorry on being informed of my +determination to depart. Old Bill told me that he had hoped as how I had +intended to settle down there, and to take his place as ostler when he +was fit for no more work, adding, that though I did not know much of the +business, yet he had no doubt but that I might improve. My friend the +postillion was particularly sorry, and taking me with him to the tap-room +called for two pints of beer, to one of which he treated me; and whilst +we were drinking told me how particularly sorry he was at the thought of +my going, but that he hoped I should think better of the matter. On my +telling him that I must go, he said that he trusted I should put off my +departure for three weeks, in order that I might be present at his +marriage, the banns of which were just about to be published. He said +that nothing would give him greater pleasure than to see me dance a +minuet with his wife after the marriage dinner; but I told him it was +impossible that I should stay, my affairs imperatively calling me +elsewhere; and that with respect to my dancing a minuet, such a thing was +out of the question, as I had never learned to dance. At which he said +that he was exceedingly sorry, and finding me determined to go, wished me +success in all my undertakings. + +The master of the house, to whom, as in duty bound, I communicated my +intention before I spoke of it to the servants, was, I make no doubt, +very sorry, though he did not exactly tell me so. What he said was, that +he had never expected that I should remain long there, as such a +situation never appeared to him quite suitable to me, though I had been +very diligent, and had given him perfect satisfaction. On his inquiring +when I intended to depart, I informed him next day, whereupon he begged +that I would defer my departure till the next day but one, and do him the +favour of dining with him on the morrow. I informed him that I should be +only too happy. + +On the following day at four o'clock I dined with the landlord, in +company with a commercial traveller. The dinner was good, though plain, +consisting of boiled mackerel--rather a rarity in those parts at that +time--with fennel sauce, a prime baron of roast beef after the mackerel, +then a tart and noble Cheshire cheese; we had prime sherry at dinner, and +whilst eating the cheese prime porter, that of Barclay, the only good +porter in the world. After the cloth was removed we had a bottle of very +good port; and whilst partaking of the port I had an argument with the +commercial traveller on the subject of the corn-laws. + +The commercial traveller, having worsted me in the argument on the +subject of the corn-laws, got up in great glee, saying that he must order +his gig, as business must be attended to. Before leaving the room, +however, he shook me patronizingly by the hand, and said something to the +master of the house, but in so low a tone that it escaped my ear. + +No sooner had he departed than the master of the house told me that his +friend the traveller had just said that I was a confounded sensible young +fellow, and not at all opinionated, a sentiment in which he himself +perfectly agreed--then hemming once or twice, he said that as I was going +on a journey he hoped I was tolerably well provided with money, adding +that travelling was rather expensive, especially on horseback, the manner +in which he supposed, as I had a horse in the stable, I intended to +travel. I told him that though I was not particularly well supplied with +money, I had sufficient for the expenses of my journey, at the end of +which I hoped to procure more. He then hemmed again, and said that since +I had been at the inn I had rendered him a great deal of service in more +ways than one, and that he should not think of permitting me to depart +without making me some remuneration; then putting his hand into his +waistcoat pocket, he handed me a cheque for ten pounds, which he had +prepared beforehand, the value of which he said I could receive at the +next town, or that, if I wished it, any waiter in the house would cash it +for me. I thanked him for his generosity in the best terms I could +select, but, handing him back the cheque, I told him that I could not +accept it, saying, that, so far from his being my debtor, I believed +myself to be indebted to him, as not only myself but my horse had been +living at his house for several weeks. He replied, that as for my board +at a house like his it amounted to nothing, and as for the little corn +and hay which the horse had consumed it was of no consequence, and that +he must insist upon my taking the cheque. But I again declined, telling +him that doing so would be a violation of a rule which I had determined +to follow, and which nothing but the greatest necessity would ever compel +me to break through--never to incur obligations. "But," said he, +"receiving this money will not be incurring an obligation, it is your +due." "I do not think so," said I; "I did not engage to serve you for +money, nor will I take any from you." "Perhaps you will take it as a +loan?" said he. "No," I replied, "I never borrow." "Well," said the +landlord, smiling, "you are different from all others that I am +acquainted with. I never yet knew any one else who scrupled to borrow +and receive obligations; why, there are two baronets in the neighbourhood +who have borrowed money of me, ay, and who have never repaid what they +borrowed; and there are a dozen squires who are under considerable +obligations to me, who I dare say will never return them. Come, you need +not be more scrupulous than your superiors--I mean in station." "Every +vessel must stand on its own bottom," said I; "they take pleasure in +receiving obligations, I take pleasure in being independent. Perhaps +they are wise, and I am a fool, I know not, but one thing I am certain +of, which is, that were I not independent I should be very unhappy: I +should have no visions then." "Have you any relations?" said the +landlord, looking at me compassionately; "excuse me, but I don't think +you are exactly fit to take care of yourself." "There you are mistaken," +said I, "I can take precious good care of myself; ay, and can drive a +precious hard bargain when I have occasion, but driving bargains is a +widely different thing from receiving gifts. I am going to take my horse +to Horncastle, and when there I shall endeavour to obtain his full +value--ay to the last penny." + +"Horncastle!" said the landlord, "I have heard of that place; you mustn't +be dreaming visions when you get there, or they'll steal the horse from +under you. Well," said he, rising, "I shall not press you further on the +subject of the cheque. I intend, however, to put you under an obligation +to me." He then rang the bell, and having ordered two fresh glasses to +be brought, he went out and presently returned with a small pint bottle, +which he uncorked with his own hand; then sitting down, he said, "The +wine that I bring here, is port of eighteen hundred and eleven, the year +of the comet, the best vintage on record; the wine which we have been +drinking," he added, "is good, but not to be compared with this, which I +never sell, and which I am chary of. When you have drunk some of it, I +think you will own that I have conferred an obligation upon you;" he then +filled the glasses, the wine which he poured out diffusing an aroma +through the room; then motioning me to drink, he raised his own glass to +his lips, saying, "Come, friend, I drink to your success at Horncastle." + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + + +Triumphal Departure--No Season like Youth--Extreme Old Age--Beautiful +England--The Ratcatcher--A Misadventure. + +I departed from the inn much in the same fashion as I had come to it, +mounted on a splendid horse indifferently well caparisoned, with the +small valise attached to my crupper, in which, besides the few things I +had brought with me, was a small book of roads with a map which had been +presented to me by the landlord. I must not forget to state that I did +not ride out of the yard, but that my horse was brought to me at the +front door by old Bill, who insisted upon doing so, and who refused a +five-shilling piece which I offered him; and it will be as well to let +the reader know that the landlord shook me by the hand as I mounted, and +that the people attached to the inn, male and female--my friend the +postillion at the head--assembled before the house to see me off, and +gave me three cheers as I rode away. Perhaps no person ever departed +from an inn with more eclat or better wishes; nobody looked at me +askance, except two stage-coachmen who were loitering about, one of whom +said to his companion, "I say, Jim! twig his portmanteau! a regular +Newmarket turn-out, by--!" + +It was in the cool of the evening of a bright day--all the days of that +summer were bright--that I departed. I felt at first rather melancholy +at finding myself again launched into the wide world, and leaving the +friends whom I had lately made behind me; but by occasionally trotting +the horse, and occasionally singing a song of Romanvile, I had dispelled +the feeling of melancholy by the time I had proceeded three miles down +the main road. It was at the end of these three miles, just opposite a +milestone, that I struck into a cross road. After riding about seven +miles, threading what are called, in postillion parlance, cross-country +roads, I reached another high road, tending to the east, along which I +proceeded for a mile or two, when coming to a small inn, about nine +o'clock, I halted and put up for the night. + +Early on the following morning I proceeded on my journey, but fearing to +gall the horse, I no longer rode him, but led him by the bridle, until I +came to a town at the distance of about ten miles from the place where I +had passed the night. Here I stayed during the heat of the day, more on +the horse's account than my own, and towards evening resumed my journey, +leading the animal by the bridle as before; and in this manner I +proceeded for several days, travelling on an average from twenty to +twenty-five miles a day, always leading the animal, except perhaps now +and then of an evening, when, if I saw a good piece of road before me, I +would mount and put the horse into a trot, which the creature seemed to +enjoy as much as myself, showing his satisfaction by snorting and +neighing, whilst I gave utterance to my own exhilaration by shouts, or by +"the chi she is kaulo she soves pre lakie dumo," or by something else of +the same kind in Romanvile. + +On the whole, I journeyed along very pleasantly, certainly quite as +pleasantly as I do at present, now that I am become a gentleman and weigh +sixteen stone, though some people would say that my present manner of +travelling is much the most preferable, riding as I now do, instead of +leading my horse; receiving the homage of ostlers instead of their +familiar nods; sitting down to dinner in the parlour of the best inn I +can find, instead of passing the brightest part of the day in the kitchen +of a village alehouse; carrying on my argument after dinner on the +subject of the corn-laws, with the best commercial gentlemen on the road, +instead of being glad, whilst sipping a pint of beer, to get into +conversation with blind trampers, or maimed Abraham sailors, regaling +themselves on half-pints at the said village hostelries. Many people +will doubtless say that things have altered wonderfully with me for the +better, and they would say right, provided I possessed now what I then +carried about with me in my journeys--the spirit of youth. Youth is the +only season for enjoyment, and the first twenty-five years of one's life +are worth all the rest of the longest life of man, even though those five- +and-twenty be spent in penury and contempt, and the rest in the +possession of wealth, honours, respectability, ay, and many of them in +strength and health, such as will enable one to ride forty miles before +dinner, and over one's pint of port--for the best gentleman in the land +should not drink a bottle--carry on one's argument, with gravity and +decorum, with any commercial gentleman who, responsive to one's +challenge, takes the part of humanity and common sense against +"protection" and the lord of the land. + +Ah! there is nothing like youth--not that after-life is valueless. Even +in extreme old age one may get on very well, provided we will but accept +of the bounties of God. I met the other day an old man, who asked me to +drink. "I am not thirsty," said I, "and will not drink with you." "Yes, +you will," said the old man, "for I am this day one hundred years old; +and you will never again have an opportunity of drinking the health of a +man on his hundredth birthday." So I broke my word, and drank. "Yours +is a wonderful age," said I. "It is a long time to look back to the +beginning of it," said the old man; "yet, upon the whole, I am not sorry +to have lived it all." "How have you passed your time?" said I. "As +well as I could," said the old man; "always enjoying a good thing when it +came honestly within my reach; not forgetting to praise God for putting +it there." "I suppose you were fond of a glass of good ale when you were +young?" "Yes," said the old man, "I was; and so, thank God, I am still." +And he drank off a glass of ale. + +On I went in my journey, traversing England from west to east--ascending +and descending hills--crossing rivers by bridge and ferry--and passing +over extensive plains. What a beautiful country is England! People run +abroad to see beautiful countries, and leave their own behind unknown, +unnoticed--their own the most beautiful! And then, again, what a country +for adventures! especially to those who travel on foot, or on horseback. +People run abroad in quest of adventures, and traverse Spain or Portugal +on mule or on horseback; whereas there are ten times more adventures to +be met with in England than in Spain, Portugal, or stupid Germany to +boot. Witness the number of adventures narrated in the present book--a +book entirely devoted to England. Why, there is not a chapter in the +present book which is not full of adventures, with the exception of the +present one, and this is not yet terminated. + +After traversing two or three counties, I reached the confines of +Lincolnshire. During one particularly hot day I put up at a +public-house, to which, in the evening, came a party of harvesters to +make merry, who, finding me wandering about the house a stranger, invited +me to partake of their ale; so I drank with the harvesters, who sang me +songs about rural life, such as-- + + "Sitting in the swale; and listening to the swindle of the flail, as + it sounds dub-a-dub on the corn, from the neighbouring barn." + +In requital for which I treated them with a song, not of Romanvile, but +the song of "Sivory and the horse Grayman." I remained with them till it +was dark, having, after sunset, entered into deep discourse with a +celebrated ratcatcher, who communicated to me the secrets of his trade, +saying, amongst other things, "When you see the rats pouring out of their +holes, and running up my hands and arms, it's not after me they comes, +but after the oils I carries about me they comes;" and who subsequently +spoke in the most enthusiastic manner of his trade, saying that it was +the best trade in the world, and most diverting, and that it was likely +to last for ever; for whereas all other kinds of vermin were fast +disappearing from England, rats were every day becoming more abundant. I +had quitted this good company, and having mounted my horse, was making my +way towards a town at about six miles' distance, at a swinging trot, my +thoughts deeply engaged on what I had gathered from the ratcatcher, when +all on a sudden a light glared upon the horse's face, who purled round in +great terror, and flung me out of the saddle, as from a sling, or with as +much violence as the horse Grayman, in the ballad, flings Sivord the +Snareswayne. I fell upon the ground--felt a kind of crashing about my +neck--and forthwith became senseless. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + + +A Novel Situation--The Elderly Individual--The Surgeon--A Kind +Offer--Chimerical Ideas--Strange Dream. + +How long I remained senseless I cannot say, for a considerable time, I +believe; at length, opening my eyes, I found myself lying on a bed in a +middle-sized chamber, lighted by a candle, which stood on a table--an +elderly man stood near me, and a yet more elderly female was holding a +phial of very pungent salts to my olfactory organ. I attempted to move, +but felt very stiff--my right arm appeared nearly paralysed, and there +was a strange dull sensation in my head. "You had better remain still, +young man," said the elderly individual, "the surgeon will be here +presently; I have sent a message for him to the neighbouring village." +"Where am I?" said I, "and what has happened?" "You are in my house," +said the old man, "and you have been flung from a horse. I am sorry to +say that I was the cause. As I was driving home, the lights in my gig +frightened the animal." "Where is the horse?" said I. "Below, in my +stable," said the elderly individual. "I saw you fall, but knowing that +on account of my age I could be of little use to you, I instantly hurried +home, the accident did not occur more than a furlong off, and procuring +the assistance of my lad, and two or three neighbouring cottagers, I +returned to the spot where you were lying senseless. We raised you up, +and brought you here. My lad then went in quest of the horse, who had +run away as we drew nigh. When we saw him first he was standing near +you; he caught him with some difficulty, and brought him home. What are +you about?" said the old man, as I strove to get off the bed. "I want to +see the horse," said I. "I entreat you to be still," said the old man; +"the horse is safe, I assure you." "I am thinking about his knees," said +I. "Instead of thinking about your horse's knees," said the old man, "be +thankful that you have not broke your own neck." "You do not talk +wisely," said I; "when a man's neck is broke, he is provided for; but +when his horse's knees are broke, he is a lost jockey, that is, if he has +nothing but his horse to depend upon. A pretty figure I should cut at +Horncastle, mounted on a horse blood-raw at the knees." "Oh, you are +going to Horncastle," said the old man, seriously, "then I can sympathize +with you in your anxiety about your horse, being a Lincolnshire man, and +the son of one who bred horses. I will myself go down into the stable, +and examine into the condition of your horse, so pray remain quiet till I +return; it would certainly be a terrible thing to appear at Horncastle on +a broken-kneed horse." + +He left the room and returned in about ten minutes, followed by another +person. "Your horse is safe," said he, "and his knees are unblemished; +not a hair ruffled. He is a fine animal, and will do credit to +Horncastle; but here is the surgeon come to examine into your own +condition." The surgeon was a man about thirty-five, thin, and rather +tall; his face was long and pale, and his hair, which was light, was +carefully combed back as much as possible from his forehead. He was +dressed very neatly, and spoke in a very precise tone. "Allow me to feel +your pulse, friend?" said he, taking me by the right wrist. I uttered a +cry, for at the motion which he caused a thrill of agony darted through +my arm. "I hope your arm is not broke, my friend," said the surgeon, +"allow me to see; first of all, we must divest you of this cumbrous +frock." + +The frock was removed with some difficulty, and then the upper vestments +of my frame, with more difficulty still. The surgeon felt my arm, moving +it up and down, causing me unspeakable pain. "There is no fracture," +said he, at last, "but a contusion--a violent contusion. I am told you +were going to Horncastle; I am afraid you will be hardly able to ride +your horse thither in time to dispose of him; however, we shall see--your +arm must be bandaged, friend; after which I shall bleed you, and +administer a composing draught." + +To be short, the surgeon did as he proposed, and when he had administered +the composing draught, he said, "Be of good cheer; I should not be +surprised if you are yet in time for Horncastle." He then departed with +the master of the house, and the woman, leaving me to my repose. I soon +began to feel drowsy, and was just composing myself to slumber, lying on +my back, as the surgeon had advised me, when I heard steps ascending the +stairs, and in a moment more the surgeon entered again, followed by the +master of the house. "I hope I don't disturb you," said the former; "my +reason for returning is to relieve your mind from any anxiety with +respect to your horse. I am by no means sure that you will be able, +owing to your accident, to reach Horncastle in time: to quiet you, +however, I will buy your horse for any reasonable sum. I have been down +to the stable, and approve of his figure. What do you ask for him?" +"This is a strange time of night," said I, "to come to me about +purchasing my horse, and I am hardly in a fitting situation to be applied +to about such a matter. What do you want him for?" "For my own use," +said the surgeon; "I am a professional man, and am obliged to be +continually driving about; I cover at least one hundred and fifty miles +every week." "He will never answer your purpose," said I, "he is not a +driving horse, and was never between shafts in his life; he is for +riding, more especially for trotting, at which he has few equals." "It +matters not to me whether he is for riding or driving," said the surgeon, +"sometimes I ride, sometimes drive; so, if we can come to terms, I will +buy him, though remember it is chiefly to remove any anxiety from your +mind about him." "This is no time for bargaining," said I, "if you wish +to have the horse for a hundred guineas, you may; if not--" "A hundred +guineas!" said the surgeon, "my good friend, you must surely be light- +headed; allow me to feel your pulse," and he attempted to feel my left +wrist. "I am not light-headed," said I, "and I require no one to feel my +pulse; but I should be light-headed if I were to sell my horse for less +than I have demanded; but I have a curiosity to know what you would be +willing to offer." "Thirty pounds," said the surgeon, "is all I can +afford to give; and that is a great deal for a country surgeon to offer +for a horse." "Thirty pounds!" said I, "why, he cost me nearly double +that sum. To tell you the truth, I am afraid that you want to take +advantage of my situation." "Not in the least, friend," said the +surgeon, "not in the least; I only wished to set your mind at rest about +your horse; but as you think he is worth more than I can afford to offer, +take him to Horncastle by all means; I will do my best to cure you in +time. Good night, I will see you again on the morrow." Thereupon he +once more departed with the master of the house. "A sharp one," I heard +him say, with a laugh, as the door closed upon him. + +Left to myself, I again essayed to compose myself to rest, but for some +time in vain. I had been terribly shaken by my fall, and had +subsequently, owing to the incision of the surgeon's lancet, been +deprived of much of the vital fluid; it is when the body is in such a +state that the merest trifles affect and agitate the mind; no wonder, +then, that the return of the surgeon and the master of the house for the +purpose of inquiring whether I would sell my horse, struck me as being +highly extraordinary, considering the hour of the night, and the +situation in which they knew me to be. What could they mean by such +conduct--did they wish to cheat me of the animal? "Well, well," said I, +"if they did, what matters, they found their match; yes, yes," said I, +"but I am in their power, perhaps"--but I instantly dismissed the +apprehension which came into my mind, with a pooh, nonsense! In a little +time, however, a far more foolish and chimerical idea began to disturb +me--the idea of being flung from my horse; was I not disgraced for ever +as a horseman by being flung from my horse? Assuredly, I thought; and +the idea of being disgraced as a horseman, operating on my nervous +system, caused me very acute misery. "After all," said I to myself, "it +was perhaps the contemptible opinion which the surgeon must have formed +of my equestrian powers, which induced him to offer to take my horse off +my hands; he perhaps thought I was unable to manage a horse, and +therefore in pity returned in the dead of night to offer to purchase the +animal which had flung me;" and then the thought that the surgeon had +conceived a contemptible opinion of my equestrian powers, caused me the +acutest misery, and continued tormenting me until some other idea (I have +forgot what it was, but doubtless equally foolish) took possession of my +mind. At length, brought on by the agitation of my spirits, there came +over me the same feeling of horror that I had experienced of old when I +was a boy, and likewise of late within the dingle; it was, however, not +so violent as it had been on those occasions, and I struggled manfully +against it, until by degrees it passed away, and then I fell asleep; and +in my sleep I had an ugly dream. I dreamt that I had died of the +injuries I had received from my fall, and that no sooner had my soul +departed from my body than it entered that of a quadruped, even my own +horse in the stable--in a word, I was, to all intents and purposes, my +own steed; and as I stood in the stable chewing hay (and I remember that +the hay was exceedingly tough), the door opened, and the surgeon who had +attended me came in. "My good animal," said he, "as your late master has +scarcely left enough to pay for the expenses of his funeral, and nothing +to remunerate me for my trouble, I shall make bold to take possession of +you. If your paces are good, I shall keep you for my own riding; if not, +I shall take you to Horncastle, your original destination." He then +bridled and saddled me, and, leading me out, mounted, and then trotted me +up and down before the house, at the door of which the old man, who now +appeared to be dressed in regular jockey fashion, was standing. "I like +his paces well," said the surgeon; "I think I shall take him for my own +use." "And what am I to have for all the trouble his master caused me?" +said my late entertainer, on whose countenance I now observed, for the +first time, a diabolical squint. "The consciousness of having done your +duty to a fellow-creature in succouring him in a time of distress, must +be your reward," said the surgeon. "Pretty gammon, truly," said my late +entertainer; "what would you say if I were to talk in that way to you? +Come, unless you choose to behave jonnock, I shall take the bridle and +lead the horse back into the stable." "Well," said the surgeon, "we are +old friends, and I don't wish to dispute with you, so I'll tell you what +I will do; I will ride the animal to Horncastle, and we will share what +he fetches like brothers." "Good," said the old man, "but if you say +that you have sold him for less than a hundred, I shan't consider you +jonnock; remember what the young fellow said--that young fellow--" I +heard no more, for the next moment I found myself on a broad road +leading, as I supposed, in the direction of Horncastle, the surgeon still +in the saddle, and my legs moving at a rapid trot. "Get on," said the +surgeon, jerking my mouth with the bit; whereupon, full of rage, I +instantly set off at a full gallop, determined, if possible, to dash my +rider to the earth. The surgeon, however, kept his seat, and, so far +from attempting to abate my speed, urged me on to greater efforts with a +stout stick, which methought he held in his hand. In vain did I rear and +kick, attempting to get rid of my foe; but the surgeon remained as saddle- +fast as ever the Maugrabin sorcerer in the Arabian tale what time he rode +the young prince transformed into a steed to his enchanted palace in the +wilderness. At last, as I was still madly dashing on, panting and +blowing, and had almost given up all hope, I saw at a distance before me +a heap of stones by the side of the road, probably placed there for the +purpose of repairing it; a thought appeared to strike me--I will shy at +those stones, and, if I can't get rid of him so, resign myself to my +fate. So I increased my speed, till arriving within about ten yards of +the heap, I made a desperate start, turning half round with nearly the +velocity of a mill-stone. Oh, the joy I experienced when I felt my enemy +canted over my neck, and saw him lying senseless in the road. "I have +you now in my power," I said, or rather neighed, as, going up to my +prostrate foe, I stood over him. "Suppose I were to rear now, and let my +fore feet fall upon you, what would your life be worth? that is, +supposing you are not killed already; but lie there, I will do you no +further harm, but trot to Horncastle without a rider, and when there--" +and without further reflection off I trotted in the direction of +Horncastle, but had not gone far before my bridle, falling from my neck, +got entangled with my off fore foot. I felt myself falling, a thrill of +agony shot through me--my knees would be broken, and what should I do at +Horncastle with a pair of broken knees? I struggled, but I could not +disengage my off fore foot, and downward I fell, but before I had reached +the ground I awoke, and found myself half out of bed, my bandaged arm in +considerable pain, and my left hand just touching the floor. + +With some difficulty I readjusted myself in bed. It was now early +morning, and the first rays of the sun were beginning to penetrate the +white curtains of a window on my left, which probably looked into the +garden, as I caught a glimpse or two of the leaves of trees through a +small uncovered part at the side. For some time I felt uneasy and +anxious, my spirits being in a strange fluttering state. At last my eyes +fell upon a small row of tea-cups seemingly of china, which stood on a +mantelpiece exactly fronting the bottom of the bed. The sight of these +objects, I know not why, soothed and pacified me; I kept my eyes fixed +upon them, as I lay on my back on the bed, with my head upon the pillow, +till at last I fell into a calm and refreshing sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + + +The Morning after a Fall--The Teapot--Unpretending Hospitality--The +Chinese Student. + +It might be about eight o'clock in the morning when I was awakened by the +entrance of the old man. "How have you rested?" said he, coming up to +the bedside, and looking me in the face. "Well," said I, "and I feel +much better, but I am still very sore." I surveyed him now for the first +time with attention. He was dressed in a sober-coloured suit, and was +apparently between sixty and seventy. In stature he was rather above the +middle height, but with a slight stoop; his features were placid, and +expressive of much benevolence, but, as it appeared to me, with rather a +melancholy cast--as I gazed upon them, I felt ashamed that I should ever +have conceived in my brain a vision like that of the preceding night, in +which he appeared in so disadvantageous a light. At length he said, "It +is now time for you to take some refreshment. I hear my old servant +coming up with your breakfast." In a moment the elderly female entered +with a tray, on which was some bread and butter, a teapot and cup. The +cup was of common blue earthenware, but the pot was of china, curiously +fashioned, and seemingly of great antiquity. The old man poured me out a +cupful of tea, and then, with the assistance of the woman, raised me +higher, and propped me up with the pillows. I ate and drank; when the +pot was emptied of its liquid (it did not contain much), I raised it up +with my left hand to inspect it. The sides were covered with curious +characters, seemingly hieroglyphics. After surveying them for some time, +I replaced it upon the tray. "You seem fond of china," said I, to the +old man, after the servant had retired with the breakfast things, and I +had returned to my former posture; "you have china on the mantelpiece, +and that was a remarkable teapot out of which I have just been drinking." + +The old man fixed his eyes intently on me, and methought the expression +of his countenance became yet more melancholy. "Yes," said he, at last, +"I am fond of china--I have reason to be fond of china--but for china I +should--" and here he sighed again. + +"You value it for the quaintness and singularity of its form," said I; +"it appears to be less adapted for real use than our own pottery." + +"I care little about its form," said the old man; "I care for it simply +on account of--however, why talk to you on the subject which can have no +possible interest to you? I expect the surgeon here presently." + +"I do not like that surgeon at all," said I; "how strangely he behaved +last night, coming back, when I was just falling asleep, to ask me if I +would sell my horse." + +The old man smiled. "He has but one failing," said he, "an itch for +horse-dealing; but for that he might be a much richer man than he is; he +is continually buying and exchanging horses, and generally finds himself +a loser by his bargains: but he is a worthy creature, and skilful in his +profession--it is well for you that you are under his care." + +The old man then left me, and in about an hour returned with the surgeon, +who examined me and reported favourably as to my case. He spoke to me +with kindness and feeling, and did not introduce the subject of the +horse. I asked him whether he thought I should be in time for the fair. +"I saw some people making their way thither to-day," said he; "the fair +lasts three weeks, and it has just commenced. Yes, I think I may promise +you that you will be in time for the very heat of it. In a few days you +will be able to mount your saddle with your arm in a sling, but you must +by no means appear with your arm in a sling at Horncastle, as people +would think that your horse had flung you, and that you wanted to dispose +of him because he was a vicious brute. You must, by all means, drop the +sling before you get to Horncastle." + +For three days I kept my apartment by the advice of the surgeon. I +passed my time as I best could. Stretched on my bed, I either abandoned +myself to reflection, or listened to the voices of the birds in the +neighbouring garden. Sometimes, as I lay awake at night, I would +endeavour to catch the tick of a clock, which methought sounded from some +distant part of the house. + +The old man visited me twice or thrice every day to inquire into my +state. His words were few on these occasions, and he did not stay long. +Yet his voice and his words were kind. What surprised me most in +connection with this individual was, the delicacy of conduct which he +exhibited in not letting a word proceed from his lips which could testify +curiosity respecting who I was, or whence I came. All he knew of me was, +that I had been flung from my horse on my way to a fair for the purpose +of disposing of the animal; and that I was now his guest. I might be a +common horse-dealer for what he knew, yet I was treated by him with all +the attention which I could have expected, had I been an alderman of +Boston's heir, and known to him as such. The county in which I am now, +thought I at last, must be either extraordinarily devoted to hospitality, +or this old host of mine must be an extraordinary individual. On the +evening of the fourth day, feeling tired of my confinement, I put my +clothes on in the best manner I could, and left the chamber. Descending +a flight of stairs, I reached a kind of quadrangle, from which branched +two or three passages; one of these I entered, which had a door at the +farther end, and one on each side; the one to the left standing partly +open, I entered it, and found myself in a middle-sized room with a large +window, or rather glass-door, which looked into a garden, and which stood +open. There was nothing remarkable in this room, except a large quantity +of china. There was china on the mantelpiece--china on two tables, and a +small beaufet, which stood opposite the glass-door, was covered with +china--there were cups, teapots, and vases of various forms, and on all +of them I observed characters--not a teapot, not a tea-cup, not a vase of +whatever form or size, but appeared to possess hieroglyphics on some part +or other. After surveying these articles for some time with no little +interest, I passed into the garden, in which there were small parterres +of flowers, and two or three trees, and which, where the house did not +abut, was bounded by a wall; turning to the right by a walk by the side +of a house, I passed by a door--probably the one I had seen at the end of +the passage--and arrived at another window similar to that through which +I had come, and which also stood open; I was about to pass through it, +when I heard the voice of my entertainer exclaiming, "Is that you? pray +come in." + +I entered the room, which seemed to be a counterpart of the one which I +had just left. It was of the same size, had the same kind of furniture, +and appeared to be equally well stocked with china; one prominent article +it possessed, however, which the other room did not exhibit--namely, a +clock, which, with its pendulum moving tick-a-tick, hung against the wall +opposite to the door, the sight of which made me conclude that the sound +which methought I had heard in the stillness of the night was not an +imaginary one. There it hung on the wall, with its pendulum moving tick- +a-tick. The old gentleman was seated in an easy chair a little way into +the room, having the glass-door on his right hand. On a table before him +lay a large open volume, in which I observed Roman letters as well as +characters. A few inches beyond the book on the table, covered all over +with hieroglyphics, stood a china vase. The eyes of the old man were +fixed upon it. + +"Sit down," said he, motioning me with his hand to a stool close by, but +without taking his eyes from the vase. + +"I can't make it out," said he, at last, removing his eyes from the vase, +and leaning back on the chair, "I can't make it out." + +"I wish I could assist you," said I. + +"Assist me," said the old man, looking at me with a half smile. + +"Yes," said I, "but I don't understand Chinese." + +"I suppose not," said the old man, with another slight smile; "but--but--" + +"Pray proceed," said I. + +"I wished to ask you," said the old man, "how you knew that the +characters on yon piece of crockery were Chinese; or, indeed, that there +was such a language?" + +"I knew the crockery was china," said I, "and naturally enough supposed +what was written upon it to be Chinese; as for there being such a +language--the English have a language, the French have a language, and +why not the Chinese?" + +"May I ask you a question?" + +"As many as you like." + +"Do you know any language besides English?" + +"Yes," said I, "I know a little of two or three." + +"May I ask their names?" + +"Why not?" said I, "I know a little French." + +"Anything else?" + +"Yes, a little Welsh, and a little Haik." + +"What is Haik?" + +"Armenian." + +"I am glad to see you in my house," said the old man, shaking me by the +hand; "how singular that one coming as you did should know Armenian!" + +"Not more singular," said I, "than that one living in such a place as +this should know Chinese. How came you to acquire it?" + +The old man looked at me, and sighed. "I beg pardon," said I, "for +asking what is, perhaps, an impertinent question; I have not imitated +your own delicacy; you have never asked me a question without first +desiring permission, and here I have been days and nights in your house +an intruder on your hospitality, and you have never so much as asked me +who I am." + +"In forbearing to do that," said the old man, "I merely obeyed the +Chinese precept, 'Ask no questions of a guest;' it is written on both +sides of the teapot out of which you have had your tea." + +"I wish I knew Chinese," said I. "Is it a difficult language to +acquire?" + +"I have reason to think so," said the old man. "I have been occupied +upon it five-and-thirty years, and I am still very imperfectly acquainted +with it; at least, I frequently find upon my crockery sentences the +meaning of which to me is very dark, though it is true these sentences +are mostly verses, which are, of course, more difficult to understand +than mere prose." + +"Are your Chinese studies," said I, "confined to crockery literature?" + +"Entirely," said the old man; "I read nothing else." + +"I have heard," said I, "that the Chinese have no letters, but that for +every word they have a separate character--is it so?" + +"For every word they have a particular character," said the old man; +"though, to prevent confusion, they have arranged their words under two +hundred and fourteen what we should call radicals, but which they call +keys. As we arrange all our words in a dictionary under twenty-four +letters, so do they arrange all their words, or characters, under two +hundred and fourteen radical signs; the simplest radicals being the +first, and the more complex the last." + +"Does the Chinese resemble any of the European languages in words?" said +I. + +"I am scarcely competent to inform you," said the old man; "but I believe +not." + +"What does that character represent?" said I, pointing to one on the +vase. + +"A knife," said the old man, "that character is one of the simplest +radicals or keys." + +"And what is the sound of it?" said I. + +"Tau," said the old man. + +"Tau!" said I; "tau!" + +"A strange word for a knife is it not?" said the old man. + +"Tawse!" said I; "tawse!" + +"What is tawse?" said the old man. + +"You were never at school at Edinburgh, I suppose?" + +"Never," said the old man. + +"That accounts for your not knowing the meaning of tawse," said I; "had +you received the rudiments of a classical education at the High School, +you would have known the meaning of tawse full well. It is a leathern +thong, with which refractory urchins are recalled to a sense of their +duty by the dominie. Tau--tawse--how singular!" + +"I cannot see what the two words have in common, except a slight +agreement in sound." + +"You will see the connection," said I, "when I inform you that the thong, +from the middle to the bottom, is cut or slit into two or three parts, +from which slits or cuts, unless I am very much mistaken, it derives its +name--tawse, a thong with slits or cuts, used for chastising disorderly +urchins at the High School, from the French tailler, to cut; evidently +connected with the Chinese tau, a knife--how very extraordinary!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + + +Convalescence--The Surgeon's Bill--Letter of Recommendation--Commencement +of the Old Man's History. + +Two days--three days passed away--and I still remained at the house of my +hospitable entertainer; my bruised limb rapidly recovering the power of +performing its functions. I passed my time agreeably enough, sometimes +in my chamber, communing with my own thoughts; sometimes in the stable, +attending to, and not unfrequently conversing with, my horse; and at meal- +time--for I seldom saw him at any other--discoursing with the old +gentleman, sometimes on the Chinese vocabulary, sometimes on Chinese +syntax, and once or twice on English horseflesh; though on this latter +subject, notwithstanding his descent from a race of horse-traders, he did +not enter into with much alacrity. As a small requital for his kindness, +I gave him one day, after dinner, unasked, a brief account of my history +and pursuits. He listened with attention; and when it was concluded, +thanked me for the confidence which I had reposed in him. "Such +conduct," said he, "deserves a return. I will tell you my own history; +it is brief, but may perhaps not prove uninteresting to you--though the +relation of it will give me some pain." "Pray, then, do not recite it," +said I. "Yes," said the old man, "I will tell you, for I wish you to +know it." He was about to begin, when he was interrupted by the arrival +of the surgeon. The surgeon examined into the state of my bruised limb, +and told me, what indeed I already well knew, that it was rapidly +improving. "You will not even require a sling," said he, "to ride to +Horncastle. When do you propose going?" he demanded. "When do you think +I may venture?" I replied. "I think, if you are a tolerably good +horseman, you may mount the day after to-morrow," answered the medical +man. "By-the-bye, are you acquainted with anybody at Horncastle?" "With +no living soul," I answered. "Then you would scarcely find stable-room +for your horse. But I am happy to be able to assist you. I have a +friend there who keeps a small inn, and who, during the time of the fair, +keeps a stall vacant for any quadruped I may bring, until he knows +whether I am coming or not. I will give you a letter to him, and he will +see after the accommodation of your horse. To-morrow I will pay you a +farewell visit, and bring you the letter." "Thank you," said I; "and do +not forget to bring your bill." The surgeon looked at the old man, who +gave him a peculiar nod. "Oh!" said he, in reply to me, "for the little +service I have rendered you, I require no remuneration. You are in my +friend's house, and he and I understand each other." "I never receive +such favours," said I, "as you have rendered me, without remunerating +them; therefore I shall expect your bill." "Oh! just as you please," +said the surgeon; and shaking me by the hand more warmly than he had +hitherto done, he took his leave. + +On the evening of the next day, the last which I spent with my kind +entertainer, I sat at tea with him in a little summer-house in his +garden, partially shaded by the boughs of a large fig-tree. The surgeon +had shortly before paid me his farewell visit, and had brought me the +letter of introduction to his friend at Horncastle, and also his bill, +which I found anything but extravagant. After we had each respectively +drank the contents of two cups--and it may not be amiss here to inform +the reader that though I took cream with my tea, as I always do when I +can procure that addition, the old man, like most people bred up in the +country, drank his without it--he thus addressed me:--"I am, as I told +you on the night of your accident, the son of a breeder of horses, a +respectable and honest man. When I was about twenty he died, leaving me, +his only child, a comfortable property, consisting of about two hundred +acres of land and some fifteen hundred pounds in money. My mother had +died about three years previously. I felt the death of my mother keenly, +but that of my father less than was my duty; indeed, truth compels me to +acknowledge that I scarcely regretted his death. The cause of this want +of proper filial feeling was the opposition which I had experienced from +him in an affair which deeply concerned me. I had formed an attachment +for a young female in the neighbourhood, who, though poor, was of highly +respectable birth, her father having been a curate of the Established +Church. She was, at the time of which I am speaking, an orphan, having +lost both her parents, and supported herself by keeping a small school. +My attachment was returned, and we had pledged our vows, but my father, +who could not reconcile himself to her lack of fortune, forbade our +marriage in the most positive terms. He was wrong, for she was a fortune +in herself--amiable and accomplished. Oh! I cannot tell you all she +was--" and here the old man drew his hand across his eyes. "By the death +of my father, the only obstacle to our happiness appeared to be removed. +We agreed, therefore, that our marriage should take place within the +course of a year; and I forthwith commenced enlarging my house and +getting my affairs in order. Having been left in the easy circumstances +which I have described, I determined to follow no business, but to pass +my life in a strictly domestic manner, and to be very, very happy. +Amongst other property derived from my father were several horses, which +I disposed of in this neighbourhood, with the exception of two remarkably +fine ones, which I determined to take to the next fair at Horncastle, the +only place where I expected to be able to obtain what I considered to be +their full value. At length the time arrived for the commencement of the +fair, which was within three months of the period which my beloved and +myself had fixed upon for the celebration of our nuptials. To the fair I +went, a couple of trusty men following me with the horses. I soon found +a purchaser for the animals, a portly, plausible person, of about forty, +dressed in a blue riding coat, brown top boots, and leather breeches. +There was a strange-looking urchin with him, attired in nearly similar +fashion, with a beam in one of his eyes, who called him father. The man +paid me for the purchase in bank-notes--three fifty-pound notes for the +two horses. As we were about to take leave of each other, he suddenly +produced another fifty-pound note, inquiring whether I could change it, +complaining, at the same time, of the difficulty of procuring change in +the fair. As I happened to have plenty of small money in my possession, +and as I felt obliged to him for having purchased my horses at what I +considered to be a good price, I informed him that I should be very happy +to accommodate him; so I changed him the note, and he, having taken +possession of the horses, went his way, and I myself returned home. + +"A month passed; during this time I paid away two of the notes which I +had received at Horncastle from the dealer--one of them in my immediate +neighbourhood, and the other at a town about fifteen miles distant, to +which I had repaired for the purpose of purchasing some furniture. All +things seemed to be going on most prosperously, and I felt quite happy, +when one morning, as I was overlooking some workmen who were employed +about my house, I was accosted by a constable, who informed me that he +was sent to request my immediate appearance before a neighbouring bench +of magistrates. Concluding that I was merely summoned on some +unimportant business connected with the neighbourhood, I felt no +surprise, and forthwith departed in company with the officer. The +demeanour of the man upon the way struck me as somewhat singular. I had +frequently spoken to him before, and had always found him civil and +respectful, but he was now reserved and sullen, and replied to two or +three questions which I put to him in anything but a courteous manner. On +arriving at the place where the magistrates were sitting--an inn at a +small town about two miles distant--I found a more than usual number of +people assembled, who appeared to be conversing with considerable +eagerness. At sight of me they became silent, but crowded after me as I +followed the man into the magistrates' room. There I found the tradesman +to whom I had paid the note for the furniture at the town fifteen miles +off in attendance, accompanied by an agent of the Bank of England; the +former, it seems, had paid the note into a provincial bank, the +proprietors of which, discovering it to be a forgery, had forthwith +written up to the Bank of England, who had sent down their agent to +investigate the matter. A third individual stood beside them--the person +in my own immediate neighbourhood to whom I had paid the second note; +this, by some means or other, before the coming down of the agent, had +found its way to the same provincial bank, and also being pronounced a +forgery, it had speedily been traced to the person to whom I had paid it. +It was owing to the apparition of this second note that the agent had +determined, without further inquiry, to cause me to be summoned before +the rural tribunal. + +"In a few words the magistrates' clerk gave me to understand the state of +the case. I was filled with surprise and consternation. I knew myself +to be perfectly innocent of any fraudulent intention, but at the time of +which I am speaking it was a matter fraught with the greatest danger to +be mixed up, however innocently, with the passing of false money. The +law with respect to forgery was terribly severe, and the innocent as well +as the guilty occasionally suffered. Of this I was not altogether +ignorant; unfortunately, however, in my transactions with the stranger, +the idea of false notes being offered to me, and my being brought into +trouble by means of them, never entered my mind. Recovering myself a +little, I stated that the notes in question were two of three notes which +I had received at Horncastle, for a pair of horses, which it was well +known I had carried thither. + +"Thereupon, I produced from my pocket-book the third note, which was +forthwith pronounced a forgery. I had scarcely produced the third note, +when I remembered the one which I had changed for the Horncastle dealer, +and with the remembrance came the almost certain conviction that it was +also a forgery; I was tempted for a moment to produce it, and to explain +the circumstance--would to God I had done so!--but shame at the idea of +having been so wretchedly duped prevented me, and the opportunity was +lost. I must confess that the agent of the bank behaved, upon the whole, +in a very handsome manner; he said that as it was quite evident that I +had disposed of certain horses at the fair, it was very probable that I +might have received the notes in question in exchange for them, and that +he was willing, as he had received a very excellent account of my general +conduct, to press the matter no farther, that is, provided--" And here +he stopped. Thereupon, one of the three magistrates, who were present, +asked me whether I chanced to have any more of these spurious notes in my +possession. He certainly had a right to ask the question; but there was +something peculiar in his tone-insinuating suspicion. It is certainly +difficult to judge of the motives which rule a person's conduct, but I +cannot help imagining that he was somewhat influenced in his behaviour on +that occasion, which was anything but friendly, by my having refused to +sell him the horses at a price less than that which I expected to get at +the fair; be this as it may, the question filled me with embarrassment, +and I bitterly repented not having at first been more explicit. Thereupon +the magistrate in the same kind of tone, demanded to see my pocket-book. +I knew that to demur would be useless, and produced it, and therewith, +amongst two or three small country notes, appeared the fourth which I had +received from the Horncastle dealer. The agent took it up and examined +it with attention. 'Well, is it a genuine note?' asked the magistrate. +'I am sorry to say that it is not,' said the agent; 'it is a forgery, +like the other three.' The magistrate shrugged his shoulders, as indeed +did several people in the room. 'A regular dealer in forged notes,' said +a person close behind me; 'who would have thought it?' + +"Seeing matters begin to look so serious, I aroused myself, and +endeavoured to speak in my own behalf, giving a candid account of the +manner in which I became possessed of the notes; but my explanation did +not appear to meet much credit; the magistrate, to whom I have in +particular alluded, asked, why I had not at once stated the fact of my +having received a fourth note; and the agent, though in a very quiet +tone, observed that he could not help thinking it somewhat strange that I +should have changed a note of so much value for a perfect stranger, even +supposing that he had purchased my horses, and had paid me their value in +hard cash; and I noticed that he laid particular emphasis on the last +words. I might have observed that I was an inexperienced young man, who, +meaning no harm myself, suspected none in others, but I was confused, +stunned, and my tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of my mouth. The men +who had taken my horses to Horncastle, and for whom I had sent, as they +lived close at hand, now arrived, but the evidence which they could give +was anything but conclusive in my favour; they had seen me in company +with an individual at Horncastle, to whom, by my orders, they had +delivered certain horses, but they had seen no part of the money +transaction; the fellow, whether from design or not, having taken me +aside into a retired place, where he had paid me the three spurious +notes, and induced me to change the fourth, which throughout the affair +was what bore most materially against me. How matters might have +terminated I do not know, I might have gone to prison, and I might have +been--just then, when I most needed a friend, and least expected to find +one, for though amongst those present there were several who were my +neighbours, and who had professed friendship for me, none of them when +they saw that I needed support and encouragement, came forward to yield +me any, but, on the contrary, appeared by their looks to enjoy my terror +and confusion--just then a friend entered the room in the person of the +surgeon of the neighbourhood, the father of him who has attended you; he +was not on very intimate terms with me, but he had occasionally spoken to +me, and had attended my father in his dying illness, and chancing to hear +that I was in trouble, he now hastened to assist me. After a short +preamble, in which he apologized to the bench for interfering, he begged +to be informed of the state of the case, whereupon the matter was laid +before him in all its details. He was not slow in taking a fair view of +it, and spoke well and eloquently in my behalf--insisting on the +improbability that a person of my habits and position would be wilfully +mixed up with a transaction like that of which it appeared I was +suspected--adding, that as he was fully convinced of my innocence, he was +ready to enter into any surety with respect to my appearance at any time +to answer anything which might be laid to my charge. This last +observation had particular effect, and as he was a person universally +respected, both for his skill in his profession and his general +demeanour, people began to think that a person in whom he took an +interest could scarcely be concerned in anything criminal, and though my +friend the magistrate--I call him so ironically--made two or three +demurs, it was at last agreed between him and his brethren of the bench, +that, for the present, I should be merely called upon to enter into my +own recognizance for the sum of two hundred pounds, to appear whenever it +should be deemed requisite to enter into any further investigation of the +matter. + +"So I was permitted to depart from the tribunal of petty justice without +handcuffs, and uncollared by a constable; but people looked coldly and +suspiciously upon me. The first thing I did was to hasten to the house +of my beloved, in order to inform her of every circumstance attending the +transaction. I found her, but how? A malicious female individual had +hurried to her with a distorted tale, to the effect that I had been taken +up as an utterer of forged notes; that an immense number had been found +in my possession; that I was already committed, and that probably I +should be executed. My affianced one tenderly loved me, and her +constitution was delicate; fit succeeded fit; she broke a blood-vessel, +and I found her deluged in blood; the surgeon had been sent for; he came +and afforded her every possible relief. I was distracted; he bade me +have hope, but I observed he looked very grave. + +"By the skill of the surgeon, the poor girl was saved in the first +instance from the arms of death, and for a few weeks she appeared to be +rapidly recovering; by degrees, however, she became melancholy; a worm +preyed upon her spirit; a slow fever took possession of her frame. I +subsequently learned that the same malicious female who had first carried +to her an exaggerated account of the affair, and who was a distant +relative of her own, frequently visited her, and did all in her power to +excite her fears with respect to its eventual termination. Time passed +on in a very wretched manner. Our friend the surgeon showing to us both +every mark of kindness and attention. + +"It was owing to this excellent man that my innocence was eventually +established. Having been called to a town on the borders of Yorkshire to +a medical consultation, he chanced to be taking a glass of wine with the +landlord of the inn at which he stopped, when the waiter brought in a +note to be changed, saying 'That the Quaker gentleman, who had been for +some days in the house, and was about to depart, had sent it to be +changed, in order that he might pay his bill.' The landlord took the +note, and looked at it. 'A fifty-pound bill,' said he; 'I don't like +changing bills of that amount, lest they should prove bad ones; however, +as it comes from a Quaker gentleman, I suppose it is all right.' The +mention of a fifty-pound note aroused the attention of my friend, and he +requested to be permitted to look at it; he had scarcely seen it, when he +was convinced that it was one of the same description as those which had +brought me into trouble, as it corresponded with them in two particular +features, which the agent of the bank had pointed out to him and others +as evidence of their spuriousness. My friend, without a moment's +hesitation, informed the landlord that the note was a bad one, expressing +at the same time a great wish to see the Quaker gentleman who wanted to +have it changed. 'That you can easily do,' said the landlord, and +forthwith conducted him into the common room, where he saw a respectable- +looking man, dressed like a Quaker, and seemingly about sixty years of +age. + +"My friend, after a short apology, showed him the note which he held in +his hand, stating that he had no doubt it was a spurious one, and begged +to be informed where he had taken it, adding, that a particular friend of +his was at present in trouble, owing to his having taken similar notes +from a stranger at Horncastle; but that he hoped that he, the Quaker, +could give information, by means of which the guilty party, or parties, +could be arrested. At the mention of Horncastle, it appeared to my +friend that the Quaker gave a slight start. At the conclusion of this +speech, however, he answered, with great tranquillity, that he had +received it in the way of business at ---, naming one of the principal +towns in Yorkshire, from a very respectable person, whose name he was +perfectly willing to communicate, and likewise his own, which he said was +James, and that he was a merchant residing at Liverpool; that he would +write to his friend at ---, requesting him to make inquiries on the +subject; that just at that moment he was in a hurry to depart, having +some particular business at a town about ten miles off, to go to which he +had bespoken a post-chaise of the landlord; that with respect to the +note, it was doubtless a very disagreeable thing to have a suspicious one +in his possession, but that it would make little difference to him, as he +had plenty of other money, and thereupon he pulled out a purse, +containing various other notes, and some gold, observing, 'that his only +motive for wishing to change the other note was a desire to be well +provided with change;' and finally, that if they had any suspicion with +respect to him, he was perfectly willing to leave the note in their +possession till he should return, which he intended to do in about a +fortnight. There was so much plausibility in the speech of the Quaker, +and his appearance and behaviour were so perfectly respectable, that my +friend felt almost ashamed of the suspicion which at first he had +entertained of him, though, at the same time, he felt an unaccountable +unwillingness to let the man depart without some further interrogation. +The landlord, however, who did not wish to disoblige one who had been, +and might probably be again, a profitable customer, declared that he was +perfectly satisfied; and that he had no wish to detain the note, which he +made no doubt the gentleman had received in the way of business, and that +as the matter concerned him alone, he would leave it to him to make the +necessary inquiries. 'Just as you please, friend,' said the Quaker, +pocketing the suspicious note, 'I will now pay my bill.' Thereupon he +discharged the bill with a five-pound note, which he begged the landlord +to inspect carefully, and with two pieces of gold. + +"The landlord had just taken the money, receipted the bill, and was +bowing to his customer, when the door opened, and a lad, dressed in a +kind of grey livery, appeared, and informed the Quaker that the chaise +was ready. 'Is that boy your servant?' said the surgeon. 'He is, +friend,' said the Quaker. 'Hast thou any reason for asking me that +question?' 'And has he been long in your service?' 'Several years,' +replied the Quaker, 'I took him into my house out of compassion, he being +an orphan, but as the chaise is waiting, I will bid thee farewell.' 'I +am afraid I must stop your journey for the present,' said the surgeon; +'that boy has exactly the same blemish in the eye which a boy had who was +in company with the man at Horncastle, from whom my friend received the +forged notes, and who there passed for his son.' 'I know nothing about +that,' said the Quaker, 'but I am determined to be detained here no +longer, after the satisfactory account which I have given as to the +note's coming into my possession.' He then attempted to leave the room, +but my friend detained him, a struggle ensued, during which a wig which +the Quaker wore fell off, whereupon he instantly appeared to lose some +twenty years of his age. 'Knock the fellow down, father,' said the boy, +'I'll help you.' + +"And, forsooth, the pretended Quaker took the boy's advice, and knocked +my friend down in a twinkling. The landlord, however, and waiter, seeing +how matters stood, instantly laid hold of him; but there can be no doubt +that he would have escaped from the whole three, had not certain guests +who were in the house, hearing the noise, rushed in, and helped to secure +him. The boy was true to his word, assisting him to the best of his +ability, flinging himself between the legs of his father's assailants, +causing several of them to stumble and fall. At length, the fellow was +secured, and led before a magistrate; the boy, to whom he was heard to +say something which nobody understood, and to whom, after the man's +capture, no one paid much attention, was no more seen. + +"The rest, as far as this man was concerned, may be told in a few words; +nothing to criminate him was found on his person, but on his baggage +being examined, a quantity of spurious notes were discovered. Much of +his hardihood now forsook him, and in the hope of saving his life he made +some very important disclosures; amongst other things, he confessed that +it was he who had given me the notes in exchange for the horses, and also +the note to be changed. He was subsequently tried on two indictments, in +the second of which I appeared against him. He was condemned to die; +but, in consideration of the disclosures he had made, his sentence was +commuted to perpetual transportation. + +"My innocence was thus perfectly established before the eyes of the +world, and all my friends hastened to congratulate me. There was one who +congratulated me more than all the rest--it was my beloved one, +but--but--she was dying--" + +Here the old man drew his hand before his eyes, and remained for some +time without speaking; at length he removed his hand, and commenced again +with a broken voice: "You will pardon me if I hurry over this part of my +story, I am unable to dwell upon it. How dwell upon a period when I saw +my only earthly treasure pine away gradually day by day, and knew that +nothing could save her! She saw my agony, and did all she could to +console me, saying that she was herself quite resigned. A little time +before her death she expressed a wish that we should be united. I was +too happy to comply with her request. We were united, I brought her to +this house, where, in less than a week, she expired in my arms." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + + +The Old Man's Story continued--Misery in the Head--The Strange Marks--Tea- +dealer from London--Difficulties of the Chinese Language. + +After another pause the old man once more resumed his narration:--"If +ever there was a man perfectly miserable it was myself, after the loss of +that cherished woman. I sat solitary in the house, in which I had hoped +in her company to realize the choicest earthly happiness, a prey to the +bitterest reflections; many people visited, and endeavoured to console +me--amongst them was the clergyman of the parish, who begged me to be +resigned, and told me that it was good to be afflicted. I bowed my head, +but I could not help thinking how easy it must be for those who feel no +affliction, to bid others to be resigned, and to talk of the benefit +resulting from sorrow; perhaps I should have paid more attention to his +discourse than I did, provided he had been a person for whom it was +possible to entertain much respect, but his own heart was known to be set +on the things of this world. + +"Within a little time he had an opportunity, in his own case, of +practising resignation, and of realizing the benefit of being afflicted. +A merchant, to whom he had entrusted all his fortune, in the hope of a +large interest, became suddenly a bankrupt, with scarcely any assets. I +will not say that it was owing to this misfortune that the divine died in +less than a month after its occurrence, but such was the fact. Amongst +those who most frequently visited me was my friend the surgeon; he did +not confine himself to the common topics of consolation, but endeavoured +to impress upon me the necessity of rousing myself, advising me to occupy +my mind with some pursuit, particularly recommending agriculture; but +agriculture possessed no interest for me, nor, indeed, any pursuit within +my reach; my hopes of happiness had been blighted, and what cared I for +anything? so at last he thought it best to leave me to myself, hoping +that time would bring with it consolation; and I remained solitary in my +house, waited upon by a male and a female servant. Oh, what dreary +moments I passed! My only amusement--and it was a sad one--was to look +at the things which once belonged to my beloved, and which were now in my +possession. Oh, how fondly would I dwell upon them! There were some +books; I cared not for books, but these had belonged to my beloved. Oh, +how fondly did I dwell on them! Then there was her hat and bonnet--oh, +me, how fondly did I gaze upon them! and after looking at her things for +hours, I would sit and ruminate on the happiness I had lost. How I +execrated the moment I had gone to the fair to sell horses! 'Would that +I had never been to Horncastle to sell horses!' I would say; 'I might at +this moment have been enjoying the company of my beloved, leading a +happy, quiet, easy life, but for that fatal expedition;' that thought +worked on my brain, till my brain seemed to turn round. + +"One day I sat at the breakfast-table gazing vacantly around me, my mind +was in a state of inexpressible misery; there was a whirl in my brain, +probably like that which people feel who are rapidly going mad; this +increased to such a degree that I felt giddiness coming upon me. To +abate this feeling I no longer permitted my eyes to wander about, but +fixed them upon an object on the table, and continued gazing at it for +several minutes without knowing what it was; at length, the misery in my +head was somewhat stilled, my lips moved, and I heard myself saying, +'What odd marks!' I had fastened my eyes on the side of a teapot, and by +keeping them fixed upon it, had become aware of a fact that had escaped +my notice before--namely, that there were marks upon it. I kept my eyes +fixed upon them, and repeated at intervals, 'What strange marks!'--for I +thought that looking upon the marks tended to abate the whirl in my head: +I kept tracing the marks one after the other, and I observed that though +they all bore a general resemblance to each other, they were all to a +certain extent different. The smallest portion possible of curious +interest had been awakened within me, and, at last, I asked myself, +within my own mind, 'What motive could induce people to put such odd +marks on their crockery? they were not pictures, they were not letters; +what motive could people have for putting them there?' At last I removed +my eyes from the teapot, and thought for a few moments about the marks; +presently, however, I felt the whirl returning; the marks became almost +effaced from my mind, and I was beginning to revert to my miserable +ruminations, when suddenly methought I heard a voice say, 'The marks! the +marks! cling to the marks? or--' So I fixed my eyes again upon the +marks, inspecting them more attentively, if possible, than I had done +before, and, at last, I came to the conclusion that they were not +capricious or fanciful marks, but were arranged systematically; when I +had gazed at them for a considerable time, I turned the teapot round, and +on the other side I observed marks of a similar kind, which I soon +discovered were identical with the ones I had been observing. All the +marks were something alike, but all somewhat different, and on comparing +them with each other, I was struck with the frequent occurrence of a mark +crossing an upright line, or projecting from it, now on the right, now on +the left side; and I said to myself, 'Why does this mark sometimes cross +the upright line, and sometimes project?' and the more I thought on the +matter, the less did I feel of the misery in my head. + +"The things were at length removed, and I sat, as I had for some time +past been wont to sit after my meals, silent and motionless; but in the +present instance my mind was not entirely abandoned to the one mournful +idea which had so long distressed it. It was, to a certain extent, +occupied with the marks on the teapot; it is true that the mournful idea +strove hard with the marks on the teapot for the mastery in my mind, and +at last the painful idea drove the marks of the teapot out; they, +however, would occasionally return and flit across my mind for a moment +or two, and their coming was like a momentary relief from intense pain. I +thought once or twice that I would have the teapot placed before me, that +I might examine the marks at leisure, but I considered that it would be +as well to defer the re-examination of the marks till the next morning; +at that time I did not take tea of an evening. By deferring the +examination thus, I had something to look forward to on the next morning. +The day was a melancholy one, but it certainly was more tolerable to me +than any of the others had been since the death of my beloved. As I lay +awake that night I occasionally thought of the marks, and in my sleep +methought I saw them upon the teapot vividly before me. On the morrow, I +examined the marks again; how singular they looked! Surely they must +mean something, and if so, what could they mean? and at last I thought +within myself whether it would be possible for me to make out what they +meant: that day I felt more relief than on the preceding one, and towards +night I walked a little about. + +"In about a week's time I received a visit from my friend the surgeon; +after a little discourse, he told me that he perceived I was better than +when he had last seen me, and asked me what I had been about; I told him +that I had been principally occupied in considering certain marks which I +had found on a teapot, and wondering what they could mean; he smiled at +first, but instantly assuming a serious look, he asked to see the teapot. +I produced it, and after having surveyed the marks with attention, he +observed that they were highly curious, and also wondered what they +meant. 'I strongly advise you,' said he, 'to attempt to make them out, +and also to take moderate exercise, and to see after your concerns.' I +followed his advice; every morning I studied the marks on the teapot, and +in the course of the day took moderate exercise, and attended to little +domestic matters, as became the master of a house. + +"I subsequently learned that the surgeon, in advising me to study the +marks, and endeavour to make out their meaning, merely hoped that by +means of them my mind might by degrees be diverted from the mournful idea +on which I had so long brooded. He was a man well skilled in his +profession, but had read and thought very little on matters unconnected +with it. He had no idea that the marks had any particular signification, +or were anything else but common and fortuitous ones. That I became at +all acquainted with their nature was owing to a ludicrous circumstance +which I will now relate. + +"One day, chancing to be at a neighbouring town, I was struck with the +appearance of a shop recently established. It had an immense bow-window, +and every part of it, to which a brush could be applied, was painted in a +gaudy flaming style. Large bowls of green and black tea were placed upon +certain chests, which stood at the window. I stopped to look at them, +such a display, whatever it may be at the present time, being, at the +period of which I am speaking, quite uncommon in a country town. The +tea, whether black or green, was very shining and inviting, and the +bowls, of which there were three, standing on as many chests, were very +grand and foreign looking. Two of these were white, with figures and +trees painted upon them in blue; the other, which was the middlemost, had +neither trees nor figures upon it, but, as I looked through the window, +appeared to have on its sides the very same kind of marks which I had +observed on the teapot at home; there were also marks on the tea-chests, +somewhat similar, but much larger, and, apparently, not executed with so +much care. 'Best teas direct from China,' said a voice close to my side; +and looking round I saw a youngish man, with a frizzled head, flat face, +and an immensely wide mouth, standing in his shirt-sleeves by the door. +'Direct from China,' said he; 'perhaps you will do me the favour to walk +in and scent them?' 'I do not want any tea,' said I; 'I was only +standing at the window examining those marks on the bowl and the chests. +I have observed similar ones on a teapot at home.' 'Pray walk in, sir,' +said the young fellow, extending his mouth till it reached nearly from +ear to ear; 'pray walk in, and I shall be happy to give you any +information respecting the manners and customs of the Chinese in my +power.' Thereupon I followed him into his shop, where he began to +harangue on the manners, customs, and peculiarities of the Chinese, +especially their manner of preparing tea, not forgetting to tell me that +the only genuine Chinese tea ever imported into England was to be found +in his shop. 'With respect to those marks,' said he, 'on the bowl and +chests, they are nothing more nor less than Chinese writing expressing +something, though what I can't exactly tell you. Allow me to sell you +this pound of tea,' he added, showing me a paper parcel. 'On the +envelope there is a printed account of the Chinese system of writing, +extracted from authors of the most established reputation. These things +I print, principally with the hope of, in some degree, removing the worse +than Gothic ignorance prevalent amongst natives of these parts. I am +from London myself. With respect to all that relates to the Chinese real +imperial tea, I assure you sir, that--' Well, to make short of what you +doubtless consider a very tiresome story, I purchased the tea and carried +it home. The tea proved imperially bad, but the paper envelope really +contained some information on the Chinese language and writing, amounting +to about as much as you gained from me the other day. On learning that +the marks on the teapot expressed words, I felt my interest with respect +to them considerably increased, and returned to the task of inspecting +them with greater zeal than before, hoping, by continually looking at +them, to be able eventually to understand their meaning, in which hope +you may easily believe I was disappointed, though my desire to understand +what they represented continued on the increase. In this dilemma I +determined to apply again to the shopkeeper from whom I bought the tea. I +found him in rather low spirits, his shirt-sleeves were soiled, and his +hair was out of curl. On my inquiring how he got on, he informed me that +he intended speedily to leave, having received little or no +encouragement, the people, in their Gothic ignorance, preferring to deal +with an old-fashioned shopkeeper over the way, who, so far from +possessing any acquaintance with the polity and institutions of the +Chinese, did not, he believed, know that tea came from China. 'You are +come for some more, I suppose?' said he. On receiving an answer in the +negative he looked somewhat blank, but when I added that I came to +consult with him as to the means which I must take in order to acquire +the Chinese language he brightened up. 'You must get a grammar,' said +he, rubbing his hands. 'Have you not one?' said I. 'No,' he replied, +'but any bookseller can procure you one.' As I was taking my departure, +he told me that as he was about to leave the neighbourhood, the bowl at +the window, which bore the inscription, besides some other pieces of +porcelain of a similar description, were at my service, provided I chose +to purchase them. I consented, and two or three days afterwards took +from off his hands all the china in his possession which bore the +inscriptions, paying what he demanded. Had I waited till the sale of his +effects, which occurred within a few weeks, I could probably have +procured it for a fifth part of the sum which I paid, the other pieces +realizing very little. I did not, however, grudge the poor fellow what +he got from me, as I considered myself to be somewhat in his debt for the +information he had afforded me. + +"As for the rest of my story, it may be briefly told. I followed the +advice of the shopkeeper, and applied to a bookseller who wrote to his +correspondent in London. After a long interval, I was informed that if I +wished to learn Chinese, I must do so through the medium of French, there +being neither Chinese grammar nor dictionary in our language. I was at +first very much disheartened. I determined, however, at last to gratify +my desire of learning Chinese, even at the expense of learning French. I +procured the books, and in order to qualify myself to turn them to +account, took lessons in French from a little Swiss, the usher of a +neighbouring boarding-school. I was very stupid in acquiring French; +perseverance, however, enabled me to acquire a knowledge sufficient for +the object I had in view. In about two years I began to study Chinese by +myself, through the medium of the French." + +"Well," said I, "and how did you get on with the study of the Chinese?" + +And then the old man proceeded to inform me how he got on with the study +of Chinese, enumerated all the difficulties he had had to encounter; +dilating upon his frequent despondency of mind, and occasionally his +utter despair of ever mastering Chinese. He told me that more than once +he had determined upon giving up the study, but when the misery in his +head forthwith returned, to escape from which he had as often resumed it. +It appeared, however, that ten years elapsed before he was able to use +ten of the two hundred and fourteen keys, which serve to undo the locks +of Chinese writing. + +"And are you able at present to use the entire number?" I demanded. + +"Yes," said the old man; "I can at present use the whole number. I know +the key for every particular lock, though I frequently find the wards +unwilling to give way." + +"Has nothing particular occurred to you," said I, "during the time that +you have been prosecuting your studies?" + +"During the whole time in which I have been engaged in these studies," +said the old man, "only one circumstance has occurred which requires any +particular mention--the death of my old friend the surgeon--who was +carried off suddenly by a fit of apoplexy. His death was a great shock +to me, and for a time interrupted my studies. His son, however, who +succeeded him, was very kind to me, and, in some degree, supplied his +father's place; and I gradually returned to my Chinese locks and keys." + +"And in applying keys to the Chinese locks you employ your time?" + +"Yes," said the old man, "in making out the inscriptions on the various +pieces of porcelain, which I have at different times procured, I pass my +time. The first inscription which I translated was that on the teapot of +my beloved." + +"And how many other pieces of porcelain may you have at present in your +possession?" + +"About fifteen hundred." + +"And how did you obtain them?" I demanded. + +"Without much labour," said the old man, "in the neighbouring towns and +villages--chiefly at auctions--of which, about twenty years ago, there +were many in these parts." + +"And may I ask your reasons for confining your studies entirely to the +crockery literature of China, when you have all the rest at your +disposal?" + +"The inscriptions enable me to pass my time," said the old man; "what +more would the whole literature of China do?" + +"And from these inscriptions," said I, "what a book it is in your power +to make, whenever so disposed. 'Translations from the crockery +literature of China.' Such a book would be sure to take; even glorious +John himself would not disdain to publish it." The old man smiled. "I +have no desire for literary distinction," said he; "no ambition. My +original wish was to pass my life in easy, quiet obscurity, with her whom +I loved. I was disappointed in my wish; she was removed, who constituted +my only felicity in this life; desolation came to my heart, and misery to +my head. To escape from the latter I had recourse to Chinese. By +degrees the misery left my head, but the desolation of the heart yet +remains." + +"Be of good cheer," said I; "through the instrumentality of this +affliction you have learnt Chinese, and, in so doing, learnt to practise +the duties of hospitality. Who but a man who could read Runes on a +teapot, would have received an unfortunate wayfarer as you have received +me?" + +"Well," said the old man, "let us hope that all is for the best. I am by +nature indolent, and, but for this affliction, should, perhaps, have +hardly taken the trouble to do my duty to my fellow-creatures. I am +very, very indolent," said he, slightly glancing towards the clock; +"therefore let us hope that all is for the best; but, oh! these trials, +they are very hard to bear." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + + +The Leave-taking--Spirit of the Hearth--What's o'Clock? + +The next morning, having breakfasted with my old friend, I went into the +stable to make the necessary preparations for my departure; there, with +the assistance of a stable lad, I cleaned and caparisoned my horse, and +then, returning into the house, I made the old female attendant such a +present as I deemed would be some compensation for the trouble I had +caused. Hearing that the old gentleman was in his study, I repaired to +him. "I am come to take leave of you," said I, "and to thank you for all +the hospitality which I have received at your hands." The eyes of the +old man were fixed steadfastly on the inscription which I had found him +studying on a former occasion. "At length," he murmured to himself, "I +have it--I think I have it;" and then, looking at me, he said, "So you +are about to depart?" + +"Yes," said I, "my horse will be at the front door in a few minutes; I am +glad, however, before I go, to find that you have mastered the +inscription." + +"Yes," said the old man, "I believe I have mastered it; it seems to +consist of some verses relating to the worship of the Spirit of the +Hearth." + +"What is the Spirit of the Hearth?" said I. + +"One of the many demons which the Chinese worship," said the old man; +"they do not worship one God, but many." And then the old man told me a +great many highly-interesting particulars respecting the demon worship of +the Chinese. + +After the lapse of at least half an hour I said, "I must not linger here +any longer, however willing. Horncastle is distant, and I wish to be +there to-night. Pray can you inform me what's o'clock?" + +The old man, rising, looked towards the clock which hung on the side of +the room at his left hand, on the farther side of the table at which he +was seated. + +"I am rather short-sighted," said I, "and cannot distinguish the number, +at that distance." + +"It is ten o'clock," said the old man; "I believe somewhat past." + +"A quarter, perhaps?" + +"Yes," said the old man "a quarter or--" + +"Or?" + +"Seven minutes, or ten minutes past ten." + +"I do not understand you." + +"Why, to tell you the truth," said the old man, with a smile, "there is +one thing to the knowledge of which I could never exactly attain." + +"Do you mean to say," said I, "that you do not know what's o'clock?" + +"I can give a guess," said the old man, "to within a few minutes." + +"But you cannot tell the exact moment?" + +"No," said the old man. + +"In the name of wonder," said I, "with that thing there on the wall +continually ticking in your ear, how comes it that you do not know what's +o'clock?" + +"Why," said the old man, "I have contented myself with giving a tolerably +good guess; to do more would have been too great trouble." + +"But you have learnt Chinese," said I. + +"Yes," said the old man, "I have learnt Chinese." + +"Well," said I, "I really would counsel you to learn to know what's +o'clock as soon as possible. Consider what a sad thing it would be to go +out of the world not knowing what's o'clock. A millionth part of the +trouble required to learn Chinese would, if employed, infallibly teach +you to know what's o'clock." + +"I had a motive for learning Chinese," said the old man, "the hope of +appeasing the misery in my head. With respect to not knowing what's +o'clock, I cannot see anything particularly sad in the matter. A man may +get through the world very creditably without knowing what's o'clock. +Yet, upon the whole, it is no bad thing to know what's o'clock--you, of +course, do? It would be too good a joke if two people were to be +together, one knowing Armenian and the other Chinese, and neither knowing +what's o'clock. I'll now see you off." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + + +Arrival at Horncastle--The Inn and Ostlers--The Garret--Figure of a Man +with a Candle. + +Leaving the house of the old man who knew Chinese, but could not tell +what was o'clock, I wended my way to Horncastle, which I reached in the +evening of the same day, without having met any adventure on the way +worthy of being marked down in this very remarkable history. + +The town was a small one, seemingly ancient, and was crowded with people +and horses. I proceeded, without delay, to the inn to which my friend +the surgeon had directed me. "It is of no use coming here," said two or +three ostlers, as I entered the yard--"all full--no room whatever;" +whilst one added in an undertone, "That ere a'n't a bad-looking horse." +"I want to see the master of this inn," said I, as I dismounted from the +horse. "See the master," said an ostler--the same who had paid the +negative kind of compliment to the horse--"a likely thing, truly; my +master is drinking wine with some of the grand gentry, and can't be +disturbed for the sake of the like of you." "I bring a letter to him," +said I, pulling out the surgeon's epistle. "I wish you would deliver it +to him," I added, offering a half-crown. "Oh, it's you, is it?" said the +ostler, taking the letter and the half-crown; "my master will be right +glad to see you; why, you ha'n't been here for many a year; I'll carry +the note to him at once." And with these words he hurried into the +house. "That's a nice horse, young man," said another ostler, "what will +you take for it?" to which interrogation I made no answer. "If you wish +to sell him," said the ostler, coming up to me, and winking knowingly, "I +think I and my partners might offer you a summut under seventy pounds;" +to which kind and half-insinuated offer I made no reply, save by winking +in the same kind of knowing manner in which I observed him wink. "Rather +leary!" said a third ostler. "Well, young man, perhaps you will drink to- +night with me and my partners, when we can talk the matter over." Before +I had time to answer, the landlord, a well-dressed, good-looking man, +made his appearance with the ostler; he bore the letter in his hand. +Without glancing at me, he betook himself at once to consider the horse, +going round him, and observing every point with the utmost minuteness. At +last, having gone round the horse three times, he stopped beside me, and +keeping his eyes on the horse, bent his head towards his right shoulder. +"That horse is worth some money," said he, turning towards me suddenly, +and slightly touching me on the arm with the letter which he held in his +hand; to which observation I made no reply, save by bending my head +towards the right shoulder as I had seen him do. "The young man is going +to talk to me and my partners about it to-night," said the ostler who had +expressed an opinion that he and his friends might offer me somewhat +under seventy pounds for the animal. "Pooh!" said the landlord, "the +young man knows what he is about; in the meantime lead the horse to the +reserved stall, and see well after him. My friend," said he, taking me +aside after the ostler had led the animal away, "recommends you to me in +the strongest manner, on which account alone I take you and your horse +in. I need not advise you not to be taken in, as I should say, by your +look, that you are tolerably awake; but there are queer hands at +Horncastle at this time, and those fellows of mine, you understand me--; +but I have a great deal to do at present, so you must excuse me." And +thereupon went into the house. + +That same evening I was engaged at least two hours in the stable, in +rubbing the horse down, and preparing him for the exhibition which I +intended he should make in the fair on the following day. The ostler, to +whom I had given the half-crown, occasionally assisted me, though he was +too much occupied by the horses of other guests to devote any length of +time to the service of mine; he more than once repeated to me his firm +conviction that himself and partners could afford to offer me summut for +the horse; and at a later hour when, in compliance with his invitation, I +took a glass of summut with himself and partners, in a little room +surrounded with corn-chests, on which we sat, both himself and partners +endeavoured to impress upon me, chiefly by means of nods and winks, their +conviction that they could afford to give me summut for the horse, +provided I were disposed to sell him; in return for which intimation, +with as many nods and winks as they had all collectively used, I +endeavoured to impress upon them my conviction that I could get summut +handsomer in the fair than they might be disposed to offer me, seeing as +how--which how I followed by a wink and a nod, which they seemed +perfectly to understand, one or two of them declaring that if the case +was so, it made a great deal of difference, and that they did not wish to +be any hindrance to me, more particularly as it was quite clear I had +been an ostler like themselves. + +It was late at night when I began to think of retiring to rest. On +inquiring if there was any place in which I could sleep, I was informed +that there was a bed at my service, provided I chose to sleep in a two- +bedded room, one of the beds of which was engaged by another gentleman. I +expressed my satisfaction at this arrangement, and was conducted by a +maid-servant up many pairs of stairs to a garret, in which were two small +beds, in one of which she gave me to understand another gentleman slept; +he had, however, not yet retired to rest; I asked who he was, but the +maid-servant could give me no information about him, save that he was a +highly respectable gentleman, and a friend of her master's. Presently, +bidding me good night, she left me with a candle; and I, having undressed +myself and extinguished the light, went to bed. Notwithstanding the +noises which sounded from every part of the house, I was not slow in +falling asleep, being thoroughly tired. I know not how long I might have +been in bed, perhaps two hours, when I was partially awakened by a light +shining upon my face, whereupon, unclosing my eyes, I perceived the +figure of a man, with a candle in one hand, staring at my face, whilst +with the other hand, he held back the curtain of the bed. As I have said +before, I was only partially awakened, my power of conception was +consequently very confused; it appeared to me, however, that the man was +dressed in a green coat; that he had curly brown or black hair, and that +there was something peculiar in his look. Just as I was beginning to +recollect myself, the curtain dropped, and I heard, or thought I heard, a +voice say, "Don't know the cove." Then there was a rustling like a +person undressing, whereupon being satisfied that it was my +fellow-lodger, I dropped asleep, but was awakened again by a kind of +heavy plunge upon the other bed, which caused it to rock and creak, when +I observed that the light had been extinguished, probably blown out, if I +might judge from a rather disagreeable smell of burnt wick which remained +in the room, and which kept me awake till I heard my companion breathing +hard, when, turning on the other side, I was again once more speedily in +the arms of slumber. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + + +Horncastle Fair. + +It had been my intention to be up and doing early on the following +morning, but my slumbers proved so profound, that I did not wake until +about eight; on arising, I again found myself the sole occupant of the +apartment, my more alert companion having probably risen at a much +earlier hour. Having dressed myself, I descended, and going to the +stable, found my horse under the hands of my friend the ostler, who was +carefully rubbing him down. "There a'n't a better horse in the fair," +said he to me, "and as you are one of us, and appear to be all right, +I'll give you a piece of advice--don't take less than a hundred and fifty +for him; if you mind your hits, you may get it, for I have known two +hundred given in this fair for one no better, if so good." "Well," said +I, "thank you for your advice, which I will take, and, if successful, +will give you 'summut' handsome." "Thank you," said the ostler; "and now +let me ask whether you are up to all the ways of this here place?" "I +have never been here before," said I, "but I have a pair of tolerably +sharp eyes in my head." "That I see you have," said the ostler, "but +many a body, with as sharp a pair of eyes as yourn, has lost his horse in +this fair, for want of having been here before, therefore," said he, +"I'll give you a caution or two." Thereupon the ostler proceeded to give +me at least half a dozen cautions, only two of which I shall relate to +the reader:--the first, not to stop to listen to what any chance customer +might have to say; and the last--the one on which he appeared to lay most +stress--by no manner of means to permit a Yorkshireman to get up into the +saddle, "for," said he, "if you do, it is three to one that he rides off +with the horse; he can't help it; trust a cat amongst cream, but never +trust a Yorkshireman on the saddle of a good horse; by-the-by," he +continued, "that saddle of yours is not a particularly good one, no more +is the bridle. I tell you what, as you seem a decent kind of a young +chap, I'll lend you a saddle and bridle of my master's, almost bran new; +he won't object, I know, as you are a friend of his, only you must not +forget your promise to come down with summut handsome after you have sold +the animal." + +After a slight breakfast I mounted the horse, which, decked out in his +borrowed finery, really looked better by a large sum of money than on any +former occasion. Making my way out of the yard of the inn, I was +instantly in the principal street of the town, up and down which an +immense number of horses were being exhibited, some led, and others with +riders. "A wonderful small quantity of good horses in the fair this +time!" I heard a stout jockey-looking individual say, who was staring up +the street with his side towards me. "Halloo, young fellow!" said he, a +few moments after I had passed, "whose horse is that? Stop! I want to +look at him!" Though confident that he was addressing himself to me, I +took no notice, remembering the advice of the ostler, and proceeded up +the street. My horse possessed a good walking step; but walking, as the +reader knows, was not his best pace, which was the long trot, at which I +could not well exercise him in the street, on account of the crowd of men +and animals; however, as he walked along, I could easily perceive that he +attracted no slight attention amongst those who, by their jockey dress +and general appearance, I imagined to be connoisseurs; I heard various +calls to stop, to none of which I paid the slightest attention. In a few +minutes I found myself out of the town, when, turning round for the +purpose of returning, I found I had been followed by several of the +connoisseur-looking individuals, whom I had observed in the fair. "Now +would be the time for a display," thought I; and looking around me I +observed two five-barred gates, one on each side of the road, and +fronting each other. Turning my horse's head to one, I pressed my heels +to his sides, loosened the reins, and gave an encouraging cry, whereupon +the animal cleared the gate in a twinkling. Before he had advanced ten +yards in the field to which the gate opened, I had turned him round, and +again giving him cry and rein, I caused him to leap back again into the +road, and still allowing him head, I made him leap the other gate; and +forthwith turning him round, I caused him to leap once more into the +road, where he stood proudly tossing his head, as much as to say, "What +more?" "A fine horse! a capital horse!" said several of the +connoisseurs. "What do you ask for him?" "Too much for any of you to +pay," said I. "A horse like this is intended for other kind of customers +than any of you." "How do you know that?" said one; the very same person +whom I had heard complaining in the street of the paucity of good horses +in the fair. "Come, let us know what you ask for him?" "A hundred and +fifty pounds!" said I; "neither more nor less." "Do you call that a +great price?" said the man. "Why, I thought you would have asked double +that amount! You do yourself injustice, young man." "Perhaps I do," +said I, "but that's my affair; I do not choose to take more." "I wish +you would let me get into the saddle," said the man; "the horse knows +you, and therefore shows to more advantage; but I should like to see how +he would move under me, who am a stranger. Will you let me get into the +saddle, young man?" "No," said I; "I will not let you get into the +saddle." "Why not?" said the man. "Lest you should be a Yorkshireman," +said I; "and should run away with the horse." "Yorkshire?" said the man; +"I am from Suffolk; silly Suffolk--so you need not be afraid of my +running away with the horse." "Oh! if that's the case," said I, "I +should be afraid that the horse would run away with you; so I will by no +means let you mount." "Will you let me look in his mouth?" said the man. +"If you please," said I; "but I tell you, he's apt to bite." "He can +scarcely be a worse bite than his master," said the man, looking into the +horse's mouth; "he's four off. I say, young man, will you warrant this +horse?" "No," said I; "I never warrant horses; the horses that I ride +can always warrant themselves." "I wish you would let me speak a word to +you," said he. "Just come aside. It's a nice horse," said he, in a half +whisper, after I had ridden a few paces aside with him. "It's a nice +horse," said he, placing his hand upon the pommel of the saddle, and +looking up in my face, "and I think I can find you a customer. If you +would take a hundred, I think my lord would purchase it, for he has sent +me about the fair to look him up a horse, by which he could hope to make +an honest penny." "Well," said I, "and could he not make an honest +penny, and yet give me the price I ask?" "Why," said the go-between, "a +hundred and fifty pounds is as much as the animal is worth, or nearly so; +and my lord, do you see--" "I see no reason at all," said I, "why I +should sell the animal for less than he is worth, in order that his +lordship may be benefited by him; so that if his lordship wants to make +an honest penny, he must find some person who would consider the +disadvantage of selling him a horse for less than it is worth, as +counterbalanced by the honour of dealing with a lord, which I should +never do; but I can't be wasting my time here. I am going back to the --- +, where, if you, or any person, are desirous of purchasing the horse, you +must come within the next half hour, or I shall probably not feel +disposed to sell him at all." "Another word, young man," said the +jockey; but without staying to hear what he had to say, I put the horse +to his best trot, and re-entering the town, and threading my way as well +as I could through the press, I returned to the yard of the inn, where, +dismounting, I stood still, holding the horse by the bridle. + +I had been standing in this manner about five minutes, when I saw the +jockey enter the yard, accompanied by another individual. They advanced +directly towards me. "Here is my lord come to look at the horse, young +man," said the jockey. My lord, as the jockey called him, was a tall +figure, of about five-and-thirty. He had on his head a hat somewhat +rusty, and on his back a surtout of blue rather the worse for wear. His +forehead, if not high, was exceedingly narrow; his eyes were brown, with +a rat-like glare in them; the nose was rather long, and the mouth very +wide; the cheek-bones high, and the cheeks, as to hue and consistency, +exhibiting very much the appearance of a withered red apple; there was a +gaunt expression of hunger in the whole countenance. He had scarcely +glanced at the horse, when drawing in his cheeks, he thrust out his lips +very much after the manner of a baboon, when he sees a piece of sugar +held out towards him. "Is this horse yours?" said he, suddenly turning +towards me, with a kind of smirk. "It's my horse," said I; "are you the +person who wishes to make an honest penny by it?" "How!" said he, +drawing up his head with a very consequential look, and speaking with a +very haughty tone, "what do you mean?" We looked at each other full in +the face; after a few moments, the muscles of the mouth of him of the +hungry look began to move violently, the face was puckered into +innumerable wrinkles, and the eyes became half closed. "Well," said I, +"have you ever seen me before? I suppose you are asking yourself that +question." "Excuse me, sir," said he, dropping his lofty look, and +speaking in a very subdued and civil tone, "I have never had the honour +of seeing you before, that is"--said he, slightly glancing at me again, +and again moving the muscles of his mouth, "no, I have never seen you +before," he added, making me a bow. "I have never had that pleasure; my +business with you, at present, is to inquire the lowest price you are +willing to take for this horse. My agent here informs me that you ask +one hundred and fifty pounds, which I cannot think of giving--the horse +is a showy horse, but look, my dear sir, he has a defect here, and there +in his near fore leg I observe something which looks very like a +splint--yes, upon my credit," said he, touching the animal, "he has a +splint, or something which will end in one. A hundred and fifty pounds, +sir! what could have induced you ever to ask anything like that for this +animal? I protest that, in my time, I have frequently bought a better +for-- Who are you, sir? I am in treaty for this horse," said he to a man +who had come up whilst he was talking, and was now looking into the +horse's mouth. "Who am I?" said the man, still looking into the horse's +mouth; "who am I? his lordship asks me. Ah, I see, close on five," said +he, releasing the horse's jaws, and looking at me. This new comer was a +thin, wiry-made individual, with wiry curling brown hair; his face was +dark, and wore an arch and somewhat roguish expression; upon one of his +eyes was a kind of speck or beam; he might be about forty, wore a green +jockey coat, and held in his hand a black riding whip, with a knob of +silver wire. As I gazed upon his countenance, it brought powerfully to +my mind the face which, by the light of the candle, I had seen staring +over me on the preceding night, when lying in bed and half asleep. Close +beside him, and seemingly in his company, stood an exceedingly tall +figure, that of a youth, seemingly about one-and-twenty, dressed in a +handsome riding dress, and wearing on his head a singular hat, green in +colour, and with a very high peak. "What do you ask for this horse?" +said he of the green coat, winking at me with the eye which had a beam in +it, whilst the other shone and sparkled like Mrs. Colonel W-'s Golconda +diamond. "Who are you, sir, I demand once more?" said he of the hungry +look. "Who am I? why, who should I be but Jack Dale, who buys horses for +himself and other folk; I want one at present for this short young +gentleman," said he, motioning with his finger to the gigantic youth. +"Well, sir," said the other, "and what business have you to interfere +between me and any purchase I may be disposed to make?" "Well, then," +said the other, "be quick and purchase the horse, or, perhaps, I may." +"Do you think I am to be dictated to by a fellow of your description?" +said his lordship, "begone, or--" "What do you ask for this horse?" said +the other to me, very coolly. "A hundred and fifty," said I. "I +shouldn't mind giving it to you," said he. "You will do no such thing," +said his lordship, speaking so fast that he almost stuttered. "Sir," +said he to me, "I must give you what you ask; Symmonds, take possession +of the animal for me," said he to the other jockey who attended him. "You +will please to do no such thing without my consent," said I, "I have not +sold him." "I have this moment told you that I will give you the price +you demand," said his lordship; "is not that sufficient?" "No," said I, +"there is a proper manner of doing everything--had you come forward in a +manly and gentlemanly manner to purchase the horse, I should have been +happy to sell him to you, but after all the fault you have found with +him, I would not sell him to you at any price, so send your friend to +find up another." "You behave in this manner, I suppose," said his +lordship, "because this fellow has expressed a willingness to come to +your terms. I would advise you to be cautious how you trust the animal +in his hands; I think I have seen him before, and could tell you--" "What +can you tell of me?" said the other, going up to him; "except that I have +been a poor dicky-boy, and that now I am a dealer in horses, and that my +father was lagged; that's all you could tell of me, and that I don't mind +telling myself: but there are two things they can't say of me, they can't +say that I am either a coward or a screw either, except so far as one who +gets his bread by horses may be expected to be; and they can't say of me +that I ever ate up an ice which a young woman was waiting for, or that I +ever backed out of a fight. Horse!" said he, motioning with his finger +tauntingly to the other; "what do you want with a horse, except to take +the bread out of the mouth of a poor man--to-morrow is not the battle of +Waterloo, so that you don't want to back out of danger, by pretending to +have hurt yourself by falling from the creature's back, my lord of the +white feather--come, none of your fierce looks--I am not afraid of you." +In fact, the other had assumed an expression of the deadliest malice, his +teeth were clenched, his lips quivered, and were quite pale; the rat-like +eyes sparkled, and he made a half spring, a la rat, towards his +adversary, who only laughed. Restraining himself, however, he suddenly +turned to his understrapper, saying, "Symmonds, will you see me thus +insulted? go and trounce this scoundrel; you can, I know." "Symmonds +trounce me!" said the other, going up to the person addressed, and +drawing his hand contemptuously over his face; "why, I beat Symmonds in +this very yard in one round three years ago; didn't I, Symmonds?" said he +to the understrapper, who held down his head, muttering, in a surly tone, +"I didn't come here to fight; let every one take his own part." "That's +right, Symmonds," said the other, "especially every one from whom there +is nothing to be got. I would give you half-a-crown for all the trouble +you have had, provided I were not afraid that my Lord Plume there would +get it from you as soon as you leave the yard together. Come, take +yourselves both off; there's nothing to be made here." Indeed, his +lordship seemed to be of the same opinion, for after a further glance at +the horse, a contemptuous look at me, and a scowl at the jockey, he +turned on his heel, muttering something which sounded like fellows, and +stalked out of the yard, followed by Symmonds. + +"And now, young man," said the jockey, or whatever he was, turning to me +with an arch leer, "I suppose I may consider myself as the purchaser of +this here animal, for the use and behoof of this young gentleman?" making +a sign with his head to the tall young man by his side. "By no means," +said I, "I am utterly unacquainted with either of you, and before parting +with the horse I must be satisfied as to the respectability of the +purchaser." "Oh! as to that matter," said he, "I have plenty of vouchers +for my respectability about me;" and thrusting his hand into his bosom +below his waistcoat, he drew out a large bundle of notes. "These are the +kind of things," said he, "which vouch best for a man's respectability." +"Not always," said I; "indeed, sometimes these kind of things need +vouchers for themselves." The man looked at me with a peculiar look. "Do +you mean to say that these notes are not sufficient notes?" said he, +"because if you do I shall take the liberty of thinking you are not over +civil, and when I thinks a person is not over and above civil I sometimes +takes off my coat; and when my coat is off--" "You sometimes knock +people down," I added; "well, whether you knock me down or not, I beg +leave to tell you that I am a stranger in this fair, and that I shall +part with the horse to nobody who has no better guarantee for his +respectability than a roll of bank-notes, which may be good or not for +what I know, who am not a judge of such things." "Oh! if you are a +stranger here," said the man, "as I believe you are, never having seen +you here before except last night, when I think I saw you above stairs by +the glimmer of a candle--I say, if you are a stranger, you are quite +right to be cautious; queer things being done in this fair, as nobody +knows better than myself," he added with a leer; "but I suppose if the +landlord of the house vouches for me and my notes, you will have no +objection to part with the horse to me?" "None whatever," said I, "and +in the meantime the horse can return to the stable." + +Thereupon I delivered the horse to my friend the ostler. + +The landlord of the house on being questioned by me as to the character +and condition of my new acquaintance, informed me that he was a +respectable horsedealer, and an intimate friend of his, whereupon the +purchase was soon brought to a satisfactory conclusion. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + + +High Dutch. + +It was evening: and myself and the two acquaintances I had made in the +fair--namely, the jockey and the tall foreigner--sat in a large upstairs +room, which looked into a court; we had dined with several people +connected with the fair at a long _table d'hote_; they had now departed, +and we sat at a small side-table with wine and a candle before us; both +my companions had pipes in their mouths--the jockey a common pipe, and +the foreigner, one, the syphon of which, made of some kind of wood, was +at least six feet long, and the bowl of which, made of a white kind of +substance like porcelain, and capable of holding nearly an ounce of +tobacco, rested on the ground. The jockey frequently emptied and +replenished his glass; the foreigner sometimes raised his to his lips, +for no other purpose seemingly than to moisten them, as he never drained +his glass. As for myself, though I did not smoke, I had a glass before +me, from which I sometimes took a sip. The room, notwithstanding the +window was flung open, was in general so filled with smoke, chiefly that +which was drawn from the huge bowl of the foreigner, that my companions +and I were frequently concealed from each other's eyes. The +conversation, which related entirely to the events of the fair, was +carried on by the jockey and myself, the foreigner, who appeared to +understand the greater part of what we said, occasionally putting in a +few observations in broken English. At length the jockey, after the +other had made some ineffectual attempts to express something +intelligibly which he wished to say, observed, "Isn't it a pity that so +fine a fellow as meinheer, and so clever a fellow too, as I believe him +to be, is not a better master of our language?" + +"Is the gentleman a German?" said I; "if so, I can interpret for him +anything he wishes to say." + +"The deuce you can," said the jockey, taking his pipe out of his mouth, +and staring at me through the smoke. + +"Ha! you speak German," vociferated the foreigner in that language. "By +Isten, I am glad of it! I wanted to say--" And here he said in German +what he wished to say, and which was of no great importance, and which I +translated into English. + +"Well, if you don't put me out," said the jockey; "what language is +that--Dutch?" + +"High Dutch," said I. + +"High Dutch, and you speak High Dutch,--why, I had booked you for as +great an ignoramus as myself, who can't write--no, nor distinguish in a +book a great A from a bull's foot." + +"A person may be a very clever man," said I--"no, not a clever man, for +clever signifies clerkly, and a clever man one who is able to read and +write, and entitled to the benefit of his clergy or clerkship; but a +person may be a very acute person without being able to read or write. I +never saw a more acute countenance than your own." + +"No soft soap," said the jockey, "for I never uses any. However, thank +you for your information; I have hitherto thought myself a'nition clever +fellow, but from henceforth shall consider myself just the contrary, and +only--what's the word?--confounded 'cute." + +"Just so," said I. + +"Well," said the jockey, "as you say you can speak High Dutch, I should +like to hear you and master six foot six fire away at each other." + +"I cannot speak German," said I, "but I can understand tolerably well +what others say in it." + +"Come no backing out," said the jockey, "let's hear you fire away for the +glory of Old England." + +"Then you are a German?" said I, in German to the foreigner. + +"That will do," said the jockey, "keep it up." + +"A German!" said the tall foreigner. "No, I thank God that I do not +belong to the stupid sluggish Germanic race, but to a braver, taller, and +handsomer people;" here taking the pipe out of his mouth, he stood up +proudly erect, so that his head nearly touched the ceiling of the room, +then reseating himself, and again putting the syphon to his lips, he +added, "I am a Magyar." + +"What is that?" said I. + +The foreigner looked at me for a moment, somewhat contemptuously, through +the smoke, then said, in a voice of thunder, "A Hungarian!" + +"What a voice the chap has when he pleases!" interposed the jockey; "what +is he saying?" + +"Merely that he is a Hungarian," said I; but I added, "the conversation +of this gentleman and myself in a language which you can't understand +must be very tedious to you, we had better give it up." + +"Keep on with it," said the jockey, "I shall go on listening very +contentedly till I fall asleep, no bad thing to do at most times." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + + +The Hungarian. + +"Then you are a countryman of Tekeli, and of the queen who made the +celebrated water," said I, speaking to the Hungarian in German, which I +was able to do tolerably well, owing to my having translated the +Publisher's philosophy into that language, always provided I did not +attempt to say much at a time. + +_Hungarian_. Ah! you have heard of Tekeli, and of L'eau de la Reine +d'Hongrie. How is that? + +_Myself_. I have seen a play acted, founded on the exploits of Tekeli, +and have read Pigault Le Brun's beautiful romance, entitled the "Barons +of Felsheim," in which he is mentioned. As for the water, I have heard a +lady, the wife of a master of mine, speak of it. + +_Hungarian_. Was she handsome? + +_Myself_. Very. + +_Hungarian_. Did she possess the water? + +_Myself_. I should say not; for I have heard her express a great +curiosity about it. + +_Hungarian_. Was she growing old? + +_Myself_. Of course not; but why do you put all these questions? + +_Hungarian_. Because the water is said to make people handsome, and +above all, to restore to the aged the beauty of their youth. Well! +Tekeli was my countryman, and I have the honour of having some of the +blood of the Tekelis in my veins, but with respect to the queen, pardon +me if I tell you that she was not an Hungarian; she was a Pole--Ersebet +by name, daughter of Wladislaus Locticus King of Poland; she was the +fourth spouse of Caroly the Second, King of the Magyar country, who +married her in 1320. She was a great woman and celebrated politician, +though at present chiefly known by her water. + +_Myself_. How came she to invent it? + +_Hungarian_. If her own account may be believed, she did not invent it. +After her death, as I have read in Florentius of Buda, there was found a +statement of the manner in which she came by it, written in her own hand, +on a fly-leaf of her breviary, to the following effect:--Being afflicted +with a grievous disorder at the age of seventy-two, she received the +medicine which was called her water, from an old hermit whom she never +saw before or afterwards; it not only cured her, but restored to her all +her former beauty, so that the King of Poland fell in love with her, and +made her an offer of marriage, which she refused for the glory of God, +from whose holy angel she believed she had received the water. The +receipt for making it and directions for using it, were also found on the +fly-leaf. The principal component parts were burnt wine and rosemary, +passed through an alembic; a drachm of it was to be taken once a week, +"etelbenn vagy italbann," in the food or the drink, early in the morning, +and the cheeks were to be moistened with it every day. The effects +according to the statement, were wonderful--and perhaps they were upon +the queen; but whether the water has been equally efficacious on other +people, is a point which I cannot determine. I should wish to see some +old woman who has been restored to youthful beauty by the use of L'eau de +la Reine d'Hongrie. + +_Myself_. Perhaps, if you did, the old gentlewoman would hardly be so +ingenuous as the queen. But who are the Hungarians--descendants of +Attila and his people? + +The Hungarian shook his head, and gave me to understand that he did not +believe that his nation were the descendants of Attila and his people, +though he acknowledged that they were probably of the same race. Attila +and his armies, he said, came and disappeared in a very mysterious +manner, and that nothing could be said with positiveness about them; that +the people now known as Magyars first made their appearance in Muscovy in +the year 884, under the leadership of Almus, called so from Alom, which, +in the Hungarian language, signifies a dream; his mother, before his +birth, having dreamt that the child with which she was enceinte would be +the father of a long succession of kings, which, in fact, was the case; +that after beating the Russians he entered Hungary, and coming to a place +called Ungvar, from which many people believed that modern Hungary +derived its name, he captured it, and held in it a grand festival, which +lasted four days, at the end of which time he resigned the leadership of +the Magyars to his son Arpad. This Arpad and his Magyars utterly subdued +Pannonia--that is, Hungary and Transylvania, wresting the government of +it from the Sclavonian tribes who inhabited it, and settling down amongst +them as conquerors! After giving me this information, the Hungarian +exclaimed with much animation,--"A goodly country that which they had +entered on, consisting of a plain surrounded by mountains, some of which +intersect it here and there, with noble rapid rivers, the grandest of +which is the mighty Dunau; a country with tiny volcanoes, casting up +puffs of smoke and steam, and from which hot springs arise, good for the +sick; with many fountains, some of which are so pleasant to the taste as +to be preferred to wine; with a generous soil which, warmed by a +beautiful sun, is able to produce corn, grapes, and even the Indian weed; +in fact, one of the finest countries in the world, which even a Spaniard +would pronounce to be nearly equal to Spain. Here they +rested--meditating, however, fresh conquests. Oh, the Magyars soon +showed themselves a mighty people. Besides Hungary and Transylvania, +they subdued Bulgaria and Bosnia, and the land of Tot, now called +Sclavonia. The generals of Zoltan, the son of Arpad, led troops of +horsemen to the banks of the Rhine. One of them, at the head of a host, +besieged Constantinople. It was then that Botond engaged in combat with +a Greek of gigantic stature, who came out of the city and challenged the +two best men in the Magyar army. 'I am the feeblest of the Magyars,' +said Botond, 'but I will kill thee;' and he performed his word, having +previously given a proof of the feebleness of his arm by striking his +battle-axe through the brazen gate, making a hole so big that a child of +five years old could walk through it." + +_Myself_. Of what religion were the old Hungarians? + +_Hungarian_. They had some idea of a Supreme Being, whom they called +Isten, which word is still used by the Magyars for God; but their chief +devotion was directed to sorcerers and soothsayers, something like the +Schamans of the Siberian steppes. They were converted to Christianity +chiefly through the instrumentality of Istvan or Stephen, called after +his death St. Istvan, who ascended the throne in the year one thousand. +He was born in heathenesse, and his original name was Vojk: he was the +first kiraly, or king of the Magyars. Their former leaders had been +called fejedelmek, or dukes. The Magyar language has properly no term +either for king or house. Kiraly is a word derived from the Sclaves; +haz, or house, from the Germans, who first taught them to build houses, +their original dwellings having been tilted waggons. + +_Myself_. Many thanks for your account of the great men of your country. + +_Hungarian_. The great men of my country! I have only told you of the-- +Well, I acknowledge that Almus and Arpad were great men, but Hungary has +produced many greater; I will not trouble you by recapitulating all, but +there is one name I cannot forbear mentioning--but you have heard of +it--even at Horncastle, the name of Hunyadi must be familiar. + +_Myself_. It may be so, though I rather doubt it; but, however that may +be, I confess my ignorance. I have never, until this moment, heard the +name of Hunyadi. + +_Hungarian_. Not of Hunyadi Janos, not of Hunyadi John--for the genius +of our language compels us to put a man's Christian name after his other; +perhaps you have heard of the name of Corvinus? + +_Myself_. Yes, I have heard the name of Corvinus. + +_Hungarian_. By my God, I am glad of it; I thought our hammer of +destruction, our thunderbolt, whom the Greeks called Achilles, must be +known to the people of Horncastle. Well, Hunyadi and Corvinus are the +same. + +_Myself_. Corvinus means the man of the crow, or raven. I suppose that +your John, when a boy, climbed up to a crow or a raven's nest, and stole +the young; a bold feat, well befitting a young hero. + +_Hungarian_. By Isten, you are an acute guesser; a robbery there was, +but it was not Hunyadi who robbed the raven, but the raven who robbed +Hunyadi. + +_Myself_. How was that? + +_Hungarian_. In this manner: Hunyadi, according to tradition, was the +son of King Sigmond, by a peasant's daughter. The king saw and fell in +love with her, whilst marching against the vaivode of Wallachia. He had +some difficulty in persuading her to consent to his wishes, and she only +yielded at last, on the king making her a solemn promise that, in the +event of her becoming with child by him, he would handsomely provide for +her and the infant. The king proceeded on his expedition; and on his +returning in triumph from Wallachia, again saw the girl, who informed him +that she was enceinte by him; the king was delighted with the +intelligence, gave the girl money, and at the same time a ring, +requesting her, if she brought forth a son, to bring the ring to Buda +with the child, and present it to him. When her time was up, the +peasant's daughter brought forth a fair son, who was baptized by the name +of John. After some time the young woman communicated the whole affair +to her elder brother, whose name was Gaspar, and begged him to convey her +and the child to the king at Buda. The brother consented, and both set +out, taking the child with them. On their way, the woman, wanting to +wash her clothes, laid the child down, giving it the king's ring to play +with. A raven, who saw the glittering ring, came flying, and plucking it +out of the child's hand, carried it up into a tree; the child suddenly +began to cry, and the mother, hearing it, left her washing, and running +to the child, forthwith missed the ring, but hearing the raven croak in +the tree, she lifted up her eyes, and saw it with the ring in its beak. +The woman, in great terror, called her brother, and told him what had +happened, adding that she durst not approach the king if the raven took +away the ring. Gaspar, seizing his cross-bow and quiver, ran to the +tree, where the raven was yet with the ring, and discharged an arrow at +it, but, being in a great hurry, he missed it; with his second shot he +was more lucky, for he hit the raven in the breast, which, together with +the ring, fell to the ground. Taking up the ring, they went on their +way, and shortly arrived at Buda. One day, as the king was walking after +dinner in his outer hall, the woman appeared before him with the child, +and, showing him the ring, said, "Mighty lord! behold this token! and +take pity upon me and your own son." King Sigmond took the child and +kissed it, and, after a pause, said to the mother, "You have done right +in bringing me the boy; I will take care of you, and make him a +nobleman." The king was as good as his word, he provided for the mother; +caused the boy to be instructed in knightly exercises, and made him a +present of the town of Hunyad, in Transylvania, on which account he was +afterwards called Hunyadi, and gave him, as an armorial sign, a raven +bearing a ring in his beak. + +Such, oh young man of Horncastle! is the popular account of the birth of +the great captain of Hungary, as related by Florentius of Buda. There +are other accounts of his birth, which is, indeed, involved in much +mystery, and of the reason of his being called Corvinus, but as this is +the most pleasing, and is, upon the whole, founded on quite as good +evidence as the others, I have selected it for recitation. + +_Myself_. I heartily thank you; but you must tell me something more of +Hunyadi. You call him your great captain; what did he do? + +_Hungarian_. Do! what no other man of his day could have done. He broke +the power of the Turk when he was coming to overwhelm Europe. From the +blows inflicted by Hunyadi, the Turk never thoroughly recovered; he has +been frequently worsted in latter times, but none but Hunyadi could have +routed the armies of Amurath and Mahomed the Second. + +_Myself_. How was it that he had an opportunity of displaying his +military genius? + +_Hungarian_. I can hardly tell you, but his valour soon made him famous; +King Albert made him Ban of Szorenyi. He became eventually waivode of +Transylvania, and governor of Hungary. His first grand action was the +defeat of Bashaw Isack; and though himself surprised and routed at St. +Imre, he speedily regained his prestige by defeating the Turks, with +enormous slaughter, killing their leader, Mezerbeg; and subsequently, at +the battle of the Iron Gates, he destroyed ninety thousand Turks, sent by +Amurath to avenge the late disgrace. It was then that the Greeks called +him Achilles. + +_Myself_. He was not always successful. + +_Hungarian_. Who could be always successful against the early Turk? He +was defeated in the battle in which King Vladislaus lost his life, but +his victories outnumbered his defeats three-fold. His grandest +victory--perhaps the grandest ever achieved by man--was over the terrible +Mahomed the Second; who, after the taking of Constantinople in 1453, +said, "One God in Heaven--one king on earth;" and marched to besiege +Belgrade at the head of one hundred, and fifty thousand men; swearing by +the beard of the prophet, "That he would sup within it ere two months +were elapsed." He brought with him dogs, to eat the bodies of the +Christians whom he should take or slay; so says Florentius; hear what he +also says: The Turk sat down before the town towards the end of June, +1454, covering the Dunau and Szava with ships: and on the 4th of July he +began to cannonade Belgrade with cannons twenty-five feet long, whose +roar could be heard at Szeged, a distance of twenty-four leagues, at +which place Hunyadi had assembled his forces. Hunyadi had been able to +raise only fifteen thousand of well-armed and disciplined men, though he +had with him vast bands of people, who called themselves Soldiers of the +Cross, but who consisted of inexperienced lads from school, peasants, and +hermits, armed with swords, slings, and clubs. Hunyadi, undismayed by +the great disparity between his forces and those of the Turk, advanced to +relieve Belgrade, and encamped at Szalankemen with his army. There he +saw at once, that his first step must be to attack the flotilla; he +therefore privately informed Szilagy, his wife's brother, who at that +time defended Belgrade, that it was his intention to attack the ships of +the Turks on the 14th day of July in front, and requested his +co-operation in the rear. On the 14th came on the commencement of the +great battle of Belgrade, between Hunyadi and the Turk. Many days it +lasted. + +_Myself_. Describe it. + +_Hungarian_. I cannot. One has described it well--Florentius of Buda. I +can only repeat a few of his words:--"On the appointed day, Hunyadi, with +two hundred vessels, attacked the Turkish flotilla in front, whilst +Szilagy, with forty vessels, filled with the men of Belgrade, assailed it +in the rear; striving for the same object, they sunk many of the Turkish +vessels, captured seventy-four, burnt many, and utterly annihilated the +whole fleet. After this victory, Hunyadi, with his army, entered +Belgrade, to the great joy of the Magyars. But though the force of +Mahomed upon the water was destroyed, that upon the land remained entire; +and with this, during six days and nights, he attacked the city without +intermission, destroying its walls in many parts. His last and most +desperate assault was made on the 21st day of July. Twice did the Turks +gain possession of the outer town, and twice was it retaken with +indescribable slaughter. The next day the combat raged without ceasing +till mid-day, when the Turks were again beaten out of the town, and +pursued by the Magyars to their camp. There the combat was renewed, both +sides displaying the greatest obstinacy, until Mahomed received a great +wound over his left eye. The Turks then, turning their faces, fled, +leaving behind them three hundred cannon in the hands of the Christians, +and more than twenty-four thousand slain on the field of battle." + +_Myself_. After that battle, I suppose Hunyadi enjoyed his triumphs in +peace? + +_Hungarian_. In the deepest, for he shortly died. His great soul +quitted his body, which was exhausted by almost superhuman exertions, on +the 11th of August, 1456. Shortly before he died, according to +Florentius, a comet appeared, sent, as it would seem, to announce his +coming end. The whole Christian world mourned his loss. The Pope +ordered the cardinals to perform a funeral ceremony at Rome in his +honour. His great enemy himself grieved for him, and pronounced his +finest eulogium. When Mahomed the Second heard of his death, he struck +his head for some time against the ground without speaking. Suddenly he +broke silence with these words, "Notwithstanding he was my enemy, yet do +I bewail his loss; since the sun has shone in heaven, no Prince had ever +yet such a man." + +_Myself_. What was the name of his Prince? + +_Hungarian_. Laszlo the Fifth; who, though under infinite obligations to +Hunyadi, was anything but grateful to him; for he once consented to a +plan which was laid to assassinate him, contrived by his mortal enemy +Ulrik, Count of Cilejia; and after Hunyadi's death, caused his eldest +son, Hunyadi Laszlo, to be executed on a false accusation, and imprisoned +his younger son, Matyas, who, on the death of Laszlo, was elected by the +Magyars to be their king, on the 24th of January, 1458. + +_Myself_. Was this Matyas a good king? + +_Hungarian_. Was Matyas Corvinus a good king? O young man of +Horncastle! he was the best and greatest that ever Hungary possessed, +and, after his father, the most renowned warrior,--some of our best laws +were framed by him. It was he who organized the Hussar force, and it was +he who took Vienna. Why does your Government always send fools to +represent it at Vienna? + +_Myself_. I really cannot say; but with respect to the Hussar force, is +it of Hungarian origin? + +_Hungarian_. Its name shows its origin. Huz, in Hungarian, is twenty +and the Hussar force is so called because it is formed of twentieths. A +law was issued by which it was ordered that every Hungarian nobleman, out +of every twenty dependents, should produce a well-equipped horseman, and +with him proceed to the field of battle. + +_Myself_. Why did Matyas capture Venna? + +_Hungarian_. Because the Emperor Frederick took part against him with +the King of Poland, who claimed the kingdom of Hungary for his son, and +had also assisted the Turk. He captured it in the year 1487, but did not +survive his triumph long, expiring there in the year 1490. He was so +veracious a man, that it was said of him, after his death, "Truth died +with Matyas." It might be added that the glory of Hungary departed with +him. I wish to say nothing more connected with Hungarian history. + +_Myself_. Another word. Did Matyas leave a son? + +_Hungarian_. A natural son, Hunyadi John, called so after the great man. +He would have been universally acknowledged as King of Hungary but for +the illegitimacy of his birth. As it was, Ulaszlo, the son of the King +of Poland, afterwards called Ulaszlo the Second, who claimed Hungary as +being descended from Albert, was nominated king by a great majority of +the Magyar electors. Hunyadi John for some time disputed the throne with +him; there was some bloodshed, but Hunyadi John eventually submitted, and +became the faithful captain of Ulaszlo, notwithstanding that the Turk +offered to assist him with an army of two hundred thousand men. + +_Myself_. Go on. + +_Hungarian_. To what? Tche Drak, to the Mohacs Veszedelem. Ulaszlo +left a son, Lajos the Second, born without skin, as it is said, certainly +without a head. He, contrary to the advice of all his wise +counsellors,--and amongst them was Batory Stephen, who became eventually +King of Poland--engaged, with twenty-five thousand men, at Mohacs, +Soliman the Turk, who had an army of two hundred thousand. Drak! the +Magyars were annihilated, King Lajos disappeared with his heavy horse and +armour in a bog. We call that battle, which was fought on the 29th of +August, 1526, the destruction of Mohacs, but it was the destruction of +Hungary. + +_Myself_. You have twice used the word drak, what is the meaning of it? +Is it Hungarian? + +_Hungarian_. No! it belongs to the mad Wallacks. They are a nation of +madmen on the other side of Transylvania. Their country was formerly a +fief of Hungary, like Moldavia, which is inhabited by the same race, who +speak the same language and are equally mad. + +_Myself_. What language do they speak? + +_Hungarian_. A strange mixture of Latin and Sclavonian--they themselves +being a mixed race of Romans and Sclavonians. Trajan sent certain +legions to form military colonies in Dacia; and the present Wallacks and +Moldavians are, to a certain extent, the descendants of the Roman +soldiers, who married the women of the country. I say to a certain +extent, for the Sclavonian element both in blood and language seems to +prevail. + +_Myself_. And what is drak? + +_Hungarian_. Dragon; which the Wallacks use for "devil." The term is +curious, as it shows that the old Romans looked upon the dragon as an +infernal being. + +_Myself_. You have been in Wallachia? + +_Hungarian_. I have, and glad I was to get out of it. I hate the mad +Wallacks. + +_Myself_. Why do you call them mad? + +_Hungarian_. They are always drinking or talking. I never saw a +Wallachian eating or silent. They talk like madmen, and drink like +madmen. In drinking they use small phials, the contents of which they +pour down their throats. When I first went amongst them I thought the +whole nation was under a course of physic, but the terrible jabber of +their tongues soon undeceived me. Drak was the first word I heard on +entering Dacia, and the last when I left it. The Moldaves, if possible, +drink more, and talk more than the Wallachians. + +_Myself_. It is singular enough that the only Moldavian I have known +could not speak. I suppose he was born dumb. + +_Hungarian_. A Moldavian born dumb! Excuse me, the thing is +impossible,--all Moldavians are born talking! I have known a Moldavian +who could not speak, but he was not born dumb. His master, an Armenian, +snipped off part of his tongue at Adrianople. He drove him mad with his +jabber. He is now in London, where his master has a house. I have +letters of credit on the house: the clerk paid me money in London, the +master was absent; the money which you received for the horse belonged to +that house. + +_Myself_. Another word with respect to Hungarian history. + +_Hungarian_. Drak! I wish to say nothing more about Hungarian history. + +_Myself_. The Turk, I suppose, after Mohacs, got possession of Hungary? + +_Hungarian_. Not exactly. The Turk, upon the whole, showed great +moderation; not so the Austrian. Ferdinand the First claimed the crown +of Hungary as being the cousin of Maria, widow of Lajos; he found too +many disposed to support him. His claim, however, was resisted by +Zapolya John, a Hungarian magnate, who caused himself to be elected king. +Hungary was for a long time devastated by wars between the partisans of +Zapolya and Ferdinand. At last Zapolya called in the Turk. Soliman +behaved generously to him, and after his death befriended his young son, +and Isabella his queen; eventually the Turks became masters of +Transylvania and the greater part of Hungary. They were not bad masters, +and had many friends in Hungary, especially amongst those of the reformed +faith, to which I have myself the honour of belonging; those of the +reformed faith found the Mufti more tolerant than the Pope. Many +Hungarians went with the Turks to the siege of Vienna, whilst Tekeli and +his horsemen guarded Hungary for them. A gallant enterprise that siege +of Vienna, the last great effort of the Turk; it failed, and he speedily +lost Hungary, but he did not sneak from Hungary like a frightened hound. +His defence of Buda will not be soon forgotten, where Apty Basha, the +governor, died fighting like a lion in the breach. There's many a +Hungarian would prefer Stamboul to Vienna. Why does your Government +always send fools to represent it at Vienna? + +_Myself_. I have already told you that I cannot say. What became of +Tekeli? + +_Hungarian_. When Hungary was lost he retired with the Turks into +Turkey. Count Renoncourt, in his Memoirs, mentions having seen him at +Adrianople. The Sultan, in consideration of the services which he had +rendered to the Moslem in Hungary, made over the revenues of certain +towns and districts for his subsistence. The count says that he always +went armed to the teeth, and was always attended by a young female +dressed in male attire, who had followed him in his wars, and had more +than once saved his life. His end is wrapped in mystery, I--whose +greatest boast, next to being a Hungarian, is to be of his blood--know +nothing of his end. + +_Myself_. Allow me to ask who you are? + +_Hungarian_. Egy szegeny Magyar Nemes ember, a poor Hungarian nobleman, +son of one yet poorer. I was born in Transylvania, not far to the west +of good Coloscvar. I served some time in the Austrian army as a noble +Hussar, but am now equerry to a great nobleman, to whom I am distantly +related. In his service I have travelled far and wide, buying horses. I +have been in Russia and in Turkey, and am now at Horncastle, where I have +had the satisfaction to meet with you, and to buy your horse, which is, +in truth, a noble brute. + +_Myself_. For a soldier and equerry you seem to know a great deal of the +history of your country. + +_Hungarian_. All I know is derived from Florentius of Buda, whom we call +Budai Ferentz. He was professor of Greek and Latin at the Reformed +College of Debreczen, where I was educated; he wrote a work entitled +"Magyar Polgari Lexicon," Lives of Great Hungarian Citizens. He was dead +before I was born, but I found his book, when I was a child, in the +solitary home of my father, which stood on the confines of a puszta, or +wilderness, and that book I used to devour in winter nights when the +winds were whistling around the house. Oh! how my blood used to glow at +the descriptions of Magyar valour, and likewise of Turkish; for +Florentius has always done justice to the Turk. Many a passage similar +to this have I got by heart; it is connected with a battle on the plain +of Rigo, which Hunyadi lost:--"The next day, which was Friday, as the two +armies were drawn up in battle array, a Magyar hero riding forth, +galloped up and down, challenging the Turks to single combat. Then came +out to meet him the son of a renowned bashaw of Asia; rushing upon each +other, both broke their lances, but the Magyar hero and his horse rolled +over upon the ground, for the Turks had always the best horses." O young +man of Horncastle! if ever you learn Hungarian--and learn it assuredly +you will after what I have told you--read the book of Florentius of Buda, +even if you go to Hungary to get it, for you will scarcely find it +elsewhere, and even there with difficulty, for the book has been long out +of print. It describes the actions of the great men of Hungary down to +the middle of the sixteenth century; and besides being written in the +purest Hungarian, has the merit of having for its author a professor of +the Reformed College of Debreczen. + +_Myself_. I will go to Hungary rather than not read it. I am glad that +the Turk beat the Magyar. When I used to read the ballads of Spain I +always sided with the Moor against the Christian. + +_Hungarian_. It was a drawn fight after all, for the terrible horse of +the Turk presently flung his own master, whereupon the two champions +returned to their respective armies; but in the grand conflict which +ensued, the Turks beat the Magyars, pursuing them till night, and +striking them on the necks with their scymetars. The Turk is a noble +fellow; I should wish to be a Turk, were I not a Magyar. + +_Myself_. The Turk always keeps his word, I am told. + +_Hungarian_. Which the Christian very seldom does, and even the +Hungarian does not always. In 1444 Ulaszlo made, at Szeged, peace with +Amurath for ten years, which he swore with an oath to keep, but at the +instigation of the Pope Julian he broke it, and induced his great +captain, Hunyadi John, to share in the perjury. The consequence was the +battle of Varna, of the 10th of November, in which Hunyadi was routed, +and Ulaszlo slain. Did you ever hear his epitaph? it is both solemn and +edifying:-- + + Romulidae Cannas ego Varnam clade notavi; + Discite mortales non temerare fidem: + Me nisi Pontifices jussissent rumpere foedus + Non ferret Scythicum Pannonis ora jugum." + +"Halloo!" said the jockey, starting up from a doze in which he had been +indulging for the last hour, his head leaning upon his breast, "what is +that? That's not high Dutch; I bargained for high Dutch, and I left you +speaking high Dutch, as it sounded very much like the language of horses, +as I have been told high Dutch does; but as for what you are speaking +now, whatever you may call it, it sounds more like the language of +another kind of animal. I suppose you want to insult me, because I was +once a dicky-boy." + +"Nothing of the kind," said I; "the gentleman was making a quotation in +Latin." + +"Latin, was it?" said the jockey; "that alters the case. Latin is +genteel, and I have sent my eldest boy to an academy to learn it. Come, +let us hear you fire away in Latin," he continued, proceeding to re-light +his pipe, which, before going to sleep, he had laid on the table. + +"If you wish to follow the discourse in Latin," said the Hungarian, in +very bad English, "I can oblige you; I learned to speak very good Latin +in the college of Debreczen." + +"That's more," said I, "than I have done in the colleges where I have +been; in any little conversation which we may yet have, I wish you would +use German." + +"Well," said the jockey, taking a whiff, "make your conversation as short +as possible, whether in Latin or Dutch, for, to tell you the truth, I am +rather tired of merely playing listener." + +"You were saying you had been in Russia," said I; "I believe the Russians +are part of the Sclavonian race." + +_Hungarian_. Yes, part of the great Sclavonian family; one of the most +numerous races in the world. The Russians themselves are very numerous; +would that the Magyars could boast of the fifth part of their number! + +_Myself_. What is the number of the Magyars? + +_Hungarian_. Barely four millions. We came a tribe of Tartars into +Europe, and settled down amongst Sclavonians, whom we conquered, but who +never coalesced with us. The Austrian at present plays in Pannonia the +Sclavonian against us, and us against the Sclavonian; but the downfall of +the Austrian is at hand; they, like us, are not a numerous people. + +_Myself_. Who will bring about his downfall? + +_Hungarian_. The Russians. The Rysckie Tsar will lead his people forth, +all the Sclavonians will join him, he will conquer all before him. + +_Myself_. Are the Russians good soldiers? + +_Hungarian_. They are stubborn and unflinching to an astonishing degree, +and their fidelity to their Tsar is quite admirable. See how the +Russians behaved at Plescova, in Livonia, in the old time, against our +great Batory Stephen; they defended the place till it was a heap of +rubbish, and mark how they behaved after they had been made prisoners. +Stephen offered them two alternatives:--to enter into his service, in +which they would have good pay, clothing, and fair treatment; or to be +allowed to return to Russia. Without the slightest hesitation they, to a +man, chose the latter, though well aware that their beloved Tsar, the +cruel Ivan Basilowits, would put them all to death, amidst tortures the +most horrible, for not doing what was impossible--preserving the town. + +_Myself_. You speak Russian? + +_Hungarian_. A little. I was born in the vicinity of a Sclavonian +tribe; the servants of our house were Sclavonians, and I early acquired +something of their language, which differs not much from that of Russia; +when in that country I quickly understood what was said. + +_Myself_. Have the Russians any literature? + +_Hungarian_. Doubtless; but I am not acquainted with it, as I do not +read their language; but I know something of their popular tales, to +which I used to listen in their izbushkas; a principal personage in these +is a creation quite original--called Baba Yaga. + +_Myself_. Who is the Baba Yaga? + +_Hungarian_. A female phantom, who is described as hurrying along the +puszta, or steppe, in a mortar, pounding with a pestle at a tremendous +rate, and leaving a long trace on the ground behind her with her tongue, +which is three yards long, and with which she seizes any men and horses +coming in her way, swallowing them down into her capacious belly. She +has several daughters, very handsome, and with plenty of money; happy the +young Mujik who catches and marries one of them, for they make excellent +wives. + +"Many thanks," said I, "for the information you have afforded me: this is +rather poor wine," I observed, as I poured out a glass--"I suppose you +have better wine in Hungary?" + +"Yes, we have better wine in Hungary. First of all there is Tokay, the +most celebrated in the world, though I confess I prefer the wine of +Eger--Tokay is too sweet." + +"Have you ever been at Tokay?" + +"I have," said the Hungarian. + +"What kind of place is Tokay?" + +"A small town situated on the Tyzza, a rapid river descending from the +north; the Tokay Mountain is just behind the town, which stands on the +right bank. The top of the mountain is called Kopacs Teto, or the bald +tip; the hill is so steep that during thunder-storms pieces frequently +fall down upon the roofs of the houses. It was planted with vines by +King Lajos, who ascended the throne in 1342. The best wine called Tokay +is, however, not made at Tokay, but at Kassau, two leagues farther into +the Carpathians, of which Tokay is a spur. If you wish to drink the best +Tokay, you must go to Vienna, to which place all the prime is sent. For +the third time I ask you, O young man of Horncastle! why does your +Government always send fools to represent it at Vienna?" + +"And for the third time I tell you, O son of Almus! that I cannot say; +perhaps, however, to drink the sweet Tokay wine; fools, you know, always +like sweet things." + +"Good," said the Hungarian; "it must be so, and when I return to Hungary, +I will state to my countrymen your explanation of a circumstance which +has frequently caused them great perplexity. Oh! the English are a +clever people, and have a deep meaning in all they do. What a vision of +deep policy opens itself to my view! they do not send their fool to +Vienna in order to gape at processions, and to bow and scrape at a base +Papist court, but to drink at the great dinners the celebrated Tokay of +Hungary, which the Hungarians, though they do not drink it, are very +proud of, and by doing so to intimate the sympathy which the English +entertain for their fellow religionists of Hungary. Oh! the English are +a deep people." + + + + +CHAPTER XL + + +The Horncastle Welcome--Tzernebock and Bielebock. + +The pipe of the Hungarian had, for some time past, exhibited considerable +symptoms of exhaustion, little or no ruttling having been heard in the +tube, and scarcely a particle of smoke, drawn through the syphon, having +been emitted from the lips of the possessor. He now rose from his seat, +and going to a corner of the room, placed his pipe against the wall, then +striding up and down the room, he cracked his fingers several times, +exclaiming, in a half-musing manner, "Oh, the deep nation, which, in +order to display its sympathy for Hungary, sends its fool to Vienna, to +drink the sweet wine of Tokay!" + +The jockey, having looked for some time at the tall figure with evident +approbation, winked at me with that brilliant eye of his on which there +was no speck, saying, "'Did you ever see a taller fellow?" + +"Never," said I. + +"Or a finer?" + +"That's another question," said I, "which I am not so willing to answer; +however, as I am fond of truth, and scorn to flatter, I will take the +liberty of saying that I have seen a finer." + +"A finer! where?" said the jockey; whilst the Hungarian, who appeared to +understand what we said, stood still, and looked full at me. + +"Amongst a strange set of people," said I, "whom, if I were to name, you +would, I dare say, only laugh at me." + +"Who be they?" said the jockey. "Come, don't be ashamed; I have +occasionally kept queerish company myself." + +"The people whom we call gypsies," said I; "whom the Germans call +Zigeuner, and who call themselves Romany chals." + +"Zigeuner!" said the Hungarian; "by Isten! I do know those people." + +"Romany chals!" said the jockey; "whew! I begin to smell a rat." + +"What do you mean by smelling a rat?" said I. + +"I'll bet a crown," said the jockey, "that you be the young chap what +certain folks call 'the Romany Rye.'" + +"Ah!" said I, "how came you to know that name?" + +"Be not you he?" said the jockey. + +"Why, I certainly have been called by that name." + +"I could have sworn it," said the jockey; then rising from his chair, he +laid his pipe on the table, took a large hand-bell which stood on the +side-board, and going to the door, opened it, and commenced ringing in a +most tremendous manner on the staircase. The noise presently brought up +a waiter, to whom the jockey vociferated, "Go to your master, and tell +him to send immediately three bottles of champagne, of the pink kind, +mind you, which is twelve guineas a dozen;" the waiter hurried away, and +the jockey resumed his seat and his pipe. I sat in silent astonishment +until the waiter returned with a basket containing the wine, which, with +three long glasses, he placed on the table. The jockey then got up, and +going to a large bow-window at the end of the room, which looked into a +court-yard, peeped out; then saying, "the coast is clear," he shut down +the principal sash which was open for the sake of the air, and taking up +a bottle of champagne, he placed another in the hands of the Hungarian, +to whom he said something in private. The latter, who seemed to +understand him, answered by a nod. The two then going to the end of the +table fronting the window, and about eight paces from it, stood before +it, holding the bottles by their necks; suddenly the jockey lifted up his +arm. "Surely," said I, "you are not mad enough to fling that bottle +through the window?" "Here's to the Romany Rye; here's to the sweet +master," said the jockey, dashing the bottle through the pane in so neat +a manner that scarcely a particle of glass fell into the room. + +"Eljen edes csigany ur--eljen gul eray!" said the Hungarian, swinging +round his bottle, and discharging it at the window; but, either not +possessing the jockey's accuracy of aim, or reckless of the consequences, +he flung his bottle so, that it struck against part of the wooden setting +of the panes, breaking along with the wood and itself three or four panes +to pieces. The crash was horrid, and wine and particles of glass flew +back into the room, to the no small danger of its inmates. "What do you +think of that?" said the jockey; "were you ever so honoured before?" +"Honoured!" said I. "God preserve me in future from such honour;" and I +put my finger to my cheek, which was slightly hurt by a particle of the +glass. "That's the way we of the cofrady honour great men at +Horncastle," said the jockey. "What, you are hurt! never mind; all the +better; your scratch shows that you are the body the compliment was paid +to." "And what are you going to do with the other bottle?" said I. "Do +with it!" said the jockey, "why, drink it, cosily and comfortably, whilst +holding a little quiet talk. The Romany Rye at Horncastle, what an +idea!" + +"And what will the master of the house say to all this damage which you +have caused him!" + +"What will your master say, William?" said the jockey to the waiter, who +had witnessed the singular scene just described without exhibiting the +slightest mark of surprise. William smiled, and slightly shrugging his +shoulders, replied, "Very little, I dare say, sir; this a'n't the first +time your honour has done a thing of this kind." "Nor will it be the +first time that I shall have paid for it," said the jockey; "well, I +shall never have paid for a certain item in the bill with more pleasure +than I shall pay for it now. Come, William, draw the cork, and let us +taste the pink champagne." + +The waiter drew the cork, and filled the glasses with a pinky liquor, +which bubbled, hissed, and foamed. "How do you like it?" said the +jockey, after I had imitated the example of my companions, by despatching +my portion at a draught. + +"It is wonderful wine," said I; "I have never tasted champagne before, +though I have frequently heard it praised; it more than answers my +expectations; but, I confess, I should not wish to be obliged to drink it +every day." + +"Nor I," said the jockey, "for every-day drinking give me a glass of old +port, or--" + +"Of hard old ale," I interposed, "which, according to my mind, is better +than all the wine in the world." + +"Well said, Romany Rye," said the jockey, "just my own opinion; now, +William, make yourself scarce." + +The waiter withdrew, and I said to the jockey, "How did you become +acquainted with the Romany chals?" + +"I first became acquainted with them," said the jockey, "when I lived +with old Fulcher the basketmaker, who took me up when I was adrift upon +the world; I do not mean the present Fulcher, who is likewise called old +Fulcher, but his father, who has been dead this many a year; while living +with him in the caravan, I frequently met them in the green lanes, and of +latter years I have had occasional dealings with them in the horse line." + +"And the gypsies have mentioned me to you?" said I. + +"Frequently," said the jockey, "and not only those of these parts; why, +there's scarcely a part of England in which I have not heard the name of +the Romany Rye mentioned by these people. The power you have over them +is wonderful; that is, I should have thought it wonderful, had they not +more than once told me the cause." + +"And what is the cause?" said I, "for I am sure I do not know." + +"The cause is this," said the jockey, "they never heard a bad word +proceed from your mouth, and never knew you do a bad thing." + +"They are a singular people," said I. + +"And what a singular language they have got," said the jockey. + +"Do you know it?" said I. + +"Only a few words," said the jockey, "they were always chary in teaching +me any." + +"They were vary sherry to me too," said the Hungarian, speaking in broken +English; "I only could learn from them half-a-dozen words, for example, +gul eray, which, in the czigany of my country, means sweet gentleman; or +edes ur in my own Magyar." + +"Gudlo Rye, in the Romany of mine, means a sugar'd gentleman," said I; +"then there are gypsies in your country?" + +"Plenty," said the Hungarian, speaking German, "and in Russia and Turkey +too; and wherever they are found, they are alike in their ways and +language. Oh, they are a strange race, and how little known! I know +little of them, but enough to say, that one horse-load of nonsense has +been written about them; there is one Valter Scott--" + +"Mind what you say about him," said I; "he is our grand authority in +matters of philology and history." + +"A pretty philologist," said the Hungarian, "who makes the gypsies speak +Roth-Welsch, the dialect of thieves; a pretty historian, who couples +together Thor and Tzernebock." + +"Where does he do that?" said I. + +"In his conceited romance of 'Ivanhoe,' he couples Thor and Tzernebock +together, and calls them gods of the heathen Saxons." + +"Well," said I, "Thur or Thor was certainly a god of the heathen Saxons." + +"True," said the Hungarian; "but why couple him with Tzernebock? +Tzernebock was a word which your Valter had picked up somewhere without +knowing the meaning. Tzernebock was no god of the Saxons, but one of the +gods of the Sclaves, on the southern side of the Baltic. The Sclaves had +two grand gods to whom they sacrificed, Tzernebock and Bielebock; that +is, the black and white gods, who represented the powers of dark and +light. They were overturned by Waldemar, the Dane, the great enemy of +the Sclaves; the account of whose wars you will find in one fine old +book, written by Saxo Gramaticus, which I read in the library of the +college of Debreczen. The Sclaves, at one time, were masters of all the +southern shore of the Baltic, where their descendants are still to be +found, though they have lost their language, and call themselves Germans; +but the word Zernevitz near Dantzic, still attests that the Sclavic +language was once common in those parts. Zernevitz means the thing of +blackness, as Tzernebock means the god of blackness. Prussia itself +merely means, in Sclavish, Lower Russia. There is scarcely a race or +language in the world more extended than the Sclavic. On the other side +of the Dunau you will find the Sclaves and their language. Czernavoda is +Sclavic, and means black water; in Turkish, kara su; even as Tzernebock +means black god; and Belgrade, or Belograd, means the white town; even as +Bielebock, or Bielebog, means the white god. Oh! he is one great +ignorant, that Valter. He is going, they say, to write one history about +Napoleon. I do hope that in his history he will couple his Thor and +Tzernebock together. By my God! it would be good diversion that." + +"Walter Scott appears to be no particular favourite of yours," said I. + +"He is not," said the Hungarian; "I hate him for his slavish principles. +He wishes to see absolute power restored in this country, and Popery +also--and I hate him because--what do you think? In one of his novels, +published a few months ago, he has the insolence to insult Hungary in the +presence of one of her sons. He makes his great braggart, Coeur de Lion, +fling a Magyar over his head. Ha! it was well for Richard that he never +felt the gripe of a Hungarian. I wish the braggart could have felt the +gripe of me, who am 'a' magyarok kozt legkissebb,' the least among the +Magyars. I do hate that Scott, and all his vile gang of Lowlanders and +Highlanders. The black corps, the fekete regiment of Matyjas Hunyadi, +was worth all the Scots, high or low, that ever pretended to be soldiers; +and would have sent them all headlong into the Black Sea, had they dared +to confront it on its shores; but why be angry with an ignorant, who +couples together Thor and Tzernebock? Ha! Ha!" + +"You have read his novels?" said I. + +"Yes, I read them now and then. I do not speak much English, but I can +read it well, and I have read some of his romances, and mean to read his +'Napoleon,' in the hope of finding Thor and Tzernebock coupled together +in it, as in his high-flying 'Ivanhoe.'" + +"Come," said the jockey, "no more Dutch, whether high or low. I am tired +of it; unless we can have some English, I am off to bed." + +"I should be very glad to hear some English," said I; "especially from +your mouth. Several things which you have mentioned, have awakened my +curiosity. Suppose you give us your history?" + +"My history?" said the jockey. "A rum idea! however, lest conversation +should lag, I'll give it you. First of all, however, a glass of +champagne to each." + +After we had each taken a glass of champagne, the jockey commenced his +history. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI + + +The Jockey's Tale--Thieves' Latin--Liberties with Coin--The Smasher in +Prison--Old Fulcher--Every One has His Gift--Fashion of the English. + +"My grandfather was a shorter, and my father was a smasher; the one was +scragg'd, and the other lagg'd." + +I here interrupted the jockey by observing that his discourse was, for +the greater part, unintelligible to me. + +"I do not understand much English," said the Hungarian, who, having +replenished and resumed his mighty pipe, was now smoking away; "but, by +Isten, I believe it is the gibberish which that great ignorant Valther +Scott puts into the mouths of the folks he calls gypsies." + +"Something like it, I confess," said I, "though this sounds more genuine +than his dialect, which he picked up out of the canting vocabulary at the +end of the 'English Rogue,' a book which, however despised, was written +by a remarkable genius. What do you call the speech you were using?" +said I, addressing myself to the jockey. + +"Latin," said the jockey, very coolly, "that is, that dialect of it which +is used by the light-fingered gentry." + +"He is right," said the Hungarian; "it is what the Germans call +Roth-Welsch: they call it so because there are a great many Latin words +in it, introduced by the priests, who, at the time of the Reformation, +being too lazy to work and too stupid to preach, joined the bands of +thieves and robbers who prowled about the country. Italy, as you are +aware, is called by the Germans Welschland, or the land of the Welschers; +and I may add that Wallachia derives its name from a colony of Welschers +which Trajan sent there. Welsch and Wallack being one and the same word, +and tantamount to Latin." + +"I dare say you are right," said I; "but why was Italy termed +Welschland?" + +"I do not know," said the Hungarian. + +"Then I think I can tell you," said I; "it was called so because the +original inhabitants were a Cimbric tribe, who were called Gwyltiad, that +is, a race of wild people, living in coverts, who were of the same blood, +and spoke the same language as the present inhabitants of Wales. Welsh +seems merely a modification of Gwyltiad. Pray continue your history," +said I to the jockey, "only please to do so in a language which we can +understand, and first of all interpret the sentence with which you began +it." + +"I told you that my grandfather was a shorter," said the jockey, "by +which is meant a gentleman who shortens or reduces the current coin of +these realms, for which practice he was scragged, that is, hung by the +scrag of the neck. And when I said that my father was a smasher, I meant +one who passes forged notes, thereby doing his best to smash the Bank of +England; by being lagged, I meant he was laid fast, that is, had a chain +put round his leg and then transported." + +"Your explanations are quite satisfactory," said I; "the three first +words are metaphorical, and the fourth, lagged, is the old genuine Norse +term, lagda, which signifies laid, whether in durance, or in bed, has +nothing to do with the matter. What you have told me confirms me in an +opinion which I have long entertained, that thieves' Latin is a strange +mysterious speech, formed of metaphorical terms, and words derived from +the various ancient languages. Pray tell me, now, how the gentleman, +your grandfather, contrived to shorten the coin of these realms?" + +"You shall hear," said the jockey; "but I have one thing to beg of you, +which is, that when I have once begun my history you will not interrupt +me with questions, I don't like them, they stops one, and puts one out of +one's tale, and are not wanted; for anything which I think can't be +understood, I should myself explain, without being asked. My grandfather +reduced or shortened the coin of this country by three processes. By +aquafortis, by clipping, and by filing. Filing and clipping he employed +in reducing all sorts of coin, whether gold or silver; but aquafortis he +used merely in reducing gold coin, whether guineas, jacobuses, or +Portugal pieces, otherwise called moidores, which were at one time as +current as guineas. By laying a guinea in aquafortis for twelve hours, +he could filch from it to the value of ninepence, and by letting it +remain there for twenty-four to the value of eighteenpence, the +aquafortis eating the gold away, and leaving it like a sediment in the +vessel. He was generally satisfied with taking the value of ninepence +from a guinea, of eighteenpence from a jacobus or moidore, or +half-a-crown from a broad Spanish piece, whether he reduced them by +aquafortis, filing, or clipping. From a five-shilling piece, which is +called a bull in Latin because it is round like a bull's head, he would +file or clip to the value of fivepence, and from lesser coin in +proportion. He was connected with a numerous gang, or set, of people, +who had given up their minds and talents entirely to shortening." + +Here I interrupted the jockey. "How singular," said I, "is the fall and +debasement of words; you talk of a gang, or set, of shorters; you are, +perhaps, not aware that gang and set were, a thousand years ago, only +connected with the great and Divine; they are ancient Norse words, which +may be found in the heroic poems of the north, and in the Edda, a +collection of mythologic and heroic songs. In these poems we read that +such and such a king invaded Norway with a gang of heroes; or so and so, +for example, Erik Bloodaxe, was admitted to the set of gods; but at +present gang and set are merely applied to the vilest of the vile, and +the lowest of the low,--we say a gang of thieves and shorters, or a set +of authors. How touching is this debasement of words in the course of +time; it puts me in mind of the decay of old houses and names. I have +known a Mortimer who was a hedger and ditcher, a Berners who was born in +a workhouse, and a descendant of the De Burghs, who bore the falcon, +mending old kettles, and making horse and pony shoes in a dingle." + +"Odd enough," said the jockey; "but you were saying you knew one +Berners--man or woman? I would ask." + +"A woman," said I. + +"What might her Christian name be?" said the jockey. + +"It is not to be mentioned lightly," said I, with a sigh. + +"I shouldn't wonder if it were Isopel," said the jockey with an arch +glance of his one brilliant eye. + +"It was Isopel," said I; "did you know Isopel Berners?" + +"Ay, and have reason to know her," said the jockey, putting his hand into +his left waistcoat pocket, as if to feel for something, "for she gave me +what I believe few men could do--a most confounded whopping. But now, +Mr. Romany Rye, I have again to tell you that I don't like to be +interrupted when I'm speaking, and to add that if you break in upon me a +third time, you and I shall quarrel." + +"Pray proceed with your story," said I; "I will not interrupt you again." + +"Good!" said the jockey. "Where was I? Oh, with a set of people who had +given up their minds to shortening! Reducing the coin, though rather a +lucrative, was a very dangerous trade. Coin filed felt rough to the +touch; coin clipped could be easily detected by the eye; and as for coin +reduced by aquafortis, it was generally so discoloured that, unless a +great deal of pains was used to polish it, people were apt to stare at it +in a strange manner, and to say, 'What have they been doing to this here +gold?' My grandfather, as I have said before, was connected with a gang +of shorters, and sometimes shortened money, and at other times passed off +what had been shortened by other gentry. + +"Passing off what had been shortened by others was his ruin; for once, in +trying to pass off a broad piece which had been laid in aquafortis for +four-and-twenty hours, and was very black, not having been properly +rectified, he was stopped and searched, and other reduced coins being +found about him, and in his lodgings, he was committed to prison, tried, +and executed. He was offered his life, provided he would betray his +comrades; but he told the big-wigs, who wanted him to do so, that he +would see them farther first, and died at Tyburn, amidst the cheers of +the populace, leaving my grandmother and father, to whom he had always +been a kind husband and parent--for, setting aside the crime for which he +suffered, he was a moral man; leaving them, I say, to bewail his +irreparable loss. + +"'Tis said that misfortune never comes alone; this is, however, not +always the case. Shortly after my grandfather's misfortune, as my +grandmother and her son were living in great misery in Spitalfields, her +only relation--a brother from whom she had been estranged some years, on +account of her marriage with my grandfather, who had been in an inferior +station to herself--died, leaving all his property to her and the child. +This property consisted of a farm of about a hundred acres, with its +stock, and some money besides. My grandmother, who knew something of +business, instantly went into the country, where she farmed the property +for her own benefit and that of her son, to whom she gave an education +suitable to a person in his condition, till he was old enough to manage +the farm himself. Shortly after the young man came of age, my +grandmother died, and my father, in about a year, married the daughter of +a farmer, from whom he expected some little fortune, but who very much +deceived him, becoming a bankrupt almost immediately after the marriage +of his daughter, and himself and family going into the workhouse. + +"My mother, however, made my father an excellent wife; and if my father +in the long run did not do well it was no fault of hers. My father was +not a bad man by nature, he was of an easy, generous temper, the most +unfortunate temper, by the bye, for success in this life that any person +can be possessed of, as those who have it are almost sure to be made +dupes of by the designing. But, though easy and generous, he was +anything but a fool; he had a quick and witty tongue of his own when he +chose to exert it, and woe be to those who insulted him openly, for there +was not a better boxer in the whole country round. My parents were +married several years before I came into the world, who was their first +and only child. I may be called an unfortunate creature; I was born with +this beam or scale on my left eye, which does not allow me to see with +it; and though I can see tolerably sharply with the other, indeed more +than most people can with both of theirs, it is a great misfortune not to +have two eyes like other people. Moreover, setting aside the affair of +my eye, I had a very ugly countenance; my mouth being slightly wrung +aside, and my complexion swarthy. In fact, I looked so queer that the +gossips and neighbours, when they first saw me, swore I was a +changeling--perhaps it would have been well if I had never been born; for +my poor father, who had been particularly anxious to have a son, no +sooner saw me than he turned away, went to the neighbouring town, and did +not return for two days. I am by no means certain that I was not the +cause of his ruin, for till I came into the world he was fond of his +home, and attended much to business, but afterwards he went frequently +into company, and did not seem to care much about his affairs: he was, +however, a kind man, and when his wife gave him advice never struck her, +nor do I ever remember that he kicked me when I came in his way, or so +much as cursed my ugly face, though it was easy to see that he didn't +over-like me. When I was six years old I was sent to the village-school, +where I was soon booked for a dunce, because the master found it +impossible to teach me either to read or write. Before I had been at +school two years, however, I had beaten boys four years older than +myself, and could fling a stone with my left hand (for if I am right-eyed +I am left-handed) higher and farther than any one in the parish. +Moreover, no boy could equal me at riding, and no people ride so well or +desperately as boys. I could ride a donkey--a thing far more difficult +to ride than a horse--at full gallop over hedges and ditches, seated, or +rather floating upon his hinder part,--so, though anything but clever, as +this here Romany Rye would say, I was yet able to do things which few +other people could do. By the time I was ten my father's affairs had got +into a very desperate condition, for he had taken to gambling and horse- +racing, and, being unsuccessful, had sold his stock, mortgaged his +estate, and incurred very serious debts. The upshot was, that within a +little time all he had was seized, himself imprisoned, and my mother and +myself put into a cottage belonging to the parish, which, being very cold +and damp, was the cause of her catching a fever, which speedily carried +her off. I was then bound apprentice to a farmer, in whose service I +underwent much coarse treatment, cold, and hunger. + +"After lying in prison near two years, my father was liberated by an Act +for the benefit of insolvent debtors; he was then lost sight of for some +time; at last, however, he made his appearance in the neighbourhood +dressed like a gentleman, and seemingly possessed of plenty of money. He +came to see me, took me into a field, and asked me how I was getting on. +I told him I was dreadfully used, and begged him to take me away with +him; he refused, and told me to be satisfied with my condition, for that +he could do nothing for me. I had a great love for my father, and +likewise a great admiration for him on account of his character as a +boxer, the only character which boys in general regard, so I wished much +to be with him, independently of the dog's life I was leading where I +was; I therefore said if he would not take me with him, I would follow +him; he replied that I must do no such thing, for that if I did, it would +be my ruin. I asked him what he meant, but he made no reply, only saying +that he would go and speak to the farmer. Then taking me with him, he +went to the farmer, and in a very civil manner said that he understood I +had not been very kindly treated by him, but he hoped that in future I +should be used better. The farmer answered in a surly tone, that I had +been only too well treated, for that I was a worthless young scoundrel; +high words ensued, and the farmer, forgetting the kind of man he had to +deal with, checked him with my grandsire's misfortune, and said he +deserved to be hanged like his father. In a moment my father knocked him +down, and on his getting up, gave him a terrible beating, then taking me +by the hand he hastened away; as we were going down a lane he said we +were now both done for: 'I don't care a straw for that, father,' said I, +'provided I be with you.' My father took me to the neighbouring town, +and going into the yard of a small inn, he ordered out a pony and light +cart which belonged to him, then paying his bill, he told me to mount +upon the seat, and getting up drove away like lightning; we drove for at +least six hours without stopping, till we came to a cottage by the side +of a heath; we put the pony and cart into a shed, and went into the +cottage, my father unlocking the door with a key which he took out of his +pocket; there was nobody in the cottage when we arrived, but shortly +after there came a man and a woman, and then some more people, and by ten +o'clock at night there were a dozen of us in the cottage. The people +were companions of my father. My father began talking to them in Latin, +but I did not understand much of the discourse, though I believe it was +about myself, as their eyes were frequently turned to me. Some +objections appeared to be made to what he said; however, all at last +seemed to be settled, and we all sat down to some food. After that, all +the people got up and went away, with the exception of the woman, who +remained with my father and me. The next day my father also departed, +leaving me with the woman, telling me before he went that she would teach +me some things which it behoved me to know. I remained with her in the +cottage upwards of a week; several of those who had been there coming and +going. The woman, after making me take an oath to be faithful, told me +that the people whom I had seen were a gang who got their livelihood by +passing forged notes, and that my father was a principal man amongst +them, adding, that I must do my best to assist them. I was a poor +ignorant child at that time, and I made no objection, thinking that +whatever my father did must be right; the woman then gave me some +instructions in the smasher's dialect of the Latin language. I made +great progress, because, for the first time in my life, I paid great +attention to my lessons. At last my father returned, and, after some +conversation with the woman, took me away in his cart. I shall be very +short about what happened to my father and myself during two years. My +father did his best to smash the Bank of England by passing forged notes, +and I did my best to assist him. We attended races and fairs in all +kinds of disguises; my father was a first-rate hand at a disguise, and +could appear of all ages, from twenty to fourscore; he was, however, +grabbed at last. He had said, as I have told you, that he should be my +ruin, but I was the cause of his, and all owing to the misfortune of this +here eye of mine. We came to this very place of Horncastle, where my +father purchased two horses of a young man, paying for them with three +forged notes, purporting to be Bank of Englanders of fifty pounds each, +and got the young man to change another of the like amount; he at that +time appeared as a respectable dealer, and I as his son, as I really was. + +"As soon as we had got the horses, we conveyed them to one of the places +of call belonging to our gang, of which there were several. There they +were delivered into the hands of our companions, who speedily sold them +in a distant part of the country. The sum which they fetched--for the +gang kept very regular accounts--formed an important item on the next day +of sharing, of which there were twelve in the year. The young man, whom +my father had paid for the horses with his smashing notes, was soon in +trouble about them, and ran some risk, as I heard, of being executed; but +he bore a good character, told a plain story, and, above all, had +friends, and was admitted to bail; to one of his friends he described my +father and myself. This person happened to be at an inn in Yorkshire, +where my father, disguised as a Quaker, attempted to pass a forged note. +The note was shown to this individual, who pronounced it a forgery, it +being exactly similar to those for which the young man had been in +trouble, and which he had seen. My father, however, being supposed a +respectable man, because he was dressed as a Quaker--the very reason, by +the bye, why anybody who knew aught of the Quakers would have suspected +him to be a rogue--would have been let go, had I not made my appearance, +dressed as his footboy. The friend of the young man looked at my eye, +and seized hold of my father, who made a desperate resistance, I +assisting him, as in duty bound. Being, however, overpowered by numbers, +he bade me by a look, and a word or two in Latin, to make myself scarce. +Though my heart was fit to break, I obeyed my father, who was speedily +committed. I followed him to the county town in which he was lodged, +where shortly after I saw him tried, convicted, and condemned. I then, +having made friends with the jailor's wife, visited him in his cell, +where I found him very much cast down. He said, that my mother had +appeared to him in a dream, and talked to him about a resurrection and +Christ Jesus; there was a Bible before him, and he told me the chaplain +had just been praying with him. He reproached himself much, saying, he +was afraid he had been my ruin, by teaching me bad habits. I told him +not to say any such thing, for that I had been the cause of his, owing to +the misfortune of my eye. He begged me to give over all unlawful +pursuits, saying, that if persisted in, they were sure of bringing a +person to destruction. I advised him to try and make his escape, +proposing, that when the turnkey came to let me out, he should knock him +down, and fight his way out, offering to assist him; showing him a small +saw, with which one of our companions, who was in the neighbourhood, had +provided me, and with which he could have cut through his fetters in five +minutes; but he told me he had no wish to escape, and was quite willing +to die. I was rather hard at that time; I am not very soft now; and I +felt rather ashamed of my father's want of what I called spirit. He was +not executed after all; for the chaplain, who was connected with a great +family, stood his friend, and got his sentence commuted, as they call it, +to transportation; and in order to make the matter easy, he induced my +father to make some valuable disclosures with respect to the smashers' +system. I confess that I would have been hanged before I would have done +so, after having reaped the profit of it; that is, I think so now, seated +comfortably in my inn, with my bottle of champagne before me. He, +however, did not show himself carrion; he would not betray his +companions, who had behaved very handsomely to him, having given the son +of a lord, a great barrister, not a hundred-pound forged bill, but a +hundred hard guineas, to plead his cause, and another ten, to induce him, +after pleading, to put his hand to his breast, and say, that, upon his +honour, he believed the prisoner at the bar to be an honest and injured +man. No; I am glad to be able to say, that my father did not show +himself exactly carrion, though I could almost have wished he had let +himself-- However, I am here with my bottle of champagne and the Romany +Rye, and he was in his cell, with bread and water and the prison +chaplain. He took an affectionate leave of me before he was sent away, +giving me three out of five guineas, all the money he had left. He was a +kind man, but not exactly fitted to fill my grandfather's shoes. I +afterwards learned that he died of fever, as he was being carried across +the sea. + +"During the 'sizes I had made acquaintance with old Fulcher. I was in +the town on my father's account, and he was there on his son's, who, +having committed a small larceny, was in trouble. Young Fulcher, +however, unlike my father, got off, though he did not give the son of a +lord a hundred guineas to speak for him, and ten more to pledge his +sacred honour for his honesty, but gave Counsellor P--- one-and-twenty +shillings to defend him, who so frightened the principal evidence, a +plain honest farming-man, that he flatly contradicted what he had first +said, and at last acknowledged himself to be all the rogues in the world, +and, amongst other things, a perjured villain. Old Fulcher, before he +left the town with his son,--and here it will be well to say that he and +his son left it in a kind of triumph, the base drummer of a militia +regiment, to whom they had given half-a-crown, beating his drum before +them--old Fulcher, I say, asked me to go and visit him, telling me where, +at such a time, I might find him and his caravan and family; offering, if +I thought fit, to teach me basket-making: so, after my father had been +sent off, I went and found up old Fulcher, and became his apprentice in +the basket-making line. I stayed with him till the time of his death, +which happened in about three months, travelling about with him and his +family, and living in green lanes, where we saw gypsies and trampers, and +all kinds of strange characters. Old Fulcher, besides being an +industrious basket-maker, was an out-and-out thief, as was also his son, +and, indeed, every member of his family. They used to make baskets +during the day, and thieve during a great part of the night. I had not +been with them twelve hours before old Fulcher told me that I must thieve +as well as the rest. I demurred at first, for I remembered the fate of +my father, and what he had told me about leaving off bad courses, but +soon allowed myself to be over-persuaded; more especially as the first +robbery I was asked to do was a fruit robbery. I was to go with young +Fulcher, and steal some fine Morell cherries, which grew against a wall +in a gentleman's garden; so young Fulcher and I went and stole the +cherries, one half of which we ate, and gave the rest to the old man, who +sold them to a fruiterer ten miles off from the place where we had stolen +them. The next night old Fulcher took me out with himself. He was a +great thief, though in a small way. He used to say, that they were +fools, who did not always manage to keep the rope below their shoulders, +by which he meant, that it was not advisable to commit a robbery, or do +anything which could bring you to the gallows. He was all for petty +larceny, and knew where to put his hand upon any little thing in England, +which it was possible to steal. I submit it to the better judgment of +the Romany Rye, who I see is a great hand for words and names, whether he +ought not to have been called old Filcher, instead of Fulcher. I shan't +give a regular account of the larcenies he committed during the short +time I knew him, either alone by himself, or with me and his son. I +shall merely relate the last. + +"A melancholy gentleman, who lived a very solitary life, had a large carp +in a shady pond in a meadow close to his house; he was exceedingly fond +of it, and used to feed it with his own hand, the creature being so tame +that it would put its snout out of the water to be fed when it was +whistled to; feeding and looking at his carp were the only pleasures the +poor melancholy gentleman possessed. Old Fulcher--being in the +neighbourhood, and having an order from a fishmonger for a large fish, +which was wanted at a great city dinner, at which His Majesty was to be +present--swore he would steal the carp, and asked me to go with him. I +had heard of the gentleman's fondness for his creature, and begged him to +let it be, advising him to go and steal some other fish; but old Fulcher +swore, and said he would have the carp, although its master should hang +himself; I told him he might go by himself, but he took his son and stole +the carp, which weighed seventeen pounds. Old Fulcher got thirty +shillings for the carp, which I afterwards heard was much admired and +relished by His Majesty. The master, however, of the carp, on losing his +favourite, became more melancholy than ever, and in a little time hanged +himself. 'What's sport for one, is death to another,' I once heard at +the village-school read out of a copy-book. + +"This was the last larceny old Fulcher ever committed. He could keep his +neck always out of the noose, but he could not always keep his leg out of +the trap. A few nights after, having removed to a distance, he went to +an osier car in order to steal some osiers for his basket-making, for he +never bought any. I followed a little way behind. Old Fulcher had +frequently stolen osiers out of the car, whilst in the neighbourhood, but +during his absence the property, of which the car was a part, had been +let to a young gentleman, a great hand for preserving game. Old Fulcher +had not got far into the car before he put his foot into a man-trap. +Hearing old Fulcher shriek, I ran up, and found him in a dreadful +condition. Putting a large stick which I carried into the jaws of the +trap, I contrived to prize them open, and get old Fulcher's leg out, but +the leg was broken. So I ran to the caravan, and told young Fulcher of +what had happened, and he and I helped his father home. A doctor was +sent for, who said that it was necessary to take the leg off, but old +Fulcher, being very much afraid of pain, said it should not be taken off, +and the doctor went away, but after some days, old Fulcher becoming +worse, ordered the doctor to be sent for, who came and took off his leg, +but it was then too late, mortification had come on, and in a little time +old Fulcher died. + +"Thus perished old Fulcher; he was succeeded in his business by his son, +young Fulcher, who, immediately after the death of his father, was called +old Fulcher, it being our English custom to call everybody old, as soon +as their fathers are buried; young Fulcher--I mean he who had been called +young, but was now old Fulcher--wanted me to go out and commit larcenies +with him; but I told him that I would have nothing more to do with +thieving, having seen the ill effects of it, and that I should leave them +in the morning. Old Fulcher begged me to think better of it, and his +mother joined with him. They offered, if I would stay, to give me Mary +Fulcher as a mort, till she and I were old enough to be regularly +married, she being the daughter of the one, and the sister of the other. +I liked the girl very well, for she had always been civil to me, and had +a fair complexion and nice red hair, both of which I like, being a bit of +a black myself; but I refused, being determined to see something more of +the world than I could hope to do with the Fulchers, and, moreover, to +live honestly, which I could never do along with them. So the next +morning I left them: I was, as I said before, quite determined upon an +honest livelihood, and I soon found one. He is a great fool who is ever +dishonest in England. Any person who has any natural gift, and everybody +has some natural gift, is sure of finding encouragement in this noble +country of ours, provided he will but exhibit it. I had not walked more +than three miles before I came to a wonderfully high church steeple, +which stood close by the road; I looked at the steeple, and going to a +heap of smooth pebbles which lay by the roadside, I took up some, and +then went into the churchyard, and placing myself just below the tower, +my right foot resting on a ledge, about two foot from the ground, I, with +my left hand--being a left-handed person, do you see--flung or chucked up +a stone, which, lighting on the top of the steeple, which was at least a +hundred and fifty feet high, did there remain. After repeating this feat +two or three times, I 'hulled' up a stone, which went clean over the +tower, and then one, my right foot still on the ledge, which rising at +least five yards above the steeple, did fall down just at my feet. +Without knowing it, I was showing off my gift to others besides myself, +doing what, perhaps, not five men in England could do. Two men, who were +passing by, stopped and looked at my proceedings, and when I had done +flinging came into the churchyard, and, after paying me a compliment on +what they had seen me do, proposed that I should join company with them; +I asked them who they were, and they told me. The one was Hopping Ned, +and the other Biting Giles. Both had their gifts, by which they got +their livelihood; Ned could hop a hundred yards with any man in England, +and Giles could lift up with his teeth any dresser or kitchen-table in +the country, and, standing erect, hold it dangling in his jaws. There's +many a big oak table and dresser in certain districts of England, which +bear the marks of Giles's teeth; and I make no doubt that, a hundred or +two years hence, there'll be strange stories about those marks, and that +people will point them out as a proof that there were giants in bygone +time, and that many a dentist will moralize on the decays which human +teeth have undergone. + +"They wanted me to go about with them, and exhibit my gift occasionally, +as they did theirs, promising that the money that was got by the +exhibitions should be honestly divided. I consented, and we set off +together, and that evening coming to a village, and putting up at the ale- +house, all the grand folks of the village being there smoking their +pipes, we contrived to introduce the subject of hopping--the upshot being +that Ned hopped against the school-master for a pound, and beat him +hollow; shortly after, Giles, for a wager, took up the kitchen table in +his jaws, though he had to pay a shilling to the landlady for the marks +he left, whose grandchildren will perhaps get money by exhibiting them. +As for myself, I did nothing that day, but the next, on which my +companions did nothing, I showed off at hulling stones against a cripple, +the crack man for stone-throwing, of a small town, a few miles farther +on. Bets were made to the tune of some pounds; I contrived to beat the +cripple, and just contrived; for to do him justice I must acknowledge he +was a first-rate hand at stones, though he had a game hip, and went +sideways; his head, when he walked--if his movements could be called +walking--not being above three feet above the ground. So we travelled, I +and my companions, showing off our gifts, Giles and I occasionally for a +gathering, but Ned never hopping, unless against somebody for a wager. We +lived honestly and comfortably, making no little money by our natural +endowments, and were known over a great part of England as 'Hopping Ned,' +'Biting Giles,' and 'Hull over the Head Jack,' which was my name, it +being the blackguard fashion of the English, do you see, to--" + +Here I interrupted the jockey. "You may call it a blackguard fashion," +said I, "and I dare say it is, or it would scarcely be English; but it is +an immensely ancient one, and is handed down to us from our northern +ancestry, especially the Danes, who were in the habit of giving people +surnames, or rather nicknames, from some quality of body or mind, but +generally from some disadvantageous peculiarity of feature; for there is +no denying that the English, Norse, or whatever we may please to call +them, are an envious, depreciatory set of people, who not only give their +poor comrades contemptuous names, but their great people also. They +didn't call you the matchless Hurler, because, by doing so, they would +have paid you a compliment, but Hull over the Head Jack, as much as to +say that after all you were a scrub; so, in ancient time, instead of +calling Regner the great conqueror, the Nation Tamer, they surnamed him +Lodbrog, which signifies Rough or Hairy Breeks--lod or loddin signifying +rough or hairy; and instead of complimenting Halgerdr, the wife of Gunnar +of Hlitharend, the great champion of Iceland, upon her majestic presence, +by calling her Halgerdr, the stately or tall; what must they do but term +her Ha-brokr, or Highbreeks, it being the fashion in old times for +Northern ladies to wear breeks, or breeches, which English ladies of the +present day never think of doing; and just, as of old, they called +Halgerdr Long-breeks, so this very day a fellow of Horncastle called, in +my hearing, our noble-looking Hungarian friend here, Long-stockings. Oh, +I could give you a hundred instances, both ancient and modern, of this +unseemly propensity of our illustrious race, though I will only trouble +you with a few more ancient ones; they not only nicknamed Regner, but his +sons also, who were all kings, and distinguished men: one, whose name was +Biorn, they nicknamed Ironsides; another, Sigurd, Snake in the Eye; +another, White Sark, or White Shirt--I wonder they did not call him Dirty +Shirt; and Ivarr, another, who was king of Northumberland, they called +Bienlausi, or the Legless, because he was spindle-shanked, had no sap in +his bones, and consequently no children. He was a great king, it is +true, and very wise, nevertheless his blackguard countrymen, always +averse, as their descendants are, to give credit to anybody, for any +valuable quality or possession, must needs lay hold, do you see--" + +But before I could say any more, the jockey, having laid down his pipe, +rose, and having taken off his coat, advanced towards me. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII + + +A Short-tempered Person--Gravitation--The Best Endowment--Mary +Fulcher--Fair Dealing--Horse-witchery--Darius and his Groom--The Jockey's +Tricks--The Two Characters--The Jockey's Song. + +The jockey, having taken off his coat and advanced towards me, as I have +stated in the preceding chapter, exclaimed, in an angry tone, "This is +the third time you have interrupted me in my tale, Mr. Rye; I passed over +the two first times with a simple warning, but you will now please to get +up and give me the satisfaction of a man." + +"I am really sorry," said I, "if I have given you offence, but you were +talking of our English habits of bestowing nicknames, and I could not +refrain from giving a few examples tending to prove what a very ancient +habit it is." + +"But you interrupted me," said the jockey, "and put me out of my tale, +which you had no right to do; and as for your examples, how do you know +that I wasn't going to give some as old or older than yourn? Now stand +up, and I'll make an example of you." + +"Well," said I, "I confess it was wrong in me to interrupt you, and I ask +your pardon." + +"That won't do," said the jockey, "asking pardon won't do." + +"Oh," said I, getting up, "if asking pardon does not satisfy you, you are +a different man from what I considered you." + +But here the Hungarian, also getting up, interposed his tall form and +pipe between us, saying in English, scarcely intelligible, "Let there be +no dispute! As for myself, I am very much obliged to the young man of +Horncastle for his interruption, though he has told me that one of his +dirty townsmen called me 'Long-stocking.' By Isten! there is more +learning in what he has just said than in all the verdammt English +histories of Thor and Tzernebock I ever read." + +"I care nothing for his learning," said the jockey. "I consider myself +as good a man as he, for all his learning; so stand out of the way, Mr. +Sixfooteleven, or--" + +"I shall do no such thing," said the Hungarian. "I wonder you are not +ashamed of yourself. You ask a young man to drink champagne with you, +you make him dronk, he interrupt you with very good sense; he ask your +pardon, yet you not--" + +"Well," said the jockey, "I am satisfied. I am rather a short-tempered +person, but I bear no malice. He is, as you say, drinking my wine, and +has perhaps taken a drop too much, not being used to such high liquor; +but one doesn't like to be put out of one's tale, more especially when +one was about to moralize, do you see, oneself, and to show off what +little learning one has. However, I bears no malice. Here is a hand to +each of you; we'll take another glass each, and think no more about it." + +The jockey having shaken both of our hands, and filled our glasses and +his own with what champagne remained in the bottle, put on his coat, sat +down, and resumed his pipe and story. + +"Where was I? Oh, roaming about the country with Hopping Ned and Biting +Giles. Those were happy days, and a merry and prosperous life we led. +However, nothing continues under the sun in the same state in which it +begins, and our firm was soon destined to undergo a change. We came to a +village where there was a very high church steeple, and in a little time +my comrades induced a crowd of people to go and see me display my gift by +flinging stones above the heads of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, who +stood at the four corners on the top, carved in stone. The parson, +seeing the crowd, came waddling out of his rectory to see what was going +on. After I had flung up the stones, letting them fall just where I +liked--and one, I remember, fell on the head of Mark, where I dare say it +remains to the present day--the parson, who was one of the description of +people called philosophers, held up his hand, and asked me to let the +next stone I flung up fall upon it. He wished, do you see, to know with +what weight the stone would fall down, and talked something about +gravitation--a word which I could never understand to the present day, +save that it turned out a grave matter to me. I, like a silly fellow +myself, must needs consent, and, flinging the stone up to a vast height, +contrived so that it fell into the parson's hand, which it cut +dreadfully. The parson flew into a great rage, more particularly as +everybody laughed at him, and, being a magistrate, ordered his clerk, who +was likewise constable, to conduct me to prison as a rogue and vagabond, +telling my comrades that if they did not take themselves off, he would +serve them in the same manner. So Ned hopped off, and Giles ran after +him, without making any gathering, and I was led to Bridewell, my +mittimus following at the end of a week, the parson's hand not permitting +him to write before that time. In the Bridewell I remained a month, +when, being dismissed, I went in quest of my companions, whom, after some +time, I found up, but they refused to keep my company any longer; telling +me that I was a dangerous character, likely to bring them more trouble +than profit; they had, moreover, filled up my place. Going into a +cottage to ask for a drink of water, they saw a country fellow making +faces to amuse his children; the faces were so wonderful that Hopping Ned +and Biting Giles at once proposed taking him into partnership, and the +man--who was a fellow not very fond of work--after a little entreaty, +went away with them. I saw him exhibit his gift, and couldn't blame the +others for preferring him to me; he was a proper ugly fellow at all +times, but when he made faces his countenance was like nothing human. He +was called Ugly Moses. I was so amazed at his faces, that though poor +myself I gave him sixpence, which I have never grudged to this day, for I +never saw anything like them. The firm throve wonderfully after he had +been admitted into it. He died some little time ago, keeper of a public- +house, which he had been enabled to take from the profits of his faces. A +son of his, one of the children he was making faces to when my comrades +entered his door, is at present a barrister, and a very rising one. He +has his gift--he has not, it is true, the gift of the gab, but he has +something better, he was born with a grin on his face, a quiet grin; he +would not have done to grin through a collar like his father, and would +never have been taken up by Hopping Ned and Biting Giles, but that grin +of his caused him to be noticed by a much greater person than either; an +attorney observing it took a liking to the lad, and prophesied that he +would some day be heard of in the world; and in order to give him the +first lift, took him into his office, at first to light fires and do such +kind of work, and after a little time taught him to write, then promoted +him to a desk, articled him afterwards, and being unmarried, and without +children, left him what he had when he died. The young fellow, after +practising at the law some time, went to the bar, where, in a few years, +helped on by his grin, for he had nothing else to recommend him, he +became, as I said before, a rising barrister. He comes our circuit, and +I occasionally employ him, when I am obliged to go to law about such a +thing as an unsound horse. He generally brings me through--or rather +that grin of his does--and yet I don't like the fellow, confound him, but +I'm an oddity--no, the one I like, and whom I generally employ, is a +fellow quite different, a bluff sturdy dog, with no grin on his face, but +with a look that seems to say I am an honest man, and what cares I for +any one? And an honest man he is, and something more. I have known +coves with a better gift of the gab, though not many, but he always +speaks to the purpose, and understands law thoroughly; and that's not +all. When at college, for he has been at college, he carried off +everything before him as a Latiner, and was first-rate at a game they +call matthew mattocks. I don't exactly know what it is, but I have heard +that he who is first-rate at matthew mattocks is thought more of than if +he were first-rate Latiner. + +"Well, the chap that I'm talking about, not only came out first-rate +Latiner, but first-rate at matthew mattocks too; doing, in fact, as I am +told by those who knows, for I was never at college myself, what no one +had ever done before. Well, he makes his appearance at our circuit, does +very well, of course, but he has a somewhat high front, as becomes an +honest man, and one who has beat every one at Latin and matthew mattocks; +and one who can speak first-rate law and sense;--but see now, the cove +with the grin, who has like myself never been at college; knows nothing +of Latin, or matthew mattocks, and has no particular gift of the gab, has +two briefs for his one, and I suppose very properly, for that grin of his +curries favour with the juries; and mark me, that grin of his will enable +him to beat the other in the long run. We all know what all barrister +coves looks forward to--a seat on the hop sack. Well, I'll bet a bull to +fivepence, that the grinner gets upon it, and the snarler doesn't; at any +rate, that he gets there first. I calls my cove--for he is my cove--a +snarler; because your first-rates at matthew mattocks are called +snarlers, and for no other reason; for the chap, though with a high +front, is a good chap, and once drank a glass of ale with me, after +buying an animal out of my stable. I have often thought it a pity he +wasn't born with a grin on his face like the son of Ugly _Moses_. It is +true he would scarcely then have been an out and outer at Latin and +matthew mattocks, but what need of either to a chap born with a grin? +Talk of being born with a silver spoon in one's mouth! give me a cove +born with a grin on his face--a much better endowment. + +"I will now shorten my history as much as I can, for we have talked as +much as folks do during a whole night in the Commons' House, though, of +course, not with so much learning, or so much to the purpose, +because--why? They are in the House of Commons, and we in a public room +of an inn at Horncastle. The goodness of the ale, do ye see, never +depending on what it is made of, oh, no! but on the fashion and +appearance of the jug in which it is served up. After being turned out +of the firm, I got my living in two or three honest ways, which I shall +not trouble you with describing. I did not like any of them, however, as +they did not exactly suit my humour; at last I found one which did. One +Saturday afternoon, I chanced to be in the cattle-market of a place about +eighty miles from here; there I won the favour of an old gentleman who +sold dickeys. He had a very shabby squad of animals, without soul or +spirit; nobody would buy them, till I leaped upon their hinder ends, and +by merely wriggling in a particular manner, made them caper and bound so +to people's liking, that in a few hours every one of them was sold at +very sufficient prices. The old gentleman was so pleased with my skill, +that he took me home with him, and in a very little time into +partnership. It's a good thing to have a gift, but yet better to have +two. I might have got a very decent livelihood by throwing stones, but I +much question whether I should ever have attained to the position in +society which I now occupy, but for my knowledge of animals. I lived +very comfortably with the old gentleman till he died, which he did in +about a fortnight after he had laid his old lady in the ground. Having +no children, he left me what should remain after he had been buried +decently, and the remainder was six dickeys and thirty shillings in +silver. I remained in the dickey trade ten years, during which time I +saved a hundred pounds. I then embarked in the horse line. One day, +being in the--market on a Saturday, I saw Mary Fulcher with a halter +round her neck, led about by a man, who offered to sell her for eighteen- +pence. I took out the money forthwith and bought her; the man was her +husband, a basket-maker, with whom she had lived several years without +having any children; he was a drunken, quarrel-some fellow, and having +had a dispute with her the day before, he determined to get rid of her, +by putting a halter round her neck and leading her to the cattle-market, +as if she were a mare, which he had, it seems, a right to do;--all women +being considered mares by old English law, and, indeed, still called +mares in certain counties, where genuine old English is still preserved. +That same afternoon, the man who had been her husband, having got drunk +in a public-house, with the money which he had received for her, +quarrelled with another man, and receiving a blow under the ear, fell +upon the floor, and died of artiflex; and in less than three weeks I was +married to Mary Fulcher, by virtue of regular bans. I am told she was +legally my property by virtue of my having bought her with a halter round +her neck; but, to tell you the truth, I think everybody should live by +his trade, and I didn't wish to act shabbily towards our parson, who is a +good fellow, and has certainly a right to his fees. A better wife than +Mary Fulcher--I mean Mary Dale--no one ever had; she has borne me several +children, and has at all times shown a willingness to oblige me, and to +be my faithful wife. Amongst other things, I begged her to have done +with her family, and I believe she has never spoken to them since. + +"I have thriven very well in business, and my name is up as being a +person who can be depended on, when folks treats me handsomely. I always +make a point when a gentleman comes to me, and says, 'Mr. Dale,' or +'John,' for I have no objection to be called John by a gentleman--'I +wants a good horse, and am ready to pay a good price'--I always makes a +point, I say, to furnish him with an animal worth the money; but when I +sees a fellow, whether he calls himself gentleman or not, wishing to +circumvent me, what does I do? I doesn't quarrel with him; not I; but, +letting him imagine he is taking me in, I contrives to sell him a screw +for thirty pounds, not worth thirty shillings. All honest respectable +people have at present great confidence in me, and frequently commissions +me to buy them horses at great fairs like this. + +"This short young gentleman was recommended to me by a great landed +proprietor, to whom he bore letters of recommendation from some great +prince in his own country, who had a long time ago been entertained at +the house of the landed proprietor, and the consequence is, that I brings +young six foot six to Horncastle, and purchases for him the horse of the +Romany Rye. I don't do these kind things for nothing, it is true; that +can't be expected; for every one must live by his trade; but, as I said +before, when I am treated handsomely, I treat folks so. Honesty, I have +discovered, as perhaps some other people have, is by far the best policy; +though, as I also said before, when I'm along with thieves, I can beat +them at their own game. If I am obliged to do it, I can pass off the +veriest screw as a flying drummedary, for even when I was a child I had +found out by various means what may be done with animals. I wish now to +ask a civil question, Mr. Romany Rye. Certain folks have told me that +you are a horse witch; are you one, or are you not?" + +"I, like yourself," said I, "know, to a certain extent, what may be done +with animals." + +"Then how would you, Mr. Romany Rye, pass off the veriest screw in the +world for a flying drummedary?" + +"By putting a small live eel down his throat; as long as the eel remained +in his stomach, the horse would appear brisk and lively in a surprising +degree." + +"And how would you contrive to make a regular kicker and biter appear so +tame and gentle, that any respectable fat old gentleman of sixty, who +wanted an easy goer, would be glad to purchase him for fifty pounds?" + +"By pouring down his throat four pints of generous old ale, which would +make him so happy and comfortable, that he would not have the heart to +kick or bite anybody, for a season at least." + +"And where did you learn all this?" said the jockey. + +"I have read about the eel in an old English book, and about the making +drunk in a Spanish novel, and, singularly enough, I was told the same +things by a wild blacksmith in Ireland. Now tell me, do you bewitch +horses in this way?" + +"I?" said the jockey; "mercy upon us! I wouldn't do such things for a +hatful of money. No, no, preserve me from live eels and hocussing! And +now let me ask you, how would you spirit a horse out of a field?" + +"How would I spirit a horse out of a field?" + +"Yes; supposing you were down in the world, and had determined on taking +up the horse-stealing line of business." + +"Why, I should-- But I tell you what, friend, I see you are trying to +pump me, and I tell you plainly that I will hear something from you with +respect to your art, before I tell you anything more. Now how would you +whisper a horse out of a field, provided you were down in the world, and +so forth?" + +"Ah, ah, I see you are up to a game, Mr. Romany: however, I am a +gentleman in mind, if not by birth, and I scorn to do the unhandsome +thing to anybody who has dealt fairly towards me. Now you told me +something I didn't know, and I'll tell you something which perhaps you do +know. I whispers a horse out of a field in this way: I have a mare in my +stable; well, in the early season of the year I goes into my stable--Well, +I puts the sponge into a small bottle which I keeps corked. I takes my +bottle in my hand, and goes into a field, suppose by night, where there +is a very fine stag horse. I manage with great difficulty to get within +ten yards of the horse, who stands staring at me just ready to run away. +I then uncorks my bottle, presses my fore-finger to the sponge, and holds +it out to the horse, the horse gives a sniff, then a start, and comes +nearer. I corks up my bottle and puts it into my pocket. My business is +done, for the next two hours the horse would follow me anywhere--the +difficulty, indeed, would be to get rid of him. Now is that your way of +doing business?" + +"My way of doing business? Mercy upon us! I wouldn't steal a horse in +that way, or, indeed, in any way, for all the money in the world: +however, let me tell you, for your comfort, that a trick somewhat similar +is described in the history of Herodotus." + +"In the history of Herod's ass!" said the jockey; "well, if I did write a +book, it should be about something more genteel than a dickey." + +"I did not say Herod's ass," said I, "but Herodotus, a very genteel +writer, I assure you, who wrote a history about very genteel people, in a +language no less genteel than Greek, more than two thousand years ago. +There was a dispute as to who should be king amongst certain imperious +chieftains. At last they agreed to obey him whose horse should neigh +first on a certain day, in front of the royal palace, before the rising +of the sun; for you must know that they did not worship the person who +made the sun as we do, but the sun itself. So one of these chieftains, +talking over the matter to his groom, and saying he wondered who would be +king, the fellow said, 'Why you, master, or I don't know much about +horses.' So the day before the day of trial, what does the groom do, but +take his master's horse before the palace and introduce him to a mare in +the stable, and then lead him forth again. Well, early the next day all +the chieftains on their horses appeared in front of the palace before the +dawn of day. Not a horse neighed but one, and that was the horse of him +who had consulted with his groom, who, thinking of the animal within the +stable, gave such a neigh that all the buildings rang. His rider was +forthwith elected king, and a brave king he was. So this shows what +seemingly wonderful things may be brought about by a little preparation." + +"It doth," said the jockey; "what was the chap's name?" + +"His name--his name--Darius Hystaspes." + +"And the groom's?" + +"I don't know." + +"And he made a good king?" + +"First-rate." + +"Only think! well, if he made a good king, what a wonderful king the +groom would have made, through whose knowledge of 'orses he was put on +the throne. And now another question, Mr. Romany Rye, have you +particular words which have power to soothe or aggravate horses?" + +"You should ask me," said I, "whether I have horses that can be +aggravated or soothed by particular words. No words have any particular +power over horses or other animals who have never heard them before--how, +should they? But certain animals connect ideas of misery or enjoyment +with particular words which they are acquainted with. I'll give you an +example. I knew a cob in Ireland that could be driven to a state of +kicking madness by a particular word, used by a particular person, in a +particular tone; but that word was connected with a very painful +operation which had been performed upon him by that individual, who had +frequently employed it at a certain period whilst the animal had been +under his treatment. The same cob could be soothed in a moment by +another word, used by the same individual in a very different kind of +tone; the word was deaghblasda, or sweet tasted. Some time after the +operation, whilst the cob was yet under his hands, the fellow--who was +what the Irish call a fairy smith--had done all he could to soothe the +creature, and had at last succeeded by giving it gingerbread-buttons, of +which the cob became passionately fond. Invariably, however, before +giving it a button, he said, 'Deaghblasda,' with which word the cob by +degrees associated an idea of unmixed enjoyment: so if he could rouse the +cob to madness by the word which recalled the torture to its remembrance, +he could as easily soothe it by the other word, which the cob knew would +be instantly followed by the button, which the smith never failed to give +him after using the word deaghblasda." + +"There is nothing wonderful to be done," said the jockey, "without a good +deal of preparation, as I know myself. Folks stare and wonder at certain +things which they would only laugh at if they knew how they were done; +and to prove what I say is true, I will give you one or two examples. Can +either of you lend me a handkerchief? That won't do," said he, as I +presented him with a silk one. "I wish for a delicate white +handkerchief. That's just the kind of thing," said he, as the Hungarian +offered him a fine white cambric handkerchief, beautifully worked with +gold at the hems; "now you shall see me set this handkerchief on fire." +"Don't let him do so by any means," said the Hungarian, speaking to me in +German, "it is the gift of a lady whom I highly admire, and I would not +have it burnt for the world." "He has no occasion to be under any +apprehension," said the jockey, after I had interpreted to him what the +Hungarian had said, "I will restore it to him uninjured, or my name is +not Jack Dale." Then sticking the handkerchief carelessly into the left +side of his bosom, he took the candle, which by this time had burnt very +low, and holding his head back, he applied the flame to the handkerchief, +which instantly seemed to catch fire. "What do you think of that?" said +he to the Hungarian. "Why, that you have ruined me," said the latter. +"No harm done, I assure you," said the jockey, who presently, clapping +his hand on his bosom, extinguished the fire, and returned the +handkerchief to the Hungarian, asking him if it was burnt. "I see no +burn upon it," said the Hungarian; "but in the name of Gott, how could +you set it on fire without burning it?" "I never set it on fire at all," +said the jockey; "I set this on fire," showing us a piece of half-burnt +calico. "I placed this calico above it, and lighted not the +handkerchief, but the rag. Now I will show you something else. I have a +magic shilling in my pocket, which I can make run up along my arm. But, +first of all, I would gladly know whether either of you can do the like." +Thereupon the Hungarian and myself, putting our hands into our pockets, +took out shillings, and endeavoured to make them run up our arms, but +utterly failed; both shillings, after we had made two or three attempts, +falling to the ground. "What noncomposses you both are," said the +jockey; and placing a shilling on the end of the fingers of his right +hand he made strange faces to it, drawing back his head, whereupon the +shilling instantly began to run up his arm, occasionally hopping and +jumping as if it were bewitched, always endeavouring to make towards the +head of the jockey. + +"How do I do that?" said he, addressing himself to me. "I really do not +know," said I, "unless it is by the motion of your arm." "The motion of +my nonsense," said the jockey, and, making a dreadful grimace, the +shilling hopped upon his knee, and began to run up his thigh and to climb +up his breast. "How is that done?" said he again. "By witchcraft, I +suppose," said I. "There you are right," said the jockey; "by the +witchcraft of one of Miss Berners' hairs; the end of one of her long +hairs is tied to that shilling by means of a hole in it, and the other +end goes round my neck by means of a loop; so that, when I draw back my +head, the shilling follows it. I suppose you wish to know how I got the +hair," said he, grinning at me. "I will tell you. I once, in the course +of my ridings, saw Miss Berners beneath a hedge, combing out her long +hair, and, being rather a modest kind of person, what must I do but get +off my horse, tie him to a gate, go up to her, and endeavour to enter +into conversation with her. After giving her the sele of the day, and +complimenting her on her hair, I asked her to give me one of the threads; +whereupon she gave me such a look, and, calling me fellow, told me to +take myself off. 'I must have a hair first,' said I, making a snatch at +one. I believe I hurt her; but, whether I did or not, up she started, +and, though her hair was unbound, gave me the only drubbing I ever had in +my life. Lor! how, with her right hand, she fibbed me whilst she held me +round the neck with her left arm; I was soon glad to beg her pardon on my +knees, which she gave me in a moment, when she saw me in that condition, +being the most placable creature in the world, and not only her pardon, +but one of the hairs which I longed for, which I put through a shilling, +with which I have on evenings after fairs, like this, frequently worked +what seemed to those who looked on downright witchcraft, but which is +nothing more than pleasant deception. And now, Mr. Romany Rye, to +testify my regard for you, I give you the shilling and the hair. I think +you have a kind of respect for Miss Berners; but whether you have or not, +keep them as long as you can, and whenever you look at them think of the +finest woman in England, and of John Dale, the jockey of Horncastle. I +believe I have told you my history," said he--"no, not quite; there is +one circumstance I had passed over. I told you that I have thriven very +well in business, and so I have, upon the whole; at any rate, I find +myself comfortably off now. I have horses, money, and owe nobody a +groat; at any rate, nothing but what I could pay to-morrow. Yet I have +had my dreary day, ay, after I had obtained what I call a station in the +world. All of a sudden, about five years ago, everything seemed to go +wrong with me--horses became sick or died, people who owed me money broke +or ran away, my house caught fire, in fact, everything went against me; +and not from any mismanagement of my own. I looked round for help, +but--what do you think?--nobody would help me. Somehow or other it had +got abroad that I was in difficulties, and everybody seemed disposed to +avoid me, as if I had got the plague. Those who were always offering me +help when I wanted none, now, when they thought me in trouble, talked of +arresting me. Yes; two particular friends of mine, who had always been +offering me their purses when my own was stuffed full, now talked of +arresting me, though I only owed the scoundrels a hundred pounds each; +and they would have done so, provided I had not paid them what I owed +them; and how did I do that? Why, I was able to do it because I found a +friend--and who was that friend? Why, a man who has since been hung, of +whom everybody has heard, and of whom everybody for the next hundred +years will occasionally talk. + +"One day, whilst in trouble, I was visited by a person I had occasionally +met at sporting-dinners. He came to look after a Suffolk Punch, the best +horse, by the bye, that anybody can purchase to drive, it being the only +animal of the horse kind in England that will pull twice at a dead +weight. I told him that I had none at that time that I could recommend; +in fact, that every horse in my stable was sick. He then invited me to +dine with him at an inn close by, and I was glad to go with him, in the +hope of getting rid of unpleasant thoughts. After dinner, during which +he talked nothing but slang, observing I looked very melancholy, he asked +me what was the matter with me, and I, my heart being opened by the wine +he had made me drink, told him my circumstances without reserve. With an +oath or two for not having treated him at first like a friend, he said he +would soon set me all right; and pulling out two hundred pounds, told me +to pay him when I could. I felt as I never felt before; however, I took +his notes, paid my sneaks, and in less than three months was right again, +and had returned him his money. On paying it to him, I said that I had +now a Punch which would just suit him, saying that I would give it to +him--a free gift--for nothing. He swore at me;--telling me to keep my +Punch, for that he was suited already. I begged him to tell me how I +could requite him for his kindness, whereupon, with the most dreadful +oath I ever heard, he bade me come and see him hanged when his time was +come. I wrung his hand, and told him I would, and I kept my word. The +night before the day he was hanged at H---, I harnessed a Suffolk Punch +to my light gig, the same Punch which I had offered to him, which I have +ever since kept, and which brought me and this short young man to +Horncastle, and in eleven hours I drove that Punch one hundred and ten +miles. I arrived at H--- just in the nick of time. There was the ugly +jail--the scaffold--and there upon it stood the only friend I ever had in +the world. Driving my Punch, which was all in a foam, into the midst of +the crowd, which made way for me as if it knew what I came for, I stood +up in my gig, took off my hat, and shouted, 'God Almighty bless you, +Jack!' The dying man turned his pale grim face towards me--for his face +was always somewhat grim, do you see--nodded and said, or I thought I +heard him say, 'All right, old chap.' The next moment--my eyes water. He +had a high heart, got into a scrape whilst in the marines, lost his half- +pay, took to the turf, ring, gambling, and at last cut the throat of a +villain who had robbed him of nearly all he had. But he had good +qualities, and I know for certain that he never did half the bad things +laid to his charge; for example, he never bribed Tom Oliver to fight +cross, as it was said he did on the day of the awful thunder-storm. Ned +Flatnose fairly beat Tom Oliver, for though Ned was not what's called a +good fighter, he had a particular blow, which if he could put in he was +sure to win. His right shoulder, do you see, was two inches farther back +than it ought to have been, and consequently his right fist generally +fell short; but if he could swing himself round, and put in a blow with +that right arm, he could kill or take away the senses of anybody in the +world. It was by putting in that blow in his second fight with Spring +that he beat noble Tom. Spring beat him like a sack in the first battle, +but in the second Ned Painter--for that was his real name--contrived to +put in his blow, and took the senses out of Spring; and in like manner he +took the senses out of Tom Oliver. + +"Well, some are born to be hanged, and some are not; and many of those +who are not hanged are much worse than those who are. Jack, with many a +good quality, is hanged, whilst that fellow of a lord, who wanted to get +the horse from you at about two-thirds of his value, without a single +good quality in the world, is not hanged, and probably will remain so. +You ask the reason why, perhaps. I'll tell you; the lack of a certain +quality called courage, which Jack possessed in abundance, will preserve +him; from the love which he bears his own neck he will do nothing which +can bring him to the gallows. In my rough way I'll draw their characters +from their childhood, and then ask whether Jack was not the best +character of the two. Jack was a rough, audacious boy, fond of fighting, +going a birds'-nesting, but I never heard he did anything particularly +cruel save once, I believe, tying a canister to a butcher's dog's tail; +whilst this fellow of a lord was by nature a savage beast, and when a boy +would in winter pluck poor fowls naked, and set them running on the ice +and in the snow, and was particularly fond of burning cats alive in the +fire. Jack, when a lad, gets a commission on board a ship as an officer +of horse marines, and in two or three engagements behaves quite up to the +mark--at least of a marine; the marines having no particular character +for courage, you know--never having run to the guns and fired them like +madmen after the blue jackets had had more than enough. Oh, dear me, no! +My lord gets into the valorous British army, where cowardice--Oh, dear +me!--is a thing almost entirely unknown; and being on the field of +Waterloo the day before the battle, falls off his horse, and, pretending +to be hurt in the back, gets himself put on the sick list--a pretty +excuse--hurting his back--for not being present at such a fight. Old +Benbow, after part of both his legs had been shot away in a sea-fight, +made the carpenter make him a cradle to hold his bloody stumps, and +continued on deck, cheering his men till he died. Jack returns home, and +gets into trouble, and having nothing to subsist by but his wits, gets +his living by the ring and the turf, doing many an odd kind of thing, I +dare say, but not half those laid to his charge. My lord does much the +same without the excuse for doing so which Jack had, for he had plenty of +means, is a leg, and a black, only in a more polished way, and with more +cunning, and I may say success, having done many a rascally thing never +laid to his charge. Jack at last cuts the throat of a villain who had +cheated him of all he had in the world, and who, I am told, was in many +points the counterpart of this screw and white feather, is taken up, +tried, and executed; and certainly taking away a man's life is a dreadful +thing; but is there nothing as bad? Whitefeather will cut no person's +throat--I will not say who has cheated him, for, being a cheat himself, +he will take good care that nobody cheats him, but he'll do something +quite as bad; out of envy to a person who never injured him, and whom he +hates for being more clever and respected than himself, he will do all he +possibly can, by backbiting and every unfair means, to do that person a +mortal injury. But Jack is hanged, and my lord it not. Is that right? +My wife, Mary Fulcher--I beg her pardon, Mary Dale--who is a Methodist, +and has heard the mighty preacher, Peter Williams, says some people are +preserved from hanging by the grace of God. With her I differs, and says +it is from want of courage. This Whitefeather, with one particle of +Jack's courage, and with one tithe of his good qualities, would have been +hanged long ago, for he has ten times Jack's malignity. Jack was hanged +because, along with his bad qualities, he had courage and generosity; +this fellow is not, because with all Jack's bad qualities, and many more, +amongst which is cunning, he has neither courage nor generosity. Think +of a fellow like that putting down two hundred pounds to relieve a +distressed fellow-creature; why he would rob, but for the law and the +fear it fills him with, a workhouse child of its breakfast, as the saying +is--and has been heard to say that he would not trust his own father for +sixpence, and he can't imagine why such a thing as credit should be ever +given. I never heard a person give him a good word--stay, stay, yes! I +once heard an old parson, to whom I sold a Punch, say that he had the art +of receiving company gracefully and dismissing them without refreshment. +I don't wish to be too hard with him, and so let him make the most of +that compliment. Well! he manages to get on, whilst Jack is hanged; not +quite enviably, however; he has had his rubs, and pretty hard +ones--everybody knows he slunk from Waterloo, and occasionally checks him +with so doing; whilst he has been rejected by a woman--what a +mortification to the low pride of which the scoundrel has plenty! There's +a song about both circumstances, which may, perhaps, ring in his ears on +a dying bed. It's a funny kind of song, set to the old tune of the Lord- +Lieutenant or Deputy, and with it I will conclude my discourse, for I +really think it's past one." The jockey then, with a very tolerable +voice, sung the following song:-- + + + +THE JOCKEY'S SONG. + + + Now list to a ditty both funny and true!-- + Merrily moves the dance along-- + A ditty that tells of a coward and screw, + My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young. + + Sir Plume, though not liking a bullet at all,-- + Merrily moves the dance along-- + Had yet resolution to go to a _ball_, + My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young. + + "Woulez wous danser, mademoiselle?"-- + Merrily moves the dance along;-- + Said she, "Sir, to dance I should like very well," + My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young. + + They danc'd to the left, and they danc'd to the right,-- + Merrily moves the dance along;-- + And her troth the fair damsel bestow'd on the knight, + My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young. + + "Now what shall I fetch you, mademoiselle?"-- + Merrily moves the dance along;-- + Said she, "Sir, an ice I should like very well," + My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young. + + But the ice, when he'd got it, he instantly ate,-- + Merrily moves the dance along;-- + Although his poor partner was all in a fret, + My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young. + + He ate up the ice like a prudent young lord,-- + Merrily moves the dance along;-- + For he saw 't was the very last ice on the board,-- + My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young. + + "Now, when shall we marry?" the gentleman cried;-- + Merrily moves the dance along;-- + "Sir, get you to Jordan," the damsel replied, + My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young. + + "I never will wed with the pitiful elf"-- + Merrily moves the dance along-- + "Who ate up the ice which I wanted myself," + My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young. + + "I'd pardon your backing from red Waterloo,"-- + Merrily moves the dance along-- + "But I never will wed with a coward and screw," + My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII + + +The Church. + +The next morning I began to think of departing; I had sewed up the money +which I had received for the horse in a portion of my clothing, where I +entertained no fears for its safety, with the exception of a small sum in +notes, gold, and silver, which I carried in my pocket. Ere departing, +however, I determined to stroll about and examine the town, and observe +more particularly the humours of the fair than I had hitherto an +opportunity of doing. The town, when I examined it, offered no object +worthy of attention but its church--an edifice of some antiquity; under +the guidance of an old man, who officiated as sexton, I inspected its +interior attentively, occasionally conversing with my guide, who, +however, seemed much more disposed to talk about horses than the church. +"No good horses in the fair this time, measter," said he; "none but one +brought hither by a chap whom nobody knows, and bought by a foreigneering +man, who came here with Jack Dale. The horse fetched a good swinging +price, which is said, however, to be much less than its worth; for the +horse is a regular clipper; not such a one, 'tis said, has been seen in +the fair for several summers. Lord Whitefeather says that he believes +the fellow who brought him to be a highwayman, and talks of having him +taken up, but Lord Whitefeather is only in a rage because he could not +get him for himself. The chap would not sell it to un; Lord Screw wanted +to beat him down, and the chap took huff, said he wouldn't sell it to him +at no price, and accepted the offer of the foreigneering man, or of Jack, +who was his 'terpreter, and who scorned to higgle about such a hanimal, +because Jack is a gentleman, though bred a dickey-boy, whilst t'other, +though bred a lord, is a screw and a whitefeather. Every one says the +cove was right, and I says so too; I likes spirit, and if the cove were +here, and in your place, measter, I would invite him to drink a pint of +beer. Good horses are scarce now, measter, ay, and so are good men, +quite a different set from what there were when I was young; that was the +time for men and horses. Lord bless you, I know all the breeders about +here; they are not a bad set, and they breed a very fairish set of +horses, but they are not like what their fathers were, nor are their +horses like their fathers' horses. Now there is Mr. --- the great +breeder, a very fairish man, with very fairish horses; but, Lord bless +you, he's nothing to what his father was, nor his steeds to his father's; +I ought to know, for I was at the school here with his father, and +afterwards for many a year helped him to get up his horses; that was when +I was young, measter--those were the days. You look at that monument, +measter," said he, as I stopped and looked attentively at a monument on +the southern side of the church near the altar; "that was put up for a +rector of this church, who lived a long time ago, in Oliver's time, and +was ill-treated and imprisoned by Oliver and his men; you will see all +about it on the monument. There was a grand battle fought nigh this +place, between Oliver's men and the Royal party, and the Royal party had +the worst of it, as I'm told they generally had; and Oliver's men came +into the town, and did a great deal of damage, and ill-treated the +people. I can't remember anything about the matter myself, for it +happened just one hundred years before I was born, but my father was +acquainted with an old countryman, who lived not many miles from here, +who said he remembered perfectly well the day of the battle; that he was +a boy at the time, and was working in a field near the place where the +battle was fought; and heard shouting, and noise of firearms, and also +the sound of several balls, which fell in the field near him. Come this +way, measter, and I will show you some remains of that day's field." +Leaving the monument, on which was inscribed an account of the life and +sufferings of the Royalist Rector of Horncastle, I followed the sexton to +the western end of the church, where, hanging against the wall, were a +number of scythes stuck in the ends of poles. "Those are the weapons, +measter," said the sexton, "which the great people put into the hands of +the country folks, in order that they might use them against Oliver's +men; ugly weapons enough; however, Oliver's men won, and Sir Jacob Ashley +and his party were beat. And a rare time Oliver and his men had of it, +till Oliver died, when the other party got the better, not by fighting, +'tis said, but through a General Monk, who turned sides. Ah, the old +fellow that my father knew, said he well remembered the time when General +Monk went over and proclaimed Charles the Second. Bonfires were lighted +everywhere, oxen roasted, and beer drunk by pailfuls; the country folks +were drunk with joy, and something else; sung scurvy songs about Oliver +to the tune of Barney Banks, and pelted his men, wherever they found +them, with stones and dirt." "The more ungrateful scoundrels they," said +I. "Oliver and his men fought the battle of English independence against +a wretched king and corrupt lords. Had I been living at the time, I +should have been proud to be a trooper of Oliver." "You would, measter, +would you? Well, I never quarrels with the opinions of people who come +to look at the church, and certainly independence is a fine thing. I +like to see a chap of an independent spirit, and if I were now to see the +cove that refused to sell his horse to my Lord Screw and Whitefeather, +and let Jack Dale have him, I would offer to treat him to a pint of +beer--e'es, I would, verily. Well, measter, you have now seen the +church, and all there's in it worth seeing--so I'll just lock up, and go +and finish digging the grave I was about when you came, after which I +must go into the fair to see how matters are going on. Thank ye, +measter," said he, as I put something into his hand; "thank ye kindly; +'tis not every one who gives me a shilling now-a-days who comes to see +the church, but times are very different from what they were when I was +young; I was not sexton then, but something better; helped Mr. --- with +his horses, and got many a broad crown. Those were the days, measter, +both for men and horses--and I say, measter, if men and horses were so +much better when I was young than they are now, what, I wonder, must they +have been in the time of Oliver and his men?" + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV + + +An Old Acquaintance. + +Leaving the church, I strolled through the fair, looking at the horses, +listening to the chaffering of the buyers and sellers, and occasionally +putting in a word of my own, which was not always received with much +deference; suddenly, however, on a whisper arising that I was the young +cove who had brought the wonderful horse to the fair which Jack Dale had +bought for the foreigneering man, I found myself an object of the +greatest attention; those who had before replied with stuff! and +nonsense! to what I said, now listened with the greatest eagerness to any +nonsense I wished to utter, and I did not fail to utter a great deal; +presently, however, becoming disgusted with the beings about me, I forced +my way, not very civilly, through my crowd of admirers; and passing +through an alley and a back street, at last reached an outskirt of the +fair, where no person appeared to know me. Here I stood, looking +vacantly on what was going on, musing on the strange infatuation of my +species, who judge of a person's words, not from their intrinsic merit, +but from the opinion--generally an erroneous one--which they have formed +of the person. From this reverie I was roused by certain words which +sounded near me, uttered in a strange tone, and in a strange cadence--the +words were, "them that finds, wins; and them that can't find, loses." +Turning my eyes in the direction from which the words proceeded, I saw +six or seven people, apparently all countrymen, gathered round a person +standing behind a tall white table of very small compass. "What!" said +I, "the thimble-engro of --- Fair here at Horncastle." Advancing nearer, +however, I perceived that though the present person was a thimble-engro, +he was a very different one from my old acquaintance of --- Fair. The +present one was a fellow about half-a-foot taller than the other. He had +a long, haggard, wild face, and was dressed in a kind of jacket, +something like that of a soldier, with dirty hempen trousers, and with a +foreign-looking peaked hat on his head. He spoke with an accent +evidently Irish, and occasionally changed the usual thimble formule, +"them that finds wins, and them that can't--och, sure!--they loses;" +saying also frequently, "your honour," instead of "my lord." I observed, +on drawing nearer, that he handled the pea and thimble with some +awkwardness, like that which might be expected from a novice in the +trade. He contrived, however, to win several shillings, for he did not +seem to play for gold, from "their honours." Awkward, as he was, he +evidently did his best, and never flung a chance away by permitting any +one to win. He had just won three shillings from a farmer, who, incensed +at his loss, was calling him a confounded cheat, and saying that he would +play no more, when up came my friend of the preceding day, Jack, the +jockey. This worthy, after looking at the thimble-man a moment or two, +with a peculiarly crafty glance, cried out, as he clapped down a shilling +on the table, "I will stand you, old fellow!" "Them that finds wins; and +them that can't--och, sure!--they loses," said the thimble-man. The game +commenced, and Jack took up the thimble without finding the pea; another +shilling was produced, and lost in the same manner; "this is slow work," +said Jack, banging down a guinea on the table; "can you cover that, old +fellow?" The man of the thimble looked at the gold, and then at him who +produced it, and scratched his head. "Come, cover that, or I shall be +off," said the jockey. "Och, sure, my lord!--no, I mean your honour--no, +sure, your lordship," said the other, "if I covers it at all, it must be +with silver, for divil a bit of gold have I by me." "Well, then, produce +the value in silver," said the jockey, "and do it quickly, for I can't be +staying here all day." The thimble-man hesitated, looked at Jack with a +dubious look, then at the gold, and then scratched his head. There was +now a laugh amongst the surrounders, which evidently nettled the fellow, +who forthwith thrust his hand into his pocket, and pulling out all his +silver treasure, just contrived to place the value of the guinea on the +table. "Them that finds wins, and them that can't find--_loses_," +interrupted Jack, lifting up a thimble, out of which rolled a pea. +"There, paddy, what do you think of that?" said he, seizing the heap of +silver with one hand, whilst he pocketed the guinea with the other. The +thimble-engro stood, for some time, like one transfixed, his eyes glaring +wildly, now at the table, and now at his successful customers; at last he +said, "Arrah, sure, master!--no, I manes my lord--you are not going to +ruin a poor boy!" "Ruin you!" said the other; "what! by winning a +guinea's change? a pretty small dodger you--if you have not sufficient +capital, why do you engage in so deep a trade as thimbling? come, will +you stand another game?" "Och, sure, master, no! the twenty shillings +and one which you have cheated me of were all I had in the world." +"Cheated you," said Jack, "say that again, and I will knock you down." +"Arrah! sure, master, you knows that the pea under the thimble was not +mine; here is mine, master; now give me back my money." "A likely +thing," said Jack; "no, no, I know a trick worth two or three of that; +whether the pea was yours or mine, you will never have your twenty +shillings and one again; and if I have ruined you, all the better; I'd +gladly ruin all such villains as you, who ruin poor men with your dirty +tricks, whom you would knock down and rob on the road, if you had but +courage; not that I mean to keep your shillings, with the exception of +the two you cheated from me, which I'll keep. A scramble, boys! a +scramble!" said he, flinging up all the silver into the air, with the +exception of the two shillings; and a scramble there instantly was, +between the rustics who had lost their money and the urchins who came +running up; the poor thimble-engro tried likewise to have his share; and +though he flung himself down, in order to join more effectually in the +scramble, he was unable to obtain a single sixpence; and having in his +rage given some of his fellow-scramblers a cuff or two, he was set upon +by the boys and country fellows, and compelled to make an inglorious +retreat with his table, which had been flung down in the scuffle, and had +one of its legs broken. As he retired, the rabble hooted, and Jack, +holding up in derision the pea with which he had outmanoeuvred him, +exclaimed, "I always carry this in my pocket in order to be a match for +vagabonds like you." + +The tumult over, Jack gone, and the rabble dispersed, I followed the +discomfited adventurer at a distance, who, leaving the town, went slowly +on, carrying his dilapidated piece of furniture; till coming to an old +wall by the roadside, he placed it on the ground, and sat down, seemingly +in deep despondency, holding his thumb to his mouth. Going nearly up to +him, I stood still, whereupon he looked up, and perceiving I was looking +steadfastly at him, he said, in an angry tone, "Arrah! what for are you +staring at me so? By my shoul, I think you are one of the thaives who +are after robbing me. I think I saw you among them, and if I were only +sure of it, I would take the liberty of trying to give you a big bating." +"You have had enough of trying to give people a beating," said I; "you +had better be taking your table to some skilful carpenter to get it +repaired. He will do it for sixpence." "Divil a sixpence did you and +your thaives leave me," said he; "and if you do not take yourself off, +joy, I will be breaking your ugly head with the foot of it." "Arrah, +Murtagh!" said I, "would ye be breaking the head of your friend and +scholar, to whom you taught the blessed tongue of Oilien nan Naomha, in +exchange for a pack of cards?" Murtagh, for he it was, gazed at me for a +moment with a bewildered look; then, with a gleam of intelligence in his +eye, he said, "Shorsha! no, it can't be--yes, by my faith it is!" Then, +springing up, and seizing me by the hand, he said, "Yes, by the powers, +sure enough it is Shorsha agra! Arrah, Shorsha! where have you been this +many a day? Sure, you are not one of the spalpeens who are after robbing +me?" "Not I," I replied, "but I saw all that happened. Come, you must +not take matters so to heart; cheer up; such things will happen in +connection with the trade you have taken up." "Sorrow befall the trade, +and the thief who taught it me," said Murtagh; "and yet the trade is not +a bad one, if I only knew more of it, and had some one to help and back +me. Och! the idea of being cheated and bamboozled by that one-eyed thief +in the horseman's dress." "Let bygones be bygones, Murtagh," said I; "it +is no use grieving for the past; sit down, and let us have a little +pleasant gossip. Arrah, Murtagh! when I saw you sitting under the wall, +with your thumb to your mouth, it brought to my mind tales which you used +to tell me all about Finn-ma-Coul. You have not forgotten Finn-ma-Coul, +Murtagh, and how he sucked wisdom out of his thumb." "Sorrow a bit have +I forgot about him, Shorsha," said Murtagh, as we sat down together, "nor +what you yourself told me about the snake. Arrah, Shorsha! what ye told +me about the snake, bates anything I ever told you about Finn. Ochone, +Shorsha! perhaps you will be telling me about the snake once more? I +think the tale would do me good, and I have need of comfort, God knows, +ochone!" Seeing Murtagh in such a distressed plight, I forthwith told +him over again the tale of the snake, in precisely the same words as I +have related it in the first part of this history. After which, I said, +"Now, Murtagh, tit for tat; ye will be telling me one of the old stories +of Finn-ma-Coul." "Och, Shorsha! I haven't heart enough," said Murtagh. +"Thank you for your tale, but it makes me weep; it brings to my mind +Dungarvon times of old--I mean the times we were at school together." +"Cheer up, man," said I, "and let's have the story, and let it be about +Ma-Coul and the salmon and his thumb." "Arrah, Shorsha! I can't. Well, +to oblige you, I'll give it you. Well, you know Ma-Coul was an exposed +child, and came floating over the salt sea in a chest which was cast +ashore at Veintry Bay. In the corner of that bay was a castle, where +dwelt a giant and his wife, very respectable and decent people, and this +giant, taking his morning walk along the bay, came to the place where the +child had been cast ashore in his box. Well, the giant looked at the +child, and being filled with compassion for his exposed state, took the +child up in his box, and carried him home to his castle, where he and his +wife, being dacent respectable people, as I telled ye before, fostered +the child and took care of him, till he became old enough to go out to +service and gain his livelihood, when they bound him out apprentice to +another giant, who lived in a castle up the country, at some distance +from the bay. + +"This giant, whose name was Darmod David Odeen, was not a respectable +person at all, but a big old vagabond. He was twice the size of the +other giant, who, though bigger than any man, was not a big giant; for, +as there are great and small men, so there are great and small giants--I +mean some are small when compared with the others. Well, Finn served +this giant a considerable time, doing all kinds of hard and unreasonable +service for him, and receiving all kinds of hard words, and many a hard +knock and kick to boot--sorrow befall the old vagabond who could thus ill- +treat a helpless foundling. It chanced that one day the giant caught a +salmon, near a salmon-leap upon his estate--for, though a big ould +blackguard, he was a person of considerable landed property, and high +sheriff for the county Cork. Well, the giant brings home the salmon by +the gills, and delivers it to Finn, telling him to roast it for the +giant's dinner; 'but take care, ye young blackguard,' he added, 'that in +roasting it--and I expect ye to roast it well--you do not let a blister +come upon its nice satin skin, for if ye do, I will cut the head off your +shoulders.' 'Well,' thinks Finn, 'this is a hard task; however, as I +have done many hard tasks for him, I will try and do this too, though I +was never set to do anything yet half so difficult.' So he prepared his +fire, and put his gridiron upon it, and lays the salmon fairly and softly +upon the gridiron, and then he roasts it, turning it from one side to the +other just in the nick of time, before the soft satin skin could be +blistered. However, on turning it over the eleventh time--and twelve +would have settled the business--he found he had delayed a little bit of +time too long in turning it over, and that there was a small, tiny +blister on the soft outer skin. Well, Finn was in a mighty panic, +remembering the threats of the ould giant; however, he did not lose +heart, but clapped his thumb upon the blister in order to smooth it down. +Now the salmon, Shorsha, was nearly done, and the flesh thoroughly hot, +so Finn's thumb was scalt, and he, clapping it to his mouth, sucked it, +in order to draw out the pain, and in a moment--hubbuboo!--became imbued +with all the wisdom of the world. + +_Myself_. Stop, Murtagh! stop! + +_Murtagh_. All the witchcraft, Shorsha. + +_Myself_. How wonderful! + +_Murtagh_. Was it not, Shorsha? The salmon, do you see, was a fairy +salmon. + +_Myself_. What a strange coincidence! + +_Murtagh_. A what, Shorsha? + +_Myself_. Why, that the very same tale should be told of Finn-ma-Coul, +which is related of Sigurd Fafnisbane. + +"What thief was that, Shorsha?" + +"Thief! 'Tis true, he took the treasure of Fafnir. Sigurd was the hero +of the North, Murtagh, even as Finn is the great hero of Ireland. He, +too, according to one account, was an exposed child, and came floating in +a casket to a wild shore, where he was suckled by a hind, and afterwards +found and fostered by Mimir, a fairy blacksmith; he, too, sucked wisdom +from a burn. According to the Edda, he burnt his finger whilst feeling +of the heart of Fafnir, which he was roasting, and putting it into his +mouth in order to suck out the pain, became imbued with all the wisdom of +the world, the knowledge of the language of birds, and what not. I have +heard you tell the tale of Finn a dozen times in the blessed days of old, +but its identity with the tale of Sigurd never occurred to me till now. +It is true, when I knew you of old, I had never read the tale of Sigurd, +and have since almost dismissed matters of Ireland from my mind; but as +soon as you told me again about Finn's burning his finger, the +coincidence struck me. I say, Murtagh, the Irish owe much to the Danes--" + +"Devil a bit, Shorsha, do they owe to the thaives, except many a bloody +bating and plundering, which they never paid them back. Och, Shorsha! +you, edicated in ould Ireland, to say that the Irish owes anything good +to the plundering villains--the Siol Loughlin." + +"They owe them half their traditions, Murtagh, and amongst others, Finn- +ma-Coul and the burnt finger; and if ever I publish the Loughlin songs, +I'll tell the world so." + +"But, Shorsha, the world will never believe ye--to say nothing of the +Irish part of it." + +"Then the world, Murtagh--to say nothing of the Irish part of it--will be +a fool, even as I have often thought it; the grand thing, Murtagh, is to +be able to believe oneself, and respect oneself. How few whom the world +believes believe and respect themselves." + +"Och, Shorsha! shall I go on with the tale of Finn?" + +"I'd rather you should not, Murtagh; I know all about it already." + +"Then why did you bother me to tell it at first, Shorsha? Och, it was +doing my ownself good, and making me forget my own sorrowful state, when +ye interrupted me with your thaives of Danes! Och, Shorsha! let me tell +you how Finn, by means of sucking his thumb, and the witchcraft he +imbibed from it, contrived to pull off the arm of the ould wagabone, +Darmod David Odeen, whilst shaking hands with him--for Finn could do no +feat of strength without sucking his thumb, Shorsha, as Conan the Bald +told the son of Oisin in the song which I used to sing ye in Dungarvon +times of old;" and here Murtagh repeated certain Irish words to the +following effect:-- + + "O little the foolish words I heed + O Oisin's son, from thy lips which come; + No strength were in Finn for valorous deed, + Unless to the gristle he suck'd his thumb." + +"Enough is as good as a feast, Murtagh, I am no longer in the cue for +Finn. I would rather hear your own history. Now tell us, man, all that +has happened to ye since Dungarvon times of old?" + +"Och, Shorsha, it would be merely bringing all my sorrows back upon me!" + +"Well, if I know all your sorrows, perhaps I shall be able to find a help +for them. I owe you much, Murtagh; you taught me Irish, and I will do +all I can to help you." + +"Why, then, Shorsha, I'll tell ye my history. Here goes!" + + + + +CHAPTER XLV + + +Murtagh's Tale. + +"Well, Shorsha, about a year and a half after you left us--and a +sorrowful hour for us it was when ye left us, losing, as we did, your +funny stories of your snake--and the battles of your military--they sent +me to Paris and Salamanca, in order to make a saggart of me." + +"Pray excuse me," said I, "for interrupting you, but what kind of place +is Salamanca?" + +"Divil a bit did I ever see of it, Shorsha!" + +"Then why did ye say ye were sent there? Well, what kind of place is +Paris? Not that I care much about Paris." + +"Sorrow a bit did I ever see of either them, Shorsha, for no one sent me +to either. When we says at home a person is going to Paris and +Salamanca, it manes that he is going abroad to study to be a saggart, +whether he goes to them places or not. No, I never saw either--bad luck +to them--I was shipped away from Cork up the straits to a place called +Leghorn, from which I was sent to--to a religious house, where I was to +be instructed in saggarting till they had made me fit to cut a dacent +figure in Ireland. We had a long and tedious voyage, Shorsha; not so +tedious, however, as it would have been had I been fool enough to lave +your pack of cards behind me, as the thaif, my brother Denis, wanted to +persuade me to do, in order that he might play with them himself. With +the cards I managed to have many a nice game with the sailors, winning +from them ha'pennies and sixpences until the captain said I was ruining +his men, and keeping them from their duty; and, being a heretic and a +Dutchman, swore that unless I gave over he would tie me up to the mast +and give me a round dozen. This threat obliged me to be more on my +guard, though I occasionally contrived to get a game at night, and to win +sixpennies and ha'pennies. + +"We reached Leghorn at last, and glad I was to leave the ship and the +master, who gave me a kick as I was getting over the side, bad luck to +the dirty heretic for kicking a son of the church, for I have always been +a true son of the church, Shorsha, and never quarrelled with it unless it +interfered with me in my playing at cards. I left Leghorn with certain +muleteers, with whom I played at cards at the baiting-houses, and who +speedily won from me all the ha'pennies and sixpences I had won from the +sailors. I got my money's worth, however, for I learnt from the +muleteers all kind of quaint tricks upon the cards, which I knew nothing +of before; so I did not grudge them what they chated me of, and when we +parted we did so in kindness on both sides. On getting to--I was +received into the religious house for Irishes. It was the Irish house, +Shorsha, into which I was taken, for I do not wish ye to suppose that I +was in the English religious house which there is in that city, in which +a purty set are educated, and in which purty doings are going on if all +tales be true. + +"In this Irish house I commenced my studies, learning to sing and to read +the Latin prayers of the church. 'Faith, Shorsha, many's the sorrowful +day I passed in that house learning the prayers and litanies, being half- +starved, with no earthly diversion at all, at all; until I took the cards +out of my chest and began instructing in card-playing the chum which I +had with me in my cell; then I had plenty of diversion along with him +during the times when I was not engaged in singing, and chanting, and +saying the prayers of the church; there was, however, some drawback in +playing with my chum, for though he was very clever in learning, divil a +sixpence had he to play with, in which respect he was like myself, the +master who taught him, who had lost all my money to the muleteers who +taught me the tricks upon the cards; by degrees, however, it began to be +noised about the religious house that Murtagh, from Hibrodary, {1} had a +pack of cards with which he played with his chum in the cell; whereupon +other scholars of the religious house came to me, some to be taught and +others to play, so with some I played, and others I taught, but neither +to those who could play, or to those who could not, did I teach the +elegant tricks which I learnt from the muleteers. Well, the scholars +came to me for the sake of the cards, and the porter and cook of the +religious house, who could both play very well, came also; at last I +became tired of playing for nothing, so I borrowed a few bits of silver +from the cook, and played against the porter, and by means of my tricks I +won money from the porter, and then I paid the cook the bits of silver +which I had borrowed of him; and played with him, and won a little of his +money, which I let him win back again, as I had lived long enough in a +religious house to know that it is dangerous to take money from the cook. +In a little time, Shorsha, there was scarcely anything going on in the +house but card-playing; the almoner played with me, and so did the sub- +rector, and I won money from both; not too much, however, lest they +should tell the rector, who had the character of a very austere man, and +of being a bit of a saint; however, the thief of a porter, whose money I +had won, informed the rector of what was going on, and one day the rector +sent for me into his private apartment, and gave me so long and pious a +lecture upon the heinous sin of card-playing, that I thought I should +sink into the ground; after about half-an-hour's inveighing against card- +playing, he began to soften his tone, and with a long sigh told me that +at one time of his life he had been a young man himself, and had +occasionally used the cards; he then began to ask me some questions about +card-playing, which questions I afterwards found were to pump from me +what I knew about the science. After a time he asked me whether I had +got my cards with me, and on my telling him I had, he expressed a wish to +see them, whereupon I took the pack out of my pocket, and showed it to +him; he looked at it very attentively, and at last, giving another deep +sigh, he said, that though he was nearly weaned from the vanities of the +world, he had still an inclination to see whether he had entirely lost +the little skill which at one time he possessed. When I heard him speak +in this manner, I told him that if his reverence was inclined for a game +of cards, I should be very happy to play one with him; scarcely had I +uttered these words than he gave a third sigh, and looked so very much +like a saint that I was afraid he was going to excommunicate me. Nothing +of the kind, however, for presently he gets up and locks the door, then +sitting down at the table, he motioned me to do the same, which I did, +and in five minutes we were playing at cards, his reverence and myself. + +"I soon found that his reverence knew quite as much about card-playing as +I did. Divil a trick was there connected with cards that his reverence +did not seem awake to. As, however, we were not playing for money, this +circumstance did not give me much uneasiness; so we played game after +game for two hours, when his reverence, having business, told me I might +go, so I took up my cards, make my obedience, and left him. The next day +I had other games with him, and so on for a very long time, still playing +for nothing. At last his reverence grew tired of playing for nothing, +and proposed that we should play for money. Now, I had no desire to play +with his reverence for money, as I knew that doing so would bring on a +quarrel. As long as we were playing for nothing, I could afford to let +his reverence use what tricks he pleased; but if we played for money, I +couldn't do so. If he played his tricks, I must play mine, and use every +advantage to save my money; and there was one I possessed which his +reverence did not. The cards being my own, I had put some delicate +little marks on the trump cards, just at the edges, so that when I dealt, +by means of a little sleight of hand, I could deal myself any trump card +I pleased. But I wished, as I said before, to have no dealings for money +with his reverence, knowing that he was master in the house, and that he +could lead me a dog of a life if I offended him, either by winning his +money, or not letting him win mine. So I told him I had no money to play +with, but the ould thief knew better; he knew that I was every day +winning money from the scholars, and the sub-rector, and the other people +of the house, and the ould thaif had determined to let me go on in that +way winning money, and then by means of his tricks, which he thought I +dare not resent, to win from me all my earnings--in a word, Shorsha, to +let me fill myself like a sponge, and then squeeze me for his own +advantage. So he made me play with him, and in less than three days came +on the quarrel; his reverence chated me, and I chated his reverence; the +ould thaif knew every trick that I knew, and one or two more; but in +daling out the cards I nicked his reverence; scarcely a trump did I ever +give him, Shorsha, and won his money purty freely. Och, it was a purty +quarrel! All the delicate names in the 'Newgate Calendar,' if ye ever +heard of such a book; all the hang-dog names in the Newgate histories, +and the lives of Irish rogues, did we call each other--his reverence and +I! Suddenly, however, putting out his hand, he seized the cards, saying, +'I will examine these cards, ye cheating scoundrel! for I believe there +are dirty marks on them, which ye have made in order to know the winning +cards.' 'Give me back my pack,' said I, 'or m'anam on Dioul if I be not +the death of ye!' His reverence, however, clapped the cards into his +pocket, and made the best of his way to the door, I hanging upon him. He +was a gross, fat man, but, like most fat men, deadly strong, so he forced +his way to the door, and, opening it, flung himself out, with me still +holding on him like a terrier dog on a big fat pig; then he shouts for +help, and in a little time I was secured and thrust into a lock-up room, +where I was left to myself. Here was a purty alteration. Yesterday I +was the idol of the religious house, thought more on than his reverence, +every one paying me court and wurtship, and wanting to play cards with +me, and to learn my tricks, and fed, moreover, on the tidbits of the +table; and to-day I was in a cell, nobody coming to look at me but the +blackguard porter who had charge of me, my cards taken from me, and with +nothing but bread and water to live upon. Time passed dreary enough for +a month, at the end of which time his reverence came to me, leaving the +porter just outside the door in order to come to his help should I be +violent; and then he read me a very purty lecture on my conduct, saying I +had turned the religious house topsy-turvy, and corrupted the scholars, +and that I was the cheat of the world, for that on inspecting the pack he +had discovered the dirty marks which I had made upon the trump cards for +to know them by. He said a great deal more to me, which is not worth +relating, and ended by telling me that he intended to let me out of +confinement next day, but that if ever I misconducted myself any more, he +would clap me in again for the rest of my life. I had a good mind to +call him an ould thaif, but the hope of getting out made me hold my +tongue, and the next day I was let out; and need enough I had to be let +out, for what with being alone, and living on bread and water, I was +becoming frighted, or, as the doctors call it, narvous. But when I was +out--oh, what a change I found in the religious house! no card-playing, +for it had been forbidden to the scholars, and there was now nothing +going on but reading and singing; divil a merry visage to be seen, but +plenty of prim airs and graces; but the case of the scholars, though bad +enough, was not half so bad as mine, for they could spake to each other, +whereas I could not have a word of conversation, for the ould thaif of a +rector had ordered them to send me to 'Coventry,' telling them that I was +a gambling cheat, with morals bad enough to corrupt a horse regiment; and +whereas they were allowed to divert themselves with going out, I was kept +reading and singing from morn till night. The only soul who was willing +to exchange a word with me was the cook, and sometimes he and I had a +little bit of discourse in a corner, and we condoled with each other, for +he liked the change in the religious house almost as little as myself; +but he told me that, for all the change below stairs, there was still +card-playing on above, for that the ould thaif of a rector, and the sub- +rector, and the almoner played at cards together, and that the rector won +money from the others--the almoner had told him so--and, moreover, that +the rector was the thaif of the world, and had once been kicked out of a +club-house at Dublin for cheating at cards, and after that circumstance +had apparently reformed and lived decently till the time when I came to +the religious house with my pack, but that the sight of that had brought +him back to his ould gambling. He told the cook, moreover, that the +rector frequently went out at night to the houses of the great clergy and +cheated at cards. + +"In this melancholy state, with respect to myself, things continued a +long time, when suddenly there was a report that his Holiness the Pope +intended to pay a visit to the religious house in order to examine into +its discipline. When I heard this I was glad, for I determined after the +Pope had done what he had come to do, to fall upon my knees before him, +and make a regular complaint of the treatment I had received, to tell him +of the cheating at cards of the rector, and to beg him to make the ould +thaif give me back my pack again. So the day of the visit came, and his +Holiness made his appearance with his attendants, and, having looked over +the religious house, he went into the rector's room with the rector, the +sub-rector, and the almoner. I intended to have waited until his +Holiness came out, but finding he stayed a long time I thought I would +e'en go into him, so I went up to the door without anybody observing +me--his attendants being walking about the corridor--and opening it I +slipped in, and there what do you think I saw? Why, his Holiness the +Pope, and his reverence the rector, and the sub-rector, and the almoner +seated at cards; and the ould thaif of a rector was dealing out the cards +which ye had given me, Shorsha, to his Holiness the Pope, the sub-rector, +the almoner, and himself." + +In this part of his history I interrupted Murtagh, saying that I was +afraid he was telling untruths, and that it was highly improbable that +the Pope would leave the Vatican to play cards with Irish at their +religious house, and that I was sure, if on his, Murtagh's authority, I +were to tell the world so, the world would never believe it. + +"Then the world, Shorsha, would be a fool, even as you were just now +saying you had frequently believed it to be; the grand thing, Shorsha, is +to be able to believe oneself; if ye can do that, it matters very little +whether the world believe ye or no. But a purty thing for you and the +world to stickle at the Pope's playing at cards at a religious house of +Irish; och! if I were to tell you and the world, what the Pope has been +sometimes at, at the religious house of English thaives, I would excuse +you and the world for turning up your eyes. However, I wish to say +nothing against the Pope. I am a son of the church, and if the Pope +don't interfere with my cards, divil a bit will I have to say against +him; but I saw the Pope playing, or about to play, with the pack which +had been taken from me, and when I told the Pope, the Pope did not--Ye +had better let me go on with my history, Shorsha; whether you or the +world believe it or not, I am sure it is quite as true as your tale of +the snake, or saying that Finn got his burnt finger from the thaives of +Loughlin; and whatever you may say, I am sure the world will think so +too." + +I apologized to Murtagh for interrupting him, and telling him that his +history, whether true or not, was infinitely diverting, begged him to +continue it. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI + + +Murtagh's Story continued--The Priest, Exorcist, and Thimble-engro--How +to Check a Rebellion. + +I was telling ye, Shorsha, when ye interrupted me, that I found the Pope, +the rector, the sub-rector, and the almoner seated at the table, the +rector with my pack of cards in his hands, about to deal out to the Pope +and the rest, not forgetting himself, for whom he intended all the trump- +cards, no doubt. No sooner did they perceive me than they seemed taken +all aback; but the rector, suddenly starting up with the cards in his +hand, asked me what I did there, threatening to have me well disciplined +if I did not go about my business; 'I am come for my pack,' said I, 'ye +ould thaif, and to tell his Holiness how I have been treated by ye;' then +going down on my knees before his Holiness, I said, 'Arrah, now, your +Holiness! will ye not see justice done to a poor boy who has been sadly +misused? The pack of cards which that old ruffian has in his hand are my +cards, which he has taken from me, in order to chate with. Arrah! don't +play with him, your Holiness, for he'll only chate ye--there are dirty +marks upon the cards which bear the trumps, put there in order to know +them by; and the ould thaif in daling out will give himself all the good +cards, and chate ye of the last farthing in your pocket; so let them be +taken from him, your Holiness, and given back to me; and order him to +lave the room, and then, if your Holiness be for an honest game, don't +think I am the boy to baulk ye. I'll take the old ruffian's place, and +play with ye till evening, and all night besides, and divil an advantage +will I take of the dirty marks, though I know them all, having placed +them on the cards myself.' I was going on in this way when the ould +thaif of a rector, flinging down the cards, made at me as if to kick me +out of the room, whereupon I started up and said, 'If ye are for kicking, +sure two can play at that;' and then I kicked at his reverence, and his +reverence at me, and there was a regular scrimmage between us, which +frightened the Pope, who, getting up, said some words which I did not +understand, but which the cook afterwards told me were, 'English +extravagance, and this is the second edition;' for it seems that, a +little time before, his Holiness had been frightened in St. Peter's +Church by the servant of an English family, which those thaives of the +English religious house had been endeavouring to bring over to the +Catholic faith, and who didn't approve of their being converted. Och! +his Holiness did us all sore injustice to call us English, and to +confound our house with the other; for however dirty our house might be, +our house was a clane house compared with the English house, and we +honest people compared with those English thaives. Well, his Holiness +was frighted, and the almoner ran out, and brought in his Holiness's +attendants, and they laid hold of me, but I struggled hard, and said, 'I +will not go without my pack; arrah, your Holiness! make them give me my +pack, which Shorsha gave me in Dungarvon times of old;' but my struggles +were of no use. I was pulled away and put out in the ould dungeon, and +his Holiness went away sore frighted, crossing himself much, and never +returned again. + +"In the old dungeon I was fastened to the wall by a chain, and there I +was disciplined once every other day for the first three weeks, and then +I was left to myself, and my chain, and hunger; and there I sat in the +dungeon, sometimes screeching, sometimes hallooing, for I soon became +frighted, having nothing in the cell to divert me. At last the cook +found his way to me by stealth, and comforted me a little, bringing me +tidbits out of the kitchen; and he visited me again and again--not often, +however, for he dare only come when he could steal away the key from the +custody of the thaif of a porter. I was three years in the dungeon, and +should have gone mad but for the cook, and his words of comfort, and his +tidbits, and nice books which he brought me out of the library, which +were the 'Calendars of Newgate,' and the 'Lives of Irish Rogues and +Raparees,' the only English books in the library. However, at the end of +three years, the ould thaif of a rector, wishing to look at them books, +missed them from the library, and made a perquisition about them, and the +thaif of a porter said that he shouldn't wonder if I had them; saying +that he had once seen me reading; and then the rector came with others to +my cell, and took my books from me, from under my straw, and asked me how +I came by them; and on my refusal to tell, they disciplined me again till +the blood ran down my back; and making more perquisition they at last +accused the cook of having carried the books to me, and not denying, he +was given warning to leave next day, but he left that night, and took me +away with him; for he stole the key, and came to me and cut my chain +through, and then he and I escaped from the religious house through a +window--the cook with a bundle, containing what things he had. No sooner +had we got out than the honest cook gave me a little bit of money and a +loaf, and told me to follow a way which he pointed out, which he said +would lead to the sea; and then, having embraced me after the Italian +way, he left me, and I never saw him again. So I followed the way which +the cook pointed out, and in two days reached a seaport called Chiviter +Vik, terribly foot-foundered, and there I met a sailor who spoke Irish, +and who belonged to a vessel just ready to sail for France; and the +sailor took me on board his vessel, and said I was his brother, and the +captain gave me a passage to a place in France called Marseilles; and +when I got there, the captain and sailor got a little money for me and a +passport, and I travelled across the country towards a place they +directed me to called Bayonne, from which they said I might, perhaps, get +to Ireland. Coming, however, to a place called Pau, all my money being +gone, I enlisted into a regiment called the Army of the Faith, which was +going into Spain, for the King of Spain had been dethroned and imprisoned +by his own subjects, as perhaps you may have heard; and the King of +France, who was his cousin, was sending an army to help him, under the +command of his own son, whom the English called Prince Hilt, because when +he was told that he was appointed to the command, he clapped his hand on +the hilt of his sword. So I enlisted into the regiment of the Faith, +which was made up of Spaniards, many of them priests who had run out of +Spain, and broken Germans, and foot-foundered Irish, like myself. It was +said to be a blackguard regiment, that same regiment of the Faith; but, +'faith, I saw nothing blackguardly going on in it, for you would hardly +reckon card-playing and dominoes, and pitch and toss blackguardly, and I +saw nothing else in it. There was one thing in it which I disliked--the +priests drawing their Spanish knives occasionally, when they lost their +money. After we had been some time at Pau, the army of the Faith was +sent across the mountains into Spain, as the vanguard of the French; and +no sooner did the Spaniards see the Faith than they made a dash at it, +and the Faith ran away, myself along with it, and got behind the French +army, which told it to keep there, and the Faith did so, and followed the +French army, which soon scattered the Spaniards, and in the end placed +the king on his throne again. When the war was over the Faith was +disbanded; some of the foreigners, however, amongst whom I was one, were +put into a Guard regiment, and there I continued for more than a year. + +"One day, being at a place called the Escurial, I took stock, as the +tradesmen say, and found I possessed the sum of eighty dollars won by +playing at cards, for though I could not play so well with the foreign +cards as with the pack you gave me, Shorsha, I had yet contrived to win +money from the priests and soldiers of the Faith. Finding myself +possessed of such a capital, I determined to leave the service, and to +make the best of my way to Ireland; so I deserted, but coming in an evil +hour to a place they calls Torre Lodones, I found the priest playing at +cards with his parishioners. The sight of the cards made me stop, and +then, fool like, notwithstanding the treasure I had about me, I must wish +to play, so not being able to speak their language, I made signs to them +to let me play, and the priest and his thaives consented willingly; so I +sat down to cards with the priest and two of his parishioners, and in a +little time had won plenty of their money, but I had better never have +done any such thing, for suddenly the priest and all his parishioners set +upon me and bate me, and took from me all I had, and cast me out of the +village more dead than alive. Och! it's a bad village that, and if I had +known what it was I would have avoided it, or run straight through it, +though I saw all the card-playing in the world going on in it. There is +a proverb about it, as I was afterwards told, old as the time of the +Moors, which holds good to the present day--it is, that in Torre Lodones +there are twenty-four housekeepers, and twenty-five thieves, maning that +all the people are thaives, and the clergyman to boot, who is not +reckoned a housekeeper; and troth I found the clergyman the greatest +thaif of the lot. After being cast out of that village I travelled for +nearly a month, subsisting by begging tolerably well, for though most of +the Spanish are thaives, they are rather charitable; but though +charitable thaives they do not like their own being taken from them +without leave being asked, as I found to my cost; for on my entering a +garden near Seville, without leave, to take an orange, the labourer came +running up and struck me to the ground with a hatchet, giving me a big +wound in the arm. I fainted with loss of blood, and on reviving I found +myself in a hospital at Seville, to which the labourer and the people of +the village had taken me. I should have died of starvation in that +hospital had not some English people heard of me and come to see me; they +tended me with food till I was cured, and then paid my passage on board a +ship to London, to which place the ship carried me. + +"And now I was in London with five shillings in my pocket--all I had in +the world--and that did not last for long; and when it was gone I begged +in the streets, but I did not get much by that, except a month's hard +labour in the correction-house; and when I came out I knew not what to +do, but thought I would take a walk in the country, for it was spring- +time, and the weather was fine, so I took a walk about seven miles from +London, and came to a place where a great fair was being held; and there +I begged, but got nothing but a halfpenny, and was thinking of going +farther, when I saw a man with a table, like that of mine, playing with +thimbles, as you saw me. I looked at the play, and saw him win money, +and run away, and hunted by constables more than once. I kept following +the man, and at last entered into conversation with him; and learning +from him that he was in want of a companion to help him, I offered to +help him if he would pay me; he looked at me from top to toe, and did not +wish at first to have anything to do with me, as he said my appearance +was against me. 'Faith, Shorsha, he had better have looked at home, for +his appearance was not much in his favour: he looked very much like a +Jew, Shorsha. However, he at last agreed to take me to be his companion, +or bonnet as he called it; and I was to keep a look-out, and let him know +when constables were coming, and to spake a good word for him +occasionally, whilst he was chating folks with his thimbles and his pea. +So I became his bonnet, and assisted him in the fair, and in many other +fairs beside; but I did not like my occupation much, or rather my master, +who, though not a big man, was a big thaif, and an unkind one, for do all +I could I could never give him pleasure; and he was continually calling +me fool and bogtrotter, and twitting me because I could not learn his +thaives' Latin, and discourse with him in it, and comparing me with +another acquaintance, or bit of a pal of his, whom he said he had parted +with in the fair, and of whom he was fond of saying all kinds of +wonderful things, amongst others, that he knew the grammar of all +tongues. At last, wearied with being twitted by him with not being able +to learn his thaives' Greek, I proposed that I should teach him Irish, +that we should spake it together when we had anything to say in secret. +To that he consented willingly; but, och! a purty hand he made with +Irish, 'faith, not much better than I did with his thaives' Hebrew. Then +my turn came, and I twitted him nicely with dulness, and compared him +with a pal that I had in ould Ireland, in Dungarvon times of yore, to +whom I teached Irish, telling him that he was the broth of a boy, and not +only knew the grammar of all human tongues, but the dialects of the +snakes besides; in fact, I tould him all about your own sweet self, +Shorsha, and many a dispute and quarrel had we together about our pals, +which was the cleverest fellow, his or mine. + +"Well, after having been wid him about two months, I quitted him without +noise, taking away one of his tables, and some peas and thimbles; and +that I did with a safe conscience, for he paid me nothing, and was not +over free with the meat and the drink, though I must say of him that he +was a clever fellow, and perfect master of his trade, by which he made a +power of money, and bating his not being able to learn Irish, and a +certain Jewish lisp which he had, a great master of his tongue, of which +he was very proud; so much so, that he once told me that when he had +saved a certain sum of money he meant to leave off the thimbling +business, and enter Parliament; into which, he said, he could get at any +time, through the interest of a friend of his, a Tory Peer--my Lord +Whitefeather, with whom, he said, he had occasionally done business. With +the table, and other things which I had taken, I commenced trade on my +own account, having contrived to learn a few of his tricks. My only +capital was the change for half-a-guinea, which he had once let fall, and +which I picked up, which was all I could ever get from him: for it was +impossible to stale any money from him, he was so awake, being up to all +the tricks of thaives, having followed the diving trade, as he called it, +for a considerable time. My wish was to make enough by my table to +enable me to return with credit to ould Ireland, where I had no doubt of +being able to get myself ordained as priest; and, in troth, +notwithstanding I was a beginner, and without any companion to help me, I +did tolerably well, getting my meat and drink, and increasing my small +capital, till I came to this unlucky place of Horncastle, where I was +utterly ruined by the thaif in the rider's dress. And now, Shorsha, I am +after telling you my history; perhaps you will now be telling me +something about yourself?" + +I told Murtagh all about myself that I deemed necessary to relate, and +then asked him what he intended to do; he repeated that he was utterly +ruined, and that he had no prospect before him but starving, or making +away with himself. I inquired "How much would take him to Ireland, and +establish him there with credit." "Five pounds," he answered, adding, +"but who in the world would be fool enough to lend me five pounds, unless +it be yourself, Shorsha, who, may be, have not got it; for when you told +me about yourself, you made no boast of the state of your affairs." "I +am not very rich," I replied, "but I think I can accommodate you with +what you want. I consider myself under great obligations to you, +Murtagh; it was you who instructed me in the language of Oilein nan +Naomha, which has been the foundation of all my acquisitions in +philology; without you, I should not have been what I am--Lavengro! which +signifies a philologist. Here is the money, Murtagh," said I, putting my +hand into my pocket, and taking out five pounds, "much good may it do +you." He took the money, stared at it, and then at me--"And you mane to +give me this, Shorsha?" "It is no longer mine to give," said I; "it is +yours." "And you give it me for the gratitude you bear me?" "Yes," said +I, "and for Dungarvon times of old." "Well, Shorsha," said he, "you are +a broth of a boy, and I'll take your benefaction--five pounds! och, +Jasus!" He then put the money in his pocket, and springing up, waved his +hat three times, uttering some old Irish cry; then, sitting down, he took +my hand, and said, "Sure, Shorsha, I'll be going thither; and when I get +there, it is turning over another leaf I will be; I have learnt a thing +or two abroad; I will become a priest; that's the trade, Shorsha! and I +will cry out for repale; that's the cry, Shorsha! and I'll be a fool no +longer." "And what will you do with your table?" said I. "'Faith, I'll +be taking it with me, Shorsha; and when I gets to Ireland, I'll get it +mended, and I will keep it in the house which I shall have; and when I +looks upon it, I will be thinking of all I have undergone." "You had +better leave it behind you," said I; "if you take it with you, you will, +perhaps, take up the thimble trade again before you get to Ireland, and +lose the money I am after giving you." "No fear of that, Shorsha; never +will I play on that table again, Shorsha, till I get it mended, which +shall not be till I am a priest, and have a house in which to place it." + +Murtagh and I then went into the town, where we had some refreshment +together, and then parted on our several ways. I heard nothing of him +for nearly a quarter of a century, when a person who knew him well, +coming from Ireland, and staying at my humble house, told me a great deal +about him. He reached Ireland in safety, soon reconciled himself with +his Church, and was ordained a priest; in the priestly office he +acquitted himself in a way very satisfactory, upon the whole, to his +superiors, having, as he frequently said, learned wisdom abroad. The +Popish Church never fails to turn to account any particular gift which +its servants may possess; and discovering soon that Murtagh was endowed +with considerable manual dexterity--proof of which he frequently gave at +cards, and at a singular game which he occasionally played at thimbles--it +selected him as a very fit person to play the part of exorcist; and +accordingly he travelled through a great part of Ireland, casting out +devils from people possessed, which he afterwards exhibited, sometimes in +the shape of rabbits, and occasionally birds and fishes. There is a holy +island in a lake in Ireland, to which the people resort at a particular +season of the year. Here Murtagh frequently attended, and it was here +that he performed a cure which will cause his name long to be remembered +in Ireland, delivering a possessed woman of two demons, which he +brandished aloft in his hands, in the shape of two large eels, and +subsequently hurled into the lake, amidst the shouts of an enthusiastic +multitude. Besides playing the part of an exorcist, he acted that of a +politician with considerable success; he attached himself to the party of +the sire of agitation--"the man of paunch," and preached and hallooed for +repeal with the loudest and best, as long as repeal was the cry; as soon, +however, as the Whigs attained the helm of Government, and the greater +part of the loaves and fishes--more politely termed the patronage of +Ireland--was placed at the disposition of the priesthood, the tone of +Murtagh, like that of the rest of his brother saggarts, was considerably +softened; he even went so far as to declare that politics were not +altogether consistent with sacerdotal duty; and resuming his exorcisms, +which he had for some time abandoned, he went to the Isle of Holiness, +and delivered a possessed woman of six demons in the shape of white mice. +He, however, again resumed the political mantle in the year 1848, during +the short period of the rebellion of the so-called Young Irelanders. The +priests, though they apparently sided with this party, did not approve of +it, as it was chiefly formed of ardent young men, fond of what they +termed liberty, and by no means admirers of priestly domination, being +mostly Protestants. Just before the outbreak of this rebellion, it was +determined between the priests and the ---, that this party should be +rendered comparatively innocuous by being deprived of the sinews of +war--in other words, certain sums of money which they had raised for +their enterprise. Murtagh was deemed the best qualified person in +Ireland to be entrusted with the delicate office of getting their money +from them. Having received his instructions, he invited the leaders to +his parsonage amongst the mountains, under pretence of deliberating with +them about what was to be done. They arrived there just before +nightfall, dressed in red, yellow, and green, the colours so dear to +enthusiastic Irishmen; Murtagh received them with great apparent +cordiality, and entered into a long discourse with them, promising them +the assistance of himself and order, and received from them a profusion +of thanks. After a time Murtagh, observing, in a jocular tone, that +consulting was dull work, proposed a game of cards, and the leaders, +though somewhat surprised, assenting, he went to a closet, and taking out +a pack of cards, laid it upon the table; it was a strange dirty pack, and +exhibited every mark of having seen very long service. On one of its +guests making some remarks on the "ancientness" of its appearance, +Murtagh observed that there was a very wonderful history attached to that +pack; it had been presented to him, he said, by a young gentleman, a +disciple of his, to whom, in Dungarvon times of yore, he had taught the +Irish language, and of whom he related some very extraordinary things; he +added that he, Murtagh, had taken it to ---, where it had once the +happiness of being in the hands of the Holy Father; by a great +misfortune, he did not say what, he had lost possession of it, and had +returned without it, but had some time since recovered it; a nephew of +his, who was being educated at--for a priest, having found it in a nook +of the college, and sent it to him. + +Murtagh and the leaders then played various games with this pack, more +especially one called by the initiated "blind hookey," the result being +that at the end of about two hours the leaders found they had lost one- +half of their funds; they now looked serious, and talked of leaving the +house, but Murtagh begging them to stay to supper, they consented. After +supper, at which the guests drank rather freely, Murtagh said that, as he +had not the least wish to win their money, he intended to give them their +revenge; he would not play at cards with them, he added, but at a funny +game of thimbles, at which they would be sure of winning back their own; +then going out, he brought in a table, tall and narrow, on which placing +certain thimbles and a pea, he proposed that they should stake whatever +they pleased on the almost certainty of finding the pea under the +thimbles. The leaders, after some hesitation, consented, and were at +first eminently successful, winning back the greater part of what they +had lost; after some time, however, Fortune, or rather Murtagh, turned +against them, and then, instead of leaving off, they doubled and trebled +their stakes, and continued doing so until they had lost nearly the whole +of their funds. Quite furious, they now swore that Murtagh had cheated +them, and insisted on having their property restored to them. Murtagh, +without a word of reply, went to the door, and shouting into the passage +something in Irish, the room was instantly filled with bogtrotters, each +at least six feet high, with a stout shillelah in his hand. Murtagh then +turning to his guests, asked them what they meant by insulting an +anointed priest; telling them that it was not for the likes of them to +avenge the wrongs of Ireland. "I have been clane mistaken in the whole +of ye," said he, "I supposed ye Irish, but have found, to my sorrow, that +ye are nothing of the kind; purty fellows to pretend to be Irish, when +there is not a word of Irish on the tongue of any of ye, divil a +ha'porth; the illigant young gentleman to whom I taught Irish, in +Dungarvon times of old, though not born in Ireland, has more Irish in him +than any ten of ye. He is the boy to avenge the wrongs of Ireland, if +ever foreigner is to do it." Then saying something to the bogtrotters, +they instantly cleared the room of the young Irelanders, who retired +sadly disconcerted; nevertheless, being very silly young fellows, they +hoisted the standard of rebellion; few, however, joining them, partly +because they had no money, and partly because the priests abused them +with might and main, their rebellion ended in a lamentable manner; +themselves being seized and tried, and though convicted, not deemed of +sufficient importance to be sent to the scaffold, where they might have +had the satisfaction of saying-- + + "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori." + +My visitor, after saying that of the money won, Murtagh retained a +considerable portion, that a part went to the hierarchy for what were +called church purposes, and that the--took the remainder, which it +employed in establishing a newspaper, in which the private characters of +the worthiest and most loyal Protestants in Ireland were traduced and +vilified, concluded his account by observing, that it was the common +belief that Murtagh, having by his services, ecclesiastical and +political, acquired the confidence of the priesthood and favour of the +Government, would, on the first vacancy, be appointed to the high office +of Popish Primate of Ireland. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII + + +Departure from Horncastle--Recruiting Sergeant--Kauloes and Lolloes. + +Leaving Horncastle I bent my steps in the direction of the east. I +walked at a brisk rate, and late in the evening reached a large town, +situate at the entrance of an extensive firth, or arm of the sea, which +prevented my farther progress eastward. Sleeping that night in the +suburbs of the town, I departed early next morning in the direction of +the south. A walk of about twenty miles brought me to another large +town, situated on a river, where I again turned towards the east. At the +end of the town I was accosted by a fiery-faced individual, somewhat +under the middle size, dressed as a recruiting sergeant. + +"Young man," said the recruiting sergeant, "you are just the kind of +person to serve the Honourable East India Company." + +"I had rather the Honourable Company should serve me," said I. + +"Of course, young man. Well, the Honourable East India Company shall +serve you--that's reasonable. Here, take this shilling; 'tis service- +money. The Honourable Company engages to serve you, and you the +Honourable Company; both parties shall be thus served; that's just and +reasonable." + +"And what must I do for the Company?" + +"Only go to India; that's all." + +"And what should I do in India?" + +"Fight, my brave boy! fight, my youthful hero!" + +"What kind of country is India?" + +"The finest country in the world! Rivers, bigger than the Ouse. Hills, +higher than anything near Spalding! Trees--you never saw such trees! +Fruits--you never saw such fruits!" + +"And the people--what kind of folk are they?" + +"Pah! Kauloes--blacks--a set of rascals not worth regarding." + +"Kauloes!" said I; "blacks!" + +"Yes," said the recruiting sergeant; "and they call us lolloes, which, in +their beastly gibberish, means red." + +"Lolloes!" said I; "reds!" + +"Yes," said the recruiting sergeant, "kauloes and lolloes; and all the +lolloes have to do is to kick and cut down the kauloes, and take from +them their rupees, which mean silver money. Why do you stare so?" + +"Why," said I, "this is the very language of Mr. Petulengro." + +"Mr. Pet--?" + +"Yes," said I, "and Tawno Chikno." + +"Tawno Chik--? I say, young fellow, I don't like your way of speaking; +no, nor your way of looking. You are mad, sir; you are mad; and what's +this? Why, your hair is grey! You won't do for the Honourable +Company--they like red. I'm glad I didn't give you the shilling. Good +day to you." + +"I shouldn't wonder," said I, as I proceeded rapidly along a broad +causeway, in the direction of the east, "if Mr. Petulengro and Tawno +Chikno came originally from India. I think I'll go there." + + + + +APPENDIX + + +CHAPTER I--A Word for Lavengro. + + +Lavengro is the history up to a certain period of one of rather a +peculiar mind and system of nerves, with an exterior shy and cold, under +which lurk much curiosity, especially with regard to what is wild and +extraordinary, a considerable quantity of energy and industry, and an +unconquerable love of independence. It narrates his earliest dreams and +feelings, dwells with minuteness on the ways, words, and characters of +his father, mother, and brother, lingers on the occasional resting-places +of his wandering half military childhood, describes the gradual hardening +of his bodily frame by robust exercises, his successive struggles, after +his family and himself have settled down in a small local capital, to +obtain knowledge of every kind, but more particularly philological lore; +his visits to the tent of the Romany chal, and the parlour of the Anglo- +German philosopher; the effect produced upon his character by his +flinging himself into contact with people all widely differing from each +other, but all extraordinary; his reluctance to settle down to the +ordinary pursuits of life; his struggles after moral truth; his glimpses +of God and the obscuration of the Divine Being, to his mind's eye; and +his being cast upon the world of London by the death of his father, at +the age of nineteen. In the world within a world, the world of London, +it shows him playing his part for some time as he best can, in the +capacity of a writer for reviews and magazines, and describes what he saw +and underwent whilst labouring in that capacity; it represents him, +however, as never forgetting that he is the son of a brave but poor +gentleman, and that if he is a hack author, he is likewise a scholar. It +shows him doing no dishonourable jobs, and proves that if he occasionally +associates with low characters, he does so chiefly to gratify the +curiosity of a scholar. In his conversations with the apple-woman of +London Bridge, the scholar is ever apparent, so again in his acquaintance +with the man of the table, for the book is no raker up of the uncleanness +of London, and if it gives what at first sight appears refuse, it +invariably shows that a pearl of some kind, generally a philological one, +is contained amongst it; it shows its hero always accompanied by his love +of independence, scorning in the greatest poverty to receive favours from +anybody, and describes him finally rescuing himself from peculiarly +miserable circumstances by writing a book, an original book, within a +week, even as Johnson is said to have written his "Rasselas," and +Beckford his "Vathek," and tells how, leaving London, he betakes himself +to the roads and fields. + +In the country it shows him leading a life of roving adventure, becoming +tinker, gypsy, postillion, ostler; associating with various kinds of +people, chiefly of the lower classes, whose ways and habits are +described; but, though leading this erratic life, we gather from the book +that his habits are neither vulgar nor vicious, that he still follows to +a certain extent his favourite pursuits, hunting after strange +characters, or analysing strange words and names. At the conclusion of +the last chapter, which terminates the first part of the history, it +hints that he is about to quit his native land on a grand philological +expedition. + +Those who read this book with attention--and the author begs to observe +that it would be of little utility to read it hurriedly--may derive much +information with respect to matters of philology and literature; it will +be found treating of most of the principal languages from Ireland to +China, and of the literature which they contain; and it is particularly +minute with regard to the ways, manners, and speech of the English +section of the most extraordinary and mysterious clan or tribe of people +to be found in the whole world--the children of Roma. But it contains +matters of much more importance than anything in connection with +philology, and the literature and manners of nations. Perhaps no work +was ever offered to the public in which the kindness and providence of +God have been set forth by more striking examples, or the machinations of +priestcraft been more truly and lucidly exposed, or the dangers which +result to a nation when it abandons itself to effeminacy, and a rage for +what is novel and fashionable, than the present. + +With respect to the kindness and providence of God, are they not +exemplified in the case of the old apple-woman and her son? These are +beings in many points bad, but with warm affections, who, after an +agonizing separation, are restored to each other, but not until the +hearts of both are changed and purified by the influence of affliction. +Are they not exemplified in the case of the rich gentleman, who touches +objects in order to avert the evil chance? This being has great gifts +and many amiable qualities, but does not everybody see that his besetting +sin is selfishness? He fixes his mind on certain objects, and takes +inordinate interest in them, because they are his own, and those very +objects, through the providence of God, which is kindness in disguise, +become snakes and scorpions to whip him. Tired of various pursuits, he +at last becomes an author, and publishes a book, which is very much +admired, and which he loves with his usual inordinate affection; the +book, consequently, becomes a viper to him, and at last he flings it +aside and begins another; the book, however, is not flung aside by the +world, who are benefited by it, deriving pleasure and knowledge from it: +so the man who merely wrote to gratify self, has already done good to +others, and got himself an honourable name. But God will not allow that +man to put that book under his head and use it as a pillow: the book has +become a viper to him, he has banished it, and is about another, which he +finishes and gives to the world; it is a better book than the first, and +every one is delighted with it; but it proves to the writer a scorpion, +because he loves it with inordinate affection; but it was good for the +world that he produced this book, which stung him as a scorpion. Yes; +and good for himself, for the labour of writing it amused him, and +perhaps prevented him from dying of apoplexy; but the book is banished, +and another is begun, and herein, again, is the providence of God +manifested; the man has the power of producing still, and God determines +that he shall give to the world what remains in his brain, which he would +not do, had he been satisfied with the second work; he would have gone to +sleep upon that as he would upon the first, for the man is selfish and +lazy. In his account of what he suffered during the composition of this +work, his besetting sin of selfishness is manifest enough; the work on +which he is engaged occupies his every thought, it is his idol, his +deity, it shall be all his own, he won't borrow a thought from any one +else, and he is so afraid lest, when he publishes it, that it should be +thought that he had borrowed from any one, that he is continually +touching objects, his nervous system, owing to his extreme selfishness, +having become partly deranged. He is left touching, in order to banish +the evil chance from his book, his deity. No more of his history is +given; but does the reader think that God will permit that man to go to +sleep on his third book, however extraordinary it may be? Assuredly not. +God will not permit that man to rest till he has cured him to a certain +extent of his selfishness, which has, however, hitherto been very useful +to the world. + +Then, again, in the tale of Peter Williams, is not the hand of Providence +to be seen? This person commits a sin in his childhood, utters words of +blasphemy, the remembrance of which, in after life, preying upon his +imagination, unfits him for quiet pursuits, to which he seems to have +been naturally inclined; but for the remembrance of that sin, he would +have been Peter Williams the quiet and respectable Welsh farmer, somewhat +fond of reading the ancient literature of his country in winter evenings, +after his work was done. God, however, was aware that there was +something in Peter Williams to entitle him to assume a higher calling; he +therefore permits this sin, which, though a childish affair, was yet a +sin, and committed deliberately, to prey upon his mind till he becomes at +last an instrument in the hand of God, a humble Paul, the great preacher, +Peter Williams, who, though he considers himself a reprobate and a +castaway, instead of having recourse to drinking in mad desperation, as +many do who consider themselves reprobates, goes about Wales and England +preaching the word of God, dilating on his power and majesty, and +visiting the sick and afflicted, until God sees fit to restore to him his +peace of mind; which he does not do, however, until that mind is in a +proper condition to receive peace, till it has been purified by the pain +of the one idea which has so long been permitted to riot in his brain; +which pain, however, an angel, in the shape of a gentle faithful wife, +had occasionally alleviated; for God is merciful even in the blows which +He bestoweth, and will not permit any one to be tempted beyond the +measure which he can support. And here it will be as well for the reader +to ponder upon the means by which the Welsh preacher is relieved from his +mental misery: he is not relieved by a text from the Bible, by the words +of consolation and wisdom addressed to him by his angel-minded wife, nor +by the preaching of one yet more eloquent than himself; but by a +quotation made by Lavengro from the life of Mary Flanders, cut-purse and +prostitute, which life Lavengro had been in the habit of reading at the +stall of his old friend the apple-woman, on London Bridge, who had +herself been very much addicted to the perusal of it, though without any +profit whatever. Should the reader be dissatisfied with the manner in +which Peter Williams is made to find relief, the author would wish to +answer, that the Almighty frequently accomplishes his purposes by means +which appear very singular to the eyes of men, and at the same time to +observe that the manner in which that relief is obtained, is calculated +to read a lesson to the proud, fanciful, and squeamish, who are ever in a +fidget lest they should be thought to mix with low society, or to bestow +a moment's attention on publications which are not what is called of a +perfectly unobjectionable character. Had not Lavengro formed the +acquaintance of the apple-woman on London Bridge, he would not have had +an opportunity of reading the life of Mary Flanders; and, consequently, +of storing in a memory, which never forgets anything, a passage which +contained a balm for the agonized mind of poor Peter Williams. The best +medicines are not always found in the finest shops. Suppose, for +example, if, instead of going to London Bridge to read, he had gone to +Albemarle Street, and had received from the proprietors of the literary +establishment in that very fashionable street, permission to read the +publications on the tables of the saloons there, does the reader think he +would have met any balm in those publications for the case of Peter +Williams? does the reader suppose that he would have found Mary Flanders +there? He would certainly have found that highly unobjectionable +publication, "Rasselas," and the "Spectator," or "Lives of Royal and +Illustrious Personages," but, of a surety, no Mary Flanders; so when +Lavengro met with Peter Williams, he would have been unprovided with a +balm to cure his ulcerated mind, and have parted from him in a way not +quite so satisfactory as the manner in which he took his leave of him; +for it is certain that he might have read "Rasselas," and all other +unexceptionable works to be found in the library of Albemarle Street, +over and over again, before he would have found any cure in them for the +case of Peter Williams. Therefore the author requests the reader to drop +any squeamish nonsense he may wish to utter about Mary Flanders, and the +manner in which Peter Williams was cured. + +And now with respect to the old man who knew Chinese, but could not tell +what was o'clock. This individual was a man whose natural powers would +have been utterly buried and lost beneath a mountain of sloth and +laziness, had not God determined otherwise. He had in his early years +chalked out for himself a plan of life in which he had his own ease and +self-indulgence solely in view; he had no particular bad passions to +gratify, he only wished to live a happy quiet life, just as if the +business of this mighty world could be carried on by innocent people fond +of ease or quiet, or that Providence would permit innocent quiet drones +to occupy any portion of the earth and to cumber it. God had at any rate +decreed that this man should not cumber it as a drone. He brings a +certain affliction upon him, the agony of which produces that terrible +whirling of the brain which, unless it is stopped in time, produces +madness; he suffers indescribable misery for a period, until one morning +his attention is arrested, and his curiosity is aroused, by certain +Chinese letters on a teapot; his curiosity increases more and more, and, +of course, in proportion as his curiosity is increased with respect to +the Chinese marks, the misery in his brain, produced by his mental +affliction, decreases. He sets about learning Chinese, and after the +lapse of many years, during which his mind subsides into a certain state +of tranquillity, he acquires sufficient knowledge of Chinese to be able +to translate with ease the inscriptions to be found on its singular +crockery. Yes, the laziest of human beings, through the Providence of +God, a being too of rather inferior capacity, acquires the written part +of a language so difficult that, as Lavengro said on a former occasion, +none but the cleverest people in Europe, the French, are able to acquire +it. But God did not intend that man should merely acquire Chinese. He +intended that he should be of use to his species, and by the +instrumentality of the first Chinese inscription which he translates, the +one which first arrested his curiosity, he is taught the duty of +hospitality; yes, by means of an inscription in the language of a people, +who have scarcely an idea of hospitality themselves, God causes the +slothful man to play a useful and beneficent part in the world, relieving +distressed wanderers, and, amongst others, Lavengro himself. But a +striking indication of the man's surprising sloth is still apparent in +what he omits to do; he has learnt Chinese, the most difficult of +languages, and he practises acts of hospitality, because he believes +himself enjoined to do so by the Chinese inscription, but he cannot tell +the hour of the day by the clock within his house; he can get on, he +thinks, very well without being able to do so; therefore from this one +omission, it is easy to come to a conclusion as to what a sluggard's part +the man would have played in life, but for the dispensation of +Providence; nothing but extreme agony could have induced such a man to do +anything useful. He still continues, with all he has acquired, with all +his usefulness, and with all his innocence of character, without any +proper sense of religion, though he has attained a rather advanced age. +If it be observed, that this want of religion is a great defect in the +story, the author begs leave to observe that he cannot help it. Lavengro +relates the lives of people so far as they were placed before him, but no +further. It was certainly a great defect in so good a man to be without +religion; it was likewise a great defect in so learned a man not to be +able to tell what was o'clock. It is probable that God, in his loving +kindness, will not permit that man to go out of the world without +religion; who knows but some powerful minister of the church full of zeal +for the glory of God, will illume that man's dark mind; perhaps some +clergyman will come to the parish who will visit him and teach him his +duty to his God. Yes, it is very probable that such a man, before he +dies, will have been made to love his God; whether he will ever learn to +know what's o'clock is another matter. It is probable that he will go +out of the world without knowing what's o'clock. It is not so necessary +to be able to tell the time of day by the clock as to know one's God +through His inspired word; a man cannot get to heaven without religion, +but a man can get there very comfortably without knowing what's o'clock. + +But, above all, the care and providence of God are manifested in the case +of Lavengro himself, by the manner in which he is enabled to make his way +in the world up to a certain period, without falling a prey either to +vice or poverty. In his history, there is a wonderful illustration of +part of the text, quoted by his mother, "I have been young, but now am +old, yet never saw I the righteous forsaken, or his seed begging his +bread." He is the son of good and honourable parents, but at the +critical period of life, that of entering into the world, he finds +himself without any earthly friend to help him, yet he manages to make +his way; he does not become a Captain in the Life Guards, it is true, nor +does he get into Parliament, nor does the last volume conclude in the +most satisfactory and unobjectionable manner, by his marrying a dowager +countess, as that wise man Addison did, or by his settling down as a +great country gentleman, perfectly happy and contented, like the very +moral Roderick Random, or the equally estimable Peregrine Pickle; he is +hack author, gypsy, tinker, and postillion, yet, upon the whole, he seems +to be quite as happy as the younger sons of most earls, to have as high +feelings of honour; and when the reader loses sight of him, he has money +in his pocket honestly acquired, to enable him to commence a journey +quite as laudable as those which the younger sons of earls generally +undertake. Surely all this is a manifestation of the kindness and +providence of God: and yet he is not a religious person; up to the time +when the reader loses sight of him, he is decidedly not a religious +person; he has glimpses, it is true, of that God who does not forsake +him, but he prays very seldom, is not fond of going to church; and, +though he admires Tate and Brady's version of the Psalms, his admiration +is rather caused by the beautiful poetry which that version contains than +the religion; yet his tale is not finished--like the tale of the +gentleman who touched objects, and that of the old man who knew Chinese +without knowing what was o'clock; perhaps, like them, he is destined to +become religious, and to have, instead of occasional glimpses, frequent +and distinct views of his God; yet, though he may become religious, it is +hardly to be expected that he will become a very precise and +straightlaced person; it is probable that he will retain, with his +scholarship, something of his gypsyism, his predilection for the hammer +and tongs, and perhaps some inclination to put on certain gloves, not +white kid, with any friend who may be inclined for a little old English +diversion, and a readiness to take a glass of ale, with plenty of malt in +it, and as little hop as may well be--ale at least two years old--with +the aforesaid friend, when the diversion is over; for, as it is the +belief of the writer that a person may get to heaven very comfortably +without knowing what's o'clock, so it is his belief that he will not be +refused admission there, because to the last he has been fond of healthy +and invigorating exercises, and felt a willingness to partake of any of +the good things which it pleases the Almighty to put within the reach of +his children during their sojourn upon earth. + + + +CHAPTER II--On Priestcraft. + + +The writer will now say a few words about priestcraft, and the +machinations of Rome, and will afterwards say something about himself, +and his motives for writing against them. + +With respect to Rome, and her machinations, much valuable information can +be obtained from particular parts of Lavengro, and its sequel. Shortly +before the time when the hero of the book is launched into the world, the +Popish agitation in England had commenced. The Popish propaganda had +determined to make a grand attempt on England; Popish priests were +scattered over the land, doing the best they could to make converts to +the old superstition. With the plans of Rome, and her hopes, and the +reasons on which those hopes are grounded, the hero of the book becomes +acquainted, during an expedition which he makes into the country, from +certain conversations which he holds with a priest in a dingle, in which +the hero had taken up his residence; he likewise learns from the same +person much of the secret history of the Roman See, and many matters +connected with the origin and progress of the Popish superstition. The +individual with whom he holds these conversations is a learned, +intelligent, but highly-unprincipled person, of a character however very +common amongst the priests of Rome, who in general are people void of all +religion, and who, notwithstanding they are tied to Rome by a band which +they have neither the power nor wish to break, turn her and her +practices, over their cups with their confidential associates, to a +ridicule only exceeded by that to which they turn those who become the +dupes of their mistress and themselves. + +It is now necessary that the writer should say something with respect to +himself, and his motives for waging war against Rome. First of all, with +respect to himself, he wishes to state, that to the very last moment of +his life, he will do and say all that in his power may be to hold up to +contempt and execration the priestcraft and practices of Rome; there is, +perhaps, no person better acquainted than himself, not even among the +choicest spirits of the priesthood, with the origin and history of +Popery. From what he saw and heard of Popery in England, at a very early +period of his life, his curiosity was aroused, and he spared himself no +trouble, either by travel or study, to make himself well acquainted with +it in all its phases, the result being a hatred of it, which he hopes and +trusts he shall retain till the moment when his spirit quits the body. +Popery is the great lie of the world; a source from which more misery and +social degradation have flowed upon the human race, than from all the +other sources from which those evils come. It is the oldest of all +superstitions; and though in Europe it assumes the name of Christianity, +it existed and flourished amidst the Himalayan hills at least two +thousand years before the real Christ was born in Bethlehem of Judea; in +a word, it is Buddhism; and let those who may be disposed to doubt this +assertion, compare the Popery of Rome, and the superstitious practices of +its followers, with the doings of the priests who surround the grand +Lama; and the mouthings, bellowing, turnings round, and, above all, the +penances of the followers of Buddh with those of Roman devotees. But he +is not going to dwell here on this point; it is dwelt upon at tolerable +length in the text, and has likewise been handled with extraordinary +power by the pen of the gifted but irreligious Volney; moreover, the +_elite_ of the Roman priesthood are perfectly well aware that their +system is nothing but Buddhism under a slight disguise, and the European +world in general has entertained for some time past an inkling of the +fact. + +And now a few words with respect to the motives of the writer for +expressing a hatred for Rome. + +This expressed abhorrence of the author for Rome might be entitled to +little regard, provided it were possible to attribute it to any +self-interested motive. There have been professed enemies of Rome, or of +this or that system; but their professed enmity may frequently be traced +to some cause which does them little credit; but the writer of these +lines has no motive, and can have no motive, for his enmity to Rome, save +the abhorrence of an honest heart for what is false, base, and cruel. A +certain clergyman wrote with much heat against the Papists in the time +of--who was known to favour the Papists, but was not expected to continue +long in office, and whose supposed successor, the person, indeed, who did +succeed him, was thought to be hostile to the Papists. This divine, who +obtained a rich benefice from the successor of--who during ---'s time had +always opposed him in everything he proposed to do, and who, of course, +during that time affected to be very inimical to Popery--this divine +might well be suspected of having a motive equally creditable for writing +against the Papists, as that which induced him to write for them, as soon +as his patron, who eventually did something more for him, had espoused +their cause; but what motive, save an honest one, can the present writer +have, for expressing an abhorrence of Popery? He is no clergyman, and +consequently can expect neither benefices nor bishoprics, supposing it +were the fashion of the present, or likely to be the fashion of any +future administration, to reward clergymen with benefices or bishoprics, +who, in the defence of the religion of their country write, or shall +write, against Popery, and not to reward those who write, or shall write, +in favour of it, and all its nonsense and abominations. + +"But if not a clergyman, he is the servant of a certain society, which +has the overthrow of Popery in view, and therefore," etc. This +assertion, which has been frequently made, is incorrect, even as those +who have made it probably knew it to be. He is the servant of no society +whatever. He eats his own bread, and is one of the very few men in +England who are independent in every sense of the word. + +It is true he went to Spain with the colours of that society on his +hat--oh! the blood glows in his veins! oh! the marrow awakes in his old +bones when he thinks of what he accomplished in Spain in the cause of +religion and civilization with the colours of that society in his hat, +and its weapon in his hand, even the sword of the word of God; how with +that weapon he hewed left and right, making the priests fly before him, +and run away squeaking: "Vaya! que demonio es este!" Ay, and when he +thinks of the plenty of Bible swords which he left behind him, destined +to prove, and which have already proved, pretty calthrops in the heels of +Popery. "Halloo! Batuschca," he exclaimed the other night, on reading an +article in a newspaper; "what do you think of the present doings in +Spain? Your old friend the zingaro, the gitano who rode about Spain, to +say nothing of Galicia, with the Greek Buchini behind him as his squire, +had a hand in bringing them about; there are many brave Spaniards +connected with the present movement who took Bibles from his hands, and +read them and profited by them, learning from the inspired page the +duties of one man towards another, and the real value of a priesthood and +their head, who set at nought the word of God, and think only of their +own temporal interests; ay, and who learned Gitano--their own Gitano--from +the lips of the London Caloro, and also songs in the said Gitano, very +fit to dumbfounder your semi-Buddhist priests when they attempt to +bewilder people's minds with their school-logic and pseudo-ecclesiastical +nonsense, songs such as-- + + "Un Erajai + Sinaba chibando un sermon--." + +- But with that society he has long since ceased to have any connection; +he bade it adieu with feelings of love and admiration more than fourteen +years ago; so, in continuing to assault Popery, no hopes of interest +founded on that society can sway his mind--interest! who, with worldly +interest in view, would ever have anything to do with that society? It +is poor and supported, like its founder Christ, by poor people; and so +far from having political influence, it is in such disfavour, and has +ever been, with the dastardly great, to whom the government of England +has for many years past been confided, that they having borne its colours +only for a month would be sufficient to exclude any man, whatever his +talents, his learning, or his courage may be, from the slightest chance +of being permitted to serve his country either for fee, or without. A +fellow who unites in himself the bankrupt trader, the broken author, or +rather book-maker, and the laughed-down single speech spouter of the +House of Commons, may look forward, always supposing that at one time he +has been a foaming radical, to the government of an important colony. Ay, +an ancient fox who has lost his tail may, provided he has a score of +radical friends, who will swear that he can bark Chinese, though Chinese +is not barked but sung, be forced upon a Chinese colony, though it is +well known that to have lost one's tail is considered by the Chinese in +general as an irreparable infamy, whilst to have been once connected with +a certain society, to which, to its honour be it said, all the radical +party are vehemently hostile, would be quite sufficient to keep any one +not only from a government, but something much less, even though he could +translate the rhymed "Sessions of Hariri," and were versed, still +retaining his tail, in the two languages in which Kien-Loung wrote his +Eulogium on Moukden, that piece which, translated by Amyot, the learned +Jesuit, won the applause of the celebrated Voltaire. + +No! were the author influenced by hopes of fee or reward, he would, +instead of writing against Popery, write for it; all the trumpery +titled--he will not call them great again--would then be for him, and +their masters the radicals, with their hosts of newspapers, would be for +him, more especially if he would commence maligning the society whose +colours he had once on his hat--a society which, as the priest says in +the text, is one of the very few Protestant institutions for which the +Popish Church entertains any fear, and consequently respect, as it +respects nothing which it does not fear. The writer said that certain +"rulers" would never forgive him for having been connected with that +society; he went perhaps too far in saying "never." It is probable that +they would take him into favour on one condition, which is, that he +should turn his pen and his voice against that society; such a mark "of a +better way of thinking" would perhaps induce them to give him a +government, nearly as good as that which they gave to a certain ancient +radical fox at the intercession of his radical friends (who were bound to +keep him from the pauper's kennel), after he had promised to foam, bark, +and snarl at corruption no more; he might even entertain hopes of +succeeding, nay, of superseding, the ancient creature in his government; +but even were he as badly off as he is well off, he would do no such +thing. He would rather exist on crusts and water; he has often done so, +and been happy; nay, he would rather starve than be a rogue--for even the +feeling of starvation is happiness compared with what he feels who knows +himself to be a rogue, provided he has any feeling at all. What is the +use of a mitre or knighthood to a man who has betrayed his principles? +What is the use of a gilt collar, nay, even of a pair of scarlet +breeches, to a fox who has lost his tail? Oh! the horror which haunts +the mind of a fox who has lost his tail; and with reason, for his very +mate loathes him, and more especially if, like himself, she has lost her +brush. Oh! the horror which haunts the mind of the two-legged rogue who +has parted with his principles, or those which he professed--for what? +We'll suppose a government. What's the use of a government, if the next +day after you have received it, you are obliged for very shame to scurry +off to it with the hoot of every honest man sounding in your ears? + + "Lightly liar leaped and away ran." + + PIERS PLOWMAN. + +But bigotry, it has been said, makes the author write against Popery; and +thorough-going bigotry, indeed, will make a person say or do anything. +But the writer is a very pretty bigot truly! Where will the public find +traces of bigotry in anything he has written? He has written against +Rome with all his heart, with all his mind, with all his soul, and with +all his strength; but as a person may be quite honest, and speak and +write against Rome, in like manner he may speak and write against her, +and be quite free from bigotry; though it is impossible for any one but a +bigot or a bad man to write or speak in her praise; her doctrines, +actions, and machinations being what they are. + +Bigotry! The author was born, and has always continued in the wrong +church for bigotry, the quiet, unpretending Church of England; a church +which, had it been a bigoted church, and not long suffering almost to a +fault, might with its opportunities, as the priest says in the text, have +stood in a very different position from that which it occupies at +present. No! let those who are in search of bigotry, seek for it in a +church very different from the inoffensive Church of England, which never +encourages cruelty or calumny. Let them seek for it amongst the members +of the Church of Rome, and more especially amongst those who have +renegaded to it. There is nothing, however false and horrible, which a +pervert to Rome will not say for his church, and which his priests will +not encourage him in saying; and there is nothing, however horrible--the +more horrible indeed and revolting to human nature, the more eager he +would be to do it--which he will not do for it, and which his priests +will not encourage him in doing. + +Of the readiness which converts to Popery exhibit to sacrifice all the +ties of blood and affection on the shrine of their newly-adopted +religion, there is a curious illustration in the work of Luigi Pulci. +This man, who was born at Florence in the year 1432, and who was deeply +versed in the Bible, composed a poem, called the "Morgante Maggiore," +which he recited at the table of Lorenzo de Medici, the great patron of +Italian genius. It is a mock-heroic and religious poem, in which the +legends of knight-errantry, and of the Popish Church, are turned to +unbounded ridicule. The pretended hero of it is a converted giant, +called Morgante; though his adventures do not occupy the twentieth part +of the poem, the principal personages being Charlemagne, Orlando, and his +cousin Rinaldo of Montalban. Morgante has two brothers, both of them +giants, and in the first canto of the poem, Morgante is represented with +his brothers as carrying on a feud with the abbot and monks of a certain +convent, built upon the confines of heathenesse; the giants being in the +habit of flinging down stones, or rather huge rocks, on the convent. +Orlando, however, who is banished from the court of Charlemagne, arriving +at the convent, undertakes to destroy them, and, accordingly, kills +Passamonte and Alabastro, and converts Morgante, whose mind had been +previously softened by a vision, in which the "Blessed Virgin" figures. +No sooner is he converted than, as a sign of his penitence, what does he +do, but hastens and cuts off the hands of his two brothers, saying-- + + "Io vo' tagliar le mani a tutti quanti + E porterolle a que' monaci santi." + +And he does cut off the hands of his brethren, and carries them to the +abbot, who blesses him for so doing. Pulci here is holding up to +ridicule and execration the horrid butchery or betrayal of friends by +popish converts, and the encouragement they receive from the priest. No +sooner is a person converted to Popery, than his principal thought is how +he can bring the hands and feet of his brethren, however harmless they +may be, and different from the giants, to the "holy priests," who, if he +manages to do so, never fail to praise him, saying to the miserable +wretch, as the abbot said to Morgante:-- + + "Tu sarai or perfetto e vero amico + A Cristo, quanto tu gli eri nemico." + +Can the English public deny the justice of Pulci's illustration, after +something which it has lately witnessed? Has it not seen equivalents for +the hands and feet of brothers carried by popish perverts to the "holy +priests," and has it not seen the manner in which the offering has been +received? Let those who are in quest of bigotry seek for it among the +perverts to Rome, and not amongst those who, born in the pale of the +Church of England, have always continued in it. + + + +CHAPTER III--On Foreign Nonsense. + + +With respect to the third point, various lessons which the book reads to +the nation at large, and which it would be well for the nation to ponder +and profit by. + +There are many species of nonsense to which the nation is much addicted, +and of which the perusal of Lavengro ought to give them a wholesome +shame. First of all, with respect to the foreign nonsense so prevalent +now in England. The hero is a scholar; but, though possessed of a great +many tongues, he affects to be neither Frenchman, nor German, nor this or +that foreigner; he is one who loves his country, and the language and +literature of his country, and speaks up for each and all when there is +occasion to do so. Now what is the case with nine out of ten amongst +those of the English who study foreign languages? No sooner have they +picked up a smattering of this or that speech than they begin to abuse +their own country, and everything connected with it, more especially its +language. This is particularly the case with those who call themselves +German students. It is said, and the writer believes with truth, that +when a woman falls in love with a particularly ugly fellow, she squeezes +him with ten times more zest than she would a handsome one, if captivated +by him. So it is with these German students; no sooner have they taken +German in hand than there is nothing like German. Oh, the dear +delightful German! How proud I am that it is now my own, and that its +divine literature is within my reach! And all this whilst mumbling the +most uncouth speech, and crunching the most crabbed literature in Europe. +The writer is not an exclusive admirer of everything English; he does not +advise his country people never to go abroad, never to study foreign +languages, and he does not wish to persuade them that there is nothing +beautiful or valuable in foreign literature; he only wishes that they +would not make themselves fools with respect to foreign people, foreign +languages or reading; that if they chance to have been in Spain, and have +picked up a little Spanish, they would not affect the airs of Spaniards; +that if males they would not make Tomfools of themselves by sticking +cigars into their mouths, dressing themselves in zamarras, and saying, +carajo! {2} and if females that they would not make zanies of themselves +by sticking cigars into their mouths, flinging mantillas over their +heads, and by saying carai, and perhaps carajo too; or if they have been +in France or Italy, and have picked up a little French or Italian, they +would not affect to be French or Italians; and particularly, after having +been a month or two in Germany, or picked up a little German in England, +they would not make themselves foolish about everything German, as the +Anglo-German in the book does--a real character, the founder of the Anglo- +German school in England, and the cleverest Englishman who ever talked or +wrote encomiastic nonsense about Germany and the Germans. Of all +infatuations connected with what is foreign, the infatuation about +everything that is German, to a certain extent prevalent in England, is +assuredly the most ridiculous. One can find something like a palliation +for people making themselves somewhat foolish about particular languages, +literatures, and people. The Spanish certainly is a noble language, and +there is something wild and captivating in the Spanish character, and its +literature contains the grand book of the world. French is a manly +language. The French are the great martial people in the world; and +French literature is admirable in many respects. Italian is a sweet +language, and of beautiful simplicity--its literature perhaps the first +in the world. The Italians!--wonderful men have sprung up in Italy. +Italy is not merely famous for painters, poets, musicians, singers, and +linguists--the greatest linguist the world ever saw, the late Cardinal +Mezzofanti, was an Italian; but it is celebrated for men--men +emphatically speaking: Columbus was an Italian, Alexander Farnese was an +Italian, so was the mightiest of the mighty, Napoleon Bonaparte;--but the +German language, German literature, and the Germans! The writer has +already stated his opinion with respect to German; he does not speak from +ignorance or prejudice; he has heard German spoken, and many other +languages. German literature! He does not speak from ignorance, he has +read that and many a literature, and he repeats-- However, he +acknowledges that there is one fine poem in the German language, that +poem is the "Oberon;" a poem, by the bye, ignored by the Germans--a +speaking fact--and of course, by the Anglo-Germanists. The Germans! he +has been amongst them, and amongst many other nations, and confesses that +his opinion of the Germans, as men, is a very low one. Germany, it is +true, has produced one very great man, the monk who fought the Pope, and +nearly knocked him down; but this man his countrymen--a telling +fact--affect to despise, and, of course, the Anglo-Germanists: the father +of Anglo-Germanism was very fond of inveighing against Luther. + +The madness, or rather foolery, of the English for foreign customs, +dresses, and languages, is not an affair of to-day, or yesterday--it is +of very ancient date, and was very properly exposed nearly three +centuries ago by one Andrew Borde, who under the picture of a "Naked man, +with a pair of shears in one hand, and a roll of cloth in the other," {3} +inserted the following lines along with others:-- + + "I am an Englishman, and naked I stand here, + Musing in my mind what garment I shall weare; + For now I will weare this, and now I will weare that, + Now I will weare, I cannot tell what. + All new fashions be pleasant to mee, + I will have them, whether I thrive or thee; + What do I care if all the world me fail? + I will have a garment reach to my taile; + Then am I a minion, for I wear the new guise. + The next yeare after I hope to be wise, + Not only in wearing my gorgeous array, + For I will go to learning a whole summer's day; + I will learn Latine, Hebrew, Greek, and French, + And I will learn Dutch, sitting on my bench. + I had no peere if to myself I were true, + Because I am not so, divers times do I rue. + Yet I lacke nothing, I have all things at will + If I were wise and would hold myself still, + And meddle with no matters but to me pertaining, + But ever to be true to God and my king. + But I have such matters rowling in my pate, + That I will and do--I cannot tell what," etc. + + + +CHAPTER IV--On Gentility Nonsense--Illustrations of Gentility. + + +What is gentility? People in different stations in England--entertain +different ideas of what is genteel, {4} but it must be something +gorgeous, glittering, or tawdry, to be considered genteel by any of them. +The beau-ideal of the English aristocracy, of course with some +exceptions, is some young fellow with an imperial title, a military +personage of course, for what is military is so particularly genteel, +with flaming epaulets, a cocked hat and plume, a prancing charger, and a +band of fellows called generals and colonels, with flaming epaulets, +cocked hats and plumes, and prancing chargers vapouring behind him. It +was but lately that the daughter of an English marquis was heard to say, +that the sole remaining wish of her heart--she had known misfortunes, and +was not far from fifty--was to be introduced to--whom? The Emperor of +Austria! The sole remaining wish of the heart of one who ought to have +been thinking of the grave and judgment, was to be introduced to the +miscreant who had caused the blood of noble Hungarian females to be +whipped out of their shoulders, for no other crime than devotion to their +country, and its tall and heroic sons. The middle classes--of course +there are some exceptions--admire the aristocracy, and consider them +pinks, the aristocracy who admire the Emperor of Austria, and adored the +Emperor of Russia, till he became old, ugly, and unfortunate, when their +adoration instantly terminated; for what is more ungenteel than age, +ugliness, and misfortune! The beau-ideal with those of the lower +classes, with peasants and mechanics, is some flourishing railroad +contractor: look, for example, how they worship Mr. Flamson. This person +makes his grand debut in the year 'thirty-nine, at a public meeting in +the principal room of a country inn. He has come into the neighbourhood +with the character of a man worth a million pounds, who is to make +everybody's fortune; at this time, however, he is not worth a shilling of +his own, though he flashes about dexterously three or four thousand +pounds, part of which sum he has obtained by specious pretences, and part +from certain individuals who are his confederates. But in the year +'forty-nine, he is really in possession of the fortune which he and his +agents pretended to be worth ten years before--he is worth a million +pounds. By what means has he come by them? By railroad contracts, for +which he takes care to be paid in hard cash before he attempts to perform +them, and to carry out which he makes use of the sweat and blood of +wretches who, since their organization, have introduced crimes and +language into England to which it was previously almost a stranger--by +purchasing, with paper, shares by hundreds in the schemes to execute +which he contracts, and which are his own devising; which shares he sells +as soon as they are at a high premium, to which they are speedily forced +by means of paragraphs, inserted by himself and agents, in newspapers +devoted to his interest, utterly reckless of the terrible depreciation to +which they are almost instantly subjected. But he is worth a million +pounds, there can be no doubt of the fact--he has not made people's +fortunes, at least those whose fortunes it was said he would make; he has +made them away; but his own he has made, emphatically made it; he is +worth a million pounds. Hurrah for the millionnaire! The clown who +views the pandemonium of red brick which he has built on the estate which +he has purchased in the neighbourhood of the place of his grand debut, in +which every species of architecture, Greek, Indian, and Chinese, is +employed in caricature--who hears of the grand entertainment he gives at +Christmas in the principal dining-room, the hundred wax-candles, the +waggon-load of plate, and the ocean of wine which form parts of it, and +above all the two ostrich poults, one at the head, and the other at the +foot of the table, exclaims, "Well! if he a'n't bang up, I don't know who +be; why he beats my lord hollow!" The mechanic of the borough town, who +sees him dashing through the streets in an open landau, drawn by four +milk-white horses, amidst his attendant out-riders; his wife, a monster +of a woman, by his side, stout as the wife of Tamerlane, who weighed +twenty stone, and bedizened out like her whose person shone with the +jewels of plundered Persia, stares with silent wonder, and at last +exclaims "That's the man for my vote!" You tell the clown that the man +of the mansion has contributed enormously to corrupt the rural innocence +of England; you point to an incipient branch railroad, from around which +the accents of Gomorrah are sounding, and beg him to listen for a moment, +and then close his ears. Hodge scratches his head and says, "Well, I +have nothing to say to that; all I know is, that he is bang up, and I +wish I were he;" perhaps he will add--a Hodge has been known to add--"He +has been kind enough to put my son on that very railroad; 'tis true the +company is somewhat queer, and the work rather killing, but he gets there +half-a-crown a day, whereas from the farmers he would only get eighteen- +pence." You remind the mechanic that the man in the landau has been the +ruin of thousands and you mention people whom he himself knows, people in +various grades of life, widows and orphans amongst them, whose little all +has been dissipated, and whom he has reduced to beggary by inducing them +to become sharers in his delusive schemes. But the mechanic says, "Well, +the more fools they to let themselves be robbed. But I don't call that +kind of thing robbery, I merely call it out-witting; and everybody in +this free country has a right to outwit others if he can. What a turn- +out he has!" One was once heard to add, "I never saw a more +genteel-looking man in all my life except one, and that was a gentleman's +walley, who was much like him. It is true that he is rather under-sized, +but then madam, you know, makes up for all." + + + +CHAPTER V--Subject of Gentility continued. + + +In the last chapter have been exhibited specimens of gentility, so +considered by different classes; by one class power, youth, and epaulets +are considered the ne plus ultra of gentility; by another class pride, +stateliness, and title; by another, wealth and flaming tawdriness. But +what constitutes a gentleman? It is easy to say at once what constitutes +a gentleman, and there are no distinctions in what is gentlemanly, {5} as +there are in what is genteel. The characteristics of a gentleman are +high feeling--a determination never to take a cowardly advantage of +another--a liberal education--absence of narrow views--generosity and +courage, propriety of behaviour. Now a person may be genteel according +to one or another of the three standards described above, and not possess +one of the characteristics of a gentleman. Is the emperor a gentleman, +with spatters of blood on his clothes, scourged from the backs of noble +Hungarian women? Are the aristocracy gentlefolks, who admire him? Is +Mr. Flamson a gentleman, although he has a million pounds? No! cowardly +miscreants, admirers of cowardly miscreants, and people who make a +million pounds by means compared with which those employed to make +fortunes by the getters up of the South Sea Bubble might be called honest +dealing, are decidedly not gentlefolks. Now as it is clearly +demonstrable that a person may be perfectly genteel according to some +standard or other, and yet be no gentleman, so it is demonstrable that a +person may have no pretensions to gentility, and yet be a gentleman. For +example, there is Lavengro! Would the admirers of the emperor, or the +admirers of those who admire the emperor, or the admirers of Mr. Flamson, +call him genteel? and gentility with them is everything! Assuredly they +would not; and assuredly they would consider him respectively as a being +to be shunned, despised, or hooted. Genteel! Why at one time he is a +hack author--writes reviewals for eighteenpence a page--edits a Newgate +chronicle. At another he wanders the country with a face grimy from +occasionally mending kettles; and there is no evidence that his clothes +are not seedy and torn, and his shoes down at the heel; but by what +process of reasoning will they prove that he is no gentleman? Is he not +learned? Has he not generosity and courage? Whilst a hack author, does +he pawn the books entrusted to him to review? Does he break his word to +his publisher? Does he write begging letters? Does he get clothes or +lodgings without paying for them? Again, whilst a wanderer, does he +insult helpless women on the road with loose proposals or ribald +discourse? Does he take what is not his own from the hedges? Does he +play on the fiddle, or make faces in public-houses, in order to obtain +pence or beer? or does he call for liquor, swallow it, and then say to a +widowed landlady, "Mistress, I have no brass?" In a word, what vice and +crime does he perpetrate--what low acts does he commit? Therefore, with +his endowments, who will venture to say that he is no gentleman?--unless +it be an admirer of Mr. Flamson--a clown--who will, perhaps, shout--"I +say he is no gentleman; for who can be a gentleman who keeps no gig?" + +The indifference exhibited by Lavengro for what is merely genteel, +compared with his solicitude never to infringe the strict laws of honour, +should read a salutary lesson. The generality of his countrymen are far +more careful not to transgress the customs of what they call gentility, +than to violate the laws of honour or morality. They will shrink from +carrying their own carpet-bag, and from speaking to a person in seedy +raiment, whilst to matters of much higher importance they are shamelessly +indifferent. Not so Lavengro; he will do anything that he deems +convenient, or which strikes his fancy, provided it does not outrage +decency, or is unallied to profligacy; is not ashamed to speak to a +beggar in rags, and will associate with anybody, provided he can gratify +a laudable curiosity. He has no abstract love for what is low, or what +the world calls low. He sees that many things which the world looks down +upon are valuable, so he prizes much which the world condemns; he sees +that many things which the world admires are contemptible, so he despises +much which the world does not; but when the world prizes what is really +excellent, he does not contemn it, because the world regards it. If he +learns Irish, which all the world scoffs at, he likewise learns Italian, +which all the world melts at. If he learns Gypsy, the language of the +tattered tent, he likewise learns Greek, the language of the +college-hall. If he learns smithery, he also learns--ah! what does he +learn to set against smithery?--the law? No; he does not learn the law, +which, by the way, is not very genteel. Swimming? Yes, he learns to +swim. Swimming, however, is not genteel; and the world--at least the +genteel part of it--acts very wisely in setting its face against it; for +to swim you must be naked, and how would many a genteel person look +without his clothes? Come, he learns horsemanship; a very genteel +accomplishment, which every genteel person would gladly possess, though +not all genteel people do. + +Again as to associates: if he holds communion when a boy with Murtagh, +the scarecrow of an Irish academy, he associates in after life with +Francis Ardry, a rich and talented young Irish gentleman about town. If +he accepts an invitation from Mr. Petulengro to his tent, he has no +objection to go home with a rich genius to dinner; who then will say that +he prizes a thing or a person because they are ungenteel? That he is not +ready to take up with everything that is ungenteel he gives a proof, when +he refuses, though on the brink of starvation, to become bonnet to the +thimble-man, an office, which, though profitable, is positively +ungenteel. Ah! but some sticker-up for gentility will exclaim, "The hero +did not refuse this office from an insurmountable dislike to its +ungentility, but merely from a feeling of principle." Well! the writer +is not fond of argument, and he will admit that such was the case; he +admits that it was a love of principle, rather than an over-regard for +gentility, which prevented the hero from accepting, when on the brink of +starvation, an ungenteel though lucrative office, an office which, the +writer begs leave to observe, many a person with a great regard for +gentility, and no particular regard for principle, would in a similar +strait have accepted; for when did a mere love for gentility keep a +person from being a dirty scoundrel, when the alternatives were "either +be a dirty scoundrel or starve?" One thing, however, is certain, which +is, that Lavengro did not accept the office, which if a love for what is +low had been his ruling passion he certainly would have done; +consequently, he refuses to do one thing which no genteel person would +willingly do, even as he does many things which every genteel person +would gladly do, for example, speaks Italian, rides on horseback, +associates with a fashionable young man, dines with a rich genius, et +cetera. Yet--and it cannot be minced--he and gentility with regard to +many things are at strange divergency; he shrinks from many things at +which gentility placidly hums a tune, or approvingly simpers, and does +some things at which gentility positively shrinks. He will not run into +debt for clothes or lodgings, which he might do without any scandal to +gentility; he will not receive money from Francis Ardry, and go to +Brighton with the sister of Annette Le Noir, though there is nothing +ungenteel in borrowing money from a friend, even when you never intend to +repay him, and something poignantly genteel in going to a watering-place +with a gay young Frenchwoman; but he has no objection, after raising +twenty pounds by the sale of that extraordinary work "Joseph Sell," to +set off into the country, mend kettles under hedge-rows, and make pony +and donkey shoes in a dingle. Here, perhaps, some plain, well-meaning +person will cry--and with much apparent justice--how can the writer +justify him in this act? What motive, save a love for what is low, could +induce him to do such a thing? Would the writer have everybody who is in +need of recreation go into the country, mend kettles under hedges, and +make pony shoes in dingles? To such an observation the writer would +answer, that Lavengro had an excellent motive in doing what he did, but +that the writer is not so unreasonable as to wish everybody to do the +same. It is not everybody who can mend kettles. It is not everybody who +is in similar circumstances to those in which Lavengro was. Lavengro +flies from London and hack authorship, and takes to the roads from fear +of consumption; it is expensive to put up at inns, and even at public- +houses, and Lavengro has not much money; so he buys a tinker's cart and +apparatus, and sets up as tinker, and subsequently as blacksmith; a +person living in a tent, or in anything else, must do something or go +mad; Lavengro had a mind, as he himself well knew, with some slight +tendency to madness, and had he not employed himself, he must have gone +wild; so to employ himself he drew upon one of his resources, the only +one available at the time. Authorship had nearly killed him, he was sick +of reading, and had besides no books; but he possessed the rudiments of +an art akin to tinkering; he knew something of smithery, having served a +kind of apprenticeship in Ireland to a fairy smith; so he draws upon his +smithery to enable him to acquire tinkering, he speedily acquires that +craft, even as he had speedily acquired Welsh, owing to its connection +with Irish, which language he possessed; and with tinkering he amuses +himself until he lays it aside to resume smithery. A man who has an +innocent resource, has quite as much right to draw upon it in need, as he +has upon a banker in whose hands he has placed a sum; Lavengro turns to +advantage, under particular circumstances, a certain resource which he +has, but people who are not so forlorn as Lavengro, and have not served +the same apprenticeship which he had, are not advised to follow his +example. Surely he was better employed in plying the trades of tinker +and smith than in having recourse to vice, in running after milk-maids, +for example. Running after milk-maids is by no means an ungenteel rural +diversion; but let any one ask some respectable casuist (the Bishop of +London for example), whether Lavengro was not far better employed, when +in the country, at tinkering and smithery than he would have been in +running after all the milk-maids in Cheshire, though tinkering is in +general considered a very ungenteel employment, and smithery little +better, notwithstanding that an Orcadian poet, who wrote in Norse about +eight hundred years ago, reckons the latter among nine noble arts which +he possessed, naming it along with playing at chess, on the harp, and +ravelling runes, or as the original has it, "treading runes"--that is, +compressing them into a small compass by mingling one letter with +another, even as the Turkish caligraphists ravel the Arabic letters, more +especially those who write talismans. + + "Nine arts have I, all noble; + I play at chess so free, + At ravelling runes I'm ready, + At books and smithery; + I'm skilled o'er ice at skimming + On skates, I shoot and row, + And few at harping match me, + Or minstrelsy, I trow." + +But though Lavengro takes up smithery, which, though the Orcadian ranks +it with chess-playing and harping, is certainly somewhat of a grimy art, +there can be no doubt that, had he been wealthy and not so forlorn as he +was, he would have turned to many things, honourable, of course, in +preference. He has no objection to ride a fine horse when he has the +opportunity: he has his day-dream of making a fortune of two hundred +thousand pounds by becoming a merchant and doing business after the +Armenian fashion; and there can be no doubt that he would have been glad +to wear fine clothes, provided he had had sufficient funds to authorize +him in wearing them. For the sake of wandering the country and plying +the hammer and tongs, he would not have refused a commission in the +service of that illustrious monarch George the Fourth, provided he had +thought that he could live on his pay, and not be forced to run in debt +to tradesmen, without any hope of paying them, for clothes and luxuries, +as many highly genteel officers in that honourable service were in the +habit of doing. For the sake of tinkering, he would certainly not have +refused a secretaryship of an embassy to Persia, in which he might have +turned his acquaintance with Persian, Arabic, and the Lord only knows +what other languages, to account. He took to tinkering and smithery, +because no better employments were at his command. No war is waged in +the book against rank, wealth, fine clothes, or dignified employments; it +is shown, however, that a person may be a gentleman and a scholar without +them. Rank, wealth, fine clothes, and dignified employments, are no +doubt very fine things, but they are merely externals, they do not make a +gentleman, they add external grace and dignity to the gentleman and +scholar, but they make neither; and is it not better to be a gentleman +without them than not a gentleman with them? Is not Lavengro, when he +leaves London on foot with twenty pounds in his pocket, entitled to more +respect than Mr. Flamson flaming in his coach with a million? And is not +even the honest jockey at Horncastle, who offers a fair price to Lavengro +for his horse, entitled to more than the scoundrel lord, who attempts to +cheat him of one-fourth of its value? + +Millions, however, seem to think otherwise, by their servile adoration of +people whom without rank, wealth, and fine clothes they would consider +infamous, but whom possessed of rank, wealth, and glittering habiliments +they seem to admire all the more for their profligacy and crimes. Does +not a blood-spot, or a lust-spot, on the clothes of a blooming emperor, +give a kind of zest to the genteel young god? Do not the pride, +superciliousness, and selfishness of a certain aristocracy make it all +the more regarded by its worshippers? and do not the clownish and gutter- +blood admirers of Mr. Flamson like him all the more because they are +conscious that he is a knave? If such is the case --and, alas! is it not +the case?--they cannot be too frequently told that fine clothes, wealth, +and titles adorn a person in proportion as he adorns them; that if worn +by the magnanimous and good they are ornaments indeed, but if by the vile +and profligate they are merely san benitos, and only serve to make their +infamy doubly apparent; and that a person in seedy raiment and tattered +hat, possessed of courage, kindness, and virtue, is entitled to more +respect from those to whom his virtues are manifested than any cruel +profligate emperor, selfish aristocrat, or knavish millionaire in the +world. + +The writer has no intention of saying that all in England are affected +with the absurd mania for gentility; nor is such a statement made in the +book; it is shown therein that individuals of certain classes can prize a +gentleman, notwithstanding seedy raiment, dusty shoes or tattered +hat,--for example, the young Irishman, the rich genius, the postillion, +and his employer. Again, when the life of the hero is given to the +world, amidst the howl about its lowness and vulgarity, raised by the +servile crew whom its independence of sentiment has stung, more than one +powerful voice has been heard testifying approbation of its learning and +the purity of its morality. That there is some salt in England, minds +not swayed by mere externals, he is fully convinced; if he were not, he +would spare himself the trouble of writing; but to the fact that the +generality of his countrymen are basely grovelling before the shrine of +what they are pleased to call gentility, he cannot shut his eyes. + +Oh! what a clever person that Cockney was, who, travelling in the +Aberdeen railroad carriage, after edifying the company with his remarks +on various subjects, gave it as his opinion that Lieutenant P--- would, +in future, be shunned by all respectable society! And what a simple +person that elderly gentleman was, who, abruptly starting, asked in +rather an authoritative voice, "and why should Lieutenant P--- be shunned +by respectable society?" and who, after entering into what was said to be +a masterly analysis of the entire evidence of the case, concluded by +stating, "that having been accustomed to all kinds of evidence all his +life, he had never known a case in which the accused had obtained a more +complete and triumphant justification than Lieutenant P--- had done in +the late trial." + +Now the Cockney, who is said to have been a very foppish Cockney, was +perfectly right in what he said, and therein manifested a knowledge of +the English mind and character, and likewise of the modern English +language, to which his catechist, who, it seems, was a distinguished +member of the Scottish bar, could lay no pretensions. The Cockney knew +what the Lord of Session knew not, that the British public is gentility +crazy, and he knew, moreover, that gentility and respectability are +synonymous. No one in England is genteel or respectable that is "looked +at," who is the victim of oppression; he may be pitied for a time, but +when did not pity terminate in contempt? A poor, harmless young +officer--but why enter into the details of the infamous case? they are +but too well known, and if ever cruelty, pride, and cowardice, and things +much worse than even cruelty, cowardice, and pride were brought to light, +and, at the same time, countenanced, they were in that case. What +availed the triumphant justification of the poor victim? There was at +first a roar of indignation against his oppressors, but how long did it +last? He had been turned out of the service, they remained in it with +their red coats and epaulets; he was merely the son of a man who had +rendered good service to his country, they were, for the most part, +highly connected--they were in the extremest degree genteel, he quite the +reverse; so the nation wavered, considered, thought the genteel side was +the safest after all, and then with the cry of, "Oh! there is nothing +like gentility," ratted bodily. Newspaper and public turned against the +victim, scouted him, apologized for the--what should they be called?--who +were not only admitted into the most respectable society, but courted to +come, the spots not merely of wine on their military clothes, giving them +a kind of poignancy. But there is a God in heaven; the British glories +are tarnished--Providence has never smiled on British arms since that +case--oh! Balaklava! thy name interpreted is net of fishes, and well +dost thou deserve that name. How many a scarlet golden fish has of late +perished in the mud amidst thee, cursing the genteel service, and the +genteel leader which brought him to such a doom. + +Whether the rage for gentility is most prevalent amongst the upper, +middle, or lower classes it is difficult to say; the priest in the text +seems to think that it is exhibited in the most decided manner in the +middle class; it is the writer's opinion, however, that in no class is it +more strongly developed than in the lower: what they call being well-born +goes a great way amongst them, but the possession of money much farther, +whence Mr. Flamson's influence over them. Their rage against, and scorn +for, any person who by his courage and talents has advanced himself in +life, and still remains poor, are indescribable; "he is no better than +ourselves," they say, "why should he be above us?"--for they have no +conception that anybody has a right to ascendency over themselves except +by birth or money. This feeling amongst the vulgar has been, to a +certain extent, the bane of two services, naval and military. The writer +does not make this assertion rashly; he observed this feeling at work in +the army when a child, and he has good reason for believing that it was +as strongly at work in the navy at the same time, and is still as +prevalent in both. Why are not brave men raised from the ranks? is +frequently the cry; why are not brave sailors promoted? The Lord help +brave soldiers and sailors who are promoted; they have less to undergo +from the high airs of their brother officers, and those are hard enough +to endure, than from the insolence of the men. Soldiers and sailors +promoted to command are said to be in general tyrants; in nine cases out +of ten, when they are tyrants, they have been obliged to have recourse to +extreme severity in order to protect themselves from the insolence and +mutinous spirit of the men,--"He is no better than ourselves: shoot him, +bayonet him, or fling him overboard!" they say of some obnoxious +individual raised above them by his merit. Soldiers and sailors, in +general, will bear any amount of tyranny from a lordly sot, or the son of +a man who has "plenty of brass"--their own term--but will mutiny against +the just orders of a skilful and brave officer who "is no better than +themselves." There was the affair of the "Bounty," for example: Bligh +was one of the best seamen that ever trod deck, and one of the bravest of +men; proofs of his seamanship he gave by steering, amidst dreadful +weather, a deeply-laden boat for nearly four thousand miles over an +almost unknown ocean--of his bravery, at the fight of Copenhagen, one of +the most desperate ever fought, of which after Nelson he was the hero: he +was, moreover, not an unkind man; but the crew of the "Bounty" mutinied +against him, and set him half naked in an open boat, with certain of his +men who remained faithful to him, and ran away with the ship. Their +principal motive for doing so was an idea, whether true or groundless the +writer cannot say, that Bligh was "no better than themselves;" he was +certainly neither a lord's illegitimate, nor possessed of twenty thousand +pounds. The writer knows what he is writing about, having been +acquainted in his early years with an individual who was turned adrift +with Bligh, and who died about the year '22, a lieutenant in the navy, in +a provincial town in which the writer was brought up. The ringleaders in +the mutiny were two scoundrels, Christian and Young, who had great +influence with the crew, because they were genteelly connected. Bligh, +after leaving the "Bounty," had considerable difficulty in managing the +men who had shared his fate, because they considered themselves "as good +men as he," notwithstanding, that to his conduct and seamanship they had +alone to look, under Heaven, for salvation from the ghastly perils that +surrounded them. Bligh himself, in his journal, alludes to this feeling. +Once, when he and his companions landed on a desert island, one of them +said, with a mutinous look, that he considered himself "as good a man as +he;" Bligh, seizing a cutlass, called upon him to take another and defend +himself, whereupon the man said that Bligh was going to kill him, and +made all manner of concessions; now why did this fellow consider himself +as good a man as Bligh? Was he as good a seaman? no, nor a tenth part as +good. As brave a man? no, nor a tenth part as brave; and of these facts +he was perfectly well aware, but bravery and seamanship stood for nothing +with him, as they still stand with thousands of his class; Bligh was not +genteel by birth or money, therefore Bligh was no better than himself. +Had Bligh, before he sailed, got a twenty-thousand pound prize in the +lottery, he would have experienced no insolence from this fellow, for +there would have been no mutiny in the "Bounty." "He is our betters," +the crew would have said, "and it is our duty to obey him." + +The wonderful power of gentility in England is exemplified in nothing +more than in what it is producing amongst Jews, Gypsies, and Quakers. It +is breaking up their venerable communities. All the better, some one +will say. Alas! alas! It is making the wealthy Jews forsake the +synagogue for the opera-house, or the gentility chapel, in which a +disciple of Mr. Platitude, in a white surplice, preaches a sermon at noon- +day from a desk, on each side of which is a flaming taper. It is making +them abandon their ancient literature, their "Mischna," their "Gemara," +their "Zohar," for gentility novels, "The Young Duke," the most +unexceptionably genteel book ever written, being the principal favourite. +It makes the young Jew ashamed of the young Jewess, it makes her ashamed +of the young Jew. The young Jew marries an opera-dancer, or if the +dancer will not have him, as is frequently the case, the cast-off Miss of +the Honourable Spencer So-and-so. It makes the young Jewess accept the +honourable offer of a cashiered lieutenant of the Bengal Native Infantry; +or, if such a person does not come forward, the dishonourable offer of a +cornet of a regiment of crack hussars. It makes poor Jews, male and +female, forsake the synagogue for the sixpenny theatre or penny hop; the +Jew to take up with an Irish female of loose character, and the Jewess +with a musician of the Guards, or the Tipperary servant of Captain +Mulligan. With respect to the gypsies, it is making the women what they +never were before--harlots; and the men what they never were +before--careless fathers and husbands. It has made the daughter of +Ursula the chaste take up with the base drummer of a wild-beast show. It +makes Gorgiko Brown, the gypsy man, leave his tent and his old wife, of +an evening, and thrust himself into society which could well dispense +with him. "Brother," said Mr. Petulengro to the Romany Rye, after +telling him many things connected with the decadence of gypsyism, "there +is one Gorgiko Brown, who, with a face as black as a tea-kettle, wishes +to be mistaken for a Christian tradesman; he goes into the parlour of a +third-rate inn of an evening, calls for rum and water, and attempts to +enter into conversation with the company about politics and business; the +company flout him and give him the cold shoulder, or perhaps complain to +the landlord, who comes and asks him what business he has in the parlour, +telling him if he wants to drink to go into the tap-room, and perhaps +collars him and kicks him out, provided he refuses to move." With +respect to the Quakers, it makes the young people like the young Jews, +crazy after gentility diversions, worship, marriages, or connections, and +makes old Pease do what it makes Gorgiko Brown do, thrust himself into +society which could well dispense with him, and out of which he is not +kicked, because unlike the gypsy he is not poor. The writer would say +much more on these points, but want of room prevents him; he must +therefore request the reader to have patience until he can lay before the +world a pamphlet, which he has been long meditating, to be entitled +"Remarks on the strikingly similar Effects which a Love for Gentility has +produced, and is producing, amongst Jews, Gypsies, and Quakers." + +The Priest in the book has much to say on the subject of this gentility- +nonsense; no person can possibly despise it more thoroughly than that +very remarkable individual seems to do, yet he hails its prevalence with +pleasure, knowing the benefits which will result from it to the church of +which he is the sneering slave. "The English are mad after gentility," +says he; "well, all the better for us; their religion for a long time +past has been a plain and simple one, and consequently by no means +genteel; they'll quit it for ours, which is the perfection of what they +admire; with which Templars, Hospitalers, mitred abbots, Gothic abbeys, +long-drawn aisles, golden censers, incense, et cetera, are connected; +nothing, or next to nothing, of Christ, it is true, but weighed in the +balance against gentility, where will Christianity be? why, kicking +against the beam--ho! ho!" And in connection with the +gentility-nonsense, he expatiates largely, and with much contempt, on a +species of literature by which the interests of his church in England +have been very much advanced--all genuine priests have a thorough +contempt for everything which tends to advance the interests of their +church--this literature is made up of pseudo Jacobitism, Charlie o'er the +waterism, or nonsense about Charlie o'er the water. And the writer will +now take the liberty of saying a few words about it on his own account. + + + +CHAPTER VI--On Scotch Gentility-Nonsense--Charlie o'er the Waterism. + + +Of the literature just alluded to Scott was the inventor. It is founded +on the fortunes and misfortunes of the Stuart family, of which Scott was +the zealous defender and apologist, doing all that in his power lay to +represent the members of it as noble, chivalrous, high-minded, +unfortunate princes; though, perhaps, of all the royal families that ever +existed upon the earth, this family was the worst. It was unfortunate +enough, it is true; but it owed its misfortunes entirely to its crimes, +viciousness, bad faith, and cowardice. Nothing will be said of it here +until it made its appearance in England to occupy the English throne. + +The first of the family which we have to do with, James, was a dirty, +cowardly miscreant, of whom the less said the better. His son, Charles +the First, was a tyrant--exceedingly cruel and revengeful, but weak and +dastardly; he caused a poor fellow to be hanged in London, who was not +his subject, because he had heard that the unfortunate creature had once +bitten his own glove at Cadiz, in Spain, at the mention of his name; and +he permitted his own bull-dog, Strafford, to be executed by his own +enemies, though the only crime of Strafford was, that he had barked +furiously at those enemies, and had worried two or three of them, when +Charles shouted, "Fetch 'em." He was a bitter, but yet a despicable +enemy, and the coldest and most worthless of friends; for though he +always hoped to be able, some time or other, to hang his enemies, he was +always ready to curry favour with them, more especially if he could do so +at the expense of his friends. He was the haughtiest, yet meanest of +mankind. He once caned a young nobleman for appearing before him in the +drawing-room not dressed exactly according to the court etiquette; yet he +condescended to flatter and compliment him who, from principle, was his +bitterest enemy, namely, Harrison, when the republican colonel was +conducting him as a prisoner to London. His bad faith was notorious; it +was from abhorrence of the first public instance which he gave of his bad +faith, his breaking his word to the Infanta of Spain, that the poor +Hiberno-Spaniard bit his glove at Cadiz; and it was his notorious bad +faith which eventually cost him his head; for the Republicans would +gladly have spared him, provided they could put the slightest confidence +in any promise, however solemn, which he might have made to them. Of +them, it would be difficult to say whether they most hated or despised +him. Religion he had none. One day he favoured Popery; the next, on +hearing certain clamours of the people, he sent his wife's domestics back +packing to France, because they were Papists. Papists, however, should +make him a saint, for he was certainly the cause of the taking of +Rochelle. + +His son, Charles the Second, though he passed his youth in the school of +adversity, learned no other lesson from it than the following one--take +care of yourself, and never do an action, either good or bad, which is +likely to bring you into any great difficulty; and this maxim he acted up +to as soon as he came to the throne. He was a Papist, but took especial +care not to acknowledge his religion, at which he frequently scoffed, +till just before his last gasp, when he knew that he could lose nothing, +and hoped to gain everything by it. He was always in want of money, but +took care not to tax the country beyond all endurable bounds; preferring +to such a bold and dangerous course, to become the pensioner of Louis, to +whom, in return for his gold, he sacrificed the honour and interests of +Britain. He was too lazy and sensual to delight in playing the part of a +tyrant himself; but he never checked tyranny in others save in one +instance. He permitted beastly butchers to commit unmentionable horrors +on the feeble, unarmed, and disunited Covenanters of Scotland, but +checked them when they would fain have endeavoured to play the same game +on the numerous united, dogged, and warlike Independents of England. To +show his filial piety, he bade the hangman dishonour the corpses of some +of his father's judges, before whom, when alive, he ran like a screaming +hare; but permitted those who had lost their all in supporting his +father's cause, to pine in misery and want. He would give to a painted +harlot a thousand pounds for a loathsome embrace, and to a player or +buffoon a hundred for a trumpery pun, but would refuse a penny to the +widow or orphan of an old Royalist soldier. He was the personification +of selfishness; and as he loved and cared for no one, so did no one love +or care for him. So little had he gained the respect or affection of +those who surrounded him, that after his body had undergone an +after-death examination, parts of it were thrown down the sinks of the +palace, to become eventually the prey of the swine and ducks of +Westminster. + +His brother, who succeeded him, James the Second, was a Papist, but +sufficiently honest to acknowledge his Popery, but upon the whole, he was +a poor creature; though a tyrant, he was cowardly, had he not been a +coward he would never have lost his throne. There were plenty of lovers +of tyranny in England who would have stood by him, provided he would have +stood by them, and would, though not Papists, have encouraged him in his +attempt to bring back England beneath the sway of Rome, and perhaps would +eventually have become Papists themselves; but the nation raising a cry +against him, and his son-in-law, the Prince of Orange, invading the +country, he forsook his friends, of whom he had a host, but for whom he +cared little--left his throne, for which he cared a great deal--and +Popery in England, for which he cared yet more, to their fate, and +escaped to France, from whence, after taking a little heart, he repaired +to Ireland, where he was speedily joined by a gallant army of Papists +whom he basely abandoned at the Boyne, running away in a most lamentable +condition, at the time when by showing a little courage he might have +enabled them to conquer. This worthy, in his last will, bequeathed his +heart to England--his right arm to Scotland--and his bowels to Ireland. +What the English and Scotch said to their respective bequests is not +known, but it is certain that an old Irish priest, supposed to have been +a great-grand-uncle of the present Reverend Father Murtagh, on hearing of +the bequest to Ireland, fell into a great passion, and having been +brought up at "Paris and Salamanca," expressed his indignation in the +following strain:--"Malditas sean tus tripas! teniamos bastante del olor +de tus tripas al tiempo de tu nuida dela batalla del Boyne!" + +His son, generally called the Old Pretender, though born in England, was +carried in his infancy to France, where he was brought up in the +strictest principles of Popery, which principles, however, did not +prevent him becoming (when did they ever prevent any one?) a worthless +and profligate scoundrel; there are some doubts as to the reality of his +being a son of James, which doubts are probably unfounded, the grand +proof of his legitimacy being the thorough baseness of his character. It +was said of his father that he could speak well, and it may be said of +him that he could write well, the only thing he could do which was worth +doing, always supposing that there is any merit in being able to write. +He was of a mean appearance, and, like his father, pusillanimous to a +degree. The meanness of his appearance disgusted, and his pusillanimity +discouraged the Scotch when he made his appearance amongst them in the +year 1715, some time after the standard of rebellion had been hoisted by +Mar. He only stayed a short time in Scotland, and then, seized with +panic, retreated to France, leaving his friends to shift for themselves +as they best could. He died a pensioner of the Pope. + +The son of this man, Charles Edward, of whom so much in later years has +been said and written, was a worthless ignorant youth, and a profligate +and illiterate old man. When young, the best that can be said of him is, +that he had occasionally springs of courage, invariably at the wrong time +and place, which merely served to lead his friends into inextricable +difficulties. When old, he was loathsome and contemptible to both friend +and foe. His wife loathed him, and for the most terrible of reasons; she +did not pollute his couch, for to do that was impossible--he had made it +so vile; but she betrayed it, inviting to it not only Alfieri the Filthy, +but the coarsest grooms. Doctor King, the warmest and almost last +adherent of his family, said, that there was not a vice or crime of which +he was not guilty; as for his foes, they scorned to harm him even when in +their power. In the year 1745 he came down from the Highlands of +Scotland, which had long been a focus of rebellion. He was attended by +certain clans of the Highlands, desperadoes used to free-bootery from +their infancy, and, consequently, to the use of arms, and possessed of a +certain species of discipline; with these he defeated at Prestonpans a +body of men called soldiers, but who were in reality peasants and +artizans, levied about a month before, without discipline or confidence +in each other, and who were miserably massacred by the Highland army; he +subsequently invaded England, nearly destitute of regular soldiers, and +penetrated as far as Derby, from which place he retreated on learning +that regular forces which had been hastily recalled from Flanders were +coming against him, with the Duke of Cumberland at their head; he was +pursued, and his rearguard overtaken and defeated by the dragoons of the +duke at Clifton, from which place the rebels retreated in great confusion +across the Eden into Scotland, where they commenced dancing Highland +reels and strathspeys on the bank of the river, for joy at their escape, +whilst a number of wretched girls, paramours of some of them, were +perishing in the waters of the swollen river in an attempt to follow +them; they themselves passed over by eighties and by hundreds, arm in +arm, for mutual safety, without the loss of a man, but they left the poor +paramours to shift for themselves, nor did any of these canny people +after passing the stream dash back to rescue a single female life,--no, +they were too well employed upon the bank in dancing strathspeys to the +tune of "Charlie o'er the water." It was, indeed, Charlie o'er the +water, and canny Highlanders o'er the water, but where were the poor +prostitutes meantime? _In the water_. + +The Jacobite farce, or tragedy, was speedily brought to a close by the +battle of Culloden; there did Charlie wish himself back again o'er the +water, exhibiting the most unmistakable signs of pusillanimity; there +were the clans cut to pieces, at least those who could be brought to the +charge, and there fell Giles Mac Bean, or as he was called in Gaelic, +Giliosa Mac Beathan, a kind of giant, six feet four inches and a quarter +high, "than whom," as his wife said in a coronach she made upon him, "no +man who stood at Cuiloitr was taller"--Giles Mac Bean the Major of the +clan Cattan--a great drinker--a great fisher--a great shooter, and the +champion of the Highland host. + +The last of the Stuarts was a cardinal. + +Such were the Stuarts, such their miserable history. They were dead and +buried in every sense of the word until Scott resuscitated them--how? by +the power of fine writing and by calling to his aid that strange +divinity, gentility. He wrote splendid novels about the Stuarts, in +which he represents them as unlike what they really were as the graceful +and beautiful papillon is unlike the hideous and filthy worm. In a word, +he made them genteel, and that was enough to give them paramount sway +over the minds of the British people. The public became Stuart-mad, and +everybody, specially the women, said, "What a pity it was that we hadn't +a Stuart to govern." All parties, Whig, Tory, or Radical, became +Jacobite at heart, and admirers of absolute power. The Whigs talked +about the liberty of the subject, and the Radicals about the rights of +man still, but neither party cared a straw for what it talked about, and +mentally swore that, as soon as by means of such stuff they could get +places, and fill their pockets, they would be as Jacobite as the Jacobs +themselves. As for Tories, no great change in them was necessary; +everything favouring absolutism and slavery being congenial to them. So +the whole nation, that is, the reading part of the nation, with some +exceptions, for thank God there has always been some salt in England, +went over the water to Charlie. But going over to Charlie was not +enough, they must, or at least a considerable part of them, go over to +Rome too, or have a hankering to do so. As the Priest sarcastically +observes in the text, "As all the Jacobs were Papists, so the good folks +who through Scott's novels admire the Jacobs must be Papists too." An +idea got about that the religion of such genteel people as the Stuarts +must be the climax of gentility, and that idea was quite sufficient. Only +let a thing, whether temporal or spiritual, be considered genteel in +England, and if it be not followed it is strange indeed; so Scott's +writings not only made the greater part of the nation Jacobite, but +Popish. + +Here some people will exclaim--whose opinions remain sound and +uncontaminated--what you say is perhaps true with respect to the Jacobite +nonsense at present so prevalent being derived from Scott's novels, but +the Popish nonsense, which people of the genteeler classes are so fond +of, is derived from Oxford. We sent our sons to Oxford nice honest lads, +educated in the principles of the Church of England, and at the end of +the first term they came home puppies, talking Popish nonsense, which +they had learned from the pedants to whose care we had entrusted them; +ay, not only Popery but Jacobitism, which they hardly carried with them +from home, for we never heard them talking Jacobitism before they had +been at Oxford; but now their conversation is a farrago of Popish and +Jacobite stuff--"Complines and Claverse." Now, what these honest folks +say is, to a certain extent, founded on fact; the Popery which has +overflowed the land during the last fourteen or fifteen years, has come +immediately from Oxford, and likewise some of the Jacobitism, Popish and +Jacobite nonsense, and little or nothing else, having been taught at +Oxford for about that number of years. But whence did the pedants get +the Popish nonsense with which they have corrupted youth? Why, from the +same quarter from which they got the Jacobite nonsense with which they +have inoculated those lads who were not inoculated with it before--Scott's +novels. Jacobitism and Laudism, a kind of half Popery, had at one time +been very prevalent at Oxford, but both had been long consigned to +oblivion there, and people at Oxford cared as little about Laud as they +did about the Pretender. Both were dead and buried there, as everywhere +else, till Scott called them out of their graves, when the pedants of +Oxford hailed both--ay, and the Pope, too, as soon as Scott had made the +old fellow fascinating, through particular novels, more especially the +"Monastery" and "Abbot." Then the quiet, respectable, honourable Church +of England would no longer do for the pedants of Oxford; they must belong +to a more genteel church--they were ashamed at first to be downright +Romans--so they would be Lauds. The pale-looking, but exceedingly +genteel non-juring clergyman in Waverley was a Laud; but they soon became +tired of being Lauds, for Laud's Church, gew-gawish and idolatrous as it +was, was not sufficiently tinselly and idolatrous for them, so they must +be Popes, but in a sneaking way, still calling themselves +Church-of-England men, in order to batten on the bounty of the church +which they were betraying, and likewise have opportunities of corrupting +such lads as might still resort to Oxford with principles uncontaminated. + +So the respectable people, whose opinions are still sound, are, to a +certain extent, right when they say that the tide of Popery, which has +flowed over the land, has come from Oxford. It did come immediately from +Oxford, but how did it get to Oxford? Why, from Scott's novels. Oh! +that sermon which was the first manifestation of Oxford feeling, preached +at Oxford some time in the year '38 by a divine of a weak and confused +intellect, in which Popery was mixed up with Jacobitism! The present +writer remembers perfectly well, on reading some extracts from it at the +time in a newspaper, on the top of a coach, exclaiming--"Why, the +simpleton has been pilfering from Walter Scott's novels!" + +O Oxford pedants! Oxford pedants! ye whose politics and religion are +both derived from Scott's novels! what a pity it is that some lad of +honest parents, whose mind ye are endeavouring to stultify with your +nonsense about "Complines and Claverse," has not the spirit to start up +and cry, "Confound your gibberish! I'll have none of it. Hurrah for the +Church, and the principles of my _father_!" + + + +CHAPTER VII--Same Subject continued. + + +Now what could have induced Scott to write novels tending to make people +Papists and Jacobites, and in love with arbitrary power? Did he think +that Christianity was a gaudy mummery? He did not, he could not, for he +had read the Bible; yet was he fond of gaudy mummeries, fond of talking +about them. Did he believe that the Stuarts were a good family, and fit +to govern a country like Britain? He knew that they were a vicious, +worthless crew, and that Britain was a degraded country as long as they +swayed the sceptre; but for those facts he cared nothing, they governed +in a way which he liked, for he had an abstract love of despotism, and an +abhorrence of everything savouring of freedom and the rights of man in +general. His favourite political picture was a joking, profligate, +careless king, nominally absolute--the heads of great houses paying court +to, but in reality governing, that king, whilst revelling with him on the +plunder of a nation, and a set of crouching, grovelling vassals (the +literal meaning of vassal is a wretch), who, after allowing themselves to +be horsewhipped, would take a bone if flung to them, and be grateful; so +that in love with mummery, though he knew what Christianity was, no +wonder he admired such a church as that of Rome, and that which Laud set +up; and by nature formed to be the holder of the candle to ancient worm- +eaten and profligate families, no wonder that all his sympathies were +with the Stuarts and their dissipated insolent party, and all his hatred +directed against those who endeavoured to check them in their +proceedings, and to raise the generality of mankind something above a +state of vassalage, that is, wretchedness. Those who were born great, +were, if he could have had his will, always to remain great, however +worthless their characters. Those who were born low, were always to +remain so, however great their talents; though, if that rule were carried +out, where would he have been himself? + +In the book which he called the "History of Napoleon Bonaparte," in which +he plays the sycophant to all the legitimate crowned heads in Europe, +whatever their crimes, vices, or miserable imbecilities, he, in his +abhorrence of everything low which by its own vigour makes itself +illustrious, calls Murat of the sabre the son of a pastry-cook, of a +Marseilleise pastry-cook. It is a pity that people who give themselves +hoity-toity airs--and the Scotch in general are wonderfully addicted to +giving themselves hoity-toity airs, and checking people better than +themselves with their birth {6} and their country--it is a great pity +that such people do not look at home-son of a pastry-cook, of a +Marseilleise pastry-cook! Well, and what was Scott himself? Why, son of +a pettifogger, of an Edinburgh pettifogger. "Oh, but Scott was descended +from the old cow-stealers of Buccleuch, and therefore--" descended from +old cow-stealers, was he? Well, had he nothing to boast of beyond such a +pedigree, he would have lived and died the son of a pettifogger, and been +forgotten, and deservedly so; but he possessed talents, and by his +talents rose like Murat, and like him will be remembered for his talents +alone, and deservedly so. "Yes, but Murat was still the son of a pastry- +cook, and though he was certainly good at the sabre, and cut his way to a +throne, still--" Lord! what fools there are in the world; but as no one +can be thought anything of in this world without a pedigree, the writer +will now give a pedigree for Murat, of a very different character from +the cow-stealing one of Scott, but such a one as the proudest he might +not disdain to claim. Scott was descended from the old cow-stealers of +Buccleuch--was he? Good! and Murat was descended from the old Moors of +Spain, from the Abencerages (sons of the saddle) of Granada. The name +Murat is Arabic, and is the same as Murad (Le Desire, or the wished-for +one). Scott in his genteel Life of Bonaparte, says that "when Murat was +in Egypt, the similarity between the name of the celebrated Mameluke +Mourad and that of Bonaparte's Meilleur Sabreur was remarked, and became +the subject of jest amongst the comrades of the gallant Frenchman." But +the writer of the novel of Bonaparte did not know that the names were one +and the same. Now which was the best pedigree, that of the son of the +pastry-cook, or that of the son of the pettifogger? Which was the best +blood? Let us observe the workings of the two bloods. He who had the +blood of the "sons of the saddle" in him, became the wonderful cavalier +of the most wonderful host that ever went forth to conquest, won for +himself a crown, and died the death of a soldier, leaving behind him a +son, only inferior to himself in strength, in prowess, and in +horsemanship. The descendant of the cow-stealer became a poet, a novel +writer, the panegyrist of great folk and genteel people; became insolvent +because, though an author, he deemed it ungenteel to be mixed up with the +business part of the authorship; died paralytic and broken-hearted +because he could no longer give entertainments to great folks, leaving +behind him, amongst other children, who were never heard of, a son, who, +through his father's interest, had become lieutenant-colonel in a genteel +cavalry regiment. A son who was ashamed of his father because his father +was an author; a son who--paugh--why ask which was the best blood? + +So, owing to his rage for gentility, Scott must needs become the +apologist of the Stuarts and their party; but God made this man pay +dearly for taking the part of the wicked against the good; for lauding up +to the skies the miscreants and robbers, and calumniating the noble +spirits of Britain, the salt of England, and his own country. As God had +driven the Stuarts from their throne, and their followers from their +estates, making them vagabonds and beggars on the face of the earth, +taking from them all that they cared for, so did that same God, who knows +perfectly well how and where to strike, deprive the apologist of that +wretched crew of all that rendered life pleasant in his eyes, the lack of +which paralysed him in body and mind, rendered him pitiable to others, +loathsome to himself,--so much so, that he once said, "Where is the +beggar who would change places with me, notwithstanding all my fame?" Ah! +God knows perfectly well how to strike. He permitted him to retain all +his literary fame to the very last--his literary fame for which he cared +nothing; but what became of the sweetness of life, his fine house, his +grand company, and his entertainments? The grand house ceased to be his; +he was only permitted to live in it on sufferance, and whatever grandeur +it might still retain, it soon became as desolate a looking house as any +misanthrope could wish to see--where were the grand entertainments and +the grand company? there are no grand entertainments where there is no +money; no lords and ladies where there are no entertainments--and there +lay the poor lodger in the desolate house, groaning on a bed no longer +his, smitten by the hand of God in the part where he was most vulnerable. +Of what use telling such a man to take comfort, for he had written the +"Minstrel" and "Rob Roy,"--telling him to think of his literary fame? +Literary fame, indeed! he wanted back his lost gentility:-- + + "Retain my altar, + I care nothing for it--but, oh! touch not my _beard_." + + PORNY'S _War of the Gods_. + +He dies, his children die too, and then comes the crowning judgment of +God on what remains of his race and the house which he had built. He was +not a Papist himself, nor did he wish any one belonging to him to be +Popish, for he had read enough of the Bible to know that no one can be +saved through Popery, yet had he a sneaking affection for it, and would +at times in an underhand manner, give it a good word both in writing and +discourse, because it was a gaudy kind of worship, and ignorance and +vassalage prevailed so long as it flourished--but he certainly did not +wish any of his people to become Papists, nor the house which he had +built to become a Popish house, though the very name he gave it savoured +of Popery; but Popery becomes fashionable through his novels and +poems--the only one that remains of his race, a female grandchild, +marries a person who, following the fashion, becomes a Papist, and makes +her a Papist too. Money abounds with the husband, who buys the house, +and then the house becomes the rankest Popish house in Britain. A +superstitious person might almost imagine that one of the old Scottish +Covenanters, whilst the grand house was being built from the profits +resulting from the sale of writings favouring Popery and persecution, and +calumniatory of Scotland's saints and martyrs, had risen from the grave, +and banned Scott, his race, and his house, by reading a certain psalm. + +In saying what he has said about Scott, the author has not been +influenced by any feeling of malice or ill-will, but simply by a regard +for truth, and a desire to point out to his countrymen the harm which has +resulted from the perusal of his works;--he is not one of those who would +depreciate the talents of Scott--he admires his talents, both as a prose +writer and a poet; as a poet especially he admires him, and believes him +to have been by far the greatest, with perhaps the exception of +Mickiewicz, who only wrote for unfortunate Poland, that Europe has given +birth to during the last hundred years. As a prose writer he admires +him, less, it is true, but his admiration for him in that capacity is +very high, and he only laments that he prostituted his talents to the +cause of the Stuarts and gentility. What book of fiction of the present +century can you read twice, with the exception of "Waverley" and "Rob +Roy?" There is "Pelham," it is true, which the writer of these lines has +seen a Jewess reading in the steppe of Debreczin, and which a young +Prussian Baron, a great traveller, whom he met at Constantinople in '44 +told him he always carried in his valise. And, in conclusion, he will +say, in order to show the opinion which he entertains of the power of +Scott as a writer, that he did for the sceptre of the wretched Pretender +what all the kings of Europe could not do for his body--placed it on the +throne of these realms; and for Popery, what Popes and Cardinals strove +in vain to do for three centuries--brought back its mummeries and +nonsense into the temples of the British Isles. + +Scott during his lifetime had a crowd of imitators, who, whether they +wrote history so called--poetry so called--or novels--nobody would call a +book a novel if he could call it anything else--wrote Charlie o'er the +water nonsense; and now that he has been dead nearly a quarter of a +century, there are others daily springing up who are striving to imitate +Scott in his Charlie o'er the water nonsense--for nonsense it is, even +when flowing from his pen. They, too, must write Jacobite histories, +Jacobite songs, and Jacobite novels, and much the same figure as the +scoundrel menials in the comedy cut when personating their masters, and +retailing their masters' conversation, do they cut as Walter Scotts. In +their histories, they too talk about the Prince and Glenfinnan, and the +pibroch; and in their songs about "Claverse" and "Bonny Dundee." But +though they may be Scots, they are not Walter Scotts. But it is perhaps +chiefly in the novel that you see the veritable hog in armour; the time +of the novel is of course the '15 or '45; the hero a Jacobite, and +connected with one or other of the enterprises of those periods; and the +author, to show how unprejudiced he is, and what _original_ views he +takes of subjects, must needs speak up for Popery, whenever he has +occasion to mention it; though, with all his originality, when he brings +his hero and the vagabonds with which he is concerned before a +barricadoed house, belonging to the Whigs, he can make them get into it +by no other method than that which Scott makes his rioters employ to get +into the Tolbooth, _burning down_ the door. + +To express the more than utter foolishness of this latter Charlie o'er +the water nonsense, whether in rhyme or prose, there is but one word, and +that word a Scotch word. Scotch, the sorriest of jargons, compared with +which even Roth Welsch is dignified and expressive, has yet one word to +express what would be inexpressible by any word or combination of words +in any language, or in any other jargon in the world; and very properly; +for as the nonsense is properly Scotch, so should the word be Scotch +which expresses it--that word is "fushionless," pronounced +_fooshionless_; and when the writer has called the nonsense +fooshionless--and he does call it fooshionless--he has nothing more to +say, but leaves the nonsense to its fate. + + + +CHAPTER VIII--On Canting Nonsense. + + +The writer now wishes to say something on the subject of canting +nonsense, of which there is a great deal in England. There are various +cants in England, amongst which is the religious cant. He is not going +to discuss the subject of religious cant: lest, however, he should be +misunderstood, he begs leave to repeat that he is a sincere member of the +Church of England, in which he believes there is more religion, and +consequently less cant, than in any other church in the world; nor is he +going to discuss many other cants; he shall content himself with saying +something about two--the temperance cant and the unmanly cant. Temperance +canters say that "it is unlawful to drink a glass of ale." Unmanly +canters say that "it is unlawful to use one's fists." The writer begs +leave to tell both these species of canters that they do not speak words +of truth. + +It is very lawful to take a cup of ale, or wine, for the purpose of +cheering or invigorating yourself when you are faint and down-hearted; +and likewise to give a cup of ale or wine to others when they are in a +similar condition. The Holy Scripture sayeth nothing to the contrary, +but rather encourageth people in so doing by the text, "Wine maketh glad +the heart of man." But it is not lawful to intoxicate yourself with +frequent cups of ale or wine, nor to make others intoxicated, nor does +the Holy Scripture say it is. The Holy Scripture no more says that it is +lawful to intoxicate yourself or others, than it says that it is unlawful +to take a cup of ale or wine yourself, or to give one to others. Noah is +not commended in the Scripture for making himself drunken on the wine he +brewed. Nor is it said that the Saviour, when he supplied the guests +with first-rate wine at the marriage-feast, told them to make themselves +drunk upon it. He is said to have supplied them with first-rate wine, +but He doubtless left the quantity which each should drink to each +party's reason and discretion. When you set a good dinner before your +guests, you do not expect that they should gorge themselves with the +victuals you set before them. Wine may be abused, and so may a leg of +mutton. + +Second. It is lawful for any one to use his fists in his own defence, or +in the defence of others, provided they can't help themselves; but it is +not lawful to use them for purposes of tyranny or brutality. If you are +attacked by a ruffian, as the elderly individual in Lavengro is in the +inn-yard, it is quite lawful, if you can, to give him as good a thrashing +as the elderly individual gave the brutal coachman; and if you see a +helpless woman--perhaps your own sister--set upon by a drunken lord, a +drunken coachman, or a drunken coalheaver, or a brute of any description, +either drunk or sober, it is not only lawful but laudable, to give them, +if you can, a good drubbing; but it is not lawful because you have a +strong pair of fists, and know how to use them, to go swaggering through +a fair, jostling against unoffending individuals; should you do so, you +would be served quite right if you were to get a drubbing, more +particularly if you were served out by some one less strong, but more +skilful than yourself--even as the coachman was served out by a pupil of +the immortal Broughton--sixty years old, it is true, but possessed of +Broughton's guard and chop. Moses is not blamed in the Scripture for +taking part with the oppressed, and killing an Egyptian persecutor. We +are not told how Moses killed the Egyptian; but it is quite as creditable +to Moses to suppose that he killed the Egyptian by giving him a buffet +under the left ear, as by stabbing him with a knife. It is true that the +Saviour in the New Testament tells His disciples to turn the left cheek +to be smitten, after they had received a blow on the right; but He was +speaking to people divinely inspired, or whom He intended divinely to +inspire--people selected by God for a particular purpose. He likewise +tells these people to part with various articles of raiment when asked +for them, and to go a-travelling without money, and take no thought of +the morrow. Are those exhortations carried out by very good people in +the present day? Do Quakers, when smitten on the right cheek, turn the +left to the smiter? When asked for their coat, do they say, "Friend, +take my shirt also?" Has the Dean of Salisbury no purse? Does the +Archbishop of Canterbury go to an inn, run up a reckoning, and then say +to his landlady, "Mistress, I have no coin?" Assuredly the Dean has a +purse, and a tolerably well-filled one; and, assuredly, the Archbishop, +on departing from an inn, not only settles his reckoning, but leaves +something handsome for the servants, and does not say that he is +forbidden by the gospel to pay for what he has eaten, or the trouble he +has given, as a certain Spanish cavalier said he was forbidden by the +statutes of chivalry. Now, to take the part of yourself, or the part of +the oppressed, with your fists, is quite as lawful in the present day as +it is to refuse your coat and shirt also to any vagabond who may ask for +them, and not to refuse to pay for supper, bed, and breakfast, at the +Feathers, or any other inn, after you have had the benefit of all three. + +The conduct of Lavengro with respect to drink may, upon the whole, serve +as a model. He is no drunkard, nor is he fond of intoxicating other +people; yet when the horrors are upon him he has no objection to go to a +public-house and call for a pint of ale, nor does he shrink from +recommending ale to others when they are faint and downcast. In one +instance, it is true, he does what cannot be exactly justified; he +encourages the Priest in the dingle, in more instances than one, in +drinking more hollands and water than is consistent with decorum. He has +a motive indeed in doing so; a desire to learn from the knave in his cups +the plans and hopes of the Propaganda of Rome. Such conduct, however, +was inconsistent with strict fair dealing and openness; and the author +advises all those whose consciences never reproach them for a single +unfair or covert act committed by them, to abuse him heartily for +administering hollands and water to the Priest of Rome. In that instance +the hero is certainly wrong; yet in all other cases with regard to drink, +he is manifestly right. To tell people that they are never to drink a +glass of ale or wine themselves, or to give one to others, is cant; and +the writer has no toleration for cant of any description. Some cants are +not dangerous; but the writer believes that a more dangerous cant than +the temperance cant, or as it is generally called, teetotalism, is +scarcely to be found. The writer is willing to believe that it +originated with well meaning, though weak people; but there can be no +doubt that it was quickly turned to account by people who were neither +well meaning nor weak. Let the reader note particularly the purpose to +which this cry has been turned in America; the land, indeed, par +excellence, of humbug and humbug cries. It is there continually in the +mouth of the most violent political party, and is made an instrument of +almost unexampled persecution. The writer would say more on the +temperance cant, both in England and America, but want of space prevents +him. There is one point on which he cannot avoid making a few brief +remarks--that is, the inconsistent conduct of its apostles in general. +The teetotal apostle says, it is a dreadful thing to be drunk. So it is, +teetotaller; but if so, why do you get drunk? I get drunk? Yes, unhappy +man, why do you get drunk on smoke and passion? Why are your garments +impregnated with the odour of the Indian weed? Why is there a pipe or a +cigar always in your mouth? Why is your language more dreadful than that +of a Poissarde? Tobacco-smoke is more deleterious than ale, teetotaller; +bile more potent than brandy. You are fond of telling your hearers what +an awful thing it is to die drunken. So it is, teetotaller. Then take +good care that you do not die with smoke and passion, drunken, and with +temperance language on your lips; that is, abuse and calumny against all +those who differ from you. One word of sense you have been heard to say, +which is, that spirits may be taken as a medicine. Now you are in a +fever of passion, teetotaller; so, pray take this tumbler of brandy; take +it on the homoeopathic principle, that heat is to be expelled by heat. +You are in a temperance fury, so swallow the contents of this tumbler, +and it will, perhaps, cure you. You look at the glass wistfully--you +occasionally take a glass medicinally--and it is probable you do. Take +one now. Consider what a dreadful thing it would be to die passion +drunk; to appear before your Maker with intemperate language on your +lips. That's right! You don't seem to wince at the brandy. That's +right!--well done! All down in two pulls. Now you look like a +reasonable being! + +If the conduct of Lavengro with regard to drink is open to little +censure, assuredly the use which he makes of his fists is entitled to +none at all. Because he has a pair of tolerably strong fists, and knows +to a certain extent how to use them, is he a swaggerer or oppressor? To +what ill account does he turn them? Who more quiet, gentle, and +inoffensive than he? He beats off a ruffian who attacks him in a dingle; +has a kind of friendly tuzzle with Mr. Petulengro, and behold the extent +of his fistic exploits. + +Ay, but he associates with prize-fighters; and that very fellow, +Petulengro, is a prize-fighter, and has fought for a stake in a ring. +Well, and if he had not associated with prize-fighters, how could he have +used his fists? Oh, anybody can use his fists in his own defence, +without being taught by prize-fighters. Can they? Then why does not the +Italian, or Spaniard, or Affghan use his fists when insulted or outraged, +instead of having recourse to the weapons which he has recourse to? +Nobody can use his fists without being taught the use of them by those +who have themselves been taught, no more than any one can "whiffle" +without being taught by a master of the art. Now let any man of the +present day try to whiffle. Would not any one who wished to whiffle have +to go to a master of the art? Assuredly! but where would he find one at +the present day? The last of the whifflers hanged himself about a +fortnight ago on a bell-rope in a church steeple of "the old town," from +pure grief that there was no further demand for the exhibition of his +art, there being no demand for whiffling since the discontinuation of +Guildhall banquets. Whiffling is lost. The old chap left his sword +behind him; let any one take up the old chap's sword and try to whiffle. +Now much the same hand as he would make who should take up the whiffler's +sword and try to whiffle, would he who should try to use his fists who +had never had the advantage of a master. Let no one think that men use +their fists naturally in their own disputes--men have naturally recourse +to any other thing to defend themselves or to offend others; they fly to +the stick, to the stone, to the murderous and cowardly knife, or to abuse +as cowardly as the knife, and occasionally more murderous. Now which is +best when you hate a person, or have a pique against a person, to clench +your fist and say "Come on," or to have recourse to the stone, the +knife,--or murderous calumny? The use of the fist is almost lost in +England. Yet are the people better than they were when they knew how to +use their fists? The writer believes not. A fisty combat is at present +a great rarity, but the use of the knife, the noose, and of poison, to +say nothing of calumny, are of more frequent occurrence in England than +perhaps in any country in Europe. Is polite taste better than when it +could bear the details of a fight? The writer believes not. Two men +cannot meet in a ring to settle a dispute in a manly manner without some +trumpery local newspaper letting loose a volley of abuse against "the +disgraceful exhibition," in which abuse it is sure to be sanctioned by +its dainty readers; whereas some murderous horror, the discovery for +example of the mangled remains of a woman in some obscure den, is +greedily seized hold of by the moral journal, and dressed up for its +readers, who luxuriate and gloat upon the ghastly dish. Now, the writer +of Lavengro has no sympathy with those who would shrink from striking a +blow, but would not shrink from the use of poison or calumny; and his +taste has little in common with that which cannot tolerate the hardy +details of a prize-fight, but which luxuriates on descriptions of the +murder dens of modern England. But prize-fighters and pugilists are +blackguards, a reviewer has said; and blackguards they would be provided +they employed their skill and their prowess for purposes of brutality and +oppression; but prize-fighters and pugilists are seldom friends to +brutality and oppression; and which is the blackguard, the writer would +ask, he who uses his fists to take his own part, or instructs others to +use theirs for the same purpose, or the being who from envy and malice, +or at the bidding of a malicious scoundrel, endeavours by calumny, +falsehood, and misrepresentation to impede the efforts of lonely and +unprotected genius? + +One word more about the race, all but extinct, of the people +opprobriously called prize-fighters. Some of them have been as noble, +kindly men as the world ever produced. Can the rolls of the English +aristocracy exhibit names belonging to more noble, more heroic men than +those who were called respectively Pearce, Cribb, and Spring? Did ever +one of the English aristocracy contract the seeds of fatal consumption by +rushing up the stairs of a burning edifice, even to the topmost garret, +and rescuing a woman from seemingly inevitable destruction? The writer +says no. A woman was rescued from the top of a burning house; but the +man who rescued her was no aristocrat; it was Pearce, not Percy, who ran +up the burning stairs. Did ever one of those glittering ones save a +fainting female from the libidinous rage of six ruffians? The writer +believes not. A woman was rescued from the libidinous fury of six +monsters on --- Down; but the man who rescued her was no aristocrat; it +was Pearce not Paulet, who rescued the woman, and thrashed my lord's six +gamekeepers--Pearce, whose equal never was, and probably never will be, +found in sturdy combat. Are there any of the aristocracy of whom it can +be said that they never did a cowardly, cruel, or mean action, and that +they invariably took the part of the unfortunate and weak against cruelty +and oppression? As much can be said of Cribb, of Spring, and the other; +but where is the aristocrat of whom as much can be said? Wellington? +Wellington indeed! a skilful general, and a good man of valour, it is +true, but with that cant word of "duty" continually on his lips, did he +rescue Ney from his butchers? Did he lend a helping hand to Warner? + +In conclusion, the writer would advise those of his country-folks who +read his book to have nothing to do with the two kinds of canting +nonsense described above, but in their progress through life to enjoy as +well as they can, but always with moderation, the good things of this +world, to put confidence in God, to be as independent as possible, and to +take their own parts. If they are low-spirited, let them not make +themselves foolish by putting on sackcloth, drinking water, or chewing +ashes, but let them take wholesome exercise, and eat the most generous +food they can get, taking up and reading occasionally, not the lives of +Ignatius Loyola and Francis Spira, but something more agreeable; for +example, the life and adventures of Mr. Duncan Campbell, the deaf and +dumb gentleman; the travels of Captain Falconer in America, and the +journal of John Randall, who went to Virginia and married an Indian wife; +not forgetting, amidst their eating and drinking, their walks over +heaths, and by the sea-side, and their agreeable literature, to be +charitable to the poor, to read the Psalms and to go to church twice on a +Sunday. In their dealings with people, to be courteous to everybody, as +Lavengro was, but always independent like him; and if people meddle with +them, to give them as good as they bring, even as he and Isopel Berners +were in the habit of doing; and it will be as well for him to observe +that he by no means advises women to be too womanly, but bearing the +conduct of Isopel Berners in mind, to take their own parts, and if +anybody strikes them, to strike again. + +Beating of women by the lords of the creation has become very prevalent +in England since pugilism has been discountenanced. Now the writer +strongly advises any woman who is struck by a ruffian to strike him +again; or if she cannot clench her fists, and he advises all women in +these singular times to learn to clench their fists, to go at him with +tooth and nail, and not to be afraid of the result, for any fellow who is +dastard enough to strike a woman, would allow himself to be beaten by a +woman, were she to make at him in self-defence, even if, instead of +possessing the stately height and athletic proportions of the aforesaid +Isopel, she were as diminutive in stature, and had a hand as delicate, +and foot as small, as a certain royal lady, who was some time ago +assaulted by a fellow upwards of six feet high, whom the writer has no +doubt she could have beaten had she thought proper to go at him. Such is +the deliberate advice of the author to his countrymen and women--advice +in which he believes there is nothing unscriptural or repugnant to common +sense. + +The writer is perfectly well aware that, by the plain language which he +has used in speaking of the various kinds of nonsense prevalent in +England, he shall make himself a multitude of enemies; but he is not +going to conceal the truth or to tamper with nonsense, from the fear of +provoking hostility. He has a duty to perform and he will perform it +resolutely; he is the person who carried the Bible to Spain; and as +resolutely as he spoke in Spain against the superstitions of Spain, will +he speak in England against the nonsense of his own native land. He is +not one of those who, before they sit down to write a book, say to +themselves, what cry shall we take up? what principles shall we advocate? +what principles shall we abuse? before we put pen to paper we must find +out what cry is the loudest, what principle has the most advocates, +otherwise, after having written our book, we may find ourselves on the +weaker side. + +A sailor of the "Bounty," waked from his sleep by the noise of the +mutiny, lay still in his hammock for some time, quite undecided whether +to take part with the captain or to join the mutineers. "I must mind +what I do," said he to himself, "lest, in the end, I find myself on the +weaker side;" finally, on hearing that the mutineers were successful, he +went on deck, and seeing Bligh pinioned to the mast, he put his fist to +his nose, and otherwise insulted him. Now, there are many writers of the +present day whose conduct is very similar to that of the sailor. They +lie listening in their corners till they have ascertained which principle +has most advocates; then, presently, they make their appearance on the +deck of the world with their book; if truth has been victorious, then has +truth the hurrah! but if truth is pinioned against the mast, then is +their fist thrust against the nose of truth, and their gibe and their +insult spirted in her face. The strongest party had the sailor, and the +strongest party has almost invariably the writer of the present day. + + + +CHAPTER IX--Pseudo-Critics. + + +A certain set of individuals calling themselves critics have attacked +Lavengro with much virulence and malice. If what they call criticism had +been founded on truth, the author would have had nothing to say. The +book contains plenty of blemishes, some of them, by the bye, wilful ones, +as the writer will presently show; not one of these, however, has been +detected and pointed out; but the best passages in the book, indeed +whatever was calculated to make the book valuable, have been assailed +with abuse and misrepresentation. The duty of the true critic is to play +the part of a leech, and not of a viper. Upon true and upon malignant +criticism there is an excellent fable by the Spaniard Iriarte. The viper +says to the leech, "Why do people invite your bite, and flee from mine?" +"Because," says the leech, "people receive health from my bite, and +poison from yours." "There is as much difference," says the clever +Spaniard, "between true and malignant criticism, as between poison and +medicine." Certainly a great many meritorious writers have allowed +themselves to be poisoned by malignant criticism; the writer, however, is +not one of those who allow themselves to be poisoned by pseudo-critics; +no! no! he will rather hold them up by their tails, and show the +creatures wriggling, blood and foam streaming from their broken jaws. +First of all, however, he will notice one of their objections. "The book +isn't true," say they. Now one of the principal reasons with those that +have attacked Lavengro for their abuse of it is, that it is particularly +true in one instance, namely, that it exposes their own nonsense, their +love of humbug, their slavishness, their dressings, their goings out, +their scraping and bowing to great people; it is the showing up of +"gentility-nonsense" in Lavengro that has been one principal reason for +raising the above cry; for in Lavengro is denounced the besetting folly +of the English people, a folly which those who call themselves guardians +of the public taste are far from being above. "We can't abide anything +that isn't true!" they exclaim. Can't they? Then why are they so +enraptured with any fiction that is adapted to purposes of humbug, which +tends to make them satisfied with their own proceedings, with their own +nonsense, which does not tell them to reform, to become more alive to +their own failings, and less sensitive about the tyrannical goings on of +the masters, and the degraded condition, the sufferings, and the trials +of the serfs in the star Jupiter? Had Lavengro, instead of being the +work of an independent mind, been written in order to further any of the +thousand and one cants, and species of nonsense prevalent in England, the +author would have heard much less about its not being true, both from +public detractors and private censurers. + +"But Lavengro pretends to be an autobiography," say the critics; and here +the writer begs leave to observe, that it would be well for people who +profess to have a regard for truth, not to exhibit in every assertion +which they make a most profligate disregard of it; this assertion of +theirs is a falsehood, and they know it to be a falsehood. In the +preface Lavengro is stated to be a dream; and the writer takes this +opportunity of stating that he never said it was an autobiography; never +authorized any person to say that it was one; and that he has in +innumerable instances declared in public and private, both before and +after the work was published, that it was not what is generally termed an +autobiography: but a set of people who pretend to write criticisms on +books, hating the author for various reasons,--amongst others, because, +having the proper pride of a gentleman and a scholar, he did not, in the +year '43, choose to permit himself to be exhibited and made a zany of in +London, and especially because he will neither associate with, nor curry +favour with, them who are neither gentlemen nor scholars,--attack his +book with abuse and calumny. He is, perhaps, condescending too much when +he takes any notice of such people; as, however, the English public is +wonderfully led by cries and shouts, and generally ready to take part +against any person who is either unwilling or unable to defend himself, +he deems it advisable not to be altogether quiet with those who assail +him. The best way to deal with vipers is to tear out their teeth; and +the best way to deal with pseudo-critics is to deprive them of their +poison-bag, which is easily done by exposing their ignorance. The writer +knew perfectly well the description of people with whom he would have to +do, he therefore very quietly prepared a stratagem, by means of which he +could at any time exhibit them, powerless and helpless, in his hand. +Critics, when they review books, ought to have a competent knowledge of +the subjects which those books discuss. + +Lavengro is a philological book, a poem if you choose to call it so. Now, +what a fine triumph it would have been for those who wished to vilify the +book and its author, provided they could have detected the latter +tripping in his philology--they might have instantly said that he was an +ignorant pretender to philology--they laughed at the idea of his taking +up a viper by its tail, a trick which hundreds of country urchins do +every September, but they were silent about the really wonderful part of +the book, the philological matter--they thought philology was his +stronghold, and that it would be useless to attack him there; they of +course would give him no credit as a philologist, for anything like fair +treatment towards him was not to be expected at their hands, but they +were afraid to attack his philology--yet that was the point, and the only +point in which they might have attacked him successfully; he was +vulnerable there. How was this? Why, in order to have an opportunity of +holding up pseudo-critics by the tails, he wilfully spelt various foreign +words wrong--Welsh words, and even Italian words--did they detect these +misspellings? not one of them, even as he knew they would not, and he now +taunts them with ignorance; and the power of taunting them with ignorance +is the punishment which he designed for them--a power which they might +but for their ignorance have used against him. The writer besides +knowing something of Italian and Welsh, knows a little of Armenian +language and literature; but who knowing anything of the Armenian +language, unless he had an end in view, would say, that the word sea in +Armenian is anything like the word tide in English? The word for sea in +Armenian is dzow, a word connected with the Tebetian word for water, and +the Chinese shuy, and the Turkish su, signifying the same thing; but +where is the resemblance between dzow and tide? Again, the word for +bread in ancient Armenian is hats; yet the Armenian on London Bridge is +made to say zhats, which is not the nominative of the Armenian noun for +bread, but the accusative: now, critics, ravening against a man because +he is a gentleman and a scholar, and has not only the power but also the +courage to write original works, why did you not discover that weak +point? Why, because you were ignorant, so here ye are held up! Moreover, +who with a name commencing with Z, ever wrote fables in Armenian? There +are two writers of fables in Armenian--Varthan and Koscht, and +illustrious writers they are, one in the simple, and the other in the +ornate style of Armenian composition, but neither of their names begins +with a Z. Oh, what a precious opportunity ye lost, ye ravening crew, of +convicting the poor, half-starved, friendless boy of the book, of +ignorance or misrepresentation, by asking who with a name beginning with +Z ever wrote fables in Armenian; but ye couldn't help yourselves, ye are +duncie. We duncie! Ay, duncie. So here ye are held up by the tails, +blood and foam streaming from your jaws. + +The writer wishes to ask here, what do you think of all this, Messieurs +les Critiques? Were ye ever served so before? But don't you richly +deserve it? Haven't you been for years past bullying and insulting +everybody whom you deemed weak, and currying favour with everybody whom +you thought strong? "We approve of this. We disapprove of that. Oh, +this will never do. These are fine lines!" The lines perhaps some +horrid sycophantic rubbish addressed to Wellington, or Lord So-and-so. To +have your ignorance thus exposed, to be shown up in this manner, and by +whom? A gypsy! Ay, a gypsy was the very right person to do it. But is +it not galling, after all? + +"Ah, but _we_ don't understand Armenian, it cannot be expected that _we_ +should understand Armenian, or Welsh, or--Hey, what's this? The mighty +_we_ not understand Armenian or Welsh, or--Then why does the mighty _we_ +pretend to review a book like Lavengro? From the arrogance with which it +continually delivers itself, one would think that the mighty _we_ is +omniscient; that it understands every language; is versed in every +literature; yet the mighty _we_ does not even know the word for bread in +Armenian. It knows bread well enough by name in England, and frequently +bread in England only by its name, but the truth is, that the mighty +_we_, with all its pretension, is in general a very sorry creature, who, +instead of saying nous disons, should rather say nous dis: Porny in his +"Guerre des Dieux," very profanely makes the three in one say, Je +faisons; now, Lavengro, who is anything but profane, would suggest that +critics, especially magazine and Sunday newspaper critics, should +commence with nous dis, as the first word would be significant of the +conceit and assumption of the critic, and the second of the extent of the +critic's information. The _we_ says its say, but when fawning sycophancy +or vulgar abuse are taken from that say, what remains? Why a blank, a +void like Ginnungagap. + +As the writer, of his own accord, has exposed some of the blemishes of +his book--a task, which a competent critic ought to have done--he will +now point out two or three of its merits, which any critic, not +altogether blinded with ignorance might have done, or not replete with +gall and envy would have been glad to do. The book has the merit of +communicating a fact connected with physiology, which in all the pages of +the multitude of books was never previously mentioned--the mysterious +practice of touching objects to baffle the evil chance. The miserable +detractor will, of course, instantly begin to rave about such a habit +being common: well and good; but was it ever before described in print, +or all connected with it dissected? He may then vociferate something +about Johnson having touched:--the writer cares not whether Johnson, who, +by the bye, during the last twenty or thirty years, owing to people +having become ultra Tory mad from reading Scott's novels and the +"Quarterly Review," has been a mighty favourite, especially with some who +were in the habit of calling him a half crazy old fool--touched, or +whether he did or not; but he asks where did Johnson ever describe the +feelings which induced him to perform the magic touch, even supposing +that he did perform it? Again, the history gives an account of a certain +book called the "Sleeping Bard," the most remarkable prose work of the +most difficult language but one, of modern Europe,--a book, for a notice +of which, he believes, one might turn over in vain the pages of any +review printed in England, or, indeed, elsewhere.--So here are two facts, +one literary and the other physiological, for which any candid critic was +bound to thank the author, even as in Romany Rye there is a fact +connected with Iro Norman Myth, for the disclosing of which, any person +who pretends to have a regard for literature is bound to thank him, +namely, that the mysterious Finn or Fingal of "Ossian's Poems" is one and +the same person as the Sigurd Fofnisbane of the Edda and the Wilkina, and +the Siegfried Horn of the Lay of the Niebelungs. + +The writer might here conclude, and, he believes, most triumphantly; as, +however, he is in the cue for writing, which he seldom is, he will for +his own gratification, and for the sake of others, dropping metaphors +about vipers and serpents, show up in particular two or three sets or +cliques of people, who, he is happy to say, have been particularly +virulent against him and his work, for nothing indeed could have given +him greater mortification than their praise. + +In the first place, he wishes to dispose of certain individuals who call +themselves men of wit and fashion--about town--who he is told have abused +his book "vaustly"--their own word. These people paint their cheeks, +wear white kid gloves, and dabble in literature, or what they conceive to +be literature. For abuse from such people, the writer was prepared. Does +any one imagine that the writer was not well aware, before he published +his book, that, whenever he gave it to the world, he should be attacked +by every literary coxcomb in England who had influence enough to procure +the insertion of a scurrilous article in a magazine or newspaper! He has +been in Spain, and has seen how invariably the mule attacks the horse; +now why does the mule attack the horse? Why, because the latter carries +about with him that which the envious hermaphrodite does not possess. + +They consider, forsooth, that his book is low--but he is not going to +waste words about them--one or two of whom, he is told, have written very +duncie books about Spain, and are highly enraged with him, because +certain books which he wrote about Spain were not considered duncie. No, +he is not going to waste words upon them, for verily he dislikes their +company, and so he'll pass them by, and proceed to others. + +The Scotch Charlie o'er the water people have been very loud in the abuse +of Lavengro--this again might be expected; the sarcasms of the Priest +about the Charlie o'er the water nonsense of course stung them. Oh! it +is one of the claims which Lavengro has to respect, that it is the first, +if not the only work, in which that nonsense is, to a certain extent, +exposed. Two or three of their remarks on passages of Lavengro, he will +reproduce and laugh at. Of course your Charlie o'er the water people are +genteel exceedingly, and cannot abide anything low. Gypsyism they think +is particularly low, and the use of gypsy words in literature beneath its +gentility; so they object to gypsy words being used in Lavengro where +gypsies are introduced speaking--"What is Romany forsooth?" say they. +Very good! And what is Scotch? has not the public been nauseated with +Scotch for the last thirty years? "Ay, but Scotch is not"--the writer +believes he knows much better than the Scotch what Scotch is and what it +is not; he has told them before what it is, a very sorry jargon. He will +now tell them what it is not--a sister or an immediate daughter of the +Sanscrit, which Romany is. "Ay, but the Scotch are"--foxes, foxes, +nothing else than foxes, even like the gypsies--the difference between +the gypsy and Scotch fox being that the first is wild, with a mighty +brush, the other a sneak with a gilt collar and without a tail. + +A Charlie o'er the water person attempts to be witty, because the writer +has said that perhaps a certain old Edinburgh High-School porter, of the +name of Boee, was perhaps of the same blood as a certain Bui, a Northern +Kemp who distinguished himself at the battle of Horinger Bay. A pretty +matter, forsooth, to excite the ridicule of a Scotchman! Why, is there a +beggar or trumpery fellow in Scotland, who does not pretend to be +somebody, or related to somebody? Is not every Scotchman descended from +some king, kemp, or cow-stealer of old, by his own account at least? Why, +the writer would even go so far as to bet a trifle that the poor +creature, who ridicules Boee's supposed ancestry, has one of his own, at +least as grand and as apocryphal as old Boee's of the High School. + +The same Charlie o'er the water person is mightily indignant that +Lavengro should have spoken disrespectfully of William Wallace; Lavengro, +when he speaks of that personage, being a child of about ten years old, +and repeating merely what he had heard. All the Scotch, by the bye, for +a great many years past, have been great admirers of William Wallace, +particularly the Charlie o'er the water people, who in their nonsense- +verses about Charlie generally contrive to bring in the name of William, +Willie, or Wullie Wallace. The writer begs leave to say that he by no +means wishes to bear hard against William Wallace, but he cannot help +asking why, if William, Willie, or Wullie Wallace was such a particularly +nice person, did his brother Scots betray him to a certain renowned +southern warrior, called Edward Longshanks, who caused him to be hanged +and cut into four in London, and his quarters to be placed over the gates +of certain towns? They got gold, it is true, and titles, very nice +things, no doubt; but, surely, the life of a patriot is better than all +the gold and titles in the world--at least Lavengro thinks so--but +Lavengro has lived more with gypsies than Scotchmen, and gypsies do not +betray their brothers. It would be some time before a gypsy would hand +over his brother to the harum-beck, even supposing you would not only +make him a king, but a justice of the peace, and not only give him the +world, but the best farm on the Holkham estate; but gypsies are wild +foxes, and there is certainly a wonderful difference between the way of +thinking of the wild fox who retains his brush, and that of the scurvy +kennel creature who has lost his tail. + +Ah! but thousands of Scotch, and particularly the Charlie o'er the water +people, will say, "We didn't sell Willie Wallace, it was our forbears who +sold Willie Wallace--If Edward Longshanks had asked us to sell Wullie +Wallace, we would soon have shown him that--" Lord better ye, ye poor +trumpery set of creatures, ye would not have acted a bit better than your +forefathers; remember how ye have ever treated the few amongst ye who, +though born in the kennel, have shown something of the spirit of the +wood. Many of ye are still alive who delivered over men, quite as honest +and patriotic as William Wallace, into the hands of an English minister, +to be chained and transported for merely venturing to speak and write in +the cause of humanity, at the time when Europe was beginning to fling off +the chains imposed by kings and priests. And it is not so very long +since Burns, to whom ye are now building up obelisks rather higher than +he deserves, was permitted by his countrymen to die in poverty and +misery, because he would not join with them in songs of adulation to +kings and the trumpery great. So say not that ye would have acted with +respect to William Wallace one whit better than your fathers--and you in +particular, ye children of Charlie, whom do ye write nonsense-verses +about? A family of dastard despots, who did their best, during a century +and more, to tread out the few sparks of independent feeling still +glowing in Scotland--but enough has been said about ye. + +Amongst those who have been prodigal in abuse and defamation of Lavengro, +have been your modern Radicals, and particularly a set of people who +filled the country with noise against the King and Queen, Wellington, and +the Tories, in '32. About these people the writer will presently have +occasion to say a good deal, and also of real Radicals. As, however, it +may be supposed that he is one of those who delight to play the sycophant +to kings and queens, to curry favour with Tories, and to bepraise +Wellington, he begs leave to state that such is not the case. + +About kings and queens he has nothing to say; about Tories, simply that +he believes them to be a bad set; about Wellington, however, it will be +necessary for him to say a good deal, of mixed import, as he will +subsequently frequently have occasion to mention him in connection with +what he has to say about pseudo-Radicals. + + + +CHAPTER X--Pseudo-Radicals. + + +About Wellington, then, he says, that he believes him at the present day +to be infinitely overrated. But there certainly was a time when he was +shamefully underrated. Now what time was that? Why the time of pseudo- +Radicalism, par excellence, from '20 to '32. Oh, the abuse that was +heaped on Wellington by those who traded in Radical cant--your newspaper +editors and review writers! and how he was sneered at then by your Whigs, +and how faintly supported he was by your Tories, who were half ashamed of +him; for your Tories, though capital fellows as followers, when you want +nobody to back you, are the faintest creatures in the world when you cry +in your agony, "Come and help me!" Oh, assuredly Wellington was +infamously used at that time, especially by your traders in Radicalism, +who howled at and hooted him; said he had every vice--was no general--was +beaten at Waterloo--was a poltroon--moreover a poor illiterate creature, +who could scarcely read or write; nay, a principal Radical paper said +boldly he could not read, and devised an ingenious plan for teaching +Wellington how to read. Now this was too bad; and the writer, being a +lover of justice, frequently spoke up for Wellington, saying, that as for +vice, he was not worse than his neighbours; that he was brave; that he +won the fight at Waterloo, from a half-dead man, it is true, but that he +did win it. Also, that he believed he had read "Rules for the Manual and +Platoon Exercises" to some purpose; moreover, that he was sure he could +write, for that he the writer had once written to Wellington, and had +received an answer from him; nay, the writer once went so far as to +strike a blow for Wellington; for the last time he used his fists was +upon a Radical sub-editor, who was mobbing Wellington in the street, from +behind a rank of grimy fellows; but though the writer spoke up for +Wellington to a certain extent, when he was shamefully underrated, and +once struck a blow for him when he was about being hustled, he is not +going to join in the loathsome sycophantic nonsense which it has been the +fashion to use with respect to Wellington these last twenty years. Now +what have those years been to England! Why the years of ultra-gentility, +everybody in England having gone gentility mad during the last twenty +years, and no people more so than your pseudo-Radicals. Wellington was +turned out, and your Whigs and Radicals got in, and then commenced the +period of ultra-gentility in England. The Whigs and Radicals only hated +Wellington as long as the patronage of the country was in his hands, none +of which they were tolerably sure he would bestow on them; but no sooner +did they get it into their own, than they forthwith became admirers of +Wellington. And why? Because he was a duke, petted at Windsor and by +foreign princes, and a very genteel personage. Formerly many of your +Whigs and Radicals had scarcely a decent coat on their backs; but now the +plunder of the country was at their disposal, and they had as good a +chance of being genteel as any people. So they were willing to worship +Wellington because he was very genteel, and could not keep the plunder of +the country out of their hands. And Wellington has been worshipped, and +prettily so, during the last fifteen or twenty years. He is now a noble +fine-hearted creature; the greatest general the world ever produced; the +bravest of men; and--and--mercy upon us! the greatest of military +writers! Now the present writer will not join in such sycophancy. As he +was not afraid to take the part of Wellington when he was scurvily used +by all parties, and when it was dangerous to take his part, so he is not +afraid to speak the naked truth about Wellington in these days, when it +is dangerous to say anything about him but what is sycophantically +laudatory. He said in '32, that as to vice, Wellington was not worse +than his neighbours; but he is not going to say, in '54, that Wellington +was a noble-hearted fellow; for he believes that a more cold-hearted +individual never existed. His conduct to Warner, the poor Vaudois, and +Marshal Ney, showed that. He said, in '32, that he was a good general +and a brave man; but he is not going, in '54, to say that he was the best +general, or the bravest man the world ever saw. England has produced a +better general--France two or three--both countries many braver men. The +son of the Norfolk clergyman was a brave man; Marshal Ney was a braver +man. Oh, that battle of Copenhagen! Oh, that covering the retreat of +the Grand Army! And though he said in '32 that he could write, he is not +going to say in '54 that he is the best of all military writers. On the +contrary, he does not hesitate to say that any Commentary of Julius +Caesar, or any chapter in Justinus, more especially the one about the +Parthians, is worth the ten volumes of Wellington's Despatches; though he +has no doubt that, by saying so, he shall especially rouse the +indignation of a certain newspaper, at present one of the most genteel +journals imaginable--with a slight tendency to Liberalism, it is true, +but perfectly genteel--which is nevertheless the very one which, in '32, +swore bodily that Wellington could neither read nor write, and devised an +ingenious plan for teaching him how to read. + +Now, after the above statement, no one will venture to say, if the writer +should be disposed to bear hard upon Radicals, that he would be +influenced by a desire to pay court to princes, or to curry favour with +Tories, or from being a blind admirer of the Duke of Wellington; but the +writer is not going to declaim against Radicals, that is, real +Republicans, or their principles; upon the whole, he is something of an +admirer of both. The writer has always had as much admiration for +everything that is real and honest as he has had contempt for the +opposite. Now real Republicanism is certainly a very fine thing, a much +finer thing than Toryism, a system of common robbery, which is +nevertheless far better than Whiggism {7}--a compound of petty larceny, +popular instruction, and receiving of stolen goods. Yes, real +Republicanism is certainly a very fine thing, and your real Radicals and +Republicans are certainly very fine fellows, or rather were fine fellows, +for the Lord only knows where to find them at the present day--the writer +does not. If he did, he would at any time go five miles to invite one of +them to dinner, even supposing that he had to go to a workhouse in order +to find the person he wished to invite. Amongst the real Radicals of +England, those who flourished from the year '16 to '20, there were +certainly extraordinary characters, men partially insane, perhaps, but +honest and brave--they did not make a market of the principles which they +professed, and never intended to do so; they believed in them, and were +willing to risk their lives in endeavouring to carry them out. The +writer wishes to speak in particular of two of these men, both of whom +perished on the scaffold--their names were Thistlewood and Ings. +Thistlewood, the best known of them, was a brave soldier, and had served +with distinction as an officer in the French service; he was one of the +excellent swordsmen of Europe; had fought several duels in France, where +it is no child's play to fight a duel; but had never unsheathed his sword +for single combat, but in defence of the feeble and insulted--he was kind +and open-hearted, but of too great simplicity; he had once ten thousand +pounds left him, all of which he lent to a friend, who disappeared and +never returned a penny. Ings was an uneducated man, of very low stature, +but amazing strength and resolution; he was a kind husband and father, +and though a humble butcher, the name he bore was one of the royal names +of the heathen Anglo-Saxons. These two men, along with five others, were +executed, and their heads hacked off, for levying war against George the +Fourth; the whole seven dying in a manner which extorted cheers from the +populace; the most of then uttering philosophical or patriotic sayings. +Thistlewood, who was, perhaps, the most calm and collected of all, just +before he was turned off, said, "We are now going to discover the great +secret." Ings, the moment before he was choked, was singing "Scots wha +ha' wi' Wallace bled." Now there was no humbug about those men, nor +about many more of the same time and of the same principles. They might +be deluded about Republicanism, as Algernon Sidney was, and as Brutus +was, but they were as honest and brave as either Brutus or Sidney; and as +willing to die for their principles. But the Radicals who succeeded them +were beings of a very different description; they jobbed and traded in +Republicanism, and either parted with it, or at the present day are eager +to part with it for a consideration. In order to get the Whigs into +power, and themselves places, they brought the country by their +inflammatory language to the verge of a revolution, and were the cause +that many perished on the scaffold; by their incendiary harangues and +newspaper articles they caused the Bristol conflagration, for which six +poor creatures were executed; they encouraged the mob to pillage, pull +down and burn, and then rushing into garrets looked on. Thistlewood +tells the mob the Tower is a second Bastile; let it be pulled down. A +mob tries to pull down the Tower; but Thistlewood is at the head of that +mob; he is not peeping from a garret on Tower Hill like Gulliver at +Lisbon. Thistlewood and Ings say to twenty ragged individuals, Liverpool +and Castlereagh are two satellites of despotism; it would be highly +desirable to put them out of the way. And a certain number of ragged +individuals are surprised in a stable in Cato Street, making preparations +to put Castlereagh and Liverpool out of the way, and are fired upon with +muskets by Grenadiers, and are hacked at with cutlasses by Bow Street +runners; but the twain who encouraged those ragged individuals to meet in +Cato Street are not far off, they are not on the other side of the river, +in the Borough, for example, in some garret or obscure cellar. The very +first to confront the Guards and runners are Thistlewood and Ings; +Thistlewood whips his long thin rapier through Smithers' lungs, and Ings +makes a dash at Fitzclarence with his butcher's knife. Oh, there was +something in those fellows! honesty and courage--but can as much be said +for the inciters of the troubles of '32? No; they egged on poor ignorant +mechanics and rustics, and got them hanged for pulling down and burning, +whilst the highest pitch to which their own daring ever mounted was to +mob Wellington as he passed in the streets. + +Now, these people were humbugs, which Thistlewood and Ings were not. They +raved and foamed against kings, queens, Wellington, the aristocracy, and +what not, till they had got the Whigs into power, with whom they were in +secret alliance, and with whom they afterwards openly joined in a system +of robbery and corruption, more flagitious than the old Tory one, because +there was more cant about it; for themselves they got consulships, +commissionerships, and in some instances governments; for their sons +clerkships in public offices; and there you may see those sons with the +never-failing badge of the low scoundrel-puppy, the gilt chain at the +waistcoat pocket; and there you may hear and see them using the +languishing tones, and employing the airs and graces which wenches use +and employ, who, without being in the family way, wish to make their +keepers believe that they are in the family way. Assuredly great is the +cleverness of your Radicals of '32, in providing for themselves and their +families. Yet, clever as they are, there is one thing they cannot +do--they get governments for themselves, commissionerships for their +brothers, clerkships for their sons, but there is one thing beyond their +craft--they cannot get husbands for their daughters, who, too ugly for +marriage, and with their heads filled with the nonsense they have imbibed +from gentility-novels, go over from Socinus to the Pope, becoming sisters +in fusty convents, or having heard a few sermons in Mr. Platitude's +"chapelle," seek for admission at the establishment of mother S---, who, +after employing them for a time in various menial offices, and making +them pluck off their eyebrows hair by hair, generally dismisses them on +the plea of sluttishness; whereupon they return to their papas to eat the +bread of the country, with the comfortable prospect of eating it still in +the shape of a pension after their sires are dead. Papa (ex uno disce +omnes) living as quietly as he can; not exactly enviably, it is true, +being now and then seen to cast an uneasy and furtive glance behind, even +as an animal is wont, who has lost by some mischance a very slight +appendage; as quietly however as he can, and as dignifiedly, a great +admirer of every genteel thing and genteel personage, the Duke in +particular, whose "Despatches," bound in red morocco, you will find on +his table. A disliker of coarse expressions, and extremes of every kind, +with a perfect horror for revolutions and attempts to revolutionize, +exclaiming now and then, as a shriek escapes from whipped and bleeding +Hungary, a groan from gasping Poland, and a half-stifled curse from down- +trodden but scowling Italy, "Confound the revolutionary canaille, why +can't it be quiet!" in a word, putting one in mind of the parvenu in the +"Walpurgis Nacht." The writer is no admirer of Gothe, but the idea of +that parvenu was certainly a good one. Yes, putting one in mind of the +individual who says-- + + "Wir waren wahrlich auch nicht dumm, + Und thaten oft was wir nicht sollten; + Doch jetzo kehrt sich alles um und um, + Und eben da wir's fest erhalten wollten." + + We were no fools, as every one discern'd, + And stopp'd at nought our projects in fulfilling; + But now the world seems topsy-turvy turn'd, + To keep it quiet just when we were willing. + +Now, this class of individuals entertain a mortal hatred for Lavengro and +its writer, and never lose an opportunity of vituperating both. It is +true that such hatred is by no means surprising. There is certainly a +great deal of difference between Lavengro and their own sons; the one +thinking of independence and philology, whilst he is clinking away at +kettles, and hammering horse-shoes in dingles; the others stuck up at +public offices with gilt chains at their waistcoat-pockets, and giving +themselves the airs and graces of females of a certain description. And +there certainly is a great deal of difference between the author of +Lavengro and themselves--he retaining his principles and his brush; they +with scarlet breeches on, it is true, but without their Republicanism, +and their tails. Oh, the writer can well afford to be vituperated by +your pseudo-Radicals of '32! + +Some time ago the writer was set upon by an old Radical and his wife; but +the matter is too rich not to require a chapter to itself. + + + +CHAPTER XI--The Old Radical. + + + "This very dirty man, with his very dirty face, + Would do any dirty act, which would get him a place." + +Some time ago the writer was set upon by an old Radical and his wife; but +before he relates the manner in which they set upon him, it will be as +well to enter upon a few particulars tending to elucidate their reasons +for so doing. + +The writer had just entered into his eighteenth year, when he met at the +table of a certain Anglo-Germanist an individual, apparently somewhat +under thirty, of middle stature, a thin and weaselly figure, a sallow +complexion, a certain obliquity of vision, and a large pair of +spectacles. This person, who had lately come from abroad, and had +published a volume of translations, had attracted some slight notice in +the literary world, and was looked upon as a kind of lion in a small +provincial capital. After dinner he argued a great deal, spoke +vehemently against the church, and uttered the most desperate Radicalism +that was perhaps ever heard, saying, he hoped that in a short time there +would not be a king or queen in Europe, and inveighing bitterly against +the English aristocracy, and against the Duke of Wellington in +particular, whom he said, if he himself was ever president of an English +republic--an event which he seemed to think by no means improbable--he +would hang for certain infamous acts of profligacy and bloodshed which he +had perpetrated in Spain. Being informed that the writer was something +of a philologist, to which character the individual in question laid +great pretensions, he came and sat down by him, and talked about +languages and literature. The writer, who was only a boy, was a little +frightened at first, but, not wishing to appear a child of absolute +ignorance, he summoned what little learning he had, and began to blunder +out something about the Celtic languages and literature, and asked the +Lion who he conceived Finn-Ma-Coul to be? and whether he did not consider +the "Ode to the Fox," by Red Rhys of Eryry, to be a masterpiece of +pleasantry? Receiving no answer to these questions from the Lion, who, +singular enough, would frequently, when the writer put a question to him, +look across the table, and flatly contradict some one who was talking to +some other person, the writer dropped the Celtic languages and +literature, and asked him whether he did not think it a funny thing that +Temugin, generally called Genghis Khan, should have married the daughter +of Prester John? {8} The Lion, after giving a side-glance at the writer +through his left spectacle glass, seemed about to reply, but was +unfortunately prevented, being seized with an irresistible impulse to +contradict a respectable doctor of medicine, who was engaged in +conversation with the master of the house at the upper and farther end of +the table, the writer being a poor ignorant lad, sitting of course at the +bottom. The doctor, who had served in the Peninsula, having observed +that Ferdinand the Seventh was not quite so bad as had been represented, +the Lion vociferated that he was ten times worse, and that he hoped to +see him and the Duke of Wellington hanged together. The doctor, who, +being a Welshman, was somewhat of a warm temper, growing rather red, said +that at any rate he had been informed that Ferdinand the Seventh knew +sometimes how to behave himself like a gentleman--this brought on a long +dispute, which terminated rather abruptly. The Lion having observed that +the doctor must not talk about Spanish matters with one who had visited +every part of Spain, the doctor bowed, and said he was right, for that he +believed no people in general possessed such accurate information about +countries as those who had travelled them as bagmen. On the Lion asking +the doctor what he meant, the Welshman, whose under jaw began to move +violently, replied, that he meant what he said. Here the matter ended, +for the Lion, turning from him, looked at the writer. The writer, +imagining that his own conversation hitherto had been too trivial and +common-place for the Lion to consider worth his while to take much notice +of it, determined to assume a little higher ground, and after repeating a +few verses of the Koran, and gabbling a little Arabic, asked the Lion +what he considered to be the difference between the Hegira and the +Christian era, adding, that he thought the general computation was in +error by about one year; and being a particularly modest person, chiefly, +he believes, owing to his having been at school in Ireland, absolutely +blushed at finding that the Lion returned not a word in answer. "What a +wonderful individual I am seated by," thought he, "to whom Arabic seems a +vulgar speech, and a question about the Hegira not worthy of an answer!" +not reflecting that as lions come from the Sahara, they have quite enough +of Arabic at home, and that the question about the Hegira was rather mal +a propos to one used to prey on the flesh of hadjis. "Now I only wish he +would vouchsafe me a little of his learning," thought the boy to himself, +and in this wish he was at last gratified; for the Lion, after asking him +whether he was acquainted at all with the Sclavonian languages, and being +informed that he was not, absolutely dumb-foundered him by a display of +Sclavonian erudition. + +Years rolled by--the writer was a good deal about, sometimes in London, +sometimes in the country, sometimes abroad; in London he occasionally met +the man of the spectacles, who was always very civil to him, and, indeed, +cultivated his acquaintance. The writer thought it rather odd that, +after he himself had become acquainted with the Sclavonian languages and +literature, the man of the spectacles talked little or nothing about +them. In a little time, however, the matter ceased to cause him the +slightest surprise, for he had discovered a key to the mystery. In the +mean time the man of spectacles was busy enough; he speculated in +commerce, failed, and paid his creditors twenty pennies in the pound; +published translations, of which the public at length became heartily +tired; having, indeed, got an inkling of the manner in which those +translations were got up. He managed, however, to ride out many a storm, +having one trusty sheet-anchor--Radicalism. This he turned to the best +advantage--writing pamphlets and articles in reviews, all in the Radical +interest, and for which he was paid out of the Radical fund; which +articles and pamphlets, when Toryism seemed to reel on its last legs, +exhibited a slight tendency to Whiggism. Nevertheless, his abhorrence of +desertion of principle was so great in the time of the Duke of +Wellington's administration, that when S--- left the Whigs and went over, +he told the writer, who was about that time engaged with him in a +literary undertaking, that the said S--- was a fellow with a character so +infamous, that any honest man would rather that you spit in his face than +insult his ears with the mention of the name of S---. + +The literary project having come to nothing,--in which, by the bye, the +writer was to have all the labour, and his friend all the credit, +provided any credit should accrue from it,--the writer did not see the +latter for some years, during which time considerable political changes +took place; the Tories were driven from, and the Whigs placed in, office, +both events being brought about by the Radicals coalescing with the +Whigs, over whom they possessed great influence for the services which +they had rendered. When the writer next visited his friend, he found him +very much altered; his opinions were by no means so exalted as they had +been--he was not disposed even to be rancorous against the Duke of +Wellington, saying that there were worse men than he, and giving him some +credit as a general; a hankering after gentility seeming to pervade the +whole family, father and sons, wife and daughters, all of whom talked +about genteel diversions--gentility novels, and even seemed to look with +favour on High Churchism, having in former years, to all appearance, been +bigoted Dissenters. In a little time the writer went abroad; as, indeed, +did his friend; not, however, like the writer, at his own expense, but at +that of the country--the Whigs having given him a travelling appointment, +which he held for some years, during which he received upwards of twelve +thousand pounds of the money of the country, for services which will, +perhaps, be found inscribed on certain tablets, when another Astolfo +shall visit the moon. This appointment, however, he lost on the Tories +resuming power--when the writer found him almost as Radical and patriotic +as ever, just engaged in trying to get into Parliament, into which he got +by the assistance of his Radical friends, who, in conjunction with the +Whigs, were just getting up a crusade against the Tories, which they +intended should be a conclusive one. + +A little time after the publication of "The Bible in Spain," the Tories +being still in power, this individual, full of the most disinterested +friendship for the author, was particularly anxious that he should be +presented with an official situation, in a certain region a great many +miles off. "You are the only person for that appointment," said he; "you +understand a great deal about the country, and are better acquainted with +the two languages spoken there than any one in England. Now I love my +country, and have, moreover, a great regard for you, and as I am in +Parliament, and have frequent opportunities of speaking to the Ministry, +I shall take care to tell them how desirable it would be to secure your +services. It is true they are Tories, but I think that even Tories would +give up their habitual love of jobbery in a case like yours, and for once +show themselves disposed to be honest men and gentlemen; indeed, I have +no doubt they will, for having so deservedly an infamous character, they +would be glad to get themselves a little credit, by a presentation which +could not possibly be traced to jobbery or favouritism." + +The writer begged his friend to give himself no trouble about the matter, +as he was not desirous of the appointment, being in tolerably easy +circumstances, and willing to take some rest after a life of labour. All, +however, that he could say was of no use, his friend indignantly +observing, that the matter ought to be taken entirely out of his hands, +and the appointment thrust upon him for the credit of the country. "But +may not many people be far more worthy of the appointment than myself?" +said the writer. "Where?" said the friendly Radical. "If you don't get +it, it will be made a job of, given to the son of some steward, or, +perhaps, to some quack who has done dirty work; I tell you what, I shall +ask it for you, in spite of you; I shall, indeed!" and his eyes flashed +with friendly and patriotic fervour through the large pair of spectacles +which he wore. + +And, in fact, it would appear that the honest and friendly patriot put +his threat into execution. "I have spoken," said he, "more than once to +this and that individual in Parliament, and everybody seems to think that +the appointment should be given to you. Nay, that you should be forced +to accept it. I intend next to speak to Lord A---" And so he did, at +least it would appear so. On the writer calling upon him one evening, +about a week afterwards, in order to take leave of him, as the writer was +about to take a long journey for the sake of his health, his friend no +sooner saw him than he started up in a violent fit of agitation, and +glancing about the room, in which there were several people, amongst +others two Whig members of Parliament, said, "I am glad you are come, I +was just speaking about you. This," said he, addressing the two members, +"is so and so, the author of so and so, the well-known philologist; as I +was telling you, I spoke to Lord A--- this day about him, and said that +he ought forthwith to have the head appointment in--and what did the +fellow say? Why, that there was no necessity for such an appointment at +all, and if there were, why--and then he hummed and ha'd. Yes," said he, +looking at the writer, "he did indeed. What a scandal! what an infamy! +But I see how it will be, it will be a job. The place will be given to +some son of a steward or to some quack, as I said before. Oh, these +Tories! Well, if this does not make one--" Here he stopped short, +crunched his teeth, and looked the image of desperation. + +Seeing the poor man in this distressed condition, the writer begged him +to be comforted, and not to take the matter so much to heart; but the +indignant Radical took the matter very much to heart, and refused all +comfort whatever, bouncing about the room, and, whilst his spectacles +flashed in the light of four spermaceti candles, exclaiming, "It will be +a job--a Tory job! I see it all, I see it all, I see it all!" + +And a job it proved, and a very pretty job, but no Tory job. Shortly +afterwards the Tories were out, and the Whigs were in. From that time +the writer heard not a word about the injustice done to the country in +not presenting him with the appointment to ---; the Radical, however, was +busy enough to obtain the appointment, not for the writer, but for +himself, and eventually succeeded, partly through Radical influence, and +partly through that of a certain Whig lord, for whom the Radical had +done, on a particular occasion, work of a particular kind. So, though +the place was given to a quack, and the whole affair a very pretty job, +it was one in which the Tories had certainly no hand. + +In the meanwhile, however, the friendly Radical did not drop the writer. +Oh, no! On various occasions he obtained from the writer all the +information about the country in question, and was particularly anxious +to obtain from the writer, and eventually did obtain, a copy of a work +written in the court language of that country, edited by the writer, a +language exceedingly difficult, which the writer, at the expense of a +considerable portion of his eyesight, had acquired, at least as far as by +the eyesight it could be acquired. What use the writer's friend made of +the knowledge he had gained from him, and what use he made of the book, +the writer can only guess; but he has little doubt that when the question +of sending a person to --- was mooted in a Parliamentary Committee--which +it was at the instigation of the writer's friend--the Radical on being +examined about the country, gave the information which he had obtained +from the writer as his own, and flashed the book and its singular +characters in the eyes of the Committee; and then of course his Radical +friends would instantly say, "This is the man! there is no one like him. +See what information he possesses; and see that book written by himself +in the court language of Serendib. This is the only man to send there. +What a glory, what a triumph it would be to Britain, to send out a man so +deeply versed in the mysterious lore of--as our illustrious countryman; a +person who with his knowledge could beat with their own weapons the wise +men of-- Is such an opportunity to be lost? Oh, no! surely not; if it +is, it will be an eternal disgrace to England, and the world will see +that Whigs are no better than Tories." + +Let no one think the writer uncharitable in these suppositions. The +writer is only too well acquainted with the antecedents of the +individual, to entertain much doubt that he would shrink from any such +conduct, provided he thought that his temporal interest would be +forwarded by it. The writer is aware of more than one instance in which +he has passed off the literature of friendless young men for his own, +after making them a slight pecuniary compensation and deforming what was +originally excellent by interpolations of his own. This was his especial +practice with regard to translation, of which he would fain be esteemed +the king. This Radical literato is slightly acquainted with four or five +of the easier dialects of Europe, on the strength of which knowledge he +would fain pass for a universal linguist, publishing translations of +pieces originally written in various difficult languages; which +translations, however, were either made by himself from literal +renderings done for him into French or German, or had been made from the +originals into English, by friendless young men, and then deformed by his +alterations. + +Well, the Radical got the appointment, and the writer certainly did not +grudge it him. He, of course, was aware that his friend had behaved in a +very base manner towards him, but he bore him no ill-will, and invariably +when he heard him spoken against, which was frequently the case, took his +part when no other person would; indeed, he could well afford to bear him +no ill-will. He had never sought for the appointment, nor wished for it, +nor, indeed, ever believed himself to be qualified for it. He was +conscious, it is true, that he was not altogether unacquainted with the +language and literature of the country with which the appointment was +connected. He was likewise aware that he was not altogether deficient in +courage and in propriety of behaviour. He knew that his appearance was +not particularly against him; his face not being like that of a convicted +pickpocket, nor his gait resembling that of a fox who has lost his tail; +yet he never believed himself adapted for the appointment, being aware +that he had no aptitude for the doing of dirty work, if called to do it, +nor pliancy which would enable him to submit to scurvy treatment, whether +he did dirty work or not--requisites, at the time of which he is +speaking, indispensable in every British official; requisites, by the +bye, which his friend the Radical possessed in a high degree; but though +he bore no ill-will towards his friend, his friend bore anything but good- +will towards him; for from the moment that he had obtained the +appointment for himself, his mind was filled with the most bitter +malignity against the writer, and naturally enough; for no one ever yet +behaved in a base manner towards another, without forthwith conceiving a +mortal hatred against him. You wrong another, know yourself to have +acted basely, and are enraged, not against yourself--for no one hates +himself--but against the innocent cause of your baseness; reasoning very +plausibly, "But for that fellow, I should never have been base; for had +he not existed I could not have been so, at any rate against him;" and +this hatred is all the more bitter, when you reflect that you have been +needlessly base. + +Whilst the Tories are in power the writer's friend, of his own accord, +raves against the Tories because they do not give the writer a certain +appointment, and makes, or says he makes, desperate exertions to make +them do so; but no sooner are the Tories out, with whom he has no +influence, and the Whigs in, with whom he, or rather his party, has +influence, than he gets the place for himself, though, according to his +own expressed opinion--an opinion with which the writer does not, and +never did, concur--the writer was the only person competent to hold it. +Now had he, without saying a word to the writer, or about the writer with +respect to the employment, got the place for himself when he had an +opportunity, knowing, as he very well knew, himself to be utterly +unqualified for it, the transaction, though a piece of jobbery, would not +have merited the title of a base transaction; as the matter stands, +however, who can avoid calling the whole affair not only a piece of--come, +come, out with the word--scoundrelism on the part of the writer's friend, +but a most curious piece of uncalled-for scoundrelism? and who, with any +knowledge of fallen human nature, can wonder at the writer's friend +entertaining towards him a considerable portion of gall and malignity? + +This feeling on the part of the writer's friend was wonderfully increased +by the appearance of Lavengro, many passages of which the Radical in his +foreign appointment applied to himself and family--one or two of his +children having gone over to Popery, the rest become members of Mr. +Platitude's chapel, and the minds of all being filled with ultra notions +of gentility. + +The writer, hearing that his old friend had returned to England, to +apply, he believes, for an increase of salary, and for a title, called +upon him, unwillingly, it is true, for he had no wish to see a person for +whom, though he bore him no ill-will, he could not avoid feeling a +considerable portion of contempt; the truth is, that his sole object in +calling was to endeavour to get back a piece of literary property which +his friend had obtained from him many years previously, and which, though +he had frequently applied for it, he never could get back. Well, the +writer called; he did not get his property, which, indeed, he had +scarcely time to press for, being almost instantly attacked by his good +friend and his wife--yes, it was then that the author was set upon by an +old Radical and his wife--the wife, who looked the very image of shame +and malignity, did not say much, it is true, but encouraged her husband +in all he said. Both of their own accord introduced the subject of +Lavengro. The Radical called the writer a grumbler, just as if there had +ever been a greater grumbler than himself until, by the means above +described, he had obtained a place: he said that the book contained a +melancholy view of human nature--just as if anybody could look in his +face without having a melancholy view of human nature. On the writer +quietly observing that the book contained an exposition of his +principles, the pseudo-Radical replied, that he cared nothing for his +principles--which was probably true, it not being likely that he would +care for another person's principles after having shown so thorough a +disregard for his own. The writer said that the book, of course, would +give offence to humbugs; the Radical then demanded whether he thought him +a humbug?--the wretched wife was the Radical's protection, even as he +knew she would be; it was on her account that the writer did not kick his +good friend; as it was, he looked at him in the face and thought to +himself, "How is it possible I should think you a humbug, when only last +night I was taking your part in a company in which everybody called you a +humbug?" + +The Radical, probably observing something in the writer's eye which he +did not like, became all on a sudden abjectly submissive, and, professing +the highest admiration for the writer, begged him to visit him in his +government; this the writer promised faithfully to do, and he takes the +present opportunity of performing his promise. + +This is one of the pseudo-Radical calumniators of Lavengro and its +author; were the writer on his deathbed he would lay his hand on his +heart and say, that he does not believe that there is one trait of +exaggeration in the portrait which he has drawn. This is one of the +pseudo-Radical calumniators of Lavengro and its author; and this is one +of the genus, who, after having railed against jobbery for perhaps a +quarter of a century, at present batten on large official salaries which +they do not earn. England is a great country, and her interests require +that she should have many a well-paid official both at home and abroad; +but will England long continue a great country if the care of her +interests, both at home and abroad, is in many instances intrusted to +beings like him described above, whose only recommendation for an +official appointment was that he was deeply versed in the secrets of his +party and of the Whigs? + +Before he concludes, the writer will take the liberty of saying of +Lavengro that it is a book written for the express purpose of inculcating +virtue, love of country, learning, manly pursuits, and genuine religion, +for example, that of the Church of England, and for awakening a contempt +for nonsense of every kind, and a hatred for priestcraft, more especially +that of Rome. + +And in conclusion, with respect to many passages of his book in which he +has expressed himself in terms neither measured nor mealy, he will beg +leave to observe, in the words of a great poet, who lived a profligate +life, it is true, but who died a sincere penitent--thanks, after God, to +good Bishop Burnet-- + + "All this with indignation I have hurl'd + At the pretending part of this proud world, + Who, swollen with selfish vanity, devise + False freedoms, formal cheats, and holy lies, + Over their fellow fools to tyrannize." + + ROCHESTER. + + + + +Footnotes + + +{1} Tipperary. + +{2} An obscene oath. + +{3} See "Muses' Library," pp. 86, 87. London, 1738. + +{4} Genteel with them seems to be synonymous with Gentile and Gentoo; if +so, the manner in which it has been applied for ages ceases to surprise, +for genteel is heathenish. Ideas of barbaric pearl and gold, glittering +armour, plumes, tortures, blood-shedding, and lust, should always be +connected with it. Wace, in his grand Norman poem, calls the Baron +genteel:-- + + "La furent li gentil Baron," etc. + +And he certainly could not have applied the word better than to the +strong Norman thief, armed cap-a-pie, without one particle of truth or +generosity; for a person to be a pink of gentility, that is heathenism, +should have no such feelings; and, indeed, the admirers of gentility +seldom or never associate any such feelings with it. It was from the +Norman, the worst of all robbers and miscreants, who built strong +castles, garrisoned them with devils, and tore out poor wretches' eyes, +as the Saxon Chronicle says, that the English got their detestable word +genteel. What could ever have made the English such admirers of +gentility, it would be difficult to say; for, during three hundred years, +they suffered enough by it. Their genteel Norman landlords were their +scourgers, their torturers, the plunderers of their homes, the +dishonourers of their wives, and the deflourers of their daughters. +Perhaps, after all, fear is at the root of the English veneration for +gentility. + +{5} Gentle and gentlemanly may be derived from the same root as genteel; +but nothing can be more distinct from the mere genteel, than the ideas +which enlightened minds associate with these words. Gentle and +gentlemanly mean something kind and genial; genteel, that which is +glittering or gaudy. A person can be a gentleman in rags, but nobody can +be genteel. + +{6} The writer has been checked in print by the Scotch with being a +Norfolk man. Surely, surely, these latter times have not been exactly +the ones in which it was expedient for Scotchmen to check the children of +any county in England with the place of their birth, more especially +those who have had the honour of being born in Norfolk--times in which +British fleets, commanded by Scotchmen, have returned laden with anything +but laurels from foreign shores. It would have been well for Britain had +she had the old Norfolk man to dispatch to the Baltic or the Black sea, +lately, instead of Scotch admirals. + +{7} As the present work will come out in the midst of a vehement +political contest, people may be led to suppose that the above was +written expressly for the time. The writer therefore begs to state that +it was written in the year 1854. He cannot help adding that he is +neither Whig, Tory, nor Radical, and cares not a straw what party governs +England, provided it is governed well. But he has no hopes of good +government from the Whigs. It is true that amongst them there is one +very great man, Lord Palmerston, who is indeed the sword and buckler, the +chariots and the horses of the party; but it is impossible for his +lordship to govern well with such colleagues as he has--colleagues which +have been forced upon him by family influence, and who are continually +pestering him into measures anything but conducive to the country's +honour and interest. If Palmerston would govern well, he must get rid of +them; but from that step, with all his courage and all his greatness, he +will shrink. Yet how proper and easy a step it would be! He could +easily get better, but scarcely worse, associates. They appear to have +one object in view, and only one--jobbery. It was chiefly owing to a +most flagitious piece of jobbery, which one of his lordship's principal +colleagues sanctioned and promoted, that his lordship experienced his +late parliamentary disasters. + +{8} A fact. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ROMANY RYE*** + + +******* This file should be named 422.txt or 422.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/4/2/422 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Romany Rye + +Author: George Borrow + +Release Date: February, 1996 [EBook #422] +[This file was first posted on December 20, 1995] +[Most recently updated: August 18, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE ROMANY RYE *** + + + + +Transcribed from the 1907 J. M. Dent Edition by David Price, email +ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + + + +THE ROMANY RYE + + + + +CHAPTER I + + + +The Making of the Linch-pin--The Sound Sleeper--Breakfast--The +Postillion's Departure. + + +I awoke at the first break of day, and, leaving the postillion fast +asleep, stepped out of the tent. The dingle was dank and dripping. +I lighted a fire of coals, and got my forge in readiness. I then +ascended to the field, where the chaise was standing as we had left +it on the previous evening. After looking at the cloud-stone near +it, now cold, and split into three pieces, I set about prying +narrowly into the condition of the wheel and axletree--the latter +had sustained no damage of any consequence, and the wheel, as far +as I was able to judge, was sound, being only slightly injured in +the box. The only thing requisite to set the chaise in a +travelling condition appeared to be a linch-pin, which I determined +to make. Going to the companion wheel, I took out the linch-pin, +which I carried down with me to the dingle, to serve as a model. + +I found Belle by this time dressed, and seated near the forge: +with a slight nod to her like that which a person gives who happens +to see an acquaintance when his mind is occupied with important +business, I forthwith set about my work. Selecting a piece of iron +which I thought would serve my purpose, I placed it in the fire, +and plying the bellows in a furious manner, soon made it hot; then +seizing it with the tongs, I laid it on my anvil, and began to beat +it with my hammer, according to the rules of my art. The dingle +resounded with my strokes. Belle sat still, and occasionally +smiled, but suddenly started up, and retreated towards her +encampment, on a spark which I purposely sent in her direction +alighting on her knee. I found the making of a linch-pin no easy +matter; it was, however, less difficult than the fabrication of a +pony-shoe; my work, indeed, was much facilitated by my having +another pin to look at. In about three-quarters of an hour I had +succeeded tolerably well, and had produced a linch-pin which I +thought would serve. During all this time, notwithstanding the +noise which I was making, the postillion never showed his face. +His non-appearance at first alarmed me: I was afraid he might be +dead, but, on looking into the tent, I found him still buried in +the soundest sleep. "He must surely be descended from one of the +seven sleepers," said I, as I turned away, and resumed my work. My +work finished, I took a little oil, leather, and sand, and polished +the pin as well as I could; then, summoning Belle, we both went to +the chaise, where, with her assistance, I put on the wheel. The +linch-pin which I had made fitted its place very well, and having +replaced the other, I gazed at the chaise for some time with my +heart full of that satisfaction which results from the +consciousness of having achieved a great action; then, after +looking at Belle in the hope of obtaining a compliment from her +lips, which did not come, I returned to the dingle, without saying +a word, followed by her. Belle set about making preparations for +breakfast; and I taking the kettle, went and filled it at the +spring. Having hung it over the fire, I went to the tent in which +the postillion was still sleeping, and called upon him to arise. +He awoke with a start, and stared around him at first with the +utmost surprise, not unmixed, I could observe, with a certain +degree of fear. At last, looking in my face, he appeared to +recollect himself. "I had quite forgot," said he, as he got up, +"where I was, and all that happened yesterday. However, I remember +now the whole affair, thunder-storm, thunder-bolt, frightened +horses, and all your kindness. Come, I must see after my coach and +horses; I hope we shall be able to repair the damage." "The damage +is already quite repaired," said I, "as you will see, if you come +to the field above." "You don't say so," said the postillion, +coming out of the tent; "well, I am mightily beholden to you. Good +morning, young gentle-woman," said he, addressing Belle, who, +having finished her preparations, was seated near the fire. "Good +morning, young man," said Belle, "I suppose you would be glad of +some breakfast; however, you must wait a little, the kettle does +not boil." "Come and look at your chaise," said I; "but tell me +how it happened that the noise which I have been making did not +awake you; for three-quarters of an hour at least I was hammering +close at your ear." "I heard you all the time," said the +postillion, "but your hammering made me sleep all the sounder; I am +used to hear hammering in my morning sleep. There's a forge close +by the room where I sleep when I'm at home, at my inn; for we have +all kinds of conveniences at my inn--forge, carpenter's shop, and +wheel-wright's,--so that when I heard you hammering I thought, no +doubt, that it was the old noise, and that I was comfortable in my +bed at my own inn." We now ascended to the field, where I showed +the postillion his chaise. He looked at the pin attentively, +rubbed his hands, and gave a loud laugh. "Is it not well done?" +said I. "It will do till I get home," he replied. "And that is +all you have to say?" I demanded. "And that's a good deal," said +he, "considering who made it. But don't be offended," he added, "I +shall prize it all the more for its being made by a gentleman, and +no blacksmith; and so will my governor, when I show it to him. I +shan't let it remain where it is, but will keep it, as a +remembrance of you, as long as I live." He then again rubbed his +hands with great glee, and said, "I will now go and see after my +horses, and then to breakfast, partner, if you please." Suddenly, +however, looking at his hands, he said, "Before sitting down to +breakfast I am in the habit of washing my hands and face: I +suppose you could not furnish me with a little soap and water." +"As much water as you please," said I, "but if you want soap, I +must go and trouble the young gentle-woman for some." "By no +means," said the postillion, "water will do at a pinch." "Follow +me," said I, and leading him to the pond of the frogs and newts, I +said, "this is my ewer; you are welcome to part of it--the water is +so soft that it is scarcely necessary to add soap to it;" then +lying down on the bank, I plunged my head into the water, then +scrubbed my hands and face, and afterwards wiped them with some +long grass which grew on the margin of the pond. "Bravo," said the +postillion, "I see you know how to make a shift:" he then followed +my example, declared he never felt more refreshed in his life, and, +giving a bound, said, "he would go and look after his horses." + +We then went to look after the horses, which we found not much the +worse for having spent the night in the open air. My companion +again inserted their heads in the corn-bags, and, leaving the +animals to discuss their corn, returned with me to the dingle, +where we found the kettle boiling. We sat down, and Belle made tea +and did the honours of the meal. The postillion was in high +spirits, ate heartily, and, to Belle's evident satisfaction, +declared that he had never drank better tea in his life, or indeed +any half so good. Breakfast over, he said that he must now go and +harness his horses, as it was high time for him to return to his +inn. Belle gave him her hand and wished him farewell: the +postillion shook her hand warmly, and was advancing close up to +her--for what purpose I cannot say--whereupon Belle, withdrawing +her hand, drew herself up with an air which caused the postillion +to retreat a step or two with an exceedingly sheepish look. +Recovering himself, however, he made a low bow, and proceeded up +the path. I attended him, and helped to harness his horses and put +them to the vehicle; he then shook me by the hand, and taking the +reins and whip, mounted to his seat; ere he drove away he thus +addressed me: "If ever I forget your kindness and that of the +young woman below, dash my buttons. If ever either of you should +enter my inn you may depend upon a warm welcome, the best that can +be set before you, and no expense to either, for I will give both +of you the best of characters to the governor, who is the very best +fellow upon all the road. As for your linch-pin, I trust it will +serve till I get home, when I will take it out and keep it in +remembrance of you all the days of my life:" then giving the horses +a jerk with his reins, he cracked his whip and drove off. + +I returned to the dingle, Belle had removed the breakfast things, +and was busy in her own encampment: nothing occurred, worthy of +being related, for two hours, at the end of which time Belle +departed on a short expedition, and I again found myself alone in +the dingle. + + + +CHAPTER II + + + +The Man in Black--The Emperor of Germany--Nepotism--Donna Olympia-- +Omnipotence--Camillo Astalli--The Five Propositions. + + +In the evening I received another visit from the man in black. I +had been taking a stroll in the neighbourhood, and was sitting in +the dingle in rather a listless manner, scarcely knowing how to +employ myself; his coming, therefore, was by no means disagreeable +to me. I produced the hollands and glass from my tent, where +Isopel Berners had requested me to deposit them, and also some lump +sugar, then taking the gotch I fetched water from the spring, and, +sitting down, begged the man in black to help himself; he was not +slow in complying with my desire, and prepared for himself a glass +of hollands and water with a lump of sugar in it. After he had +taken two or three sips with evident satisfaction, I, remembering +his chuckling exclamation of "Go to Rome for money," when he last +left the dingle, took the liberty, after a little conversation, of +reminding him of it, whereupon, with a he! he! he! he replied, +"Your idea was not quite so original as I supposed. After leaving +you the other night, I remembered having read of an Emperor of +Germany who conceived the idea of applying to Rome for money, and +actually put it into practice. + +"Urban the Eighth then occupied the papal chair, of the family of +the Barbarini, nicknamed the Mosche, or Flies, from the +circumstance of bees being their armorial bearing. The Emperor +having exhausted all his money in endeavouring to defend the church +against Gustavus Adolphus, the great King of Sweden, who was bent +on its destruction, applied in his necessity to the Pope for a loan +of money. The Pope, however, and his relations, whose cellars were +at that time full of the money of the church, which they had been +plundering for years, refused to lend him a scudo; whereupon a +pasquinade picture was stuck up at Rome, representing the church +lying on a bed, gashed with dreadful wounds, and beset all over +with flies, which were sucking her, whilst the Emperor of Germany +was kneeling before her with a miserable face, requesting a little +money towards carrying on the war against the heretics, to which +the poor church was made to say: 'How can I assist you, O my +champion, do you not see that the flies have sucked me to the very +bones?' Which story," said he, "shows that the idea of going to +Rome for money was not quite so original as I imagined the other +night, though utterly preposterous. + +"This affair," said he, "occurred in what were called the days of +nepotism. Certain popes, who wished to make themselves in some +degree independent of the cardinals, surrounded themselves with +their nephews and the rest of their family, who sucked the church +and Christendom as much as they could, none doing so more +effectually than the relations of Urban the Eighth, at whose death, +according to the book called the 'Nipotismo di Roma,' there were in +the Barbarini family two hundred and twenty-seven governments, +abbeys and high dignities; and so much hard cash in their +possession, that threescore and ten mules were scarcely sufficient +to convey the plunder of one of them to Palestrina." He added, +however, that it was probable that Christendom fared better whilst +the popes were thus independent, as it was less sucked, whereas +before and after that period it was sucked by hundreds instead of +tens, by the cardinals and all their relations, instead of by the +pope and his nephews only. + +Then, after drinking rather copiously of his hollands, he said that +it was certainly no bad idea of the popes to surround themselves +with nephews, on whom they bestowed great church dignities, as by +so doing they were tolerably safe from poison, whereas a pope, if +abandoned to the cardinals, might at any time be made away with by +them, provided they thought that he lived too long, or that he +seemed disposed to do anything which they disliked; adding, that +Ganganelli would never have been poisoned provided he had had +nephews about him to take care of his life, and to see that nothing +unholy was put into his food, or a bustling stirring brother's wife +like Donna Olympia. He then with a he! he! he! asked me if I had +ever read the book called the "Nipotismo di Roma"; and on my +replying in the negative, he told me that it was a very curious and +entertaining book, which he occasionally looked at in an idle hour, +and proceeded to relate to me anecdotes out of the "Nipotismo di +Roma," about the successor of Urban, Innocent the Tenth, and Donna +Olympia, showing how fond he was of her, and how she cooked his +food, and kept the cardinals away from it, and how she and her +creatures plundered Christendom, with the sanction of the Pope, +until Christendom, becoming enraged, insisted that he should put +her away, which he did for a time, putting a nephew--one Camillo +Astalli--in her place, in which, however, he did not continue long; +for the Pope, conceiving a pique against him, banished him from his +sight, and recalled Donna Olympia, who took care of his food, and +plundered Christendom until Pope Innocent died. + +I said that I only wondered that between pope and cardinals the +whole system of Rome had not long fallen to the ground, and was +told, in reply, that its not having fallen was the strongest proof +of its vital power, and the absolute necessity for the existence of +the system. That the system, notwithstanding its occasional +disorders, went on. Popes and cardinals might prey upon its +bowels, and sell its interests, but the system survived. The +cutting off of this or that member was not able to cause Rome any +vital loss; for, as soon as she lost a member, the loss was +supplied by her own inherent vitality; though her popes had been +poisoned by cardinals, and her cardinals by popes; and though +priests occasionally poisoned popes, cardinals, and each other, +after all that had been, and might be, she had still, and would +ever have, her priests, cardinals, and pope. + +Finding the man in black so communicative and reasonable, I +determined to make the best of my opportunity, and learn from him +all I could with respect to the papal system, and told him that he +would particularly oblige me by telling me who the Pope of Rome +was; and received for answer, that he was an old man elected by a +majority of cardinals to the papal chair; who, immediately after +his election, became omnipotent and equal to God on earth. On my +begging him not to talk such nonsense, and asking him how a person +could be omnipotent who could not always preserve himself from +poison, even when fenced round by nephews, or protected by a +bustling woman, he, after taking a long sip of hollands and water, +told me that I must not expect too much from omnipotence; for +example, that as it would be unreasonable to expect that One above +could annihilate the past--for instance, the Seven Years' War, or +the French Revolution--though any one who believed in Him would +acknowledge Him to be omnipotent, so would it be unreasonable for +the faithful to expect that the Pope could always guard himself +from poison. Then, after looking at me for a moment stedfastly, +and taking another sip, he told me that popes had frequently done +impossibilities; for example, Innocent the Tenth had created a +nephew; for, not liking particularly any of his real nephews, he +had created the said Camillo Astalli his nephew; asking me, with a +he! he! "What but omnipotence could make a young man nephew to a +person to whom he was not in the slightest degree related?" On my +observing that of course no one believed that the young fellow was +really the Pope's nephew, though the Pope might have adopted him as +such, the man in black replied, "that the reality of the nephewship +of Camillo Astalli had hitherto never become a point of faith; let, +however, the present pope, or any other pope, proclaim that it is +necessary to believe in the reality of the nephewship of Camillo +Astalli, and see whether the faithful would not believe in it. Who +can doubt that," he added, "seeing that they believe in the reality +of the five propositions of Jansenius? The Jesuits, wishing to +ruin the Jansenists, induced a pope to declare that such and such +damnable opinions, which they called five propositions, were to be +found in a book written by Jansen, though, in reality, no such +propositions were to be found there; whereupon the existence of +these propositions became forthwith a point of faith to the +faithful. Do you then think," he demanded, "that there is one of +the faithful who would not swallow, if called upon, the nephewship +of Camillo Astalli as easily as the five propositions of +Jansenius?" "Surely, then," said I, "the faithful must be a pretty +pack of simpletons!" Whereupon the man in black exclaimed, "What! +a Protestant, and an infringer of the rights of faith! Here's a +fellow, who would feel himself insulted if any one were to ask him +how he could believe in the miraculous conception, calling people +simpletons who swallow the five propositions of Jansenius, and are +disposed, if called upon, to swallow the reality of the nephewship +of Camillo Astalli." + +I was about to speak, when I was interrupted by the arrival of +Belle. After unharnessing her donkey, and adjusting her person a +little, she came and sat down by us. In the meantime I had helped +my companion to some more hollands and water, and had plunged with +him into yet deeper discourse. + + + +CHAPTER III + + + +Necessity of Religion--The Great Indian One--Image-worship-- +Shakespeare--The Pat Answer--Krishna--Amen. + + +Having told the man in black that I should like to know all the +truth with regard to the Pope and his system, he assured me he +should be delighted to give me all the information in his power; +that he had come to the dingle, not so much for the sake of the +good cheer which I was in the habit of giving him, as in the hope +of inducing me to enlist under the banners of Rome, and to fight in +her cause; and that he had no doubt that, by speaking out frankly +to me, he ran the best chance of winning me over. + +He then proceeded to tell me that the experience of countless ages +had proved the necessity of religion; the necessity, he would +admit, was only for simpletons; but as nine-tenths of the dwellers +upon this earth were simpletons, it would never do for sensible +people to run counter to their folly, but, on the contrary, it was +their wisest course to encourage them in it, always provided that, +by so doing, sensible people would derive advantage; that the truly +sensible people of this world were the priests, who, without caring +a straw for religion for its own sake, made use of it as a cord by +which to draw the simpletons after them; that there were many +religions in this world, all of which had been turned to excellent +account by the priesthood; but that the one the best adapted for +the purposes of priestcraft was the popish, which, he said, was the +oldest in the world and the best calculated to endure. On my +inquiring what he meant by saying the popish religion was the +oldest in the world, whereas there could be no doubt that the Greek +and Roman religion had existed long before it, to say nothing of +the old Indian religion still in existence and vigour; he said, +with a nod, after taking a sip at his glass, that, between me and +him, the popish religion, that of Greece and Rome, and the old +Indian system were, in reality, one and the same. + +"You told me that you intended to be frank," said I; "but, however +frank you may be, I think you are rather wild." + +"We priests of Rome," said the man in black, "even those amongst us +who do not go much abroad, know a great deal about church matters, +of which you heretics have very little idea. Those of our brethren +of the Propaganda, on their return home from distant missions, not +unfrequently tell us very strange things relating to our dear +mother; for example, our first missionaries to the East were not +slow in discovering and telling to their brethren that our religion +and the great Indian one were identical, no more difference between +them than between Ram and Rome. Priests, convents, beads, prayers, +processions, fastings, penances, all the same, not forgetting +anchorites and vermin, he! he! The pope they found under the title +of the grand lama, a sucking child surrounded by an immense number +of priests. Our good brethren, some two hundred years ago, had a +hearty laugh, which their successors have often re-echoed; they +said that helpless suckling and its priests put them so much in +mind of their own old man, surrounded by his cardinals, he! he! +Old age is second childhood." + +"Did they find Christ?" said I. + +"They found him too," said the man in black, "that is, they saw his +image; he is considered in India as a pure kind of being, and on +that account, perhaps, is kept there rather in the background, even +as he is here." + +"All this is very mysterious to me," said I. + +"Very likely," said the man in black; "but of this I am tolerably +sure, and so are most of those of Rome, that modern Rome had its +religion from ancient Rome, which had its religion from the East." + +"But how?" I demanded. + +"It was brought about, I believe, by the wanderings of nations," +said the man in black. "A brother of the Propaganda, a very +learned man, once told me--I do not mean Mezzofanti, who has not +five ideas--this brother once told me that all we of the Old World, +from Calcutta to Dublin, are of the same stock, and were originally +of the same language, and--" + +"All of one religion," I put in. + +"All of one religion," said the man in black; "and now follow +different modifications of the same religion." + +"We Christians are not image-worshippers," said I. + +"You heretics are not, you mean," said the man in black; "but you +will be put down, just as you have always been, though others may +rise up after you; the true religion is image-worship; people may +strive against it, but they will only work themselves to an oil; +how did it fare with that Greek Emperor, the Iconoclast, what was +his name, Leon the Isaurian? Did not his image-breaking cost him +Italy, the fairest province of his empire, and did not ten fresh +images start up at home for every one which he demolished? Oh! you +little know the craving which the soul sometimes feels after a good +bodily image." + +"I have indeed no conception of it," said I; "I have an abhorrence +of idolatry--the idea of bowing before a graven figure!" + +"The idea, indeed!" said Belle, who had now joined us. + +"Did you never bow before that of Shakespeare?" said the man in +black, addressing himself to me, after a low bow to Belle. + +"I don't remember that I ever did," said I, "but even suppose I +did?" + +"Suppose you did," said the man in black; "shame on you, Mr. Hater +of Idolatry; why, the very supposition brings you to the ground; +you must make figures of Shakespeare, must you? then why not of St. +Antonio, or Ignacio, or of a greater personage still! I know what +you are going to say," he cried, interrupting me, as I was about to +speak. "You don't make his image in order to pay it divine +honours, but only to look at it, and think of Shakespeare; but this +looking at a thing in order to think of a person is the very basis +of idolatry. Shakespeare's works are not sufficient for you; no +more are the Bible or the legend of Saint Anthony or Saint Ignacio +for us, that is for those of us who believe in them; I tell you, +Zingara, that no religion can exist long which rejects a good +bodily image." + +"Do you think," said I, "that Shakespeare's works would not exist +without his image?" + +"I believe," said the man in black, "that Shakespeare's image is +looked at more than his works, and will be looked at, and perhaps +adored, when they are forgotten. I am surprised that they have not +been forgotten long ago; I am no admirer of them." + +"But I can't imagine," said I, "how you will put aside the +authority of Moses. If Moses strove against image-worship, should +not his doing so be conclusive as to the impropriety of the +practice: what higher authority can you have than that of Moses?" + +"The practice of the great majority of the human race," said the +man in black, "and the recurrence to image-worship where image- +worship has been abolished. Do you know that Moses is considered +by the church as no better than a heretic, and though, for +particular reasons, it has been obliged to adopt his writings, the +adoption was merely a sham one, as it never paid the slightest +attention to them? No, no, the church was never led by Moses, nor +by one mightier than he, whose doctrine it has equally nullified--I +allude to Krishna in his second avatar; the church, it is true, +governs in his name, but not unfrequently gives him the lie, if he +happens to have said anything which it dislikes. Did you never +hear the reply which Padre Paolo Segani made to the French +Protestant Jean Anthoine Guerin, who had asked him whether it was +easier for Christ to have been mistaken in his Gospel, than for the +Pope to be mistaken in his decrees?" + +"I never heard their names before," said I. + +"The answer was pat," said the man in black, "though he who made it +was confessedly the most ignorant fellow of the very ignorant order +to which he belonged, the Augustine. 'Christ might err as a man,' +said he, 'but the Pope can never err, being God.' The whole story +is related in the Nipotismo." + +"I wonder you should ever have troubled yourself with Christ at +all," said I. + +"What was to be done?" said the man in black; "the power of that +name suddenly came over Europe, like the power of a mighty wind; it +was said to have come from Judea, and from Judea it probably came +when it first began to agitate minds in these parts; but it seems +to have been known in the remote East, more or less, for thousands +of years previously. It filled people's minds with madness; it was +followed by books which were never much regarded, as they contained +little of insanity; but the name! what fury that breathed into +people! the books were about peace and gentleness, but the name was +the most horrible of war-cries--those who wished to uphold old +names at first strove to oppose it, but their efforts were feeble, +and they had no good war-cry; what was Mars as a war-cry compared +with the name of . . . ? It was said that they persecuted +terribly, but who said so? The Christians. The Christians could +have given them a lesson in the art of persecution, and eventually +did so. None but Christians have ever been good persecutors; well, +the old religion succumbed, Christianity prevailed, for the +ferocious is sure to prevail over the gentle." + +"I thought," said I, "you stated a little time ago that the Popish +religion and the ancient Roman are the same?" + +"In every point but that name, that Krishna and the fury and love +of persecution which it inspired," said the man in black. "A hot +blast came from the East, sounding Krishna; it absolutely maddened +people's minds, and the people would call themselves his children; +we will not belong to Jupiter any longer, we will belong to +Krishna, and they did belong to Krishna; that is in name, but in +nothing else; for who ever cared for Krishna in the Christian +world, or who ever regarded the words attributed to him, or put +them in practice?" + +"Why, we Protestants regard his words, and endeavour to practise +what they enjoin as much as possible." + +"But you reject his image," sad the man in black; "better reject +his words than his image: no religion can exist long which rejects +a good bodily image. Why, the very negro barbarians of High +Barbary could give you a lesson on that point; they have their +fetish images, to which they look for help in their afflictions; +they have likewise a high priest, whom they call--" + +"Mumbo Jumbo," said I; "I know all about him already." + +"How came you to know anything about him?" said the man in black, +with a look of some surprise. + +"Some of us poor Protestants tinkers," said I, "though we live in +dingles, are also acquainted with a thing or two." + +"I really believe you are," said the man in black, staring at me; +"but, in connection with this Mumbo Jumbo, I could relate to you a +comical story about a fellow, an English servant, I once met at +Rome." + +"It would be quite unnecessary," said I; "I would much sooner hear +you talk about Krishna, his words and image." + +"Spoken like a true heretic," said the man in black; "one of the +faithful would have placed his image before his words; for what are +all the words in the world compared with a good bodily image!" + +"I believe you occasionally quote his words?" said I. + +"He! he!" said the man in black; "occasionally." + +"For example," said I, "upon this rock I will found my church." + +"He! he!" said the man in black; "you must really become one of +us." + +"Yet you must have had some difficulty in getting the rock to +Rome?" + +"None whatever," said the man in black; "faith can remove +mountains, to say nothing of rocks--ho! ho!" + +"But I cannot imagine," said I, "what advantage you could derive +from perverting those words of Scripture in which the Saviour talks +about eating his body." + +"I do not know, indeed, why we troubled our heads about the matter +at all," said the man in black; "but when you talk about perverting +the meaning of the text, you speak ignorantly, Mr. Tinker; when he +whom you call the Saviour gave his followers the sop, and bade them +eat it, telling them it was his body, he delicately alluded to what +it was incumbent upon them to do after his death, namely, to eat +his body." + +"You do not mean to say that he intended they should actually eat +his body?" + +"Then you suppose ignorantly," said the man in black; "eating the +bodies of the dead was a heathenish custom, practised by the heirs +and legatees of people who left property; and this custom is +alluded to in the text." + +"But what has the New Testament to do with heathen customs," said +I, "except to destroy them?" + +"More than you suppose," said the man in black. "We priests of +Rome, who have long lived at Rome, know much better what the New +Testament is made of than the heretics and their theologians, not +forgetting their Tinkers; though I confess some of the latter have +occasionally surprised us--for example, Bunyan. The New Testament +is crowded with allusions to heathen customs, and with words +connected with pagan sorcery. Now, with respect to words, I would +fain have you, who pretend to be a philologist, tell me the meaning +of Amen." + +I made no answer. + +"We of Rome," said the man in black, "know two or three things of +which the heretics are quite ignorant; for example, there are those +amongst us--those, too, who do not pretend to be philologists--who +know what Amen is, and, moreover, how we got it. We got it from +our ancestors, the priests of ancient Rome; and they got the word +from their ancestors of the East, the priests of Buddh and Brahma." + +"And what is the meaning of the word?" I demanded. + +"Amen," said the man in black, "is a modification of the old Hindoo +formula, Omani batsikhom, by the almost ceaseless repetition of +which the Indians hope to be received finally to the rest or state +of forgetfulness of Buddh or Brahma; a foolish practice you will +say, but are you heretics much wiser, who are continually sticking +Amen to the end of your prayers, little knowing when you do so, +that you are consigning yourselves to the repose of Buddh! Oh, +what hearty laughs our missionaries have had when comparing the +eternally-sounding Eastern gibberish of Omani batsikhom, Omani +batsikhom, and the Ave Maria and Amen Jesus of our own idiotical +devotees." + +"I have nothing to say about the Ave Marias and Amens of your +superstitious devotees," said I; "I dare say that they use them +nonsensically enough, but in putting Amen to the end of a prayer, +we merely intend to express, 'So let it be.'" + +"It means nothing of the kind," said the man in black; "and the +Hindoos might just as well put your national oath at the end of +their prayers, as perhaps they will after a great many thousand +years, when English is forgotten, and only a few words of it +remembered by dim tradition without being understood. How strange +if, after the lapse of four thousand years, the Hindoos should damn +themselves to the blindness so dear to their present masters, even +as their masters at present consign themselves to the forgetfulness +so dear to the Hindoos; but my glass has been empty for a +considerable time; perhaps, Bellissima Biondina," said he, +addressing Belle, "you will deign to replenish it?" + +"I shall do no such thing," said Belle, "you have drunk quite +enough, and talked more than enough, and to tell you the truth I +wish you would leave us alone." + +"Shame on you, Belle," said I; "consider the obligations of +hospitality." + +"I am sick of that word," said Belle, "you are so frequently +misusing it; were this place not Mumpers' Dingle, and consequently +as free to the fellow as ourselves, I would lead him out of it." + +"Pray be quiet, Belle," said I. "You had better help yourself," +said I, addressing myself to the man in black, "the lady is angry +with you." + +"I am sorry for it," said the man in black; "if she is angry with +me, I am not so with her, and shall be always proud to wait upon +her; in the meantime, I will wait upon myself." + + + +CHAPTER IV + + + +The Proposal--The Scotch Novel--Latitude--Miracles--Pestilent +Heretics--Old Fraser--Wonderful Texts--No Armenian. + + +The man in black having helped himself to some more of his +favourite beverage, and tasted it, I thus addressed him: "The +evening is getting rather advanced, and I can see that this lady," +pointing to Belle, "is anxious for her tea, which she prefers to +take cosily and comfortably with me in the dingle: the place, it +is true, is as free to you as to ourselves, nevertheless, as we are +located here by necessity, whilst you merely come as a visitor, I +must take the liberty of telling you that we shall be glad to be +alone, as soon as you have said what you have to say, and have +finished the glass of refreshment at present in your hand. I think +you said some time ago that one of your motives for coming hither +was to induce me to enlist under the banner of Rome. I wish to +know whether that was really the case?" + +"Decidedly so," said the man in black; "I come here principally in +the hope of enlisting you in our regiment, in which I have no doubt +you could do us excellent service." + +"Would you enlist my companion as well?" I demanded. + +"We should be only too proud to have her among us, whether she +comes with you or alone," said the man in black, with a polite bow +to Belle. + +"Before we give you an answer," I replied, "I would fain know more +about you; perhaps you will declare your name?" + +"That I will never do," said the man in black; "no one in England +knows it but myself, and I will not declare it, even in a dingle; +as for the rest, Sono un Prete Cattolico Appostolico--that is all +that many a one of us can say for himself, and it assuredly means a +great deal." + +"We will now proceed to business," said I. "You must be aware that +we English are generally considered a self-interested people." + +"And with considerable justice," said the man in black, drinking. +"Well, you are a person of acute perception, and I will presently +make it evident to you that it would be to your interest to join +with us. You are at present, evidently, in very needy +circumstances, and are lost, not only to yourself, but to the +world; but should you enlist with us, I could find you an +occupation not only agreeable, but one in which your talents would +have free scope. I would introduce you in the various grand houses +here in England, to which I have myself admission, as a surprising +young gentleman of infinite learning, who by dint of study has +discovered that the Roman is the only true faith. I tell you +confidently that our popish females would make a saint, nay, a God +of you; they are fools enough for anything. There is one person in +particular with whom I would wish to make you acquainted, in the +hope that you would be able to help me to perform good service to +the holy see. He is a gouty old fellow, of some learning, residing +in an old hall, near the great western seaport, and is one of the +very few amongst the English Catholics possessing a grain of sense. +I think you could help us to govern him, for he is not unfrequently +disposed to be restive, asks us strange questions--occasionally +threatens us with his crutch; and behaves so that we are often +afraid that we shall lose him, or, rather, his property, which he +has bequeathed to us, and which is enormous. I am sure that you +could help us to deal with him; sometimes with your humour, +sometimes with your learning, and perhaps occasionally with your +fists." + +"And in what manner would you provide for my companion?" said I. + +"We would place her at once," said the man in black, "in the house +of two highly respectable Catholic ladies in this neighbourhood, +where she would be treated with every care and consideration till +her conversion should be accomplished in a regular manner; we would +then remove her to a female monastic establishment, where, after +undergoing a year's probation, during which time she would be +instructed in every elegant accomplishment, she should take the +veil. Her advancement would speedily follow, for, with such a face +and figure, she would make a capital lady abbess, especially in +Italy, to which country she would probably be sent; ladies of her +hair and complexion--to say nothing of her height--being a +curiosity in the south. With a little care and management she +could soon obtain a vast reputation for sanctity; and who knows but +after her death she might become a glorified saint--he! he! Sister +Maria Theresa, for that is the name I propose you should bear. +Holy Mother Maria Theresa--glorified and celestial saint, I have +the honour of drinking to your health," and the man in black drank. + +"Well, Belle," said I, "what have you to say to the gentleman's +proposal?" + +"That if he goes on in this way I will break his glass against his +mouth." + +"You have heard the lady's answer," said I. + +"I have," said the man in black, "and shall not press the matter. +I can't help, however, repeating that she would make a capital lady +abbess; she would keep the nuns in order, I warrant her; no easy +matter! Break the glass against my mouth--he! he! How she would +send the holy utensils flying at the nuns' heads occasionally, and +just the person to wring the nose of Satan, should he venture to +appear one night in her cell in the shape of a handsome black man. +No offence, madam, no offence, pray retain your seat," said he, +observing that Belle had started up; "I mean no offence. Well, if +you will not consent to be an abbess, perhaps you will consent to +follow this young Zingaro, and to co-operate with him and us. I am +a priest, madam, and can join you both in an instant, connubio +stabili, as I suppose the knot has not been tied already." + +"Hold your mumping gibberish," said Belle, "and leave the dingle +this moment, for though 'tis free to every one, you have no right +to insult me in it." + +"Pray be pacified," said I to Belle, getting up, and placing myself +between her and the man in black, "he will presently leave, take my +word for it--there, sit down again," said I, as I led her to her +seat; then, resuming my own, I said to the man in black: "I advise +you to leave the dingle as soon as possible." + +"I should wish to have your answer to my proposal first," said he. + +"Well, then, here you shall have it: I will not entertain your +proposal; I detest your schemes: they are both wicked and +foolish." + +"Wicked," said the man in black, "have they not--he! he!--the +furtherance of religion in view?" + +"A religion," said I, "in which you yourself do not believe, and +which you contemn." + +"Whether I believe in it or not," said the man in black, "it is +adapted for the generality of the human race; so I will forward it, +and advise you to do the same. It was nearly extirpated in these +regions, but it is springing up again, owing to circumstances. +Radicalism is a good friend to us; all the liberals laud up our +system out of hatred to the Established Church, though our system +is ten times less liberal than the Church of England. Some of them +have really come over to us. I myself confess a baronet who +presided over the first radical meeting ever held in England--he +was an atheist when he came over to us, in the hope of mortifying +his own church--but he is now--ho! ho!--a real Catholic devotee-- +quite afraid of my threats; I make him frequently scourge himself +before me. Well, Radicalism does us good service, especially +amongst the lower classes, for Radicalism chiefly flourishes +amongst them; for though a baronet or two may be found amongst the +radicals, and perhaps as many lords--fellows who have been +discarded by their own order for clownishness, or something they +have done--it incontestably flourishes best among the lower orders. +Then the love of what is foreign is a great friend to us; this love +is chiefly confined to the middle and upper classes. Some admire +the French, and imitate them; others must needs be Spaniards, dress +themselves up in a zamarra, stick a cigar in their mouth, and say, +'Carajo.' Others would pass for Germans; he! he! the idea of any +one wishing to pass for a German! but what has done us more service +than anything else in these regions--I mean amidst the middle +classes--has been the novel, the Scotch novel. The good folks, +since they have read the novels, have become Jacobites; and, +because all the Jacobs were Papists, the good folks must become +Papists also, or, at least, papistically inclined. The very Scotch +Presbyterians, since they have read the novels, are become all but +Papists; I speak advisedly, having lately been amongst them. +There's a trumpery bit of a half papist sect, called the Scotch +Episcopalian Church, which lay dormant and nearly forgotten for +upwards of a hundred years, which has of late got wonderfully into +fashion in Scotland, because, forsooth, some of the long-haired +gentry of the novels were said to belong to it, such as Montrose +and Dundee; and to this the Presbyterians are going over in +throngs, traducing and vilifying their own forefathers, or denying +them altogether, and calling themselves descendants of--ho! ho! +ho!--Scottish Cavaliers!!! I have heard them myself repeating +snatches of Jacobite ditties about 'Bonnie Dundee,' and - + + +"'Come, fill up my cup, and fill up my can, +And saddle my horse, and call up my man.' + + +There's stuff for you! Not that I object to the first part of the +ditty. It is natural enough that a Scotchman should cry, 'Come, +fill up my cup!' more especially if he's drinking at another +person's expense--all Scotchmen being fond of liquor at free cost: +but 'Saddle his horse!!!'--for what purpose, I would ask? Where is +the use of saddling a horse, unless you can ride him? and where was +there ever a Scotchman who could ride?" + +"Of course you have not a drop of Scotch blood in your veins," said +I, "otherwise you would never have uttered that last sentence." + +"Don't be too sure of that," said the man in black; "you know +little of Popery if you imagine that it cannot extinguish love of +country, even in a Scotchman. A thorough-going Papist--and who +more thorough-going than myself?--cares nothing for his country; +and why should he? he belongs to a system, and not to a country." + +"One thing," said I, "connected with you, I cannot understand; you +call yourself a thorough-going Papist, yet are continually saying +the most pungent things against Popery, and turning to unbounded +ridicule those who show any inclination to embrace it." + +"Rome is a very sensible old body," said the man in black, "and +little cares what her children say, provided they do her bidding. +She knows several things, and amongst others, that no servants work +so hard and faithfully as those who curse their masters at every +stroke they do. She was not fool enough to be angry with the +Miquelets of Alba, who renounced her, and called her 'puta' all the +time they were cutting the throats of the Netherlanders. Now, if +she allowed her faithful soldiers the latitude of renouncing her, +and calling her 'puta' in the market-place, think not she is so +unreasonable as to object to her faithful priests occasionally +calling her 'puta' in the dingle." + +"But," said I, "suppose some one were to tell the world some of the +disorderly things which her priests say in the dingle?" + +"He would have the fate of Cassandra," said the man in black; "no +one would believe him--yes, the priests would: but they would make +no sign of belief. They believe in the Alcoran des Cordeliers-- +that is, those who have read it; but they make no sign." + +"A pretty system," said I, "which extinguishes love of country and +of everything noble, and brings the minds of its ministers to a +parity with those of devils, who delight in nothing but mischief." + +"The system," said the man in black, "is a grand one, with +unbounded vitality. Compare it with your Protestantism, and you +will see the difference. Popery is ever at work, whilst +Protestantism is supine. A pretty church, indeed, the Protestant! +Why, it can't even work a miracle." + +"Can your church work miracles?" I demanded. + +"That was the very question," said the man in black, "which the +ancient British clergy asked of Austin Monk, after they had been +fools enough to acknowledge their own inability. 'We don't pretend +to work miracles; do you?' 'Oh! dear me, yes,' said Austin; 'we +find no difficulty in the matter. We can raise the dead, we can +make the blind see; and to convince you, I will give sight to the +blind. Here is this blind Saxon, whom you cannot cure, but on +whose eyes I will manifest my power, in order to show the +difference between the true and the false church;' and forthwith, +with the assistance of a handkerchief and a little hot water, he +opened the eyes of the barbarian. So we manage matters! A pretty +church, that old British church, which could not work miracles-- +quite as helpless as the modern one. The fools! was birdlime so +scarce a thing amongst them?--and were the properties of warm water +so unknown to them, that they could not close a pair of eyes and +open them?" + +"It's a pity," said I, "that the British clergy at that interview +with Austin, did not bring forward a blind Welshman, and ask the +monk to operate upon him." + +"Clearly," said the man in black; "that's what they ought to have +done; but they were fools without a single resource." Here he took +a sip at his glass. + +"But they did not believe in the miracle?" said I. + +"And what did their not believing avail them?" said the man in +black. "Austin remained master of the field, and they went away +holding their heads down, and muttering to themselves. What a fine +subject for a painting would be Austin's opening the eyes of the +Saxon barbarian, and the discomfiture of the British clergy! I +wonder it has not been painted!--he! he!" + +"I suppose your church still performs miracles occasionally!" said +I. + +"It does," said the man in black. "The Rev.--has lately been +performing miracles in Ireland, destroying devils that had got +possession of people; he has been eminently successful. In two +instances he not only destroyed the devils, but the lives of the +people possessed--he! he! Oh! there is so much energy in our +system; we are always at work, whilst Protestantism is supine." + +"You must not imagine," said I, "that all Protestants are supine; +some of them appear to be filled with unbounded zeal. They deal, +it is true, not in lying miracles, but they propagate God's Word. +I remember only a few months ago, having occasion for a Bible, +going to an establishment, the object of which was to send Bibles +all over the world. The supporters of that establishment could +have no self-interested views; for I was supplied by them with a +noble-sized Bible at a price so small as to preclude the idea that +it could bring any profit to the vendors." + +The countenance of the man in black slightly fell. "I know the +people to whom you allude," said he; "indeed, unknown to them, I +have frequently been to see them, and observed their ways. I tell +you frankly that there is not a set of people in this kingdom who +have caused our church so much trouble and uneasiness. I should +rather say that they alone cause us any; for as for the rest, what +with their drowsiness, their plethora, their folly and their +vanity, they are doing us anything but mischief. These fellows are +a pestilent set of heretics, whom we would gladly see burnt; they +are, with the most untiring perseverance, and in spite of divers +minatory declarations of the holy father, scattering their books +abroad through all Europe, and have caused many people in Catholic +countries to think that hitherto their priesthood have endeavoured, +as much as possible, to keep them blinded. There is one fellow +amongst them for whom we entertain a particular aversion; a big, +burly parson, with the face of a lion, the voice of a buffalo, and +a fist like a sledge-hammer. The last time I was there, I observed +that his eye was upon me, and I did not like the glance he gave me +at all; I observed him clench his fist, and I took my departure as +fast as I conveniently could. Whether he suspected who I was, I +know not; but I did not like his look at all, and do not intend to +go again." + +"Well, then," said I, "you confess that you have redoubtable +enemies to your plans in these regions, and that even amongst the +ecclesiastics there are some widely different from those of the +plethoric and Platitude schools?" + +"It is but too true," said the man in black; "and if the rest of +your church were like them we should quickly bid adieu to all hope +of converting these regions, but we are thankful to be able to say +that such folks are not numerous; there are, moreover, causes at +work quite sufficient to undermine even their zeal. Their sons +return at the vacations, from Oxford and Cambridge, puppies, full +of the nonsense which they have imbibed from Platitude professors; +and this nonsense they retail at home, where it fails not to make +some impression, whilst the daughters scream--I beg their pardons-- +warble about Scotland's Montrose and Bonny Dundee, and all the +Jacobs; so we have no doubt that their papas' zeal about the +propagation of such a vulgar book as the Bible will in a very +little time be terribly diminished. Old Rome will win, so you had +better join her." + +And the man in black drained the last drop in his glass. + +"Never," said I, "will I become the slave of Rome." + +"She will allow you latitude," said the man in black; "do but serve +her, and she will allow you to call her 'puta' at a decent time and +place, her popes occasionally call her 'puta.' A pope has been +known to start from his bed at midnight and rush out into the +corridor, and call out 'puta' three times in a voice which pierced +the Vatican; that pope was--" + +"Alexander the Sixth, I dare say," said I; "the greatest monster +that ever existed, though the worthiest head which the pope system +ever had--so his conscience was not always still. I thought it had +been seared with a brand of iron." + +"I did not allude to him, but to a much more modern pope," said the +man in black; "it is true he brought the word, which is Spanish, +from Spain, his native country, to Rome. He was very fond of +calling the church by that name, and other popes have taken it up. +She will allow you to call her by it, if you belong to her." + +"I shall call her so," said I, "without belonging to her, or asking +her permission." + +"She will allow you to treat her as such, if you belong to her," +said the man in black; "there is a chapel in Rome, where there is a +wondrously fair statue--the son of a cardinal--I mean his nephew-- +once--Well, she did not cut off his head, but slightly boxed his +cheek and bade him go." + +"I have read all about that in 'Keysler's Travels,'" said I; "do +you tell her that I would not touch her with a pair of tongs, +unless to seize her nose." + +"She is fond of lucre," said the man in black; "but does not grudge +a faithful priest a little private perquisite," and he took out a +very handsome gold repeater. + +"Are you not afraid," said I, "to flash that watch before the eyes +of a poor tinker in a dingle?" + +"Not before the eyes of one like you," said the man in black. + +"It is getting late," said I; "I care not for perquisites." + +"So you will not join us?" said the man in black. + +"You have had my answer," said I. + +"If I belong to Rome," said the man in black, "why should not you?" + +"I may be a poor tinker," said I; "but I may never have undergone +what you have. You remember, perhaps, the fable of the fox who had +lost his tail?" + +The man in black winced, but almost immediately recovering himself, +he said, "Well, we can do without you, we are sure of winning." + +"It is not the part of wise people," said I, "to make sure of the +battle before it is fought: there's the landlord of the public- +house, who made sure that his cocks would win, yet the cocks lost +the main, and the landlord is little better than a bankrupt." + +"People very different from the landlord," said the man in black, +"both in intellect and station, think we shall surely win; there +are clever machinators among us who have no doubt of our success." + +"Well," said I, "I will set the landlord aside, and will adduce one +who was in every point a very different person from the landlord, +both in understanding and station; he was very fond of laying +schemes, and, indeed, many of them turned out successful. His last +and darling one, however, miscarried, notwithstanding that by his +calculations he had persuaded himself that there was no possibility +of its failing--the person that I allude to was old Fraser--" + +"Who?" said the man in black, giving a start, and letting his glass +fall. + +"Old Fraser, of Lovat," said I, "the prince of all conspirators and +machinators; he made sure of placing the Pretender on the throne of +these realms. 'I can bring into the field so many men,' said he; +'my son-in-law Cluny, so many, and likewise my cousin, and my good +friend;' then speaking of those on whom the government reckoned for +support, he would say, 'So and so are lukewarm, this person is +ruled by his wife, who is with us, the clergy are anything but +hostile to us, and as for the soldiers and sailors, half are +disaffected to King George, and the rest cowards.' Yet when things +came to a trial, this person whom he had calculated upon to join +the Pretender did not stir from his home, another joined the +hostile ranks, the presumed cowards turned out heroes, and those +whom he thought heroes ran away like lusty fellows at Culloden; in +a word, he found himself utterly mistaken, and in nothing more than +in himself; he thought he was a hero, and proved himself nothing +more than an old fox; he got up a hollow tree, didn't he, just like +a fox? + + +"'L'opere sue non furon leonine, ma di volpe.'" + + +The man in black sat silent for a considerable time, and at length +answered in rather a faltering voice, "I was not prepared for this; +you have frequently surprised me by your knowledge of things which +I should never have expected any person of your appearance to be +acquainted with, but that you should be aware of my name is a +circumstance utterly incomprehensible to me. I had imagined that +no person in England was acquainted with it; indeed, I don't see +how any person should be, I have revealed it to no one, not being +particularly proud of it. Yes, I acknowledge that my name is +Fraser, and that I am of the blood of that family or clan, of which +the rector of our college once said, that he was firmly of opinion +that every individual member was either rogue or fool. I was born +at Madrid, of pure, oime, Fraser blood. My parents, at an early +age, took me to -, where they shortly died, not, however, before +they had placed me in the service of a cardinal, with whom I +continued for some years, and who, when he had no further occasion +for me, sent me to the college, in the left-hand cloister of which, +as you enter, rest the bones of Sir John -; there, in studying +logic and humane letters, I lost whatever of humanity I had +retained when discarded by the cardinal. Let me not, however, +forget two points,--I am a Fraser, it is true, but not a Flannagan; +I may bear the vilest name of Britain, but not of Ireland; I was +bred up at the English house, and there is at--a house for the +education of bogtrotters; I was not bred up at that; beneath the +lowest gulf, there is one yet lower; whatever my blood may be, it +is at least not Irish; whatever my education may have been, I was +not bred at the Irish seminary--on those accounts I am thankful-- +yes, per dio! I am thankful. After some years at college--but why +should I tell you my history? you know it already perfectly well, +probably much better than myself. I am now a missionary priest, +labouring in heretic England, like Parsons and Garnet of old, save +and except that, unlike them, I run no danger, for the times are +changed. As I told you before, I shall cleave to Rome--I must; no +hay remedio, as they say at Madrid, and I will do my best to +further her holy plans--he! he!--but I confess I begin to doubt of +their being successful here--you put me out; old Fraser, of Lovat! +I have heard my father talk of him; he had a gold-headed cane, with +which he once knocked my grandfather down--he was an astute one, +but, as you say, mistaken, particularly in himself. I have read +his life by Arbuthnot, it is in the library of our college. +Farewell! I shall come no more to this dingle--to come would be of +no utility; I shall go and labour elsewhere, though--how you came +to know my name, is a fact quite inexplicable--farewell! to you +both." + +He then arose; and without further salutation departed from the +dingle, in which I never saw him again. "How, in the name of +wonder, came you to know that man's name?" said Belle, after he had +been gone some time. + +"I, Belle? I knew nothing of the fellow's name, I assure you." + +"But you mentioned his name." + +"If I did, it was merely casually, by way of illustration. I was +saying how frequently cunning people were mistaken in their +calculations, and I adduced the case of old Fraser, of Lovat, as +one in point; I brought forward his name, because I was well +acquainted with his history, from having compiled and inserted it +in a wonderful work, which I edited some months ago, entitled +'Newgate Lives and Trials,' but without the slightest idea that it +was the name of him who was sitting with us; he, however, thought +that I was aware of his name. Belle! Belle! for a long time I +doubted the truth of Scripture, owing to certain conceited +individuals, but now I begin to believe firmly; what wonderful +texts are in Scripture, Belle; 'The wicked trembleth where--where-- +'" + +"'They were afraid where no fear was; thou hast put them to +confusion, because God hath despised them,'" said Belle; "I have +frequently read it before the clergyman in the great house of Long +Melford. But if you did not know the man's name, why let him go +away supposing that you did?" + +"Oh, if he was fool enough to make such a mistake, I was not going +to undeceive him--no, no! Let the enemies of old England make the +most of all their blunders and mistakes, they will have no help +from me; but enough of the fellow, Belle; let us now have tea, and +after that--" + +"No Armenian," said Belle; "but I want to ask a question: pray are +all people of that man's name either rogues or fools?" + +"It is impossible for me to say, Belle, this person being the only +one of the name I have ever personally known. I suppose there are +good and bad, clever and foolish, amongst them, as amongst all +large bodies of people; however, after the tribe had been governed +for upwards of thirty years, by such a person as old Fraser, it +were no wonder if the greater part had become either rogues or +fools: he was a ruthless tyrant, Belle, over his own people, and +by his cruelty and rapaciousness must either have stunned them into +an apathy approaching to idiotcy, or made them artful knaves in +their own defence. The qualities of parents are generally +transmitted to their descendants--the progeny of trained pointers +are almost sure to point, even without being taught: if, +therefore, all Frasers are either rogues or fools, as this person +seems to insinuate, it is little to be wondered at, their parents +or grandparents having been in the training-school of old Fraser! +But enough of the old tyrant and his slaves. Belle, prepare tea +this moment, or dread my anger. I have not a gold-headed cane like +old Fraser of Lovat, but I have, what some people would dread much +more, an Armenian rune-stick." + + + +CHAPTER V + + + +Fresh Arrivals--Pitching the Tent--Certificated Wife--High-flying +Notions. + + +On the following morning, as I was about to leave my tent, I heard +the voice of Belle at the door, exclaiming, "Sleepest thou, or +wakest thou?" "I was never more awake in my life," said I, going +out. "What is the matter?" "He of the horse-shoe," said she, +"Jasper, of whom I have heard you talk, is above there on the field +with all his people; I went out about a quarter of an hour ago to +fill the kettle at the spring, and saw them arriving. "It is +well," said I; "have you any objection to asking him and his wife +to breakfast?" "You can do as you please," said she; "I have cups +enough, and have no objection to their company." "We are the first +occupiers of the ground," said I, "and, being so, should consider +ourselves in the light of hosts, and do our best to practise the +duties of hospitality." "How fond you are of using that word," +said Belle; "if you wish to invite the man and his wife, do so, +without more ado; remember, however, that I have not cups enough, +nor indeed tea enough, for the whole company." Thereupon hurrying +up the ascent, I presently found myself outside the dingle. It was +as usual a brilliant morning, the dewy blades of the rye-grass +which covered the plain sparkled brightly in the beams of the sun, +which had probably been about two hours above the horizon. A +rather numerous body of my ancient friends and allies occupied the +ground in the vicinity of the mouth of the dingle. About five +yards on the right I perceived Mr. Petulengro busily employed in +erecting his tent; he held in his hand an iron bar, sharp at the +bottom, with a kind of arm projecting from the top for the purpose +of supporting a kettle or cauldron over the fire, and which is +called in the Romanian language "Kekauviskoe saster." With the +sharp end of this Mr. Petulengro was making holes in the earth, at +about twenty inches distant from each other, into which he inserted +certain long rods with a considerable bend towards the top, which +constituted no less than the timber of the tent, and the supporters +of the canvas. Mrs. Petulengro, and a female with a crutch in her +hand, whom I recognised as Mrs. Chikno, sat near him on the ground, +whilst two or three children, from six to ten years old, who +composed the young family of Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro, were playing +about. + +"Here we are, brother," said Mr. Petulengro, as he drove the sharp +end of the bar into the ground; "here we are, and plenty of us-- +Bute dosta Romany chals." + +"I am glad to see you all," said I; "and particularly you, madam," +said I, making a bow to Mrs. Petulengro; "and you also, madam," +taking off my hat to Mrs. Chikno. + +"Good-day to you, sir," said Mrs. Petulengro; "you look, as usual, +charmingly, and speak so, too; you have not forgot your manners." + +"It is not all gold that glitters," said Mrs. Chikno. "However, +good-morrow to you, young rye." + +"I do not see Tawno," said I, looking around; "where is he?" + +"Where, indeed!" said Mrs. Chikno; "I don't know; he who +countenances him in the roving line can best answer." + +"He will be here anon," said Mr. Petulengro; "he has merely ridden +down a by-road to show a farmer a two-year-old colt; she heard me +give him directions, but she can't be satisfied." + +"I can't indeed," said Mrs. Chikno. + +"And why not, sister?" + +"Because I place no confidence in your words, brother; as I said +before, you countenances him." + +"Well," said I, "I know nothing of your private concerns; I am come +on an errand. Isopel Berners, down in the dell there, requests the +pleasure of Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro's company at breakfast. She +will be happy also to see you, madam," said I, addressing Mrs. +Chikno. + +"Is that young female your wife, young man?" said Mrs. Chikno. + +"My wife?" said I. + +"Yes, young man; your wife, your lawful certificated wife?" + +"No," said I; "she is not my wife." + +"Then I will not visit with her," said Mrs. Chikno; "I countenance +nothing in the roving line." + +"What do you mean by the roving line?" I demanded. + +"What do I mean by the roving line? Why, by it I mean such conduct +as is not tatcheno. When ryes and rawnies live together in +dingles, without being certificated, I call such behaviour being +tolerably deep in the roving line, everything savouring of which I +am determined not to sanctify. I have suffered too much by my own +certificated husband's outbreaks in that line to afford anything of +the kind the slightest shadow of countenance." + +"It is hard that people may not live in dingles together without +being suspected of doing wrong," said I. + +"So it is," said Mrs. Petulengro, interposing; "and, to tell you +the truth, I am altogether surprised at the illiberality of my +sister's remarks. I have often heard say, that it is in good +company--and I have kept good company in my time--that suspicion is +king's evidence of a narrow and uncultivated mind; on which account +I am suspicious of nobody, not even of my own husband, whom some +people would think I have a right to be suspicious of, seeing that +on his account I once refused a lord; but ask him whether I am +suspicious of him, and whether I seek to keep him close tied to my +apron-string; he will tell you nothing of the kind; but that, on +the contrary, I always allows him an agreeable latitude, permitting +him to go where he pleases, and to converse with any one to whose +manner of speaking he may take a fancy. But I have had the +advantage of keeping good company, and therefore--" + +"Meklis," said Mrs. Chikno, "pray drop all that, sister; I believe +I have kept as good company as yourself; and with respect to that +offer with which you frequently fatigue those who keeps company +with you, I believe, after all, it was something in the roving and +uncertificated line." + +"In whatever line it was," said Mrs. Petulengro, "the offer was a +good one. The young duke--for he was not only a lord, but a duke +too--offered to keep me a fine carriage, and to make me his second +wife; for it is true that he had another who was old and stout, +though mighty rich, and highly good-natured; so much so, indeed, +that the young lord assured me that she would have no manner of +objection to the arrangement; more especially if I would consent to +live in the same house with her, being fond of young and cheerful +society. So you see--" + +"Yes, yes," said Mrs. Chikno, "I see, what I before thought, that +it was altogether in the uncertificated line." + +"Meklis," said Mrs. Petulengro; "I use your own word, madam, which +is Romany: for my own part, I am not fond of using Romany words, +unless I can hope to pass them off for French, which I cannot in +the present company. I heartily wish that there was no such +language, and do my best to keep it away from my children, lest the +frequent use of it should altogether confirm them in low and vulgar +habits. I have four children, madam, but--" + +"I suppose by talking of your four children you wish to check me +for having none," said Mrs. Chikno, bursting into tears; "if I have +no children, sister, it is no fault of mine, it is--but why do I +call you sister?" said she, angrily; "you are no sister of mine, +you are a grasni, a regular mare--a pretty sister, indeed, ashamed +of your own language. I remember well that by your high-flying +notions you drove your own mother--" + +"We will drop it," said Mrs. Petulengro; "I do not wish to raise my +voice, and to make myself ridiculous. Young gentleman," said she, +"pray present my compliments to Miss Isopel Berners, and inform her +that I am very sorry that I cannot accept her polite invitation. I +am just arrived, and have some slight domestic matters to see to-- +amongst others, to wash my children's faces; but that in the course +of the forenoon, when I have attended to what I have to do, and +have dressed myself, I hope to do myself the honour of paying her a +regular visit; you will tell her that, with my compliments. With +respect to my husband he can answer for himself, as I, not being of +a jealous disposition, never interferes with his matters." + +"And tell Miss Berners," said Mr. Petulengro, "that I shall be +happy to wait upon her in company with my wife as soon as we are +regularly settled: at present I have much on my hands, having not +only to pitch my own tent, but this here jealous woman's, whose +husband is absent on my business." + +Thereupon I returned to the dingle, and, without saying anything +about Mrs. Chikno's observations, communicated to Isopel the +messages of Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro; Isopel made no other reply +than by replacing in her coffer two additional cups and saucers, +which, in expectation of company, she had placed upon the board. +The kettle was by this time boiling. We sat down, and, as we +breakfasted, I gave Isopel Berners another lesson in the Armenian +language. + + + +CHAPTER VI + + + +The Promised Visit--Roman Fashion--Wizard and Witch--Catching at +Words--The Two Females--Dressing of Hair--The New Roads--Belle's +Altered Appearance--Herself Again. + + +About mid-day Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro came to the dingle to pay the +promised visit. Belle, at the time of their arrival, was in her +tent, but I was at the fire-place, engaged in hammering part of the +outer-tire, or defence, which had come off from one of the wheels +of my vehicle. On perceiving them I forthwith went to receive +them. Mr. Petulengro was dressed in Roman fashion, with a somewhat +smartly-cut sporting-coat, the buttons of which were half-crowns-- +and a waistcoat, scarlet and black, the buttons of which were +spaded half-guineas; his breeches were of a stuff half velveteen, +half corduroy, the cords exceedingly broad. He had leggings of +buff cloth, furred at the bottom; and upon his feet were highlows. +Under his left arm was a long black whalebone riding-whip, with a +red lash, and an immense silver knob. Upon his head was a hat with +a high peak, somewhat of the kind which the Spaniards call calane, +so much in favour with the bravos of Seville and Madrid. Now, when +I have added that Mr. Petulengro had on a very fine white holland +shirt, I think I have described his array. Mrs. Petulengro--I beg +pardon for not having spoken of her first--was also arrayed very +much in the Roman fashion. Her hair, which was exceedingly black +and lustrous, fell in braids on either side of her head. In her +ears were rings, with long drops of gold. Round her neck was a +string of what seemed very much like very large pearls, somewhat +tarnished, however, and apparently of considerable antiquity. +"Here we are, brother," said Mr. Petulengro; "here we are, come to +see you--wizard and witch, witch and wizard:- + + +"'There's a chovahanee, and a chovahano, +The nav se len is Petulengro.'" + + +"Hold your tongue, sir," said Mrs. Petulengro; "you make me ashamed +of you with your vulgar ditties. We are come a visiting now, and +everything low should be left behind." + +"True," said Mr. Petulengro; "why bring what's low to the dingle, +which is low enough already?" + +"What, are you a catcher at words?" said I. "I thought that +catching at words had been confined to the pothouse farmers and +village witty bodies." + +"All fools," said Mrs. Petulengro, "catch at words, and very +naturally, as by so doing they hope to prevent the possibility of +rational conversation. Catching at words confined to pothouse +farmers, and village witty bodies! No, not to Jasper Petulengro. +Listen for an hour or two to the discourse of a set they call +newspaper editors, and if you don't go out and eat grass, as a dog +does when he is sick, I am no female woman. The young lord whose +hand I refused when I took up with wise Jasper, once brought two of +them to my mother's tan, when hankering after my company; they did +nothing but carp at each other's words, and a pretty hand they made +of it. Ill-favoured dogs they were; and their attempts at what +they called wit almost as unfortunate as their countenances." + +"Well," said I, "madam, we will drop all catchings and carpings for +the present. Pray take your seat on this stool, whilst I go and +announce to Miss Isopel Berners your arrival." + +Thereupon I went to Belle's habitation, and informed her that Mr. +and Mrs. Petulengro had paid us a visit of ceremony, and were +awaiting her at the fire-place. "Pray go and tell them that I am +busy," said Belle, who was engaged with her needle. "I do not feel +disposed to take part in any such nonsense." "I shall do no such +thing," said I; "and I insist upon your coming forthwith, and +showing proper courtesy to your visitors. If you do not, their +feelings will be hurt, and you are aware that I cannot bear that +people's feelings should be outraged. Come this moment, or--" "Or +what?" said Belle, half smiling. "I was about to say something in +Armenian," said I. "Well," said Belle, laying down her work, "I +will come." "Stay," said I; "your hair is hanging about your ears, +and your dress is in disorder; you had better stay a minute or two +to prepare yourself to appear before your visitors, who have come +in their very best attire." "No," said Belle, "I will make no +alteration in my appearance; you told me to come this moment, and +you shall be obeyed." So Belle and I advanced towards our guests. +As we drew nigh Mr. Petulengro took off his hat, and made a +profound obeisance to Belle, whilst Mrs. Petulengro rose from the +stool, and made a profound curtsey. Belle, who had flung her hair +back over her shoulders, returned their salutations by bending her +head, and after slightly glancing at Mr. Petulengro, fixed her +large blue eyes full upon his wife. Both these females were very +handsome--but how unlike! Belle fair, with blue eyes and flaxen +hair; Mrs. Petulengro with olive complexion, eyes black, and hair +dark--as dark as could be. Belle, in demeanour calm and proud; the +gypsy graceful, but full of movement and agitation. And then how +different were those two in stature! The head of the Romany rawnie +scarcely ascended to the breast of Isopel Berners. I could see +that Mrs. Petulengro gazed on Belle with unmixed admiration; so did +her husband. "Well," said the latter, "one thing I will say, which +is, that there is only one on earth worthy to stand up in front of +this she, and that is the beauty of the world, as far as man flesh +is concerned, Tawno Chikno; what a pity he did not come down!" + +"Tawno Chikno," said Mrs. Petulengro, flaring up; "a pretty fellow +he to stand up in front of this gentlewoman, a pity he didn't come, +quotha? not at all, the fellow is a sneak, afraid of his wife. He +stand up against this rawnie! why, the look she has given me would +knock the fellow down." + +"It is easier to knock him down with a look than with a fist," said +Mr. Petulengro; "that is, if the look comes from a woman: not that +I am disposed to doubt that this female gentlewoman is able to +knock him down either one way or the other. I have heard of her +often enough, and have seen her once or twice, though not so near +as now. Well, ma'am, my wife and I are come to pay our respects to +you; we are both glad to find that you have left off keeping +company with Flaming Bosville, and have taken up with my pal; he is +not very handsome, but a better--" + +"I take up with your pal, as you call him! you had better mind what +you say," said Isopel Berners, "I take up with nobody." + +"I merely mean taking up your quarters with him," said Mr. +Petulengro; "and I was only about to say a better fellow-lodger you +cannot have, or a more instructive, especially if you have a desire +to be inoculated with tongues, as he calls them. I wonder whether +you and he have had any tongue-work already." + +"Have you and your wife anything particular to say? if you have +nothing but this kind of conversation I must leave you, as I am +going to make a journey this afternoon, and should be getting +ready." + +"You must excuse my husband, madam," said Mrs. Petulengro, "he is +not overburdened with understanding, and has said but one word of +sense since he has been here, which was that we came to pay our +respects to you. We have dressed ourselves in our best Roman way, +in order to do honour to you; perhaps you do not like it; if so, I +am sorry. I have no French clothes, madam; if I had any, madam, I +would have come in them, in order to do you more honour." + +"I like to see you much better as you are," said Belle; "people +should keep to their own fashions, and yours is very pretty." + +"I am glad you are pleased to think it so, madam; it has been +admired in the great city; it created what they call a sensation; +and some of the great ladies, the court ladies, imitated it, else I +should not appear in it so often as I am accustomed; for I am not +very fond of what is Roman, having an imagination that what is +Roman is ungenteel; in fact, I once heard the wife of a rich +citizen say that gypsies were vulgar creatures. I should have +taken her saying very much to heart, but for her improper +pronunciation; she could not pronounce her words, madam, which we +gypsies, as they call us, usually can, so I thought she was no very +high purchase. You are very beautiful, madam, though you are not +dressed as I could wish to see you, and your hair is hanging down +in sad confusion; allow me to assist you in arranging your hair, +madam; I will dress it for you in our fashion; I would fain see how +your hair would look in our poor gypsy fashion; pray allow me, +madam?" and she took Belle by the hand. + +"I really can do no such thing," said Belle, withdrawing her hand; +"I thank you for coming to see me, but--" + +"Do allow me to officiate upon your hair, madam," said Mrs. +Petulengro. "I should esteem your allowing me a great mark of +condescension. You are very beautiful, madam, and I think you +doubly so, because you are so fair; I have a great esteem for +persons with fair complexions and hair; I have a less regard for +people with dark hair and complexions, madam." + +"Then why did you turn off the lord, and take up with me?" said Mr. +Petulengro; "that same lord was fair enough all about him." + +"People do when they are young and silly what they sometimes repent +of when they are of riper years and understandings. I sometimes +think that had I not been something of a simpleton, I might at this +time be a great court lady. Now, madam," said she, again taking +Belle by the hand, "do oblige me by allowing me to plait your hair +a little?" + +"I have really a good mind to be angry with you," said Belle, +giving Mrs. Petulengro a peculiar glance. + +"Do allow her to arrange your hair," said I; "she means no harm, +and wishes to do you honour; do oblige her and me too, for I should +like to see how your hair would look dressed in her fashion." + +"You hear what the young rye says?" said Mrs. Petulengro. "I am +sure you will oblige the young rye, if not myself. Many people +would be willing to oblige the young rye, if he would but ask them; +but he is not in the habit of asking favours. He has a nose of his +own, which he keeps tolerably exalted; he does not think small-beer +of himself, madam; and all the time I have been with him, I never +heard him ask a favour before; therefore, madam, I am sure you will +oblige him. My sister Ursula would be very willing to oblige him +in many things, but he will not ask for anything, except for such a +favour as a word, which is a poor favour after all. I don't mean +for her word; perhaps he will some day ask you for your word. If +so--" + +"Why, here you are, after railing at me for catching at words, +catching at a word yourself," said Mr. Petulengro. + +"Hold your tongue, sir," said Mrs. Petulengro. "Don't interrupt me +in my discourse; if I caught at a word now, I am not in the habit +of doing so. I am no conceited body; no newspaper Neddy; no +pothouse witty person. I was about to say, madam, that if the +young rye asks you at any time for your word, you will do as you +deem convenient; but I am sure you will oblige him by allowing me +to braid your hair." + +"I shall not do it to oblige him," said Belle; "the young rye, as +you call him, is nothing to me." + +"Well, then, to oblige me," said Mrs. Petulengro; "do allow me to +become your poor tire-woman." + +"It is great nonsense," said Belle, reddening; "however, as you +came to see me, and ask the matter as a particular favour to +yourself--" + +"Thank you, madam," said Mrs. Petulengro, leading Belle to the +stool; "please to sit down here. Thank you; your hair is very +beautiful, madam," she continued, as she proceeded to braid Belle's +hair; "so is your countenance. Should you ever go to the great +city, among the grand folks, you would make a sensation, madam. I +have made one myself, who am dark; the chi she is kauley, which +last word signifies black, which I am not, though rather dark. +There is no colour like white, madam; it's so lasting, so genteel. +Gentility will carry the day, madam, even with the young rye. He +will ask words of the black lass, but beg the word of the fair." + +In the meantime Mr. Petulengro and myself entered into +conversation. "Any news stirring, Mr. Petulengro?" said I. "Have +you heard anything of the great religious movements?" + +"Plenty," said Mr. Petulengro; "all the religious people, more +especially the Evangelicals--those that go about distributing +tracts--are very angry about the fight between Gentleman Cooper and +White-headed Bob, which they say ought not to have been permitted +to take place; and then they are trying all they can to prevent the +fight between the lion and the dogs, which they say is a disgrace +to a Christian country. Now I can't say that I have any quarrel +with the religious party and the Evangelicals; they are always +civil to me and mine, and frequently give us tracts, as they call +them, which neither I nor mine can read; but I cannot say that I +approve of any movements, religious or not, which have in aim to +put down all life and manly sport in this here country." + +"Anything else?" said I. + +"People are becoming vastly sharp," said Mr. Petulengro; "and I am +told that all the old-fashioned good-tempered constables are going +to be set aside, and a paid body of men to be established, who are +not to permit a tramper or vagabond on the roads of England;--and +talking of roads, puts me in mind of a strange story I heard two +nights ago, whilst drinking some beer at a public-house in company +with my cousin Sylvester. I had asked Tawno to go, but his wife +would not let him. Just opposite me, smoking their pipes, were a +couple of men, something like engineers, and they were talking of a +wonderful invention which was to make a wonderful alteration in +England; inasmuch as it would set aside all the old roads, which in +a little time would be ploughed up, and sowed with corn, and cause +all England to be laid down with iron roads, on which people would +go thundering along in vehicles, pushed forward by fire and smoke. +Now, brother, when I heard this, I did not feel very comfortable; +for I thought to myself, what a queer place such a road would be to +pitch one's tent upon, and how impossible it would be for one's +cattle to find a bite of grass upon it; and I thought likewise of +the danger to which one's family would be exposed in being run over +and severely scorched by these same flying fiery vehicles; so I +made bold to say, that I hoped such an invention would never be +countenanced, because it was likely to do a great deal of harm. +Whereupon, one of the men, giving me a glance, said, without taking +the pipe out of his mouth, that for his part, he sincerely hoped +that it would take effect; and if it did no other good than +stopping the rambles of gypsies, and other like scamps, it ought to +be encouraged. Well, brother, feeling myself insulted, I put my +hand into my pocket, in order to pull out money, intending to +challenge him to fight for a five-shilling stake, but merely found +sixpence, having left all my other money at the tent; which +sixpence was just sufficient to pay for the beer which Sylvester +and myself were drinking, of whom I couldn't hope to borrow +anything--'poor as Sylvester' being a by-word amongst us. So, not +being able to back myself, I held my peace, and let the Gorgio have +it all his own way, who, after turning up his nose at me, went on +discoursing about the said invention, saying what a fund of profit +it would be to those who knew how to make use of it, and should +have the laying down of the new roads, and the shoeing of England +with iron. And after he had said this, and much more of the same +kind, which I cannot remember, he and his companion got up and +walked away; and presently I and Sylvester got up and walked to our +camp; and there I lay down in my tent by the side of my wife, where +I had an ugly dream of having camped upon an iron road; my tent +being overturned by a flying vehicle; my wife's leg injured; and +all my affairs put into great confusion." + +"Now, madam," said Mrs. Petulengro, "I have braided your hair in +our fashion: you look very beautiful, madam; more beautiful, if +possible, than before." Belle now rose, and came forward with her +tire-woman. Mr. Petulengro was loud in his applause, but I said +nothing, for I did not think Belle was improved in appearance by +having submitted to the ministry of Mrs. Petulengro's hand. Nature +never intended Belle to appear as a gypsy; she had made her too +proud and serious. A more proper part for her was that of a +heroine, a queenly heroine,--that of Theresa of Hungary, for +example; or, better still, that of Brynhilda the Valkyrie, the +beloved of Sigurd, the serpent-killer, who incurred the curse of +Odin, because, in the tumult of spears, she sided with the young +king, and doomed the old warrior to die, to whom Odin had promised +victory. + +Belle looked at me for a moment in silence; then turning to Mrs. +Petulengro, she said, "You have had your will with me; are you +satisfied?" "Quite so, madam," said Mrs. Petulengro, "and I hope +you will be so too, as soon as you have looked in the glass." "I +have looked in one already," said Belle; "and the glass does not +flatter." "You mean the face of the young rye," said Mrs. +Petulengro; "never mind him, madam; the young rye, though he knows +a thing or two, is not a university, nor a person of universal +wisdom. I assure you, that you never looked so well before; and I +hope that, from this moment, you will wear your hair in this way." +"And who is to braid it in this way?" said Belle, smiling. "I, +madam," said Mrs. Petulengro; "I will braid it for you every +morning, if you will but be persuaded to join us. Do so, madam, +and I think, if you did, the young rye would do so too." "The +young rye is nothing to me, nor I to him," said Belle; "we have +stayed some time together; but our paths will soon be apart. Now, +farewell, for I am about to take a journey." "And you will go out +with your hair as I have braided it," said Mrs. Petulengro; "if you +do, everybody will be in love with you." "No," said Belle; +"hitherto I have allowed you to do what you please, but henceforth +I shall have my own way. Come, come," said she, observing that the +gypsy was about to speak, "we have had enough of nonsense; whenever +I leave this hollow, it will be wearing my hair in my own fashion." +"Come, wife," said Mr. Petulengro; "we will no longer intrude upon +the rye and rawnie; there is such a thing as being troublesome." +Thereupon Mr. Petulengro and his wife took their leave, with many +salutations. "Then you are going?" said I, when Belle and I were +left alone. "Yes," said Belle; "I am going on a journey; my +affairs compel me." "But you will return again?" said I. "Yes," +said Belle, "I shall return once more." "Once more," said I; "what +do you mean by once more? The Petulengros will soon be gone, and +will you abandon me in this place?" "You were alone here," said +Belle, "before I came, and I suppose, found it agreeable, or you +would not have stayed in it." "Yes," said I, "that was before I +knew you; but having lived with you here, I should be very loth to +live here without you." "Indeed," said Belle; "I did not know that +I was of so much consequence to you. Well, the day is wearing +away--I must go and harness Traveller to the cart." "I will do +that," said I, "or anything else you may wish me. Go and prepare +yourself; I will see after Traveller and the cart." Belle departed +to her tent, and I set about performing the task I had undertaken. +In about half-an-hour Belle again made her appearance--she was +dressed neatly and plainly. Her hair was no longer in the Roman +fashion, in which Pakomovna had plaited it, but was secured by a +comb; she held a bonnet in her hand. "Is there anything else I can +do for you?" I demanded. "There are two or three bundles by my +tent, which you can put into the cart," said Belle. I put the +bundles into the cart, and then led Traveller and the cart up the +winding path to the mouth of the dingle, near which was Mr. +Petulengro's encampment. Belle followed. At the top, I delivered +the reins into her hands; we looked at each other stedfastly for +some time. Belle then departed, and I returned to the dingle, +where, seating myself on my stone, I remained for upwards of an +hour in thought. + + + +CHAPTER VII + + + +The Festival--The Gypsy Song--Piramus of Rome--The Scotchman--Gypsy +Names. + + +On the following day there was much feasting amongst the Romany +chals of Mr. Petulengro's party. Throughout the forenoon the +Romany chies did scarcely anything but cook flesh, and the flesh +which they cooked was swine's flesh. About two o'clock, the chals +dividing themselves into various parties, sat down and partook of +the fare, which was partly roasted, partly sodden. I dined that +day with Mr. Petulengro and his wife and family, Ursula, Mr. and +Mrs. Chikno, and Sylvester and his two children. Sylvester, it +will be as well to say, was a widower, and had consequently no one +to cook his victuals for him, supposing he had any, which was not +always the case, Sylvester's affairs being seldom in a prosperous +state. He was noted for his bad success in trafficking, +notwithstanding the many hints which he received from Jasper, under +whose protection he had placed himself, even as Tawno Chikno had +done, who himself, as the reader has heard on a former occasion, +was anything but a wealthy subject, though he was at all times +better off than Sylvester, the Lazarus of the Romany tribe. + +All our party ate with a good appetite, except myself, who, feeling +rather melancholy that day, had little desire to eat. I did not, +like the others, partake of the pork, but got my dinner entirely +off the body of a squirrel which had been shot the day before by a +chal of the name of Piramus, who, besides being a good shot, was +celebrated for his skill in playing on the fiddle. During the +dinner a horn filled with ale passed frequently around; I drank of +it more than once, and felt inspirited by the draughts. The repast +concluded, Sylvester and his children departed to their tent, and +Mr. Petulengro, Tawno, and myself, getting up, went and lay down +under a shady hedge, where Mr. Petulengro, lighting his pipe, began +to smoke, and where Tawno presently fell asleep. I was about to +fall asleep also, when I heard the sound of music and song. +Piramus was playing on the fiddle, whilst Mrs. Chikno, who had a +voice of her own, was singing in tones sharp enough, but of great +power, a gypsy song:- + + +POISONING THE PORKER +BY MRS. CHIKNO + + +To mande shoon ye Romany chals +Who besh in the pus about the yag, +I'll pen how we drab the baulo, +I'll pen how we drab the baulo. + +We jaws to the drab-engro ker, +Trin horsworth there of drab we lels, +And when to the swety back we wels +We pens we'll drab the baulo, +We'll have a drab at a baulo. + +And then we kairs the drab opre, +And then we jaws to the farming ker, +To mang a beti habben, +A beti poggado habben. + +A rinkeno baulo there we dick, +And then we pens in Romano jib; +Wust lis odoi opre ye chick, +And the baulo he will lel lis, +The baulo he will lel lis. + +Coliko, coliko saulo we +Apopli to the farming ker +Will wel and mang him mullo, +Will wel and mang his truppo. + +And so we kairs, and so we kairs; +The baulo in the rarde mers; +We mang him on the saulo, +And rig to the tan the baulo. + +And then we toves the wendror well +Till sore the wendror iuziou se, +Till kekkeno drab's adrey lis, +Till drab there's kek adrey lis. + +And then his truppo well we hatch, +Kin levinor at the kitchema, +And have a kosko habben, +A kosko Romano habben. + +The boshom engro kils, he kils, +The tawnie juva gils, she gils +A puro Romano gillie, +Now shoon the Romano gillie. + + +Which song I had translated in the following manner, in my younger +days, for a lady's album: + + +Listen to me ye Romanlads, who are seated in the straw about the +fire, and I will tell how we poison the porker, I will tell how we +poison the porker. + +We go to the house of the poison-monger, where we buy three +pennies' worth of bane, and when we return to our people we say, we +will poison the porker; we will try and poison the porker. + +We then make up the poison, and then we take our way to the house +of the farmer, as if to beg a bit of victuals, a little broken +victuals. + +We see a jolly porker, and then we say in Roman language, "Fling +the bane yonder amongst the dirt, and the porker soon will find it, +the porker soon will find it." + +Early on the morrow, we will return to the farm-house, and beg the +dead porker, the body of the dead porker. + +And so we do, even so we do; the porker dieth during the night; on +the morrow we beg the porker, and carry to the tent the porker. + +And then we wash the inside well, till all the inside is perfectly +clean, till there's no bane within it, not a poison grain within +it. + +And then we roast the body well, send for ale to the alehouse, and +have a merry banquet, a merry Roman banquet. + +The fellow with the fiddle plays, he plays; the little lassie +sings, she sings an ancient Roman ditty; now hear the Roman ditty. + + +SONG OF THE BROKEN CHASTITY +BY URSULA + + +Penn'd the Romany chi ke laki dye +"Miry dearie dye mi shom cambri!" +"And coin kerdo tute cambri, +Miry dearie chi, miry Romany chi?" +"O miry dye a boro rye, +A bovalo rye, a gorgiko rye, +Sos kistur pre a pellengo grye, +'Twas yov sos kerdo man cambri." +"Tu tawnie vassavie lubbeny, +Tu chal from miry tan abri; +Had a Romany cwal kair'd tute cambri, +Then I had penn'd ke tute chie, +But tu shan a vassavie lubbeny +With gorgikie rat to be cambri." + + +"There's some kernel in those songs, brother," said Mr. Petulengro, +when the songs and music were over. + +"Yes," said I; "they are certainly very remarkable songs. I say, +Jasper, I hope you have not been drabbing baulor lately." + +"And suppose we have, brother, what then?" + +"Why, it is a very dangerous practice, to say nothing of the +wickedness of it." + +"Necessity has no law, brother." + +"That is true," said I; "I have always said so, but you are not +necessitous, and should not drab baulor." + +"And who told you we had been drabbing baulor?" + +"Why, you have had a banquet of pork, and after the banquet, Mrs. +Chikno sang a song about drabbing baulor, so I naturally thought +you might have lately been engaged in such a thing." + +"Brother, you occasionally utter a word or two of common sense. It +was natural for you to suppose, after seeing that dinner of pork, +and hearing that song, that we had been drabbing baulor; I will now +tell you that we have not been doing so. What have you to say to +that?" + +"That I am very glad of it." + +"Had you tasted that pork, brother, you would have found that it +was sweet and tasty, which balluva that is drabbed can hardly be +expected to be. We have no reason to drab baulor at present, we +have money and credit; but necessity has no law. Our forefathers +occasionally drabbed baulor; some of our people may still do such a +thing, but only from compulsion." + +"I see," said I; "and at your merry meetings you sing songs upon +the compulsatory deeds of your people, alias, their villainous +actions; and, after all, what would the stirring poetry of any +nation be, but for its compulsatory deeds? Look at the poetry of +Scotland, the heroic part, founded almost entirely on the +villainous deeds of the Scotch nation; cow-stealing, for example, +which is very little better than drabbing baulor; whilst the softer +part is mostly about the slips of its females among the broom, so +that no upholder of Scotch poetry could censure Ursula's song as +indelicate, even if he understood it. What do you think, Jasper?" + +"I think, brother, as I before said, that occasionally you utter a +word of common sense; you were talking of the Scotch, brother; what +do you think of a Scotchman finding fault with Romany!" + +"A Scotchman finding fault with Romany, Jasper! Oh dear, but you +joke, the thing could never be." + +"Yes, and at Piramus's fiddle; what do you think of a Scotchman +turning up his nose at Piramus's fiddle?" + +"A Scotchman turning up his nose at Piramus's fiddle! nonsense, +Jasper." + +"Do you know what I most dislike, brother?" + +"I do not, unless it be the constable, Jasper." + +"It is not the constable; it's a beggar on horseback, brother." + +"What do you mean by a beggar on horseback?" + +"Why, a scamp, brother, raised above his proper place, who takes +every opportunity of giving himself fine airs. About a week ago, +my people and myself camped on a green by a plantation in the +neighbourhood of a great house. In the evening we were making +merry, the girls were dancing, while Piramus was playing on the +fiddle a tune of his own composing, to which he has given his own +name, Piramus of Rome, and which is much celebrated amongst our +people, and from which I have been told that one of the grand +gorgio composers, who once heard it, has taken several hints. So, +as we were making merry, a great many grand people, lords and +ladies, I believe, came from the great house, and looked on, as the +girls danced to the tune of Piramus of Rome, and seemed much +pleased; and when the girls had left off dancing, and Piramus +playing, the ladies wanted to have their fortunes told; so I bade +Mikailia Chikno, who can tell a fortune when she pleases better +than any one else, tell them a fortune, and she, being in a good +mind, told them a fortune which pleased them very much. So, after +they had heard their fortunes, one of them asked if any of our +women could sing; and I told them several could, more particularly +Leviathan--you know Leviathan, she is not here now, but some miles +distant, she is our best singer, Ursula coming next. So the lady +said she should like to hear Leviathan sing, whereupon Leviathan +sang the Gudlo pesham, and Piramus played the tune of the same +name, which as you know, means the honeycomb, the song and the tune +being well entitled to the name, being wonderfully sweet. Well, +everybody present seemed mighty well pleased with the song and +music, with the exception of one person, a carroty-haired Scotch +body; how he came there I don't know, but there he was; and, coming +forward, he began in Scotch as broad as a barn-door to find fault +with the music and the song, saying, that he had never heard viler +stuff than either. Well, brother, out of consideration for the +civil gentry with whom the fellow had come, I held my peace for a +long time, and in order to get the subject changed, I said to +Mikailia in Romany, You have told the ladies their fortunes, now +tell the gentlemen theirs, quick, quick,--pen lende dukkerin. +Well, brother, the Scotchman, I suppose, thinking I was speaking +ill of him, fell into a greater passion than before, and catching +hold of the word dukkerin--'Dukkerin,' said he, 'what's dukkerin?' +'Dukkerin,' said I, 'is fortune, a man or woman's destiny; don't +you like the word?' 'Word! d'ye ca' that a word? a bonnie word,' +said he. 'Perhaps, you'll tell us what it is in Scotch,' said I, +'in order that we may improve our language by a Scotch word; a pal +of mine has told me that we have taken a great many words from +foreign lingos.' 'Why, then, if that be the case, fellow, I will +tell you; it is e'en "spaeing,"' said he, very seriously. 'Well, +then,' said I, 'I'll keep my own word, which is much the prettiest- +-spaeing! spaeing! why, I should be ashamed to make use of the +word, it sounds so much like a certain other word;' and then I made +a face as if I were unwell. 'Perhaps it's Scotch also for that?' +'What do ye mean by speaking in that guise to a gentleman?' said +he; 'you insolent vagabond, without a name or a country.' 'There +you are mistaken,' said I; 'my country is Egypt, but we 'Gyptians, +like you Scotch, are rather fond of travelling; and as for name--my +name is Jasper Petulengro, perhaps you have a better; what is it?' +'Sandy Macraw.' At that, brother, the gentlemen burst into a roar +of laughter, and all the ladies tittered." + +"You were rather severe on the Scotchman, Jasper." + +"Not at all, brother, and suppose I were, he began first; I am the +civilest man in the world, and never interfere with anybody, who +lets me and mine alone. He finds fault with Romany, forsooth! why, +L-d A'mighty, what's Scotch? He doesn't like our songs; what are +his own? I understand them as little as he mine; I have heard one +or two of them, and pretty rubbish they seemed. But the best of +the joke is, the fellow's finding fault with Piramus's fiddle--a +chap from the land of bagpipes finding fault with Piramus's fiddle! +Why, I'll back that fiddle against all the bagpipes in Scotland, +and Piramus against all the bagpipers; for though Piramus weighs +but ten stone, he shall flog a Scotchman of twenty." + +"Scotchmen are never so fat as that," said I, "unless indeed, they +have been a long time pensioners of England. I say, Jasper, what +remarkable names your people have!" + +"And what pretty names, brother; there's my own, for example, +Jasper; then there's Ambrose and Sylvester; then there's Culvato, +which signifies Claude; then there's Piramus--that's a nice name, +brother." + +"Then there's your wife's name, Pakomovna; then there's Ursula and +Morella." + +"Then, brother, there's Ercilla." + +"Ercilla! the name of the great poet of Spain, how wonderful; then +Leviathan." + +"The name of a ship, brother; Leviathan was named after a ship, so +don't make a wonder out of her. But there's Sanpriel and Synfye." + +"Ay, and Clementina and Lavinia, Camillia and Lydia, Curlanda and +Orlanda; wherever did they get those names?" + +"Where did my wife get her necklace, brother?" + +"She knows best, Jasper. I hope--" + +"Come, no hoping! She got it from her grandmother, who died at the +age of a hundred and three, and sleeps in Coggeshall churchyard. +She got it from her mother, who also died very old, and who could +give no other account of it than that it had been in the family +time out of mind." + +"Whence could they have got it?" + +"Why, perhaps where they got their names, brother. A gentleman, +who had travelled much, once told me that he had seen the sister of +it about the neck of an Indian queen." + +"Some of your names, Jasper, appear to be church names; your own, +for example, and Ambrose, and Sylvester; perhaps you got them from +the Papists, in the times of Popery; but where did you get such a +name as Piramus, a name of Grecian romance? Then some of them +appear to be Slavonian; for example, Mikailia and Pakomovna. I +don't know much of Slavonian; but--" + +"What is Slavonian, brother?" + +"The family name of certain nations, the principal of which is the +Russian, and from which the word slave is originally derived. You +have heard of the Russians, Jasper?" + +"Yes, brother; and seen some. I saw their crallis at the time of +the peace; he was not a bad-looking man for a Russian." + +"By the bye, Jasper, I'm half inclined to think that crallis is a +Slavish word. I saw something like it in a lil called 'Voltaire's +Life of Charles.' How you should have come by such names and words +is to me incomprehensible." + +"You seem posed, brother." + +"I really know very little about you, Jasper." + +"Very little indeed, brother. We know very little about ourselves; +and you know nothing, save what we have told you; and we have now +and then told you things about us which are not exactly true, +simply to make a fool of you, brother. You will say that was +wrong; perhaps it was. Well, Sunday will be here in a day or two, +when we will go to church, where possibly we shall hear a sermon on +the disastrous consequences of lying." + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + + +The Church--The Aristocratical Pew--Days of Yore--The Clergyman-- +"In What Would a Man be Profited?" + + +When two days had passed, Sunday came; I breakfasted by myself in +the solitary dingle; and then, having set things a little to +rights, I ascended to Mr. Petulengro's encampment. I could hear +church-bells ringing around in the distance, appearing to say, +"Come to church, come to church," as clearly as it was possible for +church-bells to say. I found Mr. Petulengro seated by the door of +his tent, smoking his pipe, in rather an ungenteel undress. "Well, +Jasper," said I, "are you ready to go to church? for if you are, I +am ready to accompany you." "I am not ready, brother," said Mr. +Petulengro, "nor is my wife; the church, too, to which we shall go +is three miles off; so it is of no use to think of going there this +morning, as the service would be three-quarters over before we got +there; if, however, you are disposed to go in the afternoon, we are +your people." Thereupon I returned to my dingle, where I passed +several hours in conning the Welsh Bible, which the preacher, Peter +Williams, had given me. + +At last I gave over reading, took a slight refreshment, and was +about to emerge from the dingle, when I heard the voice of Mr. +Petulengro calling me. I went up again to the encampment, where I +found Mr. Petulengro, his wife, and Tawno Chikno, ready to proceed +to church. Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro were dressed in Roman fashion, +though not in the full-blown manner in which they had paid their +visit to Isopel and myself. Tawno had on a clean white slop, with +a nearly new black beaver, with very broad rims, and the nap +exceedingly long. As for myself, I was dressed in much the same +manner as that in which I departed from London, having on, in +honour of the day, a shirt perfectly clean, having washed one on +purpose for the occasion, with my own hands, the day before, in the +pond of tepid water in which the newts and defts were in the habit +of taking their pleasure. We proceeded for upwards of a mile, by +footpaths through meadows and corn-fields; we crossed various +stiles; at last, passing over one, we found ourselves in a road, +wending along which for a considerable distance, we at last came in +sight of a church, the bells of which had been tolling distinctly +in our ears for some time; before, however, we reached the church- +yard, the bells had ceased their melody. It was surrounded by +lofty beech-trees of brilliant green foliage. We entered the gate, +Mrs. Petulengro leading the way, and proceeded to a small door near +the east end of the church. As we advanced, the sound of singing +within the church rose upon our ears. Arrived at the small door, +Mrs. Petulengro opened it and entered, followed by Tawno Chikno. I +myself went last of all, following Mr. Petulengro, who, before I +entered, turned round, and, with a significant nod, advised me to +take care how I behaved. The part of the church which we had +entered was the chancel; on one side stood a number of venerable +old men--probably the neighbouring poor--and on the other a number +of poor girls belonging to the village school, dressed in white +gowns and straw bonnets, whom two elegant but simply dressed young +women were superintending. Every voice seemed to be united in +singing a certain anthem, which, notwithstanding it was written +neither by Tate nor Brady, contains some of the sublimest words +which were ever put together, not the worst of which are those +which burst on our ears as we entered: + + +"Every eye shall now behold Him, +Robed in dreadful majesty; +Those who set at nought and sold Him, +Pierced and nailed Him to the tree, +Deeply wailing, +Shall the true Messiah see." + + +Still following Mrs. Petulengro, we proceeded down the chancel and +along the aisle; notwithstanding the singing, I could distinctly +hear as we passed many a voice whispering, "Here come the gypsies! +here come the gypsies!" I felt rather embarrassed, with a somewhat +awkward doubt as to where we were to sit; none of the occupiers of +the pews, who appeared to consist almost entirely of farmers, with +their wives, sons, and daughters, opened a door to admit us. Mrs. +Petulengro, however, appeared to feel not the least embarrassment, +but tripped along the aisle with the greatest nonchalance. We +passed under the pulpit, in which stood the clergyman in his white +surplice, and reached the middle of the church, where we were +confronted by the sexton dressed in long blue coat, and holding in +his hand a wand. This functionary motioned towards the lower end +of the church, where were certain benches, partly occupied by poor +people and boys. Mrs. Petulengro, however, with a toss of her +head, directed her course to a magnificent pew, which was +unoccupied, which she opened and entered, followed closely by Tawno +Chikno, Mr. Petulengro, and myself. The sexton did not appear by +any means to approve of the arrangement, and as I stood next the +door, laid his finger on my arm, as if to intimate that myself and +companions must quit our aristocratical location. I said nothing, +but directed my eyes to the clergyman, who uttered a short and +expressive cough; the sexton looked at him for a moment, and then, +bowing his head, closed the door--in a moment more the music +ceased. I took up a prayer-book, on which was engraved an earl's +coronet. The clergyman uttered, "I will arise, and go to my +father." England's sublime liturgy had commenced. + +Oh, what feelings came over me on finding myself again in an +edifice devoted to the religion of my country! I had not been in +such a place I cannot tell for how long--certainly not for years; +and now I had found my way there again, it appeared as if I had +fallen asleep in the pew of the old church of pretty D---. I had +occasionally done so when a child, and had suddenly woke up. Yes, +surely I had been asleep and had woke up; but no! alas, no! I had +not been asleep--at least not in the old church--if I had been +asleep I had been walking in my sleep, struggling, striving, +learning, and unlearning in my sleep. Years had rolled away whilst +I had been asleep--ripe fruit had fallen, green fruit had come on +whilst I had been asleep--how circumstances had altered, and above +all myself, whilst I had been asleep. No, I had not been asleep in +the old church! I was in a pew, it is true, but not the pew of +black leather, in which I sometimes fell asleep in days of yore, +but in a strange pew; and then my companions, they were no longer +those of days of yore. I was no longer with my respectable father +and mother, and my dear brother, but with the gypsy cral and his +wife, and the gigantic Tawno, the Antinous of the dusky people. +And what was I myself? No longer an innocent child, but a moody +man, bearing in my face, as I knew well, the marks of my strivings +and strugglings, of what I had learnt and unlearnt; nevertheless, +the general aspect of things brought to my mind what I had felt and +seen of yore. There was difference enough, it is true, but still +there was a similarity--at least I thought so--the church, the +clergyman, and the clerk, differing in many respects from those of +pretty D---, put me strangely in mind of them; and then the words!- +-by the bye, was it not the magic of the words which brought the +dear enchanting past so powerfully before the mind of Lavengro? for +the words were the same sonorous words of high import which had +first made an impression on his childish ear in the old church of +pretty D---. + +The liturgy was now over, during the reading of which my companions +behaved in a most unexceptionable manner, sitting down and rising +up when other people sat down and rose, and holding in their hands +prayer-books which they found in the pew, into which they stared +intently, though I observed that, with the exception of Mrs. +Petulengro, who knew how to read a little, they held the books by +the top, and not the bottom, as is the usual way. The clergyman +now ascended the pulpit, arrayed in his black gown. The +congregation composed themselves to attention, as did also my +companions, who fixed their eyes upon the clergyman with a certain +strange immovable stare, which I believe to be peculiar to their +race. The clergyman gave out his text, and began to preach. He +was a tall, gentlemanly man, seemingly between fifty and sixty, +with greyish hair; his features were very handsome, but with a +somewhat melancholy cast: the tones of his voice were rich and +noble, but also with somewhat of melancholy in them. The text +which he gave out was the following one, "In what would a man be +profited, provided he gained the whole world, and lost his own +soul?" + +And on this text the clergyman preached long and well: he did not +read his sermon, but spoke it extempore; his doing so rather +surprised and offended me at first; I was not used to such a style +of preaching in a church devoted to the religion of my country. I +compared it within my mind with the style of preaching used by the +high-church rector in the old church of pretty D---, and I thought +to myself it was very different, and being very different I did not +like it, and I thought to myself how scandalized the people of D--- +would have been had they heard it, and I figured to myself how +indignant the high-church clerk would have been had any clergyman +got up in the church of D--- and preached in such a manner. Did it +not savour strongly of dissent, methodism, and similar low stuff? +Surely it did; why, the Methodist I had heard preach on the heath +above the old city, preached in the same manner--at least he +preached extempore; ay, and something like the present clergyman; +for the Methodist spoke very zealously and with great feeling, and +so did the present clergyman; so I, of course, felt rather offended +with the clergyman for speaking with zeal and feeling. However, +long before the sermon was over I forgot the offence which I had +taken, and listened to the sermon with much admiration, for the +eloquence and powerful reasoning with which it abounded. + +Oh, how eloquent he was, when he talked of the inestimable value of +a man's soul, which he said endured for ever, whilst his body, as +every one knew, lasted at most for a very contemptible period of +time; and how forcibly he reasoned on the folly of a man, who, for +the sake of gaining the whole world--a thing, he said, which +provided he gained he could only possess for a part of the time, +during which his perishable body existed--should lose his soul, +that is, cause that precious deathless portion of him to suffer +indescribable misery time without end. + +There was one part of his sermon which struck me in a very +particular manner: he said, "That there were some people who +gained something in return for their souls; if they did not get the +whole world, they got a part of it--lands, wealth, honour, or +renown; mere trifles, he allowed, in comparison with the value of a +man's soul, which is destined either to enjoy delight, or suffer +tribulation time without end; but which, in the eyes of the +worldly, had a certain value, and which afforded a certain pleasure +and satisfaction. But there were also others who lost their souls, +and got nothing for them--neither lands, wealth, renown, nor +consideration, who were poor outcasts, and despised by everybody. +My friends," he added, "if the man is a fool who barters his soul +for the whole world, what a fool he must be who barters his soul +for nothing." + +The eyes of the clergyman, as he uttered these words, wandered +around the whole congregation; and when he had concluded them, the +eyes of the whole congregation were turned upon my companions and +myself. + + + +CHAPTER IX + + + +Return from Church--The Cuckoo and Gypsy--Spiritual Discourse. + + +The service over, my companions and myself returned towards the +encampment, by the way we came. Some of the humble part of the +congregation laughed and joked at us as we passed. Mr. Petulengro +and his wife, however, returned their laughs and jokes with +interest. As for Tawno and myself, we said nothing: Tawno, like +most handsome fellows, having very little to say for himself at any +time; and myself, though not handsome, not being particularly +skilful at repartee. Some boys followed us for a considerable +time, making all kinds of observations about gypsies; but as we +walked at a great pace, we gradually left them behind, and at last +lost sight of them. Mrs. Petulengro and Tawno Chikno walked +together, even as they had come; whilst Mr. Petulengro and myself +followed at a little distance. + +"That was a very fine preacher we heard," said I to Mr. Petulengro, +after we had crossed the stile into the fields. + +"Very fine indeed, brother," said Mr. Petulengro; "he is talked of, +far and wide, for his sermons; folks say that there is scarcely +another like him in the whole of England." + +"He looks rather melancholy, Jasper." + +"He lost his wife several years ago, who, they say, was one of the +most beautiful women ever seen. They say that it was grief for her +loss that made him come out mighty strong as a preacher; for, +though he was a clergyman, he was never heard of in the pulpit +before he lost his wife; since then, the whole country has rung +with the preaching of the clergyman of M--- as they call him. +Those two nice young gentlewomen, whom you saw with the female +childer, are his daughters." + +"You seem to know all about him, Jasper. Did you ever hear him +preach before?" + +"Never, brother; but he has frequently been to our tent, and his +daughters too, and given us tracts; for he is one of the people +they call Evangelicals, who give folks tracts which they cannot +read." + +"You should learn to read, Jasper." + +"We have no time, brother." + +"Are you not frequently idle?" + +"Never, brother; when we are not engaged in our traffic, we are +engaged in taking our relaxation: so we have no time to learn." + +"You really should make an effort. If you were disposed to learn +to read, I would endeavour to assist you. You would be all the +better for knowing how to read." + +"In what way, brother?" + +"Why, you could read the Scriptures, and, by so doing, learn your +duty towards your fellow-creatures." + +"We know that already, brother; the constables and justices have +contrived to knock that tolerably into our heads." + +"Yet you frequently break the laws." + +"So, I believe, do now and then those who know how to read, +brother." + +"Very true, Jasper; but you really ought to learn to read, as, by +so doing, you might learn your duty towards yourselves: and your +chief duty is to take care of your own souls; did not the preacher +say, 'In what is a man profited, provided he gain the whole +world?'" + +"We have not much of the world, brother." + +"Very little indeed, Jasper. Did you not observe how the eyes of +the whole congregation were turned towards our pew, when the +preacher said, 'There are some people who lose their souls, and get +nothing in exchange; who are outcast, despised, and miserable?' +Now was not what he said quite applicable to the gypsies?" + +"We are not miserable, brother." + +"Well, then, you ought to be, Jasper. Have you an inch of ground +of your own? Are you of the least use? Are you not spoken ill of +by everybody? What's a gypsy?" + +"What's the bird noising yonder, brother?" + +"The bird! oh, that's the cuckoo tolling; but what has the cuckoo +to do with the matter?" + +"We'll see, brother; what's the cuckoo?" + +"What is it? you know as much about it as myself, Jasper." + +"Isn't it a kind of roguish, chaffing bird, brother?" + +"I believe it is, Jasper." + +"Nobody knows whence it comes, brother?" + +"I believe not, Jasper." + +"Very poor, brother, not a nest of its own?" + +"So they say, Jasper." + +"With every person's bad word, brother?" + +"Yes, Jasper, every person is mocking it." + +"Tolerably merry, brother?" + +"Yes, tolerably merry, Jasper." + +"Of no use at all, brother?" + +"None whatever, Jasper." + +"You would be glad to get rid of the cuckoos, brother?" + +"Why, not exactly, Jasper; the cuckoo is a pleasant, funny bird, +and its presence and voice give a great charm to the green trees +and fields; no, I can't say I wish exactly to get rid of the +cuckoo." + +"Well, brother, what's a Romany chal?" + +"You must answer that question yourself, Jasper." + +"A roguish, chaffing fellow, a'n't he, brother?" + +"Ay, ay, Jasper." + +"Of no use at all, brother?" + +"Just so, Jasper; I see--" + +"Something very much like a cuckoo, brother?" + +"I see what you are after, Jasper." + +"You would like to get rid of us, wouldn't you?" + +"Why no, not exactly." + +"We are no ornament to the green lanes in spring and summer time, +are we, brother? and the voices of our chies, with their cukkerin +and dukkerin, don't help to make them pleasant?" + +"I see what you are at, Jasper." + +"You would wish to turn the cuckoos into barn-door fowls, wouldn't +you?" + +"Can't say I should, Jasper, whatever some people might wish." + +"And the chals and chies into radical weavers and factory wenches, +hey, brother?" + +"Can't say that I should, Jasper. You are certainly a picturesque +people, and in many respects an ornament both to town and country; +painting and lil writing too are under great obligations to you. +What pretty pictures are made out of your campings and groupings, +and what pretty books have been written in which gypsies, or at +least creatures intended to represent gypsies, have been the +principal figures. I think if we were without you, we should begin +to miss you." + +"Just as you would the cuckoos, if they were all converted into +barn-door fowls. I tell you what, brother; frequently, as I have +sat under a hedge in spring or summer time, and heard the cuckoo, I +have thought that we chals and cuckoos are alike in many respects, +but especially in character. Everybody speaks ill of us both, and +everybody is glad to see both of us again." + +"Yes, Jasper, but there is some difference between men and cuckoos; +men have souls, Jasper!" + +"And why not cuckoos, brother?" + +"You should not talk so, Jasper; what you say is little short of +blasphemy. How should a bird have a soul?" + +"And how should a man?" + +"Oh, we know very well that a man has a soul." + +"How do you know it?" + +"We know very well." + +"Would you take your oath of it, brother--your bodily oath?" + +"Why, I think I might, Jasper!" + +"Did you ever see the soul, brother?" + +"No, I never saw it." + +"Then how could you swear to it? A pretty figure you would make in +a court of justice, to swear to a thing which you never saw. Hold +up your head, fellow. When and where did you see it? Now upon +your oath, fellow, do you mean to say that this Roman stole the +donkey's foal? Oh, there's no one for cross-questioning like +Counsellor P---. Our people when they are in a hobble always like +to employ him, though he is somewhat dear. Now, brother, how can +you get over the 'upon your oath, fellow, will you say that you +have a soul?'" + +"Well, we will take no oaths on the subject; but you yourself +believe in the soul. I have heard you say that you believe in +dukkerin; now what is dukkerin but the soul science?" + +"When did I say that I believed in it?" + +"Why, after that fight, when you pointed to the bloody mark in the +cloud, whilst he you wot of was galloping in the barouche to the +old town, amidst the rain-cataracts, the thunder, and flame of +heaven." + +"I have some kind of remembrance of it, brother." + +"Then, again, I heard you say that the dook of Abershaw rode every +night on horseback down the wooded hill." + +"I say, brother, what a wonderful memory you have!" + +"I wish I had not, Jasper; but I can't help it, it is my +misfortune." + +"Misfortune! well, perhaps it is; at any rate it is very ungenteel +to have such a memory. I have heard my wife say that to show you +have a long memory looks very vulgar; and that you can't give a +greater proof of gentility than by forgetting a thing as soon as +possible--more especially a promise, or an acquaintance when he +happens to be shabby. Well, brother, I don't deny that I may have +said that I believe in dukkerin, and in Abershaw's dook, which you +say is his soul; but what I believe one moment, or say I believe, +don't be certain that I shall believe the next, or say I do." + +"Indeed, Jasper, I heard you say on a previous occasion, on quoting +a piece of a song, that when a man dies he is cast into the earth, +and there's an end of him." + +"I did, did I? Lor' what a memory you have, brother. But you are +not sure that I hold that opinion now." + +"Certainly not, Jasper. Indeed, after such a sermon as we have +been hearing, I should be very shocked if you held such an +opinion." + +"However, brother, don't be sure I do not, however shocking such an +opinion may be to you." + +"What an incomprehensible people you are, Jasper." + +"We are rather so, brother; indeed, we have posed wiser heads than +yours before now." + +"You seem to care for so little, and yet you rove about a distinct +race." + +"I say, brother!" + +"Yes, Jasper." + +"What do you think of our women?" + +"They have certainly very singular names, Jasper." + +"Names! Lavengro! However, brother, if you had been as fond of +things as of names, you would never have been a pal of ours." + +"What do you mean, Jasper?" + +"A'n't they rum animals?" + +"They have tongues of their own, Jasper." + +"Did you ever feel their teeth and nails, brother?" + +"Never, Jasper, save Mrs. Herne's. I have always been very civil +to them, so--" + +"They let you alone. I say, brother, some part of the secret is in +them." + +"They seem rather flighty, Jasper." + +"Ay, ay, brother!" + +"Rather fond of loose discourse!" + +"Rather so, brother." + +"Can you always trust them, Jasper?" + +"We never watch them, brother." + +"Can they always trust you?" + +"Not quite so well as we can them. However, we get on very well +together, except Mikailia and her husband; but Mikailia is a +cripple, and is married to the beauty of the world, so she may be +expected to be jealous--though he would not part with her for a +duchess, no more than I would part with my rawnie, nor any other +chal with his." + +"Ay, but would not the chi part with the chal for a duke, Jasper?" + +"My Pakomovna gave up the duke for me, brother." + +"But she occasionally talks of him, Jasper." + +"Yes, brother, but Pakomovna was born on a common not far from the +sign of the gammon." + +"Gammon of bacon, I suppose." + +"Yes, brother; but gammon likewise means--" + +"I know it does, Jasper; it means fun, ridicule, jest; it is an +ancient Norse word, and is found in the Edda." + +"Lor', brother! how learned in lils you are!" + +"Many words of Norse are to be found in our vulgar sayings, Jasper; +for example--in that particularly vulgar saying of ours, 'Your +mother is up,' there's a noble Norse word; mother, there, meaning +not the female who bore us, but rage and choler, as I discovered by +reading the Sagas, Jasper." + +"Lor', brother! how book-learned you be." + +"Indifferently so, Jasper. Then you think you might trust your +wife with the duke?" + +"I think I could, brother, or even with yourself." + +"Myself, Jasper! Oh, I never troubled my head about your wife; but +I suppose there have been love affairs between gorgios and Romany +chies. Why, novels are stuffed with such matters; and then even +one of your own songs says so--the song which Ursula was singing +the other afternoon." + +"That is somewhat of an old song, brother, and is sung by the chies +as a warning at our solemn festivals." + +"Well! but there's your sister-in-law, Ursula, herself, Jasper." + +"Ursula, herself, brother?" + +"You were talking of my having her, Jasper." + +"Well, brother, why didn't you have her?" + +"Would she have had me?" + +"Of course, brother. You are so much of a Roman, and speak Romany +so remarkably well." + +"Poor thing! she looks very innocent!" + +"Remarkably so, brother! however, though not born on the same +common with my wife, she knows a thing or two of Roman matters." + +"I should like to ask her a question or two, Jasper, in connection +with that song." + +"You can do no better, brother. Here we are at the camp. After +tea, take Ursula under a hedge, and ask her a question or two in +connection with that song." + + + +CHAPTER X + + + +Sunday Evening--Ursula--Action at Law--Meridiana--Married Already. + + +I took tea that evening with Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro and Ursula, +outside of their tent. Tawno was not present, being engaged with +his wife in his own tabernacle; Sylvester was there, however, +lolling listlessly upon the ground. As I looked upon this man, I +thought him one of the most disagreeable fellows I had ever seen. +His features were ugly, and, moreover, as dark as pepper; and, +besides being dark, his skin was dirty. As for his dress, it was +torn and sordid. His chest was broad, and his arms seemed +powerful; but, upon the whole, he looked a very caitiff. "I am +sorry that man has lost his wife," thought I; "for I am sure he +will never get another." What surprises me is, that he ever found +a woman disposed to unite her lot with his! + +After tea I got up and strolled about the field. My thoughts were +upon Isopel Berners. I wondered where she was, and how long she +would stay away. At length becoming tired and listless, I +determined to return to the dingle, and resume the reading of the +Bible at the place where I had left off. "What better could I do," +methought, "on a Sunday evening?" I was then near the wood which +surrounded the dingle, but at that side which was farthest from the +encampment, which stood near the entrance. Suddenly, on turning +round the southern corner of the copse, which surrounded the +dingle, I perceived Ursula seated under a thornbush. I thought I +never saw her look prettier than then, dressed as she was, in her +Sunday's best. + +"Good evening, Ursula," said I; "I little thought to have the +pleasure of seeing you here." + +"Nor would you, brother," said Ursula, "had not Jasper told me that +you had been talking about me, and wanted to speak to me under a +hedge; so, hearing that, I watched your motions, and came here and +sat down." + +"I was thinking of going to my quarters in the dingle, to read the +Bible, Ursula, but--" + +"Oh, pray then, go to your quarters, brother, and read the +Miduveleskoe lil; you can speak to me under a hedge some other +time." + +"I think I will sit down with you, Ursula; for, after all, reading +godly books in dingles at eve, is rather sombre work. Yes, I think +I will sit down with you;" and I sat down by her side. + +"Well, brother, now you have sat down with me under the hedge, what +have you to say to me?" + +"Why, I hardly know, Ursula." + +"Not know, brother; a pretty fellow you to ask young women to come +and sit with you under hedges, and, when they come, not know what +to say to them." + +"Oh! ah! I remember; do you know, Ursula, that I take a great +interest in you?" + +"Thank ye, brother; kind of you, at any rate." + +"You must be exposed to a great many temptations, Ursula." + +"A great many indeed, brother. It is hard, to see fine things, +such as shawls, gold watches, and chains in the shops, behind the +big glasses, and to know that they are not intended for one. +Many's the time I have been tempted to make a dash at them; but I +bethought myself that by so doing I should cut my hands, besides +being almost certain of being grabbed and sent across the gull's +bath to the foreign country." + +"Then you think gold and fine things temptations, Ursula?" + +"Of course, brother, very great temptations; don't you think them +so?" + +"Can't say I do, Ursula." + +"Then more fool you, brother; but have the kindness to tell me what +you would call a temptation?" + +"Why, for example, the hope of honour and renown, Ursula." + +"The hope of honour and renown! very good, brother; but I tell you +one thing, that unless you have money in your pocket, and good +broad-cloth on your back, you are not likely to obtain much honour +and--what do you call it? amongst the gorgios, to say nothing of +the Romany chals." + +"I should have thought, Ursula, that the Romany chals, roaming +about the world as they do, free and independent, were above being +led by such trifles." + +"Then you know nothing of the gypsies, brother; no people on earth +are fonder of those trifles, as you call them, than the Romany +chals, and more disposed to respect those who have them." + +"Then money and fine clothes would induce you to do anything, +Ursula?" + +"Ay, ay, brother, anything." + +"To chore, Ursula?" + +"Like enough, brother; gypsies have been transported before now for +choring." + +"To hokkawar?" + +"Ay, ay; I was telling dukkerin only yesterday, brother." + +"In fact, to break the law in everything?" + +"Who knows, brother, who knows? as I said before, gold and fine +clothes are great temptations." + +"Well, Ursula, I am sorry for it, I should never have thought you +so depraved." + +"Indeed, brother." + +"To think that I am seated by one who is willing to--to--" + +"Go on, brother." + +"To play the thief." + +"Go on, brother." + +"The liar." + +"Go on, brother." + +"The--the--" + +"Go on, brother." + +"The--the lubbeny." + +"The what, brother?" said Ursula, starting from her seat. + +"Why, the lubbeny; don't you--" + +"I tell you what, brother," said Ursula, looking somewhat pale, and +speaking very low, "if I had only something in my hand, I would do +you a mischief." + +"Why, what is the matter, Ursula?" said I; "how have I offended +you?" + +"How have you offended me? Why, didn't you insinivate just now +that I was ready to play the--the--" + +"Go on, Ursula." + +"The--the--I'll not say it; but I only wish I had something in my +hand." + +"If I have offended, Ursula, I am very sorry for it; any offence I +may have given you was from want of understanding you. Come, pray +be seated, I have much to question you about--to talk to you +about." + +"Seated, not I! It was only just now that you gave me to +understand that you was ashamed to be seated by me, a thief, a +liar." + +"Well, did you not almost give me to understand that you were both, +Ursula?" + +"I don't much care being called a thief and a liar," said Ursula; +"a person may be a liar and thief, and yet a very honest woman, +but--" + +"Well, Ursula." + +"I tell you what, brother, if you ever sinivate again that I could +be the third thing, so help me duvel! I'll do you a mischief. By +my God I will!" + +"Well, Ursula, I assure you that I shall sinivate, as you call it, +nothing of the kind about you. I have no doubt, from what you have +said, that you are a very paragon of virtue--a perfect Lucretia; +but--" + +"My name is Ursula, brother, and not Lucretia: Lucretia is not of +our family, but one of the Bucklands; she travels about +Oxfordshire; yet I am as good as she any day." + +"Lucretia; how odd! Where could she have got that name? Well, I +make no doubt, Ursula, that you are quite as good as she, and she +as her namesake of ancient Rome; but there is a mystery in this +same virtue, Ursula, which I cannot fathom; how a thief and a liar +should be able, or indeed willing, to preserve her virtue is what I +don't understand. You confess that you are very fond of gold. +Now, how is it that you don't barter your virtue for gold +sometimes? I am a philosopher, Ursula, and like to know +everything. You must be every now and then exposed to great +temptation, Ursula; for you are of a beauty calculated to captivate +all hearts. Come, sit down and tell me how you are enabled to +resist such a temptation as gold and fine clothes?" + +"Well, brother," said Ursula, "as you say you mean no harm, I will +sit down beside you, and enter into discourse with you; but I will +uphold that you are the coolest hand that I ever came nigh, and say +the coolest things." + +And thereupon Ursula sat down by my side. + +"Well, Ursula, we will, if you please, discourse on the subject of +your temptations. I suppose that you travel very much about, and +show yourself in all kinds of places?" + +"In all kinds, brother; I travels, as you say, very much about, +attends fairs and races, and enters booths and public-houses, where +I tells fortunes, and sometimes dances and sings." + +"And do not people often address you in a very free manner?" + +"Frequently, brother; and I give them tolerably free answers." + +"Do people ever offer to make you presents? I mean presents of +value, such as--" + +"Silk handkerchiefs, shawls, and trinkets; very frequently, +brother." + +"And what do you do, Ursula?" + +"I takes what people offers me, brother, and stows it away as soon +as I can." + +"Well, but don't people expect something for their presents? I +don't mean dukkerin, dancing, and the like; but such a moderate and +innocent thing as a choomer, Ursula?" + +"Innocent thing, do you call it, brother?" + +"The world calls it so, Ursula. Well, do the people who give you +the fine things never expect a choomer in return?" + +"Very frequently, brother." + +"And do you ever grant it?" + +"Never, brother." + +"How do you avoid it?" + +"I gets away as soon as possible, brother. If they follows me, I +tries to baffle them, by means of jests and laughter; and if they +persist, I uses bad and terrible language, of which I have plenty +in store." + +"But if your terrible language has no effect?" + +"Then I screams for the constable, and if he comes not, I uses my +teeth and nails." + +"And are they always sufficient?" + +"I have only had to use them twice, brother; but then I found them +sufficient." + +"But suppose the person who followed you was highly agreeable, +Ursula? A handsome young officer of local militia, for example, +all dressed in Lincoln green, would you still refuse him the +choomer?" + +"We makes no difference, brother; the daughters of the gypsy-father +makes no difference; and what's more, sees none." + +"Well, Ursula, the world will hardly give you credit for such +indifference." + +"What cares we for the world, brother! we are not of the world." + +"But your fathers, brothers, and uncles, give you credit, I +suppose, Ursula." + +"Ay, ay, brother, our fathers, brothers, and cokos gives us all +manner of credit; for example, I am telling lies and dukkerin in a +public-house where my batu or coko--perhaps both--are playing on +the fiddle; well, my batu and my coko beholds me amongst the +public-house crew, talking nonsense and hearing nonsense; but they +are under no apprehension; and presently they sees the good-looking +officer of militia, in his greens and Lincolns, get up and give me +a wink, and I go out with him abroad, into the dark night perhaps; +well, my batu and my coko goes on fiddling just as if I were six +miles off asleep in the tent, and not out in the dark street with +the local officer, with his Lincolns and his greens." + +"They know they can trust you, Ursula?" + +"Ay, ay, brother; and, what's more, I knows I can trust myself." + +"So you would merely go out to make a fool of him, Ursula?" + +"Merely go out to make a fool of him, brother, I assure you." + +"But such proceedings really have an odd look, Ursula." + +"Amongst gorgios, very so, brother." + +"Well, it must be rather unpleasant to lose one's character even +amongst gorgios, Ursula; and suppose the officer, out of revenge +for being tricked and duped by you, were to say of you the thing +that is not, were to meet you on the race-course the next day, and +boast of receiving favours which he never had, amidst a knot of +jeering militia-men, how would you proceed, Ursula? would you not +be abashed?" + +"By no means, brother; I should bring my action of law against +him." + +"Your action at law, Ursula?" + +"Yes, brother, I should give a whistle, whereupon all one's cokos +and batus, and all my near and distant relations, would leave their +fiddling, dukkerin, and horse-dealing, and come flocking about me. +'What's the matter, Ursula?' says my coko. 'Nothing at all,' I +replies, 'save and except that gorgio, in his greens and his +Lincolns, says that I have played the--with him.' 'Oho, he does, +Ursula,' says my coko, 'try your action of law against him, my +lamb,' and he puts something privily into my hands; whereupon I +goes close up to the grinning gorgio, and staring him in the face, +with my head pushed forward, I cries out: 'You say I did what was +wrong with you last night when I was out with you abroad?' 'Yes,' +says the local officer, 'I says you did,' looking down all the +time. 'You are a liar,' says I, and forthwith I breaks his head +with the stick which I holds behind me, and which my coko has +conveyed privily into my hand." + +"And this is your action at law, Ursula?" + +"Yes, brother, this is my action at club-law." + +"And would your breaking the fellow's head quite clear you of all +suspicion in the eyes of your batus, cokos, and what not?" + +"They would never suspect me at all, brother, because they would +know that I would never condescend to be over-intimate with a +gorgio; the breaking the head would be merely intended to justify +Ursula in the eyes of the gorgios." + +"And would it clear you in their eyes?" + +"Would it not, brother? when they saw the blood running down from +the fellow's cracked poll on his greens and Lincolns, they would be +quite satisfied; why, the fellow would not be able to show his face +at fair or merry-making for a year and three-quarters." + +"Did you ever try it, Ursula?" + +"Can't say I ever did, brother, but it would do." + +"And how did you ever learn such a method of proceeding?" + +"Why, 't is advised by gypsy liri, brother. It's part of our way +of settling difficulties amongst ourselves; for example, if a young +Roman were to say the thing which is not respecting Ursula and +himself, Ursula would call a great meeting of the people, who would +all sit down in a ring, the young fellow amongst them; a coko would +then put a stick in Ursula's hand, who would then get up and go to +the young fellow, and say, 'Did I play the--with you?' and were he +to say 'Yes,' she would crack his head before the eyes of all." + +"Well," said I, "Ursula, I was bred an apprentice to gorgio law, +and of course ought to stand up for it, whenever I conscientiously +can, but I must say the gypsy manner of bringing an action for +defamation is much less tedious, and far more satisfactory, than +the gorgiko one. I wish you now to clear up a certain point which +is rather mysterious to me. You say that for a Romany chi to do +what is unseemly with a gorgio is quite out of the question, yet +only the other day I heard you singing a song in which a Romany chi +confesses herself to be cambri by a grand gorgious gentleman." + +"A sad let down," said Ursula. + +"Well," said I, "sad or not, there's the song that speaks of the +thing, which you give me to understand is not." + +"Well, if the thing ever was," said Ursula, "it was a long time +ago, and perhaps, after all, not true." + +"Then why do you sing the song?" + +"I'll tell you, brother, we sings the song now and then to be a +warning to ourselves to have as little to do as possible in the way +of acquaintance with the gorgios; and a warning it is; you see how +the young woman in the song was driven out of her tent by her +mother, with all kind of disgrace and bad language; but you don't +know that she was afterwards buried alive by her cokos and pals, in +an uninhabited place; the song doesn't say it, but the story says +it, for there is a story about it, though, as I said before, it was +a long time ago, and perhaps, after all, wasn't true." + +"But if such a thing were to happen at present, would the cokos and +pals bury the girl alive?" + +"I can't say what they would do," said Ursula; "I suppose they are +not so strict as they were long ago; at any rate, she would be +driven from the tan, and avoided by all her family and relations as +a gorgio's acquaintance; so that, perhaps, at last, she would be +glad if they would bury her alive." + +"Well, I can conceive that there would be an objection on the part +of the cokos and batus that a Romany chi should form an improper +acquaintance with a gorgio, but I should think that the batus and +cokos could hardly object to the chi's entering into the honourable +estate of wedlock with a gorgio." + +Ursula was silent. + +"Marriage is an honourable estate, Ursula." + +"Well, brother, suppose it be?" + +"I don't see why a Romany chi should object to enter into the +honourable estate of wedlock with a gorgio." + +"You don't, brother; don't you?" + +"No," said I; "and, moreover, I am aware, notwithstanding your +evasion, Ursula, that marriages and connections now and then occur +between gorgios and Romany chies; the result of which is the mixed +breed, called half and half, which is at present travelling about +England, and to which the Flaming Tinman belongs, otherwise called +Anselo Herne." + +"As for the half and halfs," said Ursula, "they are a bad set; and +there is not a worse blackguard in England than Anselo Herne." + +"All that you say may be very true, Ursula, but you admit that +there are half and halfs." + +"The more's the pity, brother." + +"Pity, or not, you admit the fact; but how do you account for it?" + +"How do I account for it? why, I will tell you, by the break up of +a Roman family, brother--the father of a small family dies, and, +perhaps, the mother; and the poor children are left behind; +sometimes, they are gathered up by their relations, and sometimes, +if they have none, by charitable Romans, who bring them up in the +observance of gypsy law; but sometimes they are not so lucky, and +falls into the company of gorgios, trampers, and basket-makers, who +live in caravans, with whom they take up, and so--I hate to talk of +the matter, brother; but so comes this race of the half and halfs." + +"Then you mean to say, Ursula, that no Romany chi, unless compelled +by hard necessity, would have anything to do with a gorgio?" + +"We are not over-fond of gorgios, brother, and we hates basket- +makers, and folks that live in caravans." + +"Well," said I, "suppose a gorgio who is not a basket-maker, a +fine, handsome gorgious gentleman, who lives in a fine house--" + +"We are not fond of houses, brother; I never slept in a house in my +life." + +"But would not plenty of money induce you?" + +"I hate houses, brother, and those who live in them." + +"Well, suppose such a person were willing to resign his fine house; +and, for love of you, to adopt gypsy law, speak Romany, and live in +a tan, would you have nothing to say to him?" + +"Bringing plenty of money with him, brother?" + +"Well, bringing plenty of money with him, Ursula." + +"Well, brother, suppose you produce your man; where is he?" + +"I was merely supposing such a person, Ursula." + +"Then you don't know of such a person, brother?" + +"Why, no, Ursula; why do you ask?" + +"Because, brother, I was almost beginning to think that you meant +yourself." + +"Myself! Ursula; I have no fine house to resign; nor have I money. +Moreover, Ursula, though I have a great regard for you, and though +I consider you very handsome, quite as handsome, indeed, as +Meridiana in--" + +"Meridiana! where did you meet with her?" said Ursula, with a toss +of her head. + +"Why, in old Pulci's--" + +"At old Fulcher's! that's not true, brother. Meridiana is a +Borzlam, and travels with her own people, and not with old Fulcher, +who is a gorgio, and a basket-maker." + +"I was not speaking of old Fulcher, but Pulci, a great Italian +writer, who lived many hundred years ago, and who, in his poem +called 'Morgante Maggiore,' speaks of Meridiana, the daughter of--" + +"Old Carus Borzlam," said Ursula; "but if the fellow you mention +lived so many hundred years ago, how, in the name of wonder, could +he know anything of Meridiana?" + +"The wonder, Ursula, is, how your people could ever have got hold +of that name, and similar ones. The Meridiana of Pulci was not the +daughter of old Carus Borzlam, but of Caradoro, a great pagan king +of the East, who, being besieged in his capital by Manfredonio, +another mighty pagan king, who wished to obtain possession of his +daughter, who had refused him, was relieved in his distress by +certain paladins of Charlemagne, with one of whom, Oliver, his +daughter Meridiana fell in love." + +"I see," said, Ursula, "that it must have been altogether a +different person, for I am sure that Meridiana Borzlam would never +have fallen in love with Oliver. Oliver! why, that is the name of +the curo-mengro, who lost the fight near the chong gav, the day of +the great tempest, when I got wet through. No, no! Meridiana +Borzlam would never have so far forgot her blood as to take up with +Tom Oliver." + +"I was not talking of that Oliver, Ursula, but of Oliver, peer of +France, and paladin of Charlemagne, with whom Meridiana, daughter +of Caradoro, fell in love, and for whose sake she renounced her +religion and became a Christian, and finally ingravidata, or +cambri, by him:- + + +'E nacquene un figliuol, dice la storia, +Che dette a Carlo-man poi gran vittoria;' + + +which means--" + +"I don't want to know what it means," said Ursula; "no good, I'm +sure. Well, if the Meridiana of Charles's wain's pal was no +handsomer than Meridiana Borzlam, she was no great catch, brother; +for though I am by no means given to vanity, I think myself better +to look at than she, though I will say she is no lubbeny, and would +scorn--" + +"I make no doubt she would, Ursula, and I make no doubt that you +are much handsomer than she, or even the Meridiana of Oliver. What +I was about to say, before you interrupted me, is this, that though +I have a great regard for you, and highly admire you, it is only in +a brotherly way, and--" + +"And you had nothing better to say to me," said Ursula, "when you +wanted to talk to me beneath a hedge, than that you liked me in a +brotherly way I well, I declare--" + +"You seem disappointed, Ursula." + +"Disappointed, brother! not I." + +"You were just now saying that you disliked gorgios, so, of course, +could only wish that I, who am a gorgio, should like you in a +brotherly way: I wished to have a conversation with you beneath a +hedge, but only with the view of procuring from you some +information respecting the song which you sung the other day, and +the conduct of Roman females, which has always struck me as being +highly unaccountable; so, if you thought anything else--" + +"What else should I expect from a picker-up of old words, brother? +Bah! I dislike a picker-up of old words worse than a picker-up of +old rags." + +"Don't be angry, Ursula, I feel a great interest in you; you are +very handsome, and very clever; indeed, with your beauty and +cleverness, I only wonder that you have not long since been +married." + +"You do, do you, brother?" + +"Yes. However, keep up your spirits, Ursula, you are not much past +the prime of youth, so--" + +"Not much past the prime of youth! Don't be uncivil, brother, I +was only twenty-two last month." + +"Don't be offended, Ursula, but twenty-two is twenty-two, or, I +should rather say, that twenty-two in a woman is more than twenty- +six in a man. You are still very beautiful, but I advise you to +accept the first offer that's made to you." + +"Thank you, brother, but your advice comes rather late; I accepted +the first offer that was made me five years ago." + +"You married five years ago, Ursula! is it possible?" + +"Quite possible, brother, I assure you." + +"And how came I to know nothing about it?" + +"How comes it that you don't know many thousand things about the +Romans, brother? Do you think they tell you all their affairs?" + +"Married, Ursula, married! well, I declare!" + +"You seem disappointed, brother." + +"Disappointed! Oh! no, not at all; but Jasper, only a few weeks +ago, told me that you were not married; and, indeed, almost gave me +to understand that you would be very glad to get a husband." + +"And you believed him? I'll tell you, brother, for your +instruction, that there is not in the whole world a greater liar +than Jasper Petulengro." + +"I am sorry to hear it, Ursula; but with respect to him you +married--who might he be? A gorgio, or a Romany chal?" + +"Gorgio, or Romany chal! Do you think I would ever condescend to a +gorgio! It was a Camomescro, brother, a Lovell, a distant relation +of my own." + +"And where is he? and what became of him! Have you any family?" + +"Don't think I am going to tell you all my history, brother; and, +to tell you the truth, I am tired of sitting under hedges with you, +talking nonsense. I shall go to my house." + +"Do sit a little longer, sister Ursula. I most heartily +congratulate you on your marriage. But where is this same Lovell? +I have never seen him: I wish to congratulate him too. You are +quite as handsome as the Meridiana of Pulci, Ursula, ay, or the +Despina of Riciardetto. Riciardetto, Ursula, is a poem written by +one Fortiguerra, about ninety years ago, in imitation of the +Morgante of Pulci. It treats of the wars of Charlemagne and his +Paladins with various barbarous nations, who came to besiege Paris. +Despina was the daughter and heiress of Scricca, King of Cafria; +she was the beloved of Riciardetto, and was beautiful as an angel; +but I make no doubt you are quite as handsome as she." + +"Brother," said Ursula--but the reply of Ursula I reserve for +another chapter, the present having attained to rather an uncommon +length, for which, however, the importance of the matter discussed +is a sufficient apology. + + + +CHAPTER XI + + + +Ursula's Tale--The Patteran--The Deep Water--Second Husband. + + +"Brother," said Ursula, plucking a dandelion which grew at her +feet, "I have always said that a more civil and pleasant-spoken +person than yourself can't be found. I have a great regard for you +and your learning, and am willing to do you any pleasure in the way +of words or conversation. Mine is not a very happy story, but as +you wish to hear it, it is quite at your service. Launcelot Lovell +made me an offer, as you call it, and we were married in Roman +fashion; that is, we gave each other our right hands, and promised +to be true to each other. We lived together two years, travelling +sometimes by ourselves, sometimes with our relations; I bore him +two children, both of which were still-born, partly, I believe, +from the fatigue I underwent in running about the country telling +dukkerin when I was not exactly in a state to do so, and partly +from the kicks and blows which my husband Launcelot was in the +habit of giving me every night, provided I came home with less than +five shillings, which it is sometimes impossible to make in the +country, provided no fair or merry-making is going on. At the end +of two years my husband, Launcelot, whistled a horse from a +farmer's field, and sold it for forty-pounds; and for that horse he +was taken, put in prison, tried, and condemned to be sent to the +other country for life. Two days before he was to be sent away, I +got leave to see him in the prison, and in the presence of the +turnkey I gave him a thin cake of gingerbread, in which there was a +dainty saw which could cut through iron. I then took on +wonderfully, turned my eyes inside out, fell down in a seeming fit, +and was carried out of the prison. That same night my husband +sawed his irons off, cut through the bars of his window, and +dropping down a height of fifty feet, lighted on his legs, and came +and joined me on a heath where I was camped alone. We were just +getting things ready to be off, when we heard people coming, and +sure enough they were runners after my husband, Launcelot Lovell; +for his escape had been discovered within a quarter of an hour +after he had got away. My husband, without bidding me farewell, +set off at full speed, and they after him, but they could not take +him, and so they came back and took me, and shook me, and +threatened me, and had me before the poknees, who shook his head at +me, and threatened me in order to make me discover where my husband +was, but I said I did not know, which was true enough; not that I +would have told him if I had. So at last the poknees and the +runners, not being able to make anything out of me, were obliged to +let me go, and I went in search of my husband. I wandered about +with my cart for several days in the direction in which I saw him +run off, with my eyes bent on the ground, but could see no marks of +him; at last, coming to four cross roads, I saw my husband's +patteran." + +"You saw your husband's patteran?" + +"Yes, brother. Do you know what patteran means?" + +"Of course, Ursula; the gypsy trail, the handful of grass which the +gypsies strew in the roads as they travel, to give information to +any of their companions who may be behind, as to the route they +have taken. The gypsy patteran has always had a strange interest +for me, Ursula." + +"Like enough, brother; but what does patteran mean?" + +"Why, the gypsy trail, formed as I told you before." + +"And you know nothing more about patteran, brother?" + +"Nothing at all, Ursula; do you?" + +"What's the name for the leaf of a tree, brother?" + +"I don't know," said I; "it's odd enough that I have asked that +question of a dozen Romany chals and chies, and they always told me +that they did not know." + +"No more they did, brother; there's only one person in England that +knows, and that's myself--the name for a leaf is patteran. Now +there are two that knows it--the other is yourself." + +"Dear me, Ursula, how very strange! I am much obliged to you. I +think I never saw you look so pretty as you do now; but who told +you?" + +"My mother, Mrs. Herne, told it me one day, brother, when she was +in a good humour, which she very seldom was, as no one has a better +right to know than yourself, as she hated you mortally: it was one +day when you had been asking our company what was the word for a +leaf, and nobody could tell you, that she took me aside and told +me, for she was in a good humour, and triumphed in seeing you +balked. She told me the word for leaf was patteran, which our +people use now for trail, having forgotten the true meaning. She +said that the trail was called patteran, because the gypsies of old +were in the habit of making the marks with the leaves and branches +of trees, placed in a certain manner. She said that nobody knew it +but herself, who was one of the old sort, and begged me never to +tell the word to any one but him I should marry; and to be +particularly cautious never to let you know it, whom she hated. +Well, brother, perhaps I have done wrong to tell you; but, as I +said before, I likes you, and am always ready to do your pleasure +in words and conversation; my mother, moreover, is dead and gone, +and, poor thing, will never know anything about the matter. So, +when I married, I told my husband about the patteran, and we were +in the habit of making our private trails with leaves and branches +of trees, which none of the other gypsy people did; so, when I saw +my husband's patteran, I knew it at once, and I followed it upwards +of two hundred miles towards the north; and then I came to a deep, +awful-looking water, with an overhanging bank, and on the bank I +found the patteran, which directed me to proceed along the bank +towards the east, and I followed my husband's patteran towards the +east; and before I had gone half a mile, I came to a place where I +saw the bank had given way, and fallen into the deep water. +Without paying much heed, I passed on, and presently came to a +public-house, not far from the water, and I entered the public- +house to get a little beer, and perhaps to tell a dukkerin, for I +saw a great many people about the door; and, when I entered, I +found there was what they calls an inquest being held upon a body +in that house, and the jury had just risen to go and look at the +body; and being a woman, and having a curiosity, I thought I would +go with them, and so I did; and no sooner did I see the body, than +I knew it to be my husband's; it was much swelled and altered, but +I knew it partly by the clothes, and partly by a mark on the +forehead, and I cried out, 'It is my husband's body,' and I fell +down in a fit, and the fit that time, brother, was not a seeming +one." + +"Dear me," said I, "how terrible! but tell me, Ursula, how did your +husband come by his death?" + +"The bank, overhanging the deep water, gave way under him, brother, +and he was drowned; for, like most of our people, he could not +swim, or only a little. The body, after it had been in the water a +long time, came up of itself, and was found floating. Well, +brother, when the people of the neighbourhood found that I was the +wife of the drowned man, they were very kind to me, and made a +subscription for me, with which, after having seen my husband +buried, I returned the way I had come, till I met Jasper and his +people, and with them I have travelled ever since: I was very +melancholy for a long time, I assure you, brother; for the death of +my husband preyed very much upon my mind." + +"His death was certainly a very shocking one, Ursula; but, really, +if he had died a natural one, you could scarcely have regretted it, +for he appears to have treated you barbarously." + +"Women must bear, brother; and, barring that he kicked and beat me, +and drove me out to tell dukkerin when I could scarcely stand, he +was not a bad husband. A man, by gypsy law, brother, is allowed to +kick and beat his wife, and to bury her alive, if he thinks proper. +I am a gypsy, and have nothing to say against the law." + +"But what has Mikailia Chikno to say about it?" + +"She is a cripple, brother, the only cripple amongst the Roman +people: so she is allowed to do and say as she pleases. Moreover, +her husband does not think fit to kick or beat her, though it is my +opinion she would like him all the better if he were occasionally +to do so, and threaten to bury her alive; at any rate, she would +treat him better, and respect him more." + +"Your sister does not seem to stand much in awe of Jasper +Petulengro, Ursula." + +"Let the matters of my sister and Jasper Petulengro alone, brother; +you must travel in their company some time before you can +understand them; they are a strange two, up to all kind of +chaffing: but two more regular Romans don't breathe, and I'll tell +you, for your instruction, that there isn't a better mare-breaker +in England than Jasper Petulengro, if you can manage Miss Isopel +Berners as well as--" + +"Isopel Berners," said I, "how came you to think of her?" + +"How should I but think of her, brother, living as she does with +you in Mumper's dingle, and travelling about with you; you will +have, brother, more difficulty to manage her, than Jasper has to +manage my sister Pakomovna. I should have mentioned her before, +only I wanted to know what you had to say to me; and when we got +into discourse, I forgot her. I say, brother, let me tell you your +dukkerin, with respect to her, you will never--" + +"I want to hear no dukkerin, Ursula." + +"Do let me tell you your dukkerin, brother, you will never manage-- +" + +"I want to hear no dukkerin, Ursula, in connection with Isopel +Berners. Moreover, it is Sunday, we will change the subject; it is +surprising to me that, after all you have undergone, you should +look so beautiful. I suppose you do not think of marrying again, +Ursula?" + +"No, brother, one husband at a time is quite enough for any +reasonable mort; especially such a good husband as I have got." + +"Such a good husband! why, I thought you told me your husband was +drowned?" + +"Yes, brother, my first husband was." + +"And have you a second?" + +"To be sure, brother." + +"And who is he? in the name of wonder." + +"Who is he? why Sylvester, to be sure." + +"I do assure you, Ursula, that I feel disposed to be angry with +you; such a handsome young woman as yourself to take up with such a +nasty pepper-faced good for nothing--" + +"I won't hear my husband abused, brother; so you had better say no +more." + +"Why, is he not the Lazarus of the gypsies? has he a penny of his +own, Ursula?" + +"Then the more his want, brother, of a clever chi like me to take +care of him and his childer. I tell you what, brother, I will +chore, if necessary, and tell dukkerin for Sylvester, if even so +heavy as scarcely to be able to stand. You call him lazy; you +would not think him lazy if you were in a ring with him: he is a +proper man with his hands; Jasper is going to back him for twenty +pounds against Slammocks of the Chong gav, the brother of Roarer +and Bell-metal, he says he has no doubt that he will win." + +"Well, if you like him, I, of course, can have no objection. Have +you been long married?" + +"About a fortnight, brother; that dinner, the other day, when I +sang the song, was given in celebration of the wedding." + +"Were you married in a church, Ursula?" + +"We were not, brother; none but gorgios, cripples, and lubbenys are +ever married in a church: we took each other's words. Brother, I +have been with you near three hours beneath this hedge. I will go +to my husband." + +"Does he know that you are here?" + +"He does, brother." + +"And is he satisfied?" + +"Satisfied! of course. Lor', you gorgies! Brother, I go to my +husband and my house." And, thereupon, Ursula rose and departed. + +After waiting a little time I also arose; it was now dark, and I +thought I could do no better than betake myself to the dingle; at +the entrance of it I found Mr. Petulengro. "Well, brother," said +he, "what kind of conversation have you and Ursula had beneath the +hedge?" + +"If you wished to hear what we were talking about, you should have +come and sat down beside us; you knew where we were." + +"Well, brother, I did much the same, for I went and sat down behind +you." + +"Behind the hedge, Jasper?" + +"Behind the hedge, brother." + +"And heard all our conversation." + +"Every word, brother; and a rum conversation it was." + +"'Tis an old saying, Jasper, that listeners never hear any good of +themselves; perhaps you heard the epithet that Ursula bestowed upon +you." + +"If, by epitaph, you mean that she called me a liar, I did, +brother, and she was not much wrong, for I certainly do not always +stick exactly to truth; you, however, have not much to complain of +me." + +"You deceived me about Ursula, giving me to understand she was not +married." + +"She was not married when I told you so, brother; that is, not to +Sylvester; nor was I aware that she was going to marry him. I once +thought you had a kind of regard for her, and I am sure she had as +much for you as a Romany chi can have for a gorgio. I half +expected to have heard you make love to her behind the hedge, but I +begin to think you care for nothing in this world but old words and +strange stories. Lor' to take a young woman under a hedge, and +talk to her as you did to Ursula; and yet you got everything out of +her that you wanted, with your gammon about old Fulcher and +Meridiana. You are a cunning one, brother." + +"There you are mistaken, Jasper. I am not cunning. If people +think I am, it is because, being made up of art themselves, +simplicity of character is a puzzle to them. Your women are +certainly extraordinary creatures, Jasper." + +"Didn't I say they were rum animals? Brother, we Romans shall +always stick together as long as they stick fast to us." + +"Do you think they always will, Jasper?" + +"Can't say, brother; nothing lasts for ever. Romany chies are +Romany chies still, though not exactly what they were sixty years +ago. My wife, though a rum one, is not Mrs. Herne, brother. I +think she is rather fond of Frenchmen and French discourse. I tell +you what, brother, if ever gypsyism breaks up, it will be owing to +our chies having been bitten by that mad puppy they calls +gentility." + + + +CHAPTER XII + + + +The Dingle at Night--The Two Sides of the Question--Roman Females-- +Filling the Kettle--The Dream--The Tall Figure. + + +I descended to the bottom of the dingle. It was nearly involved in +obscurity. To dissipate the feeling of melancholy which came over +my mind, I resolved to kindle a fire; and having heaped dry sticks +upon my hearth, and added a billet or two, I struck a light, and +soon produced a blaze. Sitting down, I fixed my eyes upon the +blaze, and soon fell into a deep meditation. I thought of the +events of the day, the scene at church, and what I had heard at +church, the danger of losing one's soul, the doubts of Jasper +Petulengro as to whether one had a soul. I thought over the +various arguments which I had either heard, or which had come +spontaneously to my mind, for or against the probability of a state +of future existence. They appeared to me to be tolerably evenly +balanced. I then thought that it was at all events taking the +safest part to conclude that there was a soul. It would be a +terrible thing, after having passed one's life in the disbelief of +the existence of a soul, to wake up after death a soul, and to find +one's self a lost soul. Yes, methought I would come to the +conclusion that one has a soul. Choosing the safe side, however, +appeared to me to be playing a rather dastardly part. I had never +been an admirer of people who chose the safe side in everything; +indeed I had always entertained a thorough contempt for them. +Surely it would be showing more manhood to adopt the dangerous +side, that of disbelief; I almost resolved to do so--but yet in a +question of so much importance, I ought not to be guided by vanity. +The question was not which was the safe, but the true side? yet how +was I to know which was the true side? Then I thought of the +Bible--which I had been reading in the morning--that spoke of the +soul and a future state; but was the Bible true? I had heard +learned and moral men say that it was true, but I had also heard +learned and moral men say that it was not: how was I to decide? +Still that balance of probabilities! If I could but see the way of +truth, I would follow it, if necessary, upon hands and knees; on +that I was determined; but I could not see it. Feeling my brain +begin to turn round, I resolved to think of something else; and +forthwith began to think of what had passed between Ursula and +myself in our discourse beneath the hedge. + +I mused deeply on what she had told me as to the virtue of the +females of her race. How singular that virtue must be which was +kept pure and immaculate by the possessor, whilst indulging in +habits of falsehood and dishonesty! I had always thought the gypsy +females extraordinary beings. I had often wondered at them, their +dress, their manner of speaking, and, not least, at their names; +but, until the present day, I had been unacquainted with the most +extraordinary point connected with them. How came they possessed +of this extraordinary virtue? was it because they were thievish? I +remembered that an ancient thief-taker, who had retired from his +useful calling, and who frequently visited the office of my master +at law, the respectable S---, who had the management of his +property--I remembered to have heard this worthy, with whom I +occasionally held discourse, philosophic and profound, when he and +I chanced to be alone together in the office, say that all first- +rate thieves were sober, and of well-regulated morals, their bodily +passions being kept in abeyance by their love of gain; but this +axiom could scarcely hold good with respect to these women--however +thievish they might be, they did care for something besides gain: +they cared for their husbands. If they did thieve, they merely +thieved for their husbands; and though, perhaps, some of them were +vain, they merely prized their beauty because it gave them favour +in the eyes of their husbands. Whatever the husbands were--and +Jasper had almost insinuated that the males occasionally allowed +themselves some latitude--they appeared to be as faithful to their +husbands as the ancient Roman matrons were to theirs. Roman +matrons! and, after all, might not these be in reality Roman +matrons? They called themselves Romans; might not they be the +descendants of the old Roman matrons? Might not they be of the +same blood as Lucretia? And were not many of their strange names-- +Lucretia amongst the rest--handed down to them from old Rome? It +is true their language was not that of old Rome; it was not, +however, altogether different from it. After all, the ancient +Romans might be a tribe of these people, who settled down and +founded a village with the tilts of carts, which, by degrees, and +the influx of other people, became the grand city of the world. I +liked the idea of the grand city of the world owing its origin to a +people who had been in the habit of carrying their houses in their +carts. Why, after all, should not the Romans of history be a +branch of these Romans? There were several points of similarity +between them; if Roman matrons were chaste, both men and women were +thieves. Old Rome was the thief of the world; yet still there were +difficulties to be removed before I could persuade myself that the +old Romans and my Romans were identical; and in trying to remove +these difficulties, I felt my brain once more beginning to turn, +and in haste took up another subject of meditation, and that was +the patteran, and what Ursula had told me about it. + +I had always entertained a strange interest for that sign by which +in their wanderings the Romanese gave to those of their people who +came behind intimation as to the direction which they took; but it +now inspired me with greater interest than ever,--now that I had +learnt that the proper meaning of it was the leaves of trees. I +had, as I had said in my dialogue with Ursula, been very eager to +learn the word for leaf in the Romanian language, but had never +learnt it till this day; so patteran signified leaf of a tree; and +no one at present knew that but myself and Ursula, who had learnt +it from Mrs. Herne, the last, it was said, of the old stock; and +then I thought what strange people the gypsies must have been in +the old time. They were sufficiently strange at present, but they +must have been far stranger of old; they must have been a more +peculiar people--their language must have been more perfect--and +they must have had a greater stock of strange secrets. I almost +wished that I had lived some two or three hundred years ago, that I +might have observed these people when they were yet stranger than +at present. I wondered whether I could have introduced myself to +their company at that period, whether I should have been so +fortunate as to meet such a strange, half-malicious, half good- +humoured being as Jasper, who would have instructed me in the +language, then more deserving of note than at present. What might +I not have done with that language, had I known it in its purity? +Why, I might have written books in it; yet those who spoke it would +hardly have admitted me to their society at that period, when they +kept more to themselves. Yet I thought that I might possibly have +gained their confidence, and have wandered about with them, and +learnt their language, and all their strange ways, and then--and +then--and a sigh rose from the depth of my breast; for I began to +think, "Supposing I had accomplished all this, what would have been +the profit of it; and in what would all this wild gypsy dream have +terminated?" + +Then rose another sigh, yet more profound, for I began to think, +"What was likely to be the profit of my present way of life; the +living in dingles, making pony and donkey shoes, conversing with +gypsy-women under hedges, and extracting from them their odd +secrets?" What was likely to be the profit of such a kind of life, +even should it continue for a length of time?--a supposition not +very probable, for I was earning nothing to support me, and the +funds with which I had entered upon this life were gradually +disappearing. I was living, it is true, not unpleasantly, enjoying +the healthy air of heaven; but, upon the whole, was I not sadly +misspending my time? Surely I was; and, as I looked back, it +appeared to me that I had always been doing so. What had been the +profit of the tongues which I had learnt? had they ever assisted me +in the day of hunger? No, no! it appeared to me that I had always +misspent my time, save in one instance, when by a desperate effort +I had collected all the powers of my imagination, and written the +"Life of Joseph Sell;" but even when I wrote the Life of Sell, was +I not in a false position? Provided I had not misspent my time, +would it have been necessary to make that effort, which, after all, +had only enabled me to leave London, and wander about the country +for a time? But could I, taking all circumstances into +consideration, have done better than I had? With my peculiar +temperament and ideas, could I have pursued with advantage the +profession to which my respectable parents had endeavoured to bring +me up? It appeared to me that I could not, and that the hand of +necessity had guided me from my earliest years, until the present +night, in which I found myself seated in the dingle, staring on the +brands of the fire. But ceasing to think of the past which, as +irrecoverably gone, it was useless to regret, even were there cause +to regret it, what should I do in future? Should I write another +book like the Life of Joseph Sell; take it to London, and offer it +to a publisher? But when I reflected on the grisly sufferings +which I had undergone whilst engaged in writing the Life of Sell, I +shrank from the idea of a similar attempt; moreover, I doubted +whether I possessed the power to write a similar work--whether the +materials for the life of another Sell lurked within the recesses +of my brain? Had I not better become in reality what I had +hitherto been merely playing at--a tinker or a gypsy? But I soon +saw that I was not fitted to become either in reality. It was much +more agreeable to play the gypsy or the tinker than to become +either in reality. I had seen enough of gypsying and tinkering to +be convinced of that. All of a sudden the idea of tilling the soil +came into my head; tilling the soil was a healthful and noble +pursuit! but my idea of tilling the soil had no connection with +Britain; for I could only expect to till the soil in Britain as a +serf. I thought of tilling it in America, in which it was said +there was plenty of wild, unclaimed land, of which any one, who +chose to clear it of its trees, might take possession. I figured +myself in America, in an immense forest, clearing the land +destined, by my exertions, to become a fruitful and smiling plain. +Methought I heard the crash of the huge trees as they fell beneath +my axe; and then I bethought me that a man was intended to marry--I +ought to marry; and if I married, where was I likely to be more +happy as a husband and a father than in America, engaged in tilling +the ground? I fancied myself in America, engaged in tilling the +ground, assisted by an enormous progeny. Well, why not marry, and +go and till the ground in America? I was young, and youth was the +time to marry in, and to labour in. I had the use of all my +faculties; my eyes, it is true, were rather dull from early study, +and from writing the Life of Joseph Sell; but I could see tolerably +well with them, and they were not bleared. I felt my arms, and +thighs, and teeth--they were strong and sound enough; so now was +the time to labour, to marry, eat strong flesh, and beget strong +children--the power of doing all this would pass away with youth, +which was terribly transitory. I bethought me that a time would +come when my eyes would be bleared, and, perhaps, sightless; my +arms and thighs strengthless and sapless; when my teeth would shake +in my jaws, even supposing they did not drop out. No going a +wooing then--no labouring--no eating strong flesh, and begetting +lusty children then; and I bethought me how, when all this should +be, I should bewail the days of my youth as misspent, provided I +had not in them founded for myself a home, and begotten strong +children to take care of me in the days when I could not take care +of myself; and thinking of these things, I became sadder and +sadder, and stared vacantly upon the fire till my eyes closed in a +doze. + +I continued dozing over the fire, until rousing myself I perceived +that the brands were nearly consumed, and I thought of retiring for +the night. I arose, and was about to enter my tent, when a thought +struck me. "Suppose," thought I, "that Isopel Berners should +return in the midst of the night, how dark and dreary would the +dingle appear without a fire! truly, I will keep up the fire, and I +will do more; I have no board to spread for her, but I will fill +the kettle, and heat it, so that, if she comes, I may be able to +welcome her with a cup of tea, for I know she loves tea." +Thereupon, I piled more wood upon the fire, and soon succeeded in +procuring a better blaze than before; then, taking the kettle, I +set out for the spring. On arriving at the mouth of the dingle, +which fronted the east, I perceived that Charles's wain was nearly +opposite to it, high above in the heavens, by which I knew that the +night was tolerably well advanced. The gypsy encampment lay before +me; all was hushed and still within it, and its inmates appeared to +be locked in slumber; as I advanced, however, the dogs, which were +fastened outside the tents, growled and barked; but presently +recognising me, they were again silent, some of them wagging their +tails. As I drew near a particular tent, I heard a female voice +say--"Some one is coming!" and, as I was about to pass it, the +cloth which formed the door was suddenly lifted up, and a black +head and part of a huge naked body protruded. It was the head and +upper part of the giant Tawno, who, according to the fashion of +gypsy men, lay next the door wrapped in his blanket; the blanket +had, however, fallen off, and the starlight shone clear on his +athletic tawny body, and was reflected from his large staring eyes. + +"It is only I, Tawno," said I, "going to fill the kettle, as it is +possible that Miss Berners may arrive this night." "Kos-ko," +drawled out Tawno, and replaced the curtain. "Good, do you call +it?" said the sharp voice of his wife; "there is no good in the +matter! if that young chap were not living with the rawnee in the +illegal and uncertificated line, he would not be getting up in the +middle of the night to fill her kettles." Passing on, I proceeded +to the spring, where I filled the kettle, and then returned to the +dingle. + +Placing the kettle upon the fire, I watched it till it began to +boil; then removing it from the top of the brands, I placed it +close beside the fire, and leaving it simmering, I retired to my +tent; where, having taken off my shoes, and a few of my garments, I +lay down on my palliasse, and was not long in falling asleep. I +believe I slept soundly for some time, thinking and dreaming of +nothing; suddenly, however, my sleep became disturbed, and the +subject of the patterans began to occupy my brain. I imagined that +I saw Ursula tracing her husband, Launcelot Lovel, by means of his +patterans; I imagined that she had considerable difficulty in doing +so; that she was occasionally interrupted by parish beadles and +constables, who asked her whither she was travelling, to whom she +gave various answers. Presently methought that, as she was passing +by a farm-yard, two fierce and savage dogs flew at her; I was in +great trouble, I remember, and wished to assist her, but could not, +for though I seemed to see her, I was still at a distance: and now +it appeared that she had escaped from the dogs, and was proceeding +with her cart along a gravelly path which traversed a wild moor; I +could hear the wheels grating amidst sand and gravel. The next +moment I was awake, and found myself sitting up in my tent; there +was a glimmer of light through the canvas caused by the fire; a +feeling of dread came over me, which was perhaps natural, on +starting suddenly from one's sleep in that wild lone place; I half +imagined that some one was nigh the tent; the idea made me rather +uncomfortable, and, to dissipate it, I lifted up the canvas of the +door and peeped out, and, lo! I had a distinct view of a tall +figure standing by the tent. "Who is that?" said I, whilst I felt +my blood rush to my heart. "It is I," said the voice of Isopel +Berners; "you little expected me, I dare say; well, sleep on, I do +not wish to disturb you." "But I was expecting you," said I, +recovering myself, "as you may see by the fire and kettle. I will +be with you in a moment." + +Putting on in haste the articles of dress which I had flung off, I +came out of the tent, and addressing myself to Isopel, who was +standing beside her cart, I said--"just as I was about to retire to +rest I thought it possible that you might come to-night, and got +everything in readiness for you. Now, sit down by the fire whilst +I lead the donkey and cart to the place where you stay; I will +unharness the animal, and presently come and join you." "I need +not trouble you," said Isopel; "I will go myself and see after my +things." "We will go together," said I, "and then return and have +some tea." Isopel made no objection, and in about half-an-hour we +had arranged everything at her quarters, I then hastened and +prepared tea. Presently Isopel rejoined me, bringing her stool; +she had divested herself of her bonnet, and her hair fell over her +shoulders; she sat down, and I poured out the beverage, handing her +a cup. "Have you made a long journey to-night?" said I. "A very +long one," replied Belle. "I have come nearly twenty miles since +six o'clock." "I believe I heard you coming in my sleep," said I; +"did the dogs above bark at you?" "Yes," said Isopel, "very +violently; did you think of me in your sleep?" "No," said I, "I +was thinking of Ursula and something she had told me." "When and +where was that?" said Isopel. "Yesterday evening," said I, +"beneath the dingle hedge." "Then you were talking with her +beneath the hedge?" "I was," said I, "but only upon gypsy matters. +Do you know, Belle, that she has just been married to Sylvester, so +that you need not think that she and I--" "She and you are quite +at liberty to sit where you please," said Isopel. "However, young +man," she continued, dropping her tone, which she had slightly +raised, "I believe what you said, that you were merely talking +about gypsy matters, and also what you were going to say, if it +was, as I suppose, that she and you had no particular +acquaintance." Isopel was now silent for some time. "What are you +thinking of?" said I. "I was thinking," said Belle, "how +exceedingly kind it was of you to get everything in readiness for +me, though you did not know that I should come." "I had a +presentiment that you would come," said I; "but you forget that I +have prepared the kettle for you before, though it was true that I +was then certain that you would come." "I had not forgotten your +doing so, young man," said Belle; "but I was beginning to think +that you were utterly selfish, caring for nothing but the +gratification of your own selfish whims." "I am very fond of +having my own way," said I, "but utterly selfish I am not, as I +dare say I shall frequently prove to you. You will often find the +kettle boiling when you come home." "Not heated by you," said +Isopel, with a sigh. "By whom else?" said I; "surely you are not +thinking of driving me away?" "You have as much right here as +myself," said Isopel, "as I have told you before; but I must be +going myself." "Well," said I, "we can go together; to tell you +the truth, I am rather tired of this place." "Our paths must be +separate," said Belle. "Separate," said I, "what do you mean? I +shan't let you go alone, I shall go with you; and you know the road +is as free to me as to you; besides, you can't think of parting +company with me, considering how much you would lose by doing so; +remember that you know scarcely anything of the Armenian language; +now, to learn Armenian from me would take you twenty years." + +Belle faintly smiled. "Come," said I, "take another cup of tea." +Belle took another cup of tea, and yet another; we had some +indifferent conversation, after which I arose and gave her donkey a +considerable feed of corn. Belle thanked me, shook me by the hand, +and then went to her own tabernacle, and I returned to mine. + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + + +Visit to the Landlord--His Mortifications--Hunter and his Clan-- +Resolution. + + +On the following morning, after breakfasting with Belle, who was +silent and melancholy, I left her in the dingle, and took a stroll +amongst the neighbouring lanes. After some time I thought I would +pay a visit to the landlord of the public-house, whom I had not +seen since the day when he communicated to me his intention of +changing his religion. I therefore directed my steps to the house, +and on entering it found the landlord standing in the kitchen. +Just then two mean-looking fellows, who had been drinking at one of +the tables, and who appeared to be the only customers in the house, +got up, brushed past the landlord, and saying in a surly tone, we +shall pay you some time or other, took their departure. "That's +the way they serve me now," said the landlord, with a sigh. "Do +you know those fellows," I demanded, "since you let them go away in +your debt?" "I know nothing about them," said the landlord, "save +that they are a couple of scamps." "Then why did you let them go +away without paying you?" said I. "I had not the heart to stop +them," said the landlord; "and, to tell you the truth, everybody +serves me so now, and I suppose they are right, for a child could +flog me." "Nonsense," said I, "behave more like a man, and with +respect to those two fellows run after them, I will go with you, +and if they refuse to pay the reckoning I will help you to shake +some money out of their clothes." "Thank you," said the landlord; +"but as they are gone, let them go on. What they have drank is not +of much consequence." "What is the matter with you?" said I, +staring at the landlord, who appeared strangely altered; his +features were wild and haggard, his formerly bluff cheeks were +considerably sunken in, and his figure had lost much of its +plumpness. "Have you changed your religion already, and has the +fellow in black commanded you to fast?" "I have not changed my +religion yet," said the landlord, with a kind of shudder; "I am to +change it publicly this day fortnight, and the idea of doing so--I +do not mind telling you--preys much upon my mind; moreover, the +noise of the thing has got abroad, and everybody is laughing at me, +and what's more, coming and drinking my beer, and going away +without paying for it, whilst I feel myself like one bewitched, +wishing but not daring to take my own part. Confound the fellow in +black, I wish I had never seen him! yet what can I do without him? +The brewer swears that unless I pay him fifty pounds within a +fortnight he'll send a distress warrant into the house, and take +all I have. My poor niece is crying in the room above; and I am +thinking of going into the stable and hanging myself; and perhaps +it's the best thing I can do, for it's better to hang myself before +selling my soul than afterwards, as I'm sure I should, like Judas +Iscariot, whom my poor niece, who is somewhat religiously inclined, +has been talking to me about." "I wish I could assist you," said +I, "with money, but that is quite out of my power. However, I can +give you a piece of advice. Don't change your religion by any +means; you can't hope to prosper if you do; and if the brewer +chooses to deal hardly with you, let him. Everybody would respect +you ten times more provided you allowed yourself to be turned into +the roads rather than change your religion, than if you got fifty +pounds for renouncing it." "I am half inclined to take your +advice," said the landlord, "only, to tell you the truth, I feel +quite low, without any heart in me." "Come into the bar," said I, +"and let us have something together--you need not be afraid of my +not paying for what I order." + +We went into the bar-room, where the landlord and I discussed +between us two bottles of strong ale, which he said were part of +the last six which he had in his possession. At first he wished to +drink sherry, but I begged him to do no such thing, telling him +that sherry would do him no good under the present circumstances; +nor, indeed, to the best of my belief, under any, it being of all +wines the one for which I entertained the most contempt. The +landlord allowed himself to be dissuaded, and, after a glass or two +of ale, confessed that sherry was a sickly, disagreeable drink, and +that he had merely been in the habit of taking it from an idea he +had that it was genteel. Whilst quaffing our beverage, he gave me +an account of the various mortifications to which he had of late +been subject, dwelling with particular bitterness on the conduct of +Hunter, who he said came every night and mouthed him, and +afterwards went away without paying for what he had drank or +smoked, in which conduct he was closely imitated by a clan of +fellows who constantly attended him. After spending several hours +at the public-house I departed, not forgetting to pay for the two +bottles of ale. The landlord, before I went, shaking me by the +hand, declared that he had now made up his mind to stick to his +religion at all hazards, the more especially as he was convinced he +should derive no good by giving it up. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + + +Preparations for the Fair--The Last Lesson--The Verb Siriel. + + +It might be about five in the evening, when I reached the gypsy +encampment. Here I found Mr. Petulengro, Tawno Chikno, Sylvester, +and others in a great bustle, clipping and trimming certain ponies +and old horses which they had brought with them. On inquiring of +Jasper the reason of their being so engaged, he informed me that +they were getting the horses ready for a fair, which was to be held +on the morrow, at a place some miles distant, at which they should +endeavour to dispose of them, adding--"Perhaps, brother, you will +go with us, provided you have nothing better to do?" Not having +any particular engagement, I assured him that I should have great +pleasure in being of the party. It was agreed that we should start +early on the following morning. Thereupon I descended into the +dingle. Belle was sitting before the fire, at which the kettle was +boiling. "Were you waiting for me?" I inquired. "Yes," said +Belle, "I thought that you would come, and I waited for you." +"That was very kind," said I. "Not half so kind," said she, "as it +was of you to get everything ready for me in the dead of last +night, when there was scarcely a chance of my coming." The tea- +things were brought forward, and we sat down. "Have you been far?" +said Belle. "Merely to that public-house," said I, "to which you +directed me on the second day of our acquaintance." "Young men +should not make a habit of visiting public-houses," said Belle, +"they are bad places." "They may be so to some people," said I, +"but I do not think the worst public-house in England could do me +any harm." "Perhaps you are so bad already," said Belle, with a +smile, "that it would be impossible to spoil you." "How dare you +catch at my words?" said I; "come, I will make you pay for doing +so--you shall have this evening the longest lesson in Armenian +which I have yet inflicted upon you." "You may well say +inflicted," said Belle, "but pray spare me. I do not wish to hear +anything about Armenian, especially this evening." "Why this +evening?" said I. Belle made no answer. "I will not spare you," +said I; "this evening I intend to make you conjugate an Armenian +verb." "Well, be it so," said Belle; "for this evening you shall +command." "To command is hramahyel," said I. "Ram her ill, +indeed," said Belle; "I do not wish to begin with that." "No," +said I, "as we have come to the verbs, we will begin regularly; +hramahyel is a verb of the second conjugation. We will begin with +the first." "First of all tell me," said Belle, "what a verb is?" +"A part of speech," said I, "which, according to the dictionary, +signifies some action or passion; for example, I command you, or I +hate you." "I have given you no cause to hate me," said Belle, +looking me sorrowfully in the face. + +"I was merely giving two examples," said I, "and neither was +directed at you. In those examples, to command and hate are verbs. +Belle, in Armenian there are four conjugations of verbs; the first +ends in al, the second in yel, the third in oul, and the fourth in +il. Now, have you understood me?" + +"I am afraid, indeed, it will all end ill," said Belle. + +"Hold your tongue," said I, "or you will make me lose my patience." +"You have already made me nearly lose mine," said Belle. "Let us +have no unprofitable interruptions," said I; "the conjugations of +the Armenian verbs are neither so numerous nor so difficult as the +declensions of the nouns; hear that, and rejoice. Come, we will +begin with the verb hntal, a verb of the first conjugation, which +signifies to rejoice. Come along; hntam, I rejoice; hntas, thou +rejoicest; why don't you follow, Belle?" + +"I am sure I don't rejoice, whatever you may do," said Belle. "The +chief difficulty, Belle," said I, "that I find in teaching you the +Armenian grammar, proceeds from your applying to yourself and me +every example I give. Rejoice, in this instance, is merely an +example of an Armenian verb of the first conjugation, and has no +more to do with your rejoicing than lal, which is, also a verb of +the first conjugation, and which signifies to weep, would have to +do with your weeping, provided I made you conjugate it. Come +along; hntam, I rejoice; hntas, thou rejoicest; hnta, he rejoices; +hntamk we rejoice: now, repeat those words." + +"I can't," said Belle, "they sound more like the language of horses +than human beings. Do you take me for--?" "For what?" said I. +Belle was silent. "Were you going to say mare?" said I. "Mare! +mare! by the bye, do you know, Belle, that mare in old English +stands for woman; and that when we call a female an evil mare, the +strict meaning of the term is merely a bad woman. So if I were to +call you a mare without prefixing bad, you must not be offended." +"But I should though," said Belle. "I was merely attempting to +make you acquainted with a philological fact," said I. "If mare, +which in old English, and likewise in vulgar English, signifies a +woman, sounds the same as mare, which in modern and polite English +signifies a female horse, I can't help it. There is no such +confusion of sounds in Armenian, not, at least, in the same +instance. Belle, in Armenian, woman is ghin, the same word, by the +by, as our queen, whereas mare is madagh tzi, which signifies a +female horse; and perhaps you will permit me to add, that a hard- +mouthed jade is, in Armenian, madagh tzi hsdierah." + +"I can't bear this much longer," said Belle. "Keep yourself +quiet," said I; "I wish to be gentle with you; and to convince you, +we will skip hntal, and also for the present verbs of the first +conjugation and proceed to the second. Belle, I will now select +for you to conjugate the prettiest verb in Armenian; not only of +the second, but also of all the four conjugations; that verb is +siriel. Here is the present tense:- siriem, siries, sire, siriemk, +sirek, sirien. You observe that it runs on just in the same manner +as hntal, save and except that the e is substituted for a; and it +will be as well to tell you that almost the only difference between +the second, third, and fourth conjugation, and the first, is the +substituting in the present, preterite and other tenses e or ou, or +i for a; so you see that the Armenian verbs are by no means +difficult. Come on, Belle, and say siriem." Belle hesitated. +"Pray oblige me, Belle, by saying siriem!" Belle still appeared to +hesitate. "You must admit, Belle, that it is much softer than +hntam." "It is so," said Belle; "and to oblige you I will say +siriem." "Very well indeed, Belle," said I. "No vartabied, or +doctor, could have pronounced it better; and now, to show you how +verbs act upon pronouns in Armenian, I will say siriem zkiez. +Please to repeat siriem zkiez!" "Siriem zkiez!" said Belle; "that +last word is very hard to say." "Sorry that you think so, Belle," +said I. "Now please to say siria zis." Belle did so. +"Exceedingly well," said I. "Now say, yerani the sireir zis." +"Yerani the sireir zis," said Belle. "Capital!" said I; "you have +now said, I love you--love me--ah! would that you would love me!" + +"And I have said all these things?" said Belle. "Yes," said I; +"you have said them in Armenian." "I would have said them in no +language that I understood," said Belle; "and it was very wrong of +you to take advantage of my ignorance, and make me say such +things." "Why so?" said I; "if you said them, I said them too." +"You did so," said Belle; "but I believe you were merely bantering +and jeering." "As I told you before, Belle," said I, "the chief +difficulty which I find in teaching you Armenian proceeds from your +persisting in applying to yourself and me every example I give." +"Then you meant nothing after all," said Belle, raising her voice. +"Let us proceed," said I; "sirietsi, I loved." "You never loved +any one but yourself," said Belle; "and what's more--" +"Sirietsits, I will love," said I; "sirietsies, thou wilt love." +"Never one so thoroughly heartless," said Belle. "I tell you what, +Belle, you are becoming intolerable, but we will change the verb; +or rather I will now proceed to tell you here, that some of the +Armenian conjugations have their anomalies; one species of these I +wish to bring before your notice. As old Villotte says--from whose +work I first contrived to pick up the rudiments of Armenian--'Est +verborum transitivorum, quorum infinitivus--' but I forgot, you +don't understand Latin. He says there are certain transitive +verbs, whose infinitive is in outsaniel; the preterite in outsi; +the imperative in one; for example--parghatsout-saniem, I irritate- +-" + +"You do, you do," said Belle; "and it will be better for both of +us, if you leave off doing so." + +"You would hardly believe, Belle," said I, "that the Armenian is in +some respects closely connected with the Irish, but so it is; for +example, that word parghatsout-saniem is evidently derived from the +same root as feargaim, which, in Irish, is as much as to say I +vex." + +"You do, indeed," said Belle, sobbing. + +"But how do you account for it?" + +"O man, man!" said Belle, bursting into tears, "for what purpose do +you ask a poor ignorant girl such a question, unless it be to vex +and irritate her? If you wish to display your learning, do so to +the wise and instructed, and not to me, who can scarcely read or +write. Oh, leave off your nonsense; yet I know you will not do so, +for it is the breath of your nostrils! I could have wished we +should have parted in kindness, but you will not permit it. I have +deserved better at your hands than such treatment. The whole time +we have kept company together in this place, I have scarcely had +one kind word from you, but the strangest--" and here the voice of +Belle was drowned in her sobs. + +"I am sorry to see you take on so, dear Belle," said I. "I really +have given you no cause to be so unhappy; surely teaching you a +little Armenian was a very innocent kind of diversion." + +"Yes, but you went on so long, and in such a strange way, and made +me repeat such strange examples, as you call them, that I could not +bear it." + +"Why, to tell you the truth, Belle, it's just my way; and I have +dealt with you just as I would with--" + +"A hard-mouthed jade," said Belle, "and you practising your horse- +witchery upon her. I have been of an unsubdued spirit, I +acknowledge, but I was always kind to you; and if you have made me +cry, it's a poor thing to boast of." + +"Boast of!" said I; "a pretty thing indeed to boast of; I had no +idea of making you cry. Come, I beg your pardon; what more can I +do? Come, cheer up, Belle. You were talking of parting; don't let +us part, but depart, and that together." + +"Our ways lie different," said Belle. + +"I don't see why they should," said I. "Come, let us he off to +America together." + +"To America together?" said Belle, looking full at me. + +"Yes," said I; "where we will settle down in some forest, and +conjugate the verb siriel conjugally." + +"Conjugally?" said Belle. + +"Yes," said I; "as man and wife in America, air yew ghin." + +"You are jesting, as usual," said Belle. + +"Not I, indeed. Come, Belle, make up your mind, and let us be off +to America; and leave priests, humbug, learning, and languages +behind us." + +"I don't think you are jesting," said Belle; "but I can hardly +entertain your offers; however, young man, I thank you." + +"You had better make up your mind at once," said I, "and let us be +off. I shan't make a bad husband, I assure you. Perhaps you think +I am not worthy of you? To convince you, Belle, that I am, I am +ready to try a fall with you this moment upon the grass. +Brynhilda, the valkyrie, swore that no one should ever marry her +who could not fling her down. Perhaps you have done the same. The +man who eventually married her, got a friend of his, who was called +Sygurd, the serpent-killer, to wrestle with her, disguising him in +his own armour. Sygurd flung her down, and won her for his friend, +though he loved her himself. I shall not use a similar deceit, nor +employ Jasper Petulengro to personate me--so get up, Belle, and I +will do my best to fling you down." + +"I require no such thing of you, or anybody," said Belle; "you are +beginning to look rather wild." + +"I every now and then do," said I; "come, Belle, what do you say?" + +"I will say nothing at present on the subject," said Belle, "I must +have time to consider." + +"Just as you please," said I, "to-morrow I go to a fair with Mr. +Petulengro, perhaps you will consider whilst I am away. Come, +Belle, let us have some more tea. I wonder whether we shall be +able to procure tea as good as this in the American forest." + + + +CHAPTER XV + + + +The Dawn of Day--The Last Farewell--Departure for the Fair--The +Fine Horse--Return to the Dingle--No Isopel. + + +It was about the dawn of day when I was awakened by the voice of +Mr. Petulengro shouting from the top of the dingle, and bidding me +get up. I arose instantly, and dressed myself for the expedition +to the fair. On leaving my tent, I was surprised to observe Belle, +entirely dressed, standing close to her own little encampment. +"Dear me," said I, "I little expected to find you up so early. I +suppose Jasper's call awakened you, as it did me." "I merely lay +down in my things," said Belle, "and have not slept during the +night." "And why did you not take off your things and go to +sleep?" said I. "I did not undress," said Belle, "because I wished +to be in readiness to bid you farewell when you departed; and as +for sleeping, I could not." "Well, God bless you!" said I, taking +Belle by the hand. Belle made no answer, and I observed that her +hand was very cold. "What is the matter with you?" said I, looking +her in the face. Belle looked at me for a moment in the eyes--and +then cast down her own--her features were very pale. "You are +really unwell," said I, "I had better not go to the fair, but stay +here, and take care of you." "No," said Belle, "pray go, I am not +unwell." "Then go to your tent," said I, "and do not endanger your +health by standing abroad in the raw morning air. God bless you, +Belle. I shall be home to-night, by which time I expect you will +have made up your mind; if not, another lesson in Armenian, however +late the hour be." I then wrung Belle's hand, and ascended to the +plain above. + +I found the Romany party waiting for me, and everything in +readiness for departing. Mr. Petulengro and Tawno Chikno were +mounted on two old horses. The rest, who intended to go to the +fair, amongst whom were two or three women, were on foot. On +arriving at the extremity of the plain, I looked towards the +dingle. Isopel Berners stood at the mouth, the beams of the early +morning sun shone full on her noble face and figure. I waved my +hand towards her. She slowly lifted up her right arm. I turned +away, and never saw Isopel Berners again. + +My companions and myself proceeded on our way. In about two hours +we reached the place where the fair was to be held. After +breakfasting on bread and cheese and ale behind a broken stone +wall, we drove our animals to the fair. The fair was a common +cattle and horse fair: there was little merriment going on, but +there was no lack of business. By about two o'clock in the +afternoon, Mr. Petulengro and his people had disposed of their +animals at what they conceived very fair prices--they were all in +high spirits, and Jasper proposed to adjourn to a public-house. As +we were proceeding to one, a very fine horse, led by a jockey, made +its appearance on the ground. Mr. Petulengro stopped short, and +looked at it stedfastly: "Fino covar dove odoy sas miro--a fine +thing were that if it were but mine!" he exclaimed. "If you covet +it," said I, "why do you not purchase it?" "We low 'Gyptians never +buy animals of that description; if we did we could never sell +them, and most likely should be had up as horse-stealers." "Then +why did you say just now, 'It were a fine thing if it were but +yours?'" said I. "We 'Gyptians always say so when we see anything +that we admire. An animal like that is not intended for a little +hare like me, but for some grand gentleman like yourself. I say, +brother, do you buy that horse!" "How should I buy the horse, you +foolish person?" said I. "Buy the horse, brother," said Mr. +Petulengro, "if you have not the money I can lend it you, though I +be of lower Egypt." "You talk nonsense," said I; "however, I wish +you would ask the man the price of it." Mr. Petulengro, going up +to the jockey, inquired the price of the horse--the man, looking at +him scornfully, made no reply. "Young man," said I, going up to +the jockey, "do me the favour to tell me the price of that horse, +as I suppose it is to sell." The jockey, who was a surly-looking +man, of about fifty, looked at me for a moment, then, after some +hesitation, said, laconically, "Seventy." "Thank you," said I, and +turned away. "Buy that horse," said Mr. Petulengro, coming after +me; "the dook tells me that in less than three months he will be +sold for twice seventy." "I will have nothing to do with him," +said I; "besides, Jasper, I don't like his tail. Did you observe +what a mean scrubby tail he has?" "What a fool you are, brother," +said Mr. Petulengro; "that very tail of his shows his breeding. No +good bred horse ever yet carried a fine tail--'tis your scrubby- +tailed horses that are your out-and-outers. Did you ever hear of +Syntax, brother? That tail of his puts me in mind of Syntax. +Well, I say nothing more, have your own way--all I wonder at is, +that a horse like him was ever brought to such a fair of dog cattle +as this." + +We then made the best of our way to a public-house, where we had +some refreshment. I then proposed returning to the encampment, but +Mr. Petulengro declined, and remained drinking with his companions +till about six o'clock in the evening, when various jockeys from +the fair came in. After some conversation a jockey proposed a game +of cards; and in a little time, Mr. Petulengro and another gypsy +sat down to play a game of cards with two of the jockeys. + +Though not much acquainted with cards, I soon conceived a suspicion +that the jockeys were cheating Mr. Petulengro and his companion, I +therefore called Mr. Petulengro aside, and gave him a hint to that +effect. Mr. Petulengro, however, instead of thanking me, told me +to mind my own bread and butter, and forthwith returned to his +game. I continued watching the players for some hours. The +gypsies lost considerably, and I saw clearly that the jockeys were +cheating them most confoundedly. I therefore once more called Mr. +Petulengro aside, and told him that the jockeys were cheating him, +conjuring him to return to the encampment. Mr. Petulengro, who was +by this time somewhat the worse for liquor, now fell into a +passion, swore several oaths, and asking me who had made me a Moses +over him and his brethren, told me to return to the encampment by +myself. Incensed at the unworthy return which my well-meant words +had received, I forthwith left the house, and having purchased a +few articles of provision, I set out for the dingle alone. It was +a dark night when I reached it, and descending I saw the glimmer of +a fire from the depths of the dingle; my heart beat with fond +anticipation of a welcome. "Isopel Berners is waiting for me," +said I, "and the first words that I shall hear from her lips is +that she has made up her mind. We shall go to America, and be so +happy together." On reaching the bottom of the dingle, however, I +saw seated near the fire, beside which stood the kettle simmering, +not Isopel Berners, but a gypsy girl, who told me that Miss Berners +when she went away had charged her to keep up the fire, and have +the kettle boiling against my arrival. Startled at these words, I +inquired at what hour Isopel had left, and whither she was gone, +and was told that she had left the dingle, with her cart, about two +hours after I departed; but where she was gone she, the girl, did +not know. I then asked whether she had left no message, and the +girl replied that she had left none, but had merely given +directions about the kettle and fire, putting, at the same time, +six-pence into her hand. "Very strange," thought I; then +dismissing the gypsy girl I sat down by the fire. I had no wish +for tea, but sat looking on the embers, wondering what could be the +motive of the sudden departure of Isopel. "Does she mean to +return?" thought I to myself. "Surely she means to return," Hope +replied, "or she would not have gone away without leaving any +message"--"and yet she could scarcely mean to return," muttered +Foreboding, "or she assuredly would have left some message with the +girl." I then thought to myself what a hard thing it would be, if, +after having made up my mind to assume the yoke of matrimony, I +should be disappointed of the woman of my choice. "Well, after +all," thought I, "I can scarcely be disappointed; if such an ugly +scoundrel as Sylvester had no difficulty in getting such a nice +wife as Ursula, surely I, who am not a tenth part so ugly, cannot +fail to obtain the hand of Isopel Berners, uncommonly fine damsel +though she be. Husbands do not grow upon hedgerows; she is merely +gone after a little business and will return to-morrow." + +Comforted in some degree by these hopeful imaginings, I retired to +my tent, and went to sleep. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + + +Gloomy Forebodings--The Postman's Mother--The Letter--Bears and +Barons--The Best of Advice. + + +Nothing occurred to me of any particular moment during the +following day. Isopel Berners did not return; but Mr. Petulengro +and his companions came home from the fair early in the morning. +When I saw him, which was about midday, I found him with his face +bruised and swelled. It appeared that, some time after I had left +him, he himself perceived that the jockeys with whom he was playing +cards were cheating him and his companion; a quarrel ensued, which +terminated in a fight between Mr. Petulengro and one of the +jockeys, which lasted some time, and in which Mr. Petulengro, +though he eventually came off victor, was considerably beaten. His +bruises, in conjunction with his pecuniary loss, which amounted to +about seven pounds, were the cause of his being much out of humour; +before night, however, he had returned to his usual philosophic +frame of mind, and, coming up to me as I was walking about, +apologized for his behaviour on the preceding day, and assured me +that he was determined, from that time forward, never to quarrel +with a friend for giving him good advice. + +Two more days passed, and still Isopel Berners did not return. +Gloomy thoughts and forebodings filled my mind. During the day I +wandered about the neighbouring roads in the hopes of catching an +early glimpse of her and her returning vehicle; and at night lay +awake, tossing about on my hard couch, listening to the rustle of +every leaf, and occasionally thinking that I heard the sound of her +wheels upon the distant road. Once at midnight, just as I was +about to fall into unconsciousness, I suddenly started up, for I +was convinced that I heard the sound of wheels. I listened most +anxiously, and the sound of wheels striking against stones was +certainly plain enough. "She comes at last," thought I, and for a +few moments I felt as if a mountain had been removed from my +breast;--"here she comes at last, now, how shall I receive her? +Oh," thought I, "I will receive her rather coolly, just as if I was +not particularly anxious about her--that's the way to manage these +women." The next moment the sound became very loud, rather too +loud, I thought, to proceed from her wheels, and then by degrees +became fainter. Rushing out of my tent, I hurried up the path to +the top of the dingle, where I heard the sound distinctly enough, +but it was going from me, and evidently proceeded from something +much larger than the cart of Isopel. I could, moreover, hear the +stamping of a horse's hoof at a lumbering trot. Those only whose +hopes have been wrought up to a high pitch, and then suddenly cast +down, can imagine what I felt at that moment; and yet when I +returned to my lonely tent, and lay down on my hard pallet, the +voice of conscience told me that the misery I was then undergoing I +had fully merited, for the unkind manner in which I had intended to +receive her, when for a brief moment I supposed that she had +returned. + +It was on the morning after this affair, and the fourth, if I +forget not, from the time of Isopel's departure, that, as I was +seated on my stone at the bottom of the dingle, getting my +breakfast, I heard an unknown voice from the path above--apparently +that of a person descending--exclaim, "Here's a strange place to +bring a letter to;" and presently an old woman, with a belt round +her middle, to which was attached a leathern bag, made her +appearance, and stood before me. + +"Well, if I ever!" said she, as she looked about her. "My good +gentlewoman," said I, "pray what may you please to want?" +"Gentlewoman!" said the old dame, "please to want--well, I call +that speaking civilly, at any rate. It is true, civil words cost +nothing; nevertheless, we do not always get them. What I please to +want is to deliver a letter to a young man in this place; perhaps +you be he?" "What's the name on the letter?" said I, getting up, +and going to her. "There's no name upon it," said she, taking a +letter out of her scrip, and looking at it. "It is directed to the +young man in Mumper's Dingle." "Then it is for me, I make no +doubt," said I, stretching out my hand to take it. "Please to pay +me ninepence first," said the old woman. "However," said she, +after a moment's thought, "civility is civility, and, being rather +a scarce article, should meet with some return. Here's the letter, +young man, and I hope you will pay for it; for if you do not I must +pay the postage myself." "You are the postwoman, I suppose," said +I, as I took the letter. "I am the postman's mother," said the old +woman; "but as he has a wide beat, I help him as much as I can, and +I generally carry letters to places like this, to which he is +afraid to come himself." "You say the postage is ninepence," said +I, "here's a shilling." "Well, I call that honourable," said the +old woman, taking the shilling, and putting it into her pocket-- +"here's your change, young man," said she, offering me threepence. +"Pray keep that for yourself," said I; "you deserve it for your +trouble." "Well, I call that genteel," said the old woman; "and as +one good turn deserves another, since you look as if you couldn't +read, I will read your letter for you. Let's see it; it's from +some young woman or other, I dare say." "Thank you," said I, "but +I can read." "All the better for you," said the old woman; "your +being able to read will frequently save you a penny, for that's the +charge I generally make for reading letters; though, as you behaved +so genteelly to me, I should have charged you nothing. Well, if +you can read, why don't you open the letter, instead of keeping it +hanging between your finger and thumb?" "I am in no hurry to open +it," said I, with a sigh. The old woman looked at me for a moment- +-"Well, young man," said she, "there are some--especially those who +can read--who don't like to open their letters when anybody is by, +more especially when they come from young women. Well, I won't +intrude upon you, but leave you alone with your letter. I wish it +may contain something pleasant. God bless you," and with these +words she departed. + +I sat down on my stone, with my letter in my hand. I knew +perfectly well that it could have come from no other person than +Isopel Berners; but what did the letter contain? I guessed +tolerably well what its purport was--an eternal farewell! yet I was +afraid to open the letter, lest my expectation should be confirmed. +There I sat with the letter, putting off the evil moment as long as +possible. At length I glanced at the direction, which was written +in a fine bold hand, and was directed, as the old woman had said, +to the young man in "Mumpers' Dingle," with the addition, near -, +in the county of-- Suddenly the idea occurred to me, that, after +all, the letter might not contain an eternal farewell; and that +Isopel might have written, requesting me to join her. Could it be +so? "Alas! no," presently said Foreboding. At last I became +ashamed of my weakness. The letter must be opened sooner or later. +Why not at once? So as the bather who, for a considerable time, +has stood shivering on the bank, afraid to take the decisive +plunge, suddenly takes it, I tore open the letter almost before I +was aware. I had no sooner done so than a paper fell out. I +examined it; it contained a lock of bright flaxen hair. "This is +no good sign," said I, as I thrust the lock and paper into my +bosom, and proceeded to read the letter, which ran as follows: - + + +"TO THE YOUNG MAN IN MUMPERS' DINGLE. + +"SIR,--I send these lines, with the hope and trust that they will +find you well, even as I am myself at this moment, and in much +better spirits, for my own are not such as I could wish they were, +being sometimes rather hysterical and vapourish, and at other +times, and most often, very low. I am at a sea-port, and am just +going on shipboard; and when you get these I shall be on the salt +waters, on my way to a distant country, and leaving my own behind +me, which I do not expect ever to see again. + +"And now, young man, I will, in the first place, say something +about the manner in which I quitted you. It must have seemed +somewhat singular to you that I went away without taking any leave, +or giving you the slightest hint that I was going; but I did not do +so without considerable reflection. I was afraid that I should not +be able to support a leave-taking; and as you had said that you +were determined to go wherever I did, I thought it best not to tell +you at all; for I did not think it advisable that you should go +with me, and I wished to have no dispute. + +"In the second place, I wish to say something about an offer of +wedlock which you made me; perhaps, young man, had you made it at +the first period of our acquaintance, I should have accepted it, +but you did not, and kept putting off and putting off, and behaving +in a very strange manner, till I could stand your conduct no +longer, but determined upon leaving you and Old England, which last +step I had been long thinking about; so when you made your offer at +last, everything was arranged--my cart and donkey engaged to be +sold--and the greater part of my things disposed of. However, +young man, when you did make it, I frankly tell you that I had half +a mind to accept it; at last, however, after very much +consideration, I thought it best to leave you for ever, because, +for some time past, I had become almost convinced, that though with +a wonderful deal of learning, and exceedingly shrewd in some +things, you were--pray don't be offended--at the root mad! and +though mad people, I have been told, sometimes make very good +husbands, I was unwilling that your friends, if you had any, should +say that Belle Berners, the workhouse girl, took advantage of your +infirmity; for there is no concealing that I was born and bred up +in a workhouse; notwithstanding that, my blood is better than your +own, and as good as the best; you having yourself told me that my +name is a noble name, and once, if I mistake not, that it was the +same word as baron, which is the same thing as bear; and that to be +called in old times a bear was considered a great compliment--the +bear being a mighty strong animal, on which account our forefathers +called all their great fighting-men barons, which is the same as +bears. + +"However, setting matters of blood and family entirely aside, many +thanks to you, young man, from poor Belle, for the honour you did +her in making that same offer; for, after all, it is an honour to +receive an honourable offer, which she could see clearly yours was, +with no floriness nor chaff in it; but, on the contrary, entire +sincerity. She assures you that she shall always bear it and +yourself in mind, whether on land or water; and as a proof of the +good-will she bears to you, she sends you a lock of the hair which +she wears on her head, which you were often looking at, and were +pleased to call flax, which word she supposes you meant as a +compliment, even as the old people meant to pass a compliment to +their great folks, when they called them bears; though she cannot +help thinking that they might have found an animal as strong as a +bear, and somewhat less uncouth, to call their great folks after: +even as she thinks yourself, amongst your great store of words, +might have found something a little more genteel to call her hair +after than flax, which, though strong and useful, is rather a +coarse and common kind of article. + +"And as another proof of the good-will she bears to you, she sends +you, along with the lock, a piece of advice, which is worth all the +hair in the world, to say nothing of the flax. + +"FEAR GOD, and take your own part. There's Bible in that, young +man: see how Moses feared God, and how he took his own part +against everybody who meddled with him. And see how David feared +God, and took his own part against all the bloody enemies which +surrounded him--so fear God, young man, and never give in! The +world can bully, and is fond, provided it sees a man in a kind of +difficulty, of getting about him, calling him coarse names, and +even going so far as to hustle him: but the world, like all +bullies, carries a white feather in its tail, and no sooner sees +the man taking off his coat, and offering to fight its best, than +it scatters here and there, and is always civil to him afterwards. +So when folks are disposed to ill-treat you, young man, say, 'Lord +have mercy upon me!' and then tip them to Long Melford, which, as +the saying goes, there is nothing comparable for shortness all the +world over; and these last words, young man, are the last you will +ever have from her who is nevertheless, + +Your affectionate female servant, + +ISOPEL BERNERS. + + +After reading the letter I sat for some time motionless, holding it +in my hand. The daydream in which I had been a little time before +indulging, of marrying Isopel Berners, of going with her to +America, and having by her a large progeny, who were to assist me +in felling trees, cultivating the soil, and who would take care of +me when I was old, was now thoroughly dispelled. Isopel had +deserted me, and was gone to America by herself, where, perhaps, +she would marry some other person, and would bear him a progeny, +who would do for him what in my dream I had hoped my progeny by her +would do for me. Then the thought came into my head that though +she was gone, I might follow her to America, but then I thought +that if I did I might not find her; America was a very large place, +and I did not know the port to which she was bound; but I could +follow her to the port from which she had sailed, and there +possibly discover the port to which she was bound; but I did not +even know the port from which she had set out, for Isopel had not +dated her letter from any place. Suddenly it occurred to me that +the post-mark on the letter would tell me from whence it came, so I +forthwith looked at the back of the letter, and in the post-mark +read the name of a well-known and not very distant sea-port. I +then knew with tolerable certainty the port where she had embarked, +and I almost determined to follow her, but I almost instantly +determined to do no such thing. Isopel Berners had abandoned me, +and I would not follow her; "Perhaps," whispered Pride, "if I +overtook her, she would only despise me for running after her;" and +it also told me pretty roundly, provided I ran after her, whether I +overtook her or not, I should heartily despise myself. So I +determined not to follow Isopel Berners; I took her lock of hair, +and looked at it, then put it in her letter, which I folded up and +carefully stowed away, resolved to keep both for ever, but I +determined not to follow her. Two or three times, however, during +the day, I wavered in my determination, and was again and again +almost tempted to follow her, but every succeeding time the +temptation was fainter. In the evening I left the dingle, and sat +down with Mr. Petulengro and his family by the door of his tent; +Mr. Petulengro soon began talking of the letter which I had +received in the morning. "Is it not from Miss Berners, brother?" +said he. I told him it was. "Is she coming back, brother?" +"Never," said I; "she is gone to America, and has deserted me." "I +always knew that you two were never destined for each other," said +he. "How did you know that?" I inquired. "The dook told me so, +brother; you are born to be a great traveller." "Well," said I, +"if I had gone with her to America, as I was thinking of doing, I +should have been a great traveller." "You are to travel in another +direction, brother," said he. "I wish you would tell me all about +my future wanderings," said I. "I can't, brother," said Mr. +Petulengro, "there's a power of clouds before my eye." "You are a +poor seer, after all," said I; and getting up, I retired to my +dingle and my tent, where I betook myself to my bed, and there, +knowing the worst, and being no longer agitated by apprehension, +nor agonized by expectation, I was soon buried in a deep slumber, +the first which I had fallen into for several nights. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + + +The Public-house--Landlord on His Legs Again--A Blow in Season--The +Way of the World--The Grateful Mind--The Horse's Neigh. + + +It was rather late on the following morning when I awoke. At first +I was almost unconscious of what had occurred on the preceding day; +recollection, however, by degrees returned, and I felt a deep +melancholy coming over me, but perfectly aware that no advantage +could be derived from the indulgence of such a feeling, I sprang +up, prepared my breakfast, which I ate with a tolerable appetite, +and then left the dingle, and betook myself to the gypsy +encampment, where I entered into discourse with various Romanies, +both male and female. After some time, feeling myself in better +spirits, I determined to pay another visit to the landlord of the +public-house. From the position of his affairs when I had last +visited him I entertained rather gloomy ideas with respect to his +present circumstances. I imagined that I should either find him +alone in his kitchen smoking a wretched pipe, or in company with +some surly bailiff or his follower, whom his friend the brewer had +sent into the house in order to take possession of his effects. + +Nothing more entirely differing from either of these anticipations +could have presented itself to my view than what I saw about one +o'clock in the afternoon, when I entered the house. I had come, +though somewhat in want of consolation myself, to offer any +consolation which was at my command to my acquaintance Catchpole, +and perhaps like many other people who go to a house with "drops of +compassion trembling on their eyelids," I felt rather disappointed +at finding that no compassion was necessary. The house was +thronged with company, and cries for ale and porter, hot brandy and +water, cold gin and water, were numerous; moreover, no desire to +receive and not to pay for the landlord's liquids was manifested-- +on the contrary, everybody seemed disposed to play the most +honourable part: "Landlord, here's the money for this glass of +brandy and water--do me the favour to take it; all right, remember +I have paid you." "Landlord, here's the money for the pint of +half-and-half-fourpence halfpenny, ain't it?--here's sixpence; keep +the change--confound the change!" The landlord, assisted by his +niece, bustled about; his brow erect, his cheeks plumped out, and +all his features exhibiting a kind of surly satisfaction. Wherever +he moved, marks of the most cordial amity were shown him, hands +were thrust out to grasp his, nor were looks of respect, +admiration, nay, almost of adoration, wanting. I observed one +fellow, as the landlord advanced, take the pipe out of his mouth, +and gaze upon him with a kind of grin of wonder, probably much the +same as his ancestor, the Saxon lout of old, put on when he saw his +idol Thur, dressed in a new kirtle. To avoid the press, I got into +a corner, where on a couple of chairs sat two respectable-looking +individuals, whether farmers or sow-gelders, I know not, but highly +respectable-looking, who were discoursing about the landlord. +"Such another," said one, "you will not find in a summer's day." +"No, nor in the whole of England," said the other. "Tom of +Hopton," said the first: "ah! Tom of Hopton," echoed the other; +"the man who could beat Tom of Hopton could beat the world." "I +glory in him," said the first. "So do I," said the second, "I'll +back him against the world. Let me hear any one say anything +against him, and if I don't--" then, looking at me, he added, "have +you anything to say against him, young man?" "Not a word," said I, +"save that he regularly puts me out." "He'll put any one out," +said the man, "any one out of conceit with himself;" then, lifting +a mug to his mouth, he added, with a hiccough, "I drink his +health." Presently the landlord, as he moved about, observing me, +stopped short: "Ah!" said he, "are you here? I am glad to see +you, come this way. Stand back," said he to his company, as I +followed him to the bar, "stand back for me and this gentleman." +Two or three young fellows were in the bar, seemingly sporting +yokels, drinking sherry and smoking. "Come, gentlemen," said the +landlord, "clear the bar, I must have a clear bar for me and my +friend here." "Landlord, what will you take," said one, "a glass +of sherry? I know you like it." "- sherry and you too," said the +landlord, "I want neither sherry nor yourself; didn't you hear what +I told you?" "All right, old fellow," said the other, shaking the +landlord by the hand, "all right, don't wish to intrude--but I +suppose when you and your friend have done, I may come in again;" +then, with a "sarvant, sir," to me, he took himself into the +kitchen, followed by the rest of the sporting yokels. + +Thereupon the landlord, taking a bottle of ale from a basket, +uncorked it, and pouring the contents into two large glasses, +handed me one, and motioning me to sit down, placed himself by me; +then, emptying his own glass at a draught, he gave a kind of grunt +of satisfaction, and fixing his eyes upon the opposite side of the +bar, remained motionless, without saying a word, buried apparently +in important cogitations. With respect to myself, I swallowed my +ale more leisurely, and was about to address my friend, when his +niece, coming into the bar, said that more and more customers were +arriving, and how she should supply their wants she did not know, +unless her uncle would get and help her. + +"The customers!" said the landlord, "let the scoundrels wait till +you have time to serve them, or till I have leisure to see after +them." "The kitchen won't contain half of them," said his niece. +"Then let them sit out abroad," said the landlord. "But there are +not benches enough, uncle," said the niece. "Then let them stand +or sit on the ground," said the uncle, "what care I; I'll let them +know that the man who beat Tom of Hopton stands as well again on +his legs as ever." Then opening a side door which led from the bar +into the back yard, he beckoned me to follow him. "You treat your +customers in rather a cavalier manner," said I, when we were alone +together in the yard. + +"Don't I?" said the landlord; "and I'll treat them more so yet; now +I have got the whiphand of the rascals I intend to keep it. I dare +say you are a bit surprised with regard to the change which has +come over things since you were last here. I'll tell you how it +happened. You remember in what a desperate condition you found me, +thinking of changing my religion, selling my soul to the man in +black, and then going and hanging myself like Pontius Pilate; and I +dare say you can't have forgotten how you gave me good advice, made +me drink ale, and give up sherry. Well, after you were gone, I +felt all the better for your talk, and what you had made me drink, +and it was a mercy that I did feel better; for my niece was gone +out, poor thing, and I was left alone in the house, without a soul +to look at, or to keep me from doing myself a mischief in case I +was so inclined. Well, things wore on in this way till it grew +dusk, when in came that blackguard Hunter with his train to drink +at my expense, and to insult me as usual; there were more than a +dozen of them, and a pretty set they looked. Well, they ordered +about in a very free and easy manner for upwards of an hour and a +half, occasionally sneering and jeering at me, as they had been in +the habit of doing for some time past; so, as I said before, things +wore on, and other customers came in, who, though they did not +belong to Hunter's gang, also passed off their jokes upon me; for, +as you perhaps know, we English are a set of low hounds, who will +always take part with the many by way of making ourselves safe, and +currying favour with the stronger side. I said little or nothing, +for my spirits had again become very low, and I was verily scared +and afraid. All of a sudden I thought of the ale which I had drank +in the morning, and of the good it did me then, so I went into the +bar, opened another bottle, took a glass, and felt better; so I +took another, and feeling better still, I went back into the +kitchen, just as Hunter and his crew were about leaving. 'Mr. +Hunter,' said I, 'you and your people will please to pay me for +what you have had?' 'What do you mean by my people?' said he, with +an oath. 'Ah, what do you mean by calling us his people?' said the +clan. 'We are nobody's people;' and then there was a pretty load +of abuse, and threatening to serve me out. 'Well,' said I, 'I was +perhaps wrong to call them your people, and beg your pardon and +theirs. And now you will please to pay me for what you have had +yourself, and afterwards I can settle with them.' 'I shall pay you +when I think fit,' said Hunter. 'Yes,' said the rest, 'and so +shall we. We shall pay you when we think fit.' 'I tell you what,' +said Hunter, 'I conceives I do such an old fool as you an honour +when I comes into his house and drinks his beer, and goes away +without paying for it;' and then there was a roar of laughter from +everybody, and almost all said the same thing. 'Now do you please +to pay me, Mr. Hunter?' said I. 'Pay you!' said Hunter; 'pay you! +Yes, here's the pay;' and thereupon he held out his thumb, twirling +it round till it just touched my nose. I can't tell you what I +felt that moment; a kind of madhouse thrill came upon me, and all I +know is, that I bent back as far as I could, then lunging out, +struck him under the ear, sending him reeling two or three yards, +when he fell on the floor. I wish you had but seen how my company +looked at me and at each other. One or two of the clan went to +raise Hunter, and get him to fight, but it was no go; though he was +not killed, he had had enough for that evening. Oh, I wish you had +seen my customers; those who did not belong to the clan, but who +had taken part with them, and helped to jeer and flout me, now came +and shook me by the hand, wishing me joy, and saying as, how 'I was +a brave fellow, and had served the bully right!' As for the clan, +they all said Hunter was bound to do me justice; so they made him +pay me what he owed for himself, and the reckoning of those among +them who said they had no money. Two or three of them then led him +away, while the rest stayed behind, and flattered me, and +worshipped me, and called Hunter all kinds of dogs' names. What do +you think of that?" + +"Why," said I, "it makes good what I read in a letter which I +received yesterday. It is just the way of the world." + +"A'n't it," said the landlord. "Well, that a'n't all; let me go +on. Good fortune never yet came alone. In about an hour comes +home my poor niece, almost in high sterricks with joy, smiling and +sobbing. She had been to the clergyman of M---, the great +preacher, to whose church she was in the habit of going, and to +whose daughters she was well known; and to him she told a +lamentable tale about my distresses, and about the snares which had +been laid for my soul; and so well did she plead my cause, and so +strong did the young ladies back all she said, that the good +clergyman promised to stand my friend, and to lend me sufficient +money to satisfy the brewer, and to get my soul out of the snares +of the man in black; and sure enough the next morning the two young +ladies brought me the fifty pounds, which I forthwith carried to +the brewer, who was monstrously civil, saying that he hoped any +little misunderstanding we had had would not prevent our being good +friends in future. That a'n't all; the people of the neighbouring +county hearing as if by art witchcraft that I had licked Hunter, +and was on good terms with the brewer, forthwith began to come in +crowds to look at me, pay me homage, and be my customers. +Moreover, fifty scoundrels who owed me money, and would have seen +me starve rather than help me as long as they considered me a down +pin, remembered their debts, and came and paid me more than they +owed. That a'n't all; the brewer being about to establish a stage- +coach and three, to run across the country, says it shall stop and +change horses at my house, and the passengers breakfast and sup as +it goes and returns. He wishes me--whom he calls the best man in +England--to give his son lessons in boxing, which he says he +considers a fine manly English art, and a great defence against +Popery--notwithstanding that only a month ago, when he considered +me a down pin, he was in the habit of railing against it as a +blackguard practice, and against me as a blackguard for following +it; so I am going to commence with young hopeful to-morrow." + +"I really cannot help congratulating you on your good fortune," +said I. + +"That a'n't all," said the landlord. "This very morning the folks +of our parish made me churchwarden, which they would no more have +done a month ago, when they considered me a down pin, than they--" + +"Mercy upon us!" said I, "if fortune pours in upon you in this +manner, who knows but that within a year they may make you a +justice of the peace?" + +"Who knows, indeed!" said the landlord. "Well, I will prove myself +worthy of my good luck by showing the grateful mind--not to those +who would be kind to me now, but to those who were, when the days +were rather gloomy. My customers shall have abundance of rough +language, but I'll knock any one down who says anything against the +clergyman who lent me the fifty pounds, or against the Church of +England, of which he is parson and I am churchwarden. I am also +ready to do anything in reason for him who paid me for the ale he +drank, when I shouldn't have had the heart to collar him for the +money had he refused to pay; who never jeered or flouted me like +the rest of my customers when I was a down pin--and though he +refused to fight cross FOR me was never cross WITH me, but listened +to all I had to say, and gave me all kinds of good advice. Now who +do you think I mean by this last? why, who but yourself--who on +earth but yourself? The parson is a good man and a great preacher, +and I'll knock anybody down who says to the contrary; and I mention +him first, because why; he's a gentleman, and you a tinker. But I +am by no means sure you are not the best friend of the two; for I +doubt, do you see, whether I should have had the fifty pounds but +for you. You persuaded me to give up that silly drink they call +sherry, and drink ale; and what was it but drinking ale which gave +me courage to knock down that fellow Hunter--and knocking him down +was, I verily believe, the turning point of my disorder. God don't +love them who won't strike out for themselves; and as far as I can +calculate with respect to time, it was just the moment after I had +knocked down Hunter, that the parson consented to lend me the +money, and everything began to grow civil to me. So, dash my +buttons if I show the ungrateful mind to you! I don't offer to +knock anybody down for you, because why--I dare say you can knock a +body down yourself; but I'll offer something more to the purpose; +as my business is wonderfully on the increase, I shall want +somebody to help me in serving my customers, and keeping them in +order. If you choose to come and serve for your board, and what +they'll give you, give me your fist; or if you like ten shillings a +week better than their sixpences and ha'pence, only say so--though, +to be open with you, I believe you would make twice ten shillings +out of them--the sneaking, fawning, curry-favouring humbugs!" + +"I am much obliged to you," said I, "for your handsome offer, +which, however, I am obliged to decline." + +"Why so?" said the landlord. + +"I am not fit for service," said I; "moreover, I am about to leave +this part of the country." As I spoke a horse neighed in the +stable. "What horse is that?" said I. + +"It belongs to a cousin of mine, who put it into my hands yesterday +in the hopes that I might get rid of it for him, though he would no +more have done so a week ago, when he considered me a down pin, +than he would have given the horse away. Are you fond of horses?" + +"Very much," said I. + +"Then come and look at it." He led me into the stable, where, in a +stall, stood a noble-looking animal. + +"Dear me," said I, "I saw this horse at--fair." + +"Like enough," said the landlord; "he was there and was offered for +seventy pounds, but didn't find a bidder at any price. What do you +think of him?" + +"He's a splendid creature." + +"I am no judge of horses," said the landlord; "but I am told he's a +first-rate trotter, good leaper, and has some of the blood of +Syntax. What does all that signify?--the game is against his +master, who is a down pin, is thinking of emigrating, and wants +money confoundedly. He asked seventy pounds at the fair; but, +between ourselves, he would be glad to take fifty here." + +"I almost wish," said I, "that I were a rich squire." + +"You would buy him then," said the landlord. Here he mused for +some time, with a very profound look. "It would be a rum thing," +said he, "if, some time or other, that horse should come into your +hands. Didn't you hear how he neighed when you talked about +leaving the country? My granny was a wise woman, and was up to all +kinds of signs and wonders, sounds and noises, the interpretation +of the language of birds and animals, crowing and lowing, neighing +and braying. If she had been here, she would have said at once +that that horse was fated to carry you away. On that point, +however, I can say nothing, for under fifty pounds no one can have +him. Are you taking that money out of your pocket to pay me for +the ale? That won't do; nothing to pay; I invited you this time. +Now if you are going, you had best get into the road through the +yard-gate. I won't trouble you to make your way through the +kitchen and my fine-weather company--confound them!" + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + + +Mr. Petulengro's Device--The Leathern Purse--Consent to Purchase a +Horse. + + +As I returned along the road I met Mr. Petulengro and one of his +companions, who told me that they were bound for the public-house; +whereupon I informed Jasper how I had seen in the stable the horse +which we had admired at the fair. "I shouldn't wonder if you buy +that horse after all, brother," said Mr. Petulengro. With a smile +at the absurdity of such a supposition, I left him and his +companion, and betook myself to the dingle. In the evening I +received a visit from Mr. Petulengro, who forthwith commenced +talking about the horse, which he had again seen, the landlord +having shown it to him on learning that he was a friend of mine. +He told me that the horse pleased him more than ever, he having +examined his points with more accuracy than he had an opportunity +of doing on the first occasion, concluding by pressing me to buy +him. I begged him to desist from such foolish importunity, +assuring him that I had never so much money in all my life as would +enable me to purchase the horse. Whilst this discourse was going +on, Mr. Petulengro and myself were standing together in the midst +of the dingle. Suddenly he began to move round me--in a very +singular manner, making strange motions with his hands, and +frightful contortions with his features, till I became alarmed, and +asked him whether he had not lost his senses? Whereupon, ceasing +his movements and contortions, he assured me that he had not, but +had merely been seized with a slight dizziness, and then once more +returned to the subject of the horse. Feeling myself very angry, I +told him that if he continued persecuting me in that manner, I +should be obliged to quarrel with him; adding, that I believed his +only motive for asking me to buy the animal was to insult my +poverty. "Pretty poverty," said he, "with fifty pounds in your +pocket; however, I have heard say that it is always the custom of +your rich people to talk of their poverty, more especially when +they wish to avoid laying out money." Surprised at his saying that +I had fifty pounds in my pocket, I asked him what he meant; +whereupon he told me that he was very sure that I had fifty pounds +in my pocket, offering to lay me five shillings to that effect. +"Done!" said I; "I have scarcely more than the fifth part of what +you say." "I know better, brother," said Mr. Petulengro; "if you +only pull out what you have in the pocket of your slop, I am sure +you will have lost your wager." Putting my hand into the pocket, I +felt something which I had never felt there before, and pulling it +out, perceived that it was a clumsy leathern purse, which I found +on opening contained four ten-pound-notes, and several pieces of +gold. "Didn't I tell you so, brother?" said Mr. Petulengro. "Now, +in the first place, please to pay me the five shillings you have +lost." "This is only a foolish piece of pleasantry," said I; "you +put it into my pocket whilst you were moving about me, making faces +like a distracted person. Here, take your purse back." "I?" said +Mr. Petulengro, "not I, indeed I don't think I am such a fool. I +have won my wager, so pay me the five shillings, brother." "Do +drop this folly," said I, "and take your purse;" and I flung it on +the ground. "Brother," said Mr. Petulengro, "you were talking of +quarrelling with me just now. I tell you now one thing, which is, +that if you do not take back the purse I will quarrel with you; and +it shall be for good and all. I'll drop your acquaintance, no +longer call you my pal, and not even say sarshan to you when I meet +you by the roadside. Hir mi diblis I never will." I saw by +Jasper's look and tone that he was in earnest, and, as I had really +a regard for the strange being, I scarcely knew what to do. "Now, +be persuaded, brother," said Mr. Petulengro, taking up the purse, +and handing it to me; "be persuaded; put the purse into your +pocket, and buy the horse." "Well," said I, "if I did so, would +you acknowledge the horse to be yours, and receive the money again +as soon as I should be able to repay you?" + +"I would, brother, I would," said he; "return me the money as soon +as you please, provided you buy the horse." "What motive have you +for wishing me to buy that horse?" said I. "He's to be sold for +fifty pounds," said Jasper, "and is worth four times that sum; +though, like many a splendid bargain, he is now going a begging; +buy him, and I'm confident that, in a little time, a grand +gentleman of your appearance may have anything he asks for him, and +found a fortune by his means. Moreover, brother, I want to dispose +of this fifty pounds in a safe manner. If you don't take it, I +shall fool it away in no time, perhaps at card-playing, for you saw +how I was cheated by those blackguard jockeys the other day--we +gyptians don't know how to take care of money: our best plan when +we have got a handful of guineas is to make buttons with them; but +I have plenty of golden buttons, and don't wish to be troubled with +more, so you can do me no greater favour than vesting the money in +this speculation, by which my mind will be relieved of considerable +care and trouble for some time at least." + +Perceiving that I still hesitated, he said, "Perhaps, brother, you +think I did not come honestly by the money: by the honestest +manner in the world, for it is the money I earnt by fighting in the +ring: I did not steal it, brother, nor did I get it by disposing +of spavined donkeys, or glandered ponies--nor is it, brother, the +profits of my wife's witchcraft and dukkerin." + +"But," said I, "you had better employ it in your traffic." "I have +plenty of money for my traffic, independent of this capital," said +Mr. Petulengro; "ay, brother, and enough besides to back the +husband of my wife's sister, Sylvester, against Slammocks of the +Chong gav for twenty pounds, which I am thinking of doing." + +"But," said I, "after all, the horse may have found another +purchaser by this time." "Not he," said Mr. Petulengro, "there is +nobody in this neighbourhood to purchase a horse like that, unless +it be your lordship--so take the money, brother," and he thrust the +purse into my hand. Allowing myself to be persuaded, I kept +possession of the purse. "Are you satisfied now?" said I. "By no +means, brother," said Mr. Petulengro, "you will please to pay me +the five shillings which you lost to me." "Why," said I, "the +fifty pounds which I found in my pocket were not mine, but put in +by yourself." "That's nothing to do with the matter, brother," +said Mr. Petulengro, "I betted you five shillings that you had +fifty pounds in your pocket, which sum you had: I did not say that +they were your own, but merely that you had fifty pounds; you will +therefore pay me, brother, or I shall not consider you an +honourable man." Not wishing to have any dispute about such a +matter, I took five shillings out of my under pocket, and gave them +to him. Mr. Petulengro took the money with great glee, observing-- +"These five shillings I will take to the public-house forthwith, +and spend in drinking with four of my brethren, and doing so will +give me an opportunity of telling the landlord that I have found a +customer for his horse, and that you are the man. It will be as +well to secure the horse as soon as possible; for though the dook +tells me that the horse is intended for you, I have now and then +found that the dock is, like myself, somewhat given to lying." + +He then departed, and I remained alone in the dingle. I thought at +first that I had committed a great piece of folly in consenting to +purchase this horse; I might find no desirable purchaser for him, +until the money in my possession should be totally exhausted, and +then I might be compelled to sell him for half the price I had +given for him, or be even glad to find a person who would receive +him at a gift; I should then remain sans horse, and indebted to Mr. +Petulengro. Nevertheless, it was possible that I might sell the +horse very advantageously, and by so doing obtain a fund sufficient +to enable me to execute some grand enterprise or other. My present +way of life afforded no prospect of support, whereas the purchase +of the horse did afford a possibility of bettering my condition, +so, after all, had I not done right in consenting to purchase the +horse? the purchase was to be made with another person's property, +it is true, and I did not exactly like the idea of speculating with +another person's property, but Mr. Petulengro had thrust his money +upon me, and if I lost his money, he could have no one but himself +to blame; so I persuaded myself that I had, upon the whole, done +right, and having come to that persuasion, I soon began to enjoy +the idea of finding myself on horseback again, and figured to +myself all kinds of strange adventures which I should meet with on +the roads before the horse and I should part company. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + + +Trying the Horse--The Feats of Tawno--Man with the Red Waist-coat-- +Disposal of Property. + + +I saw nothing more of Mr. Petulengro that evening--on the morrow, +however, he came and informed me that he had secured the horse for +me, and that I was to go and pay for it at noon. At the hour +appointed, therefore, I went with Mr. Petulengro and Tawno to the +public, where, as before, there was a crowd of company. The +landlord received us in the bar with marks of much satisfaction and +esteem, made us sit down, and treated us with some excellent mild +draught ale. "Who do you think has been here this morning?" he +said to me, "why, that fellow in black, who came to carry me off to +a house of Popish devotion, where I was to pass seven days and +nights in meditation, as I think he called it, before I publicly +renounced the religion of my country. I read him a pretty lecture, +calling him several unhandsome names, and asking him what he meant +by attempting to seduce a church-warden of the Church of England. +I tell you what, he ran some danger; for some of my customers, +learning his errand, laid hold on him, and were about to toss him +in a blanket, and then duck him in the horse-pond. I, however, +interfered, and said, 'that what he came about was between me and +him, and that it was no business of theirs.' To tell you the +truth, I felt pity for the poor devil, more especially when I +considered that they merely sided against him because they thought +him the weakest, and that they would have wanted to serve me in the +same manner had they considered me a down pin; so I rescued him +from their hands, told him not to be afraid, for that nobody should +touch him, and offered to treat him to some cold gin and water with +a lump of sugar in it; and on his refusing, told him that he had +better make himself scarce, which he did, and I hope I shall never +see him again. So I suppose you are come for the horse; mercy upon +us! who would have thought you would have become the purchaser? +The horse, however, seemed to know it by his neighing. How did you +ever come by the money? however, that's no matter of mine. I +suppose you are strongly backed by certain friends you have." + +I informed the landlord that he was right in supposing that I came +for the horse, but that, before I paid for him, I should wish to +prove his capabilities. "With all my heart," said the landlord. +"You shall mount him this moment." Then going into the stable, he +saddled and bridled the horse, and presently brought him out before +the door. I mounted him, Mr. Petulengro putting a heavy whip into +my hand, and saying a few words to me in his own mysterious +language. "The horse wants no whip," said the landlord. "Hold +your tongue, daddy," said Mr. Petulengro. "My pal knows quite well +what to do with the whip, he's not going to beat the horse with +it." About four hundred yards from the house there was a hill, to +the foot of which the road ran almost on a perfect level; towards +the foot of this hill I trotted the horse, who set off at a long, +swift pace, seemingly at the rate of about sixteen miles an hour. +On reaching the foot of the hill, I wheeled the animal round, and +trotted him towards the house--the horse sped faster than before. +Ere he had advanced a hundred yards, I took off my hat, in +obedience to the advice which Mr. Petulengro had given me, in his +own language, and holding it over the horse's head commenced +drumming on the crown with the knob of the whip; the horse gave a +slight start, but instantly recovering himself, continued his trot +till he arrived at the door of the public-house, amidst the +acclamations of the company, who had all rushed out of the house to +be spectators of what was going on. "I see now what you wanted the +whip for," said the landlord, "and sure enough, that drumming on +your hat was no bad way of learning whether the horse was quiet or +not. Well, did you ever see a more quiet horse, or a better +trotter?" "My cob shall trot against him," said a fellow, dressed +in velveteen, mounted on a low powerful-looking animal. "My cob +shall trot against him to the hill and back again--come on!" We +both started; the cob kept up gallantly against the horse for about +half way to the hill, when he began to lose ground; at the foot of +the hill he was about fifteen yards behind. Whereupon I turned +slowly and waited for him. We then set off towards the house, but +now the cob had no chance, being at least twenty yards behind when +I reached the door. This running of the horse, the wild uncouth +forms around me, and the ale and beer which were being guzzled from +pots and flagons, put me wonderfully in mind of the ancient horse- +races of the heathen north. I almost imagined myself Gunnar of +Hlitharend at the race of - + +"Are you satisfied?" said the landlord. "Didn't you tell me that +he could leap?" I demanded. "I am told he can," said the landlord; +"but I can't consent that he should be tried in that way, as he +might be damaged." "That's right!" said Mr. Petulengro, "don't +trust my pal to leap that horse, he'll merely fling him down, and +break his neck and his own. There's a better man than he close by; +let him get on his back and leap him." "You mean yourself, I +suppose," said the landlord. "Well, I call that talking modestly, +and nothing becomes a young man more than modesty." "It a'n't I, +daddy," said Mr. Petulengro. "Here's the man," said he, pointing +to Tawno. "Here's the horse-leaper of the world!" "You mean the +horse-back breaker," said the landlord. "That big fellow would +break down my cousin's horse." "Why, he weighs only sixteen +stone," said Mr. Petulengro. "And his sixteen stone, with his way +of handling a horse, does not press so much as any other one's +thirteen. Only let him get on the horse's back, and you'll see +what he can do!" "No," said the landlord, "it won't do." Whereupon +Mr. Petulengro became very much excited; and pulling out a handful +of money, said, "I'll tell you what, I'll forfeit these guineas, if +my black pal there does the horse any kind of damage; duck me in +the horse-pond if I don't." "Well," said the landlord, "for the +sport of the thing I consent, so let your white pal get down, and +our black pal mount as soon as he pleases." I felt rather +mortified at Mr. Petulengro's interference; and showed no +disposition to quit my seat; whereupon he came up to me and said, +"Now, brother, do get out of the saddle--you are no bad hand at +trotting, I am willing to acknowledge that; but at leaping a horse +there is no one like Tawno. Let every dog be praised for his own +gift. You have been showing off in your line for the last half- +hour; now do give Tawno a chance of exhibiting a little; poor +fellow, he hasn't often a chance of exhibiting, as his wife keeps +him so much out of sight." Not wishing to appear desirous of +engrossing the public attention, and feeling rather desirous to see +how Tawno, of whose exploits in leaping horses I had frequently +heard, would acquit himself in the affair, I at length dismounted, +and Tawno, at a bound, leaped into the saddle, where he really +looked like Gunnar of Hlitharend, save and except the complexion of +Gunnar was florid, whereas that of Tawno was of nearly Mulatto +darkness; and that all Tawno's features were cast in the Grecian +model, whereas Gunnar had a snub nose. "There's a leaping-bar +behind the house," said the landlord. "Leaping-bar!" said Mr. +Petulengro, scornfully. "Do you think my black pal ever rides at a +leaping-bar? No more than a windle-straw. Leap over that meadow- +wall, Tawno." Just past the house, in the direction in which I had +been trotting, was a wall about four feet high, beyond which was a +small meadow. Tawno rode the horse gently up to the wall, +permitted him to look over, then backed him for about ten yards, +and pressing his calves against the horse's sides, he loosed the +rein, and the horse launching forward, took the leap in gallant +style. "Well done, man and horse!" said Mr. Petulengro, "now come +back, Tawno." The leap from the side of the meadow was, however, +somewhat higher; and the horse, when pushed at it, at first turned +away; whereupon Tawno backed him to a greater distance, pushed the +horse to a full gallop, giving a wild cry; whereupon the horse +again took the wall, slightly grazing one of his legs against it. +"A near thing," said the landlord; "but a good leap. Now, no more +leaping, so long as I have control over the animal." The horse was +then led back to the stable; and the landlord, myself and +companions going into the bar, I paid down the money for the horse. + +Scarcely was the bargain concluded, when two or three of the +company began to envy me the possession of the horse, and forcing +their way into the bar, with much noise and clamour, said that the +horse had been sold too cheap. One fellow, in particular, with a +red waistcoat, the son of a wealthy farmer, said that if he had but +known that the horse had been so good a one, he would have bought +it at the first price asked for it, which he was now willing to +pay, that is to-morrow, supposing--"supposing your father will let +you have the money," said the landlord, "which, after all, might +not be the case; but, however that may be, it is too late now. I +think myself the horse has been sold for too little money, but if +so all the better for the young man, who came forward when no other +body did with his money in his hand. There, take yourselves out of +my bar," he said to the fellows; "and a pretty scoundrel you," said +he to the man of the red waistcoat, "to say the horse has been sold +too cheap; why, it was only yesterday you said he was good for +nothing, and were passing all kinds of jokes at him. Take yourself +out of my bar, I say, you and all of you," and he turned the +fellows out. I then asked the landlord whether he would permit the +horse to remain in the stable for a short time, provided I paid for +his entertainment; and on his willingly consenting, I treated my +friends with ale, and then returned with them to the encampment. + +That evening I informed Mr. Petulengro and his party that on the +morrow I intended to mount my horse, and leave that part of the +country in quest of adventures; inquiring of Jasper where, in the +event of my selling the horse advantageously, I might meet with +him, and repay the money I had borrowed of him; whereupon Mr. +Petulengro informed me that in about ten weeks I might find him at +a certain place at the Chong gav. I then stated that as I could +not well carry with me the property which I possessed in the +dingle, which after all was of no considerable value, I had +resolved to bestow the said property, namely, the pony, tent, +tinker-tools, etc., on Ursula and her husband, partly because they +were poor, and partly on account of the great kindness which I bore +to Ursula, from whom I had, on various occasions, experienced all +manner of civility, particularly in regard to crabbed words. On +hearing this intelligence, Ursula returned many thanks to her +gentle brother, as she called me, and Sylvester was so overjoyed +that, casting aside his usual phlegm, he said I was the best friend +he had ever had in the world, and in testimony of his gratitude +swore that he would permit his wife to give me a choomer in the +presence of the whole company, which offer, however, met with a +very mortifying reception, the company frowning disapprobation, +Ursula protesting against anything of the kind, and I myself +showing no forwardness to avail myself of it, having inherited from +nature a considerable fund of modesty, to which was added no slight +store acquired in the course of my Irish education. I passed that +night alone in the dingle in a very melancholy manner, with little +or no sleep, thinking of Isopel Berners; and in the morning when I +quitted it I shed several tears, as I reflected that I should +probably never again see the spot where I had passed so many hours +in her company. + + + +CHAPTER XX + + + +Farewell to the Romans--The Landlord and His Niece--Set Out as a +Traveller. + + +On reaching the plain above, I found my Romany friends +breakfasting, and on being asked by Mr. Petulengro to join them, I +accepted the invitation. No sooner was breakfast over than I +informed Ursula and her husband that they would find the property, +which I had promised them, in the dingle, commanding the little +pony Ambrol to their best care. I took leave of the whole company, +which was itself about to break up camp and to depart in the +direction of London, and made the best of my way to the public- +house. I had a small bundle in my hand, and was dressed in the +same manner as when I departed from London, having left my +waggoner's slop with the other effects in the dingle. On arriving +at the public-house, I informed the landlord that I was come for my +horse, inquiring, at the same time, whether he could not +accommodate me with a bridle and saddle. He told me that the +bridle and saddle, with which I had ridden the horse on the +preceding day, were at my service for a trifle; that he had +received them some time since in payment for a debt, and that he +had himself no use for them. The leathers of the bridle were +rather shabby, and the bit rusty, and the saddle was old fashioned; +but I was happy to purchase them for seven shillings, more +especially as the landlord added a small valise, which he said +could be strapped to the saddle, and which I should find very +convenient for carrying my things in. I then proceeded to the +stable, told the horse we were bound on an expedition, and giving +him a feed of corn, left him to discuss it, and returned to the +bar-room to have a little farewell chat with the landlord, and at +the same time to drink with him a farewell glass of ale. Whilst we +were talking and drinking, the niece came and joined us: she was a +decent, sensible young woman, who appeared to take a great interest +in her uncle, whom she regarded with a singular mixture of pride +and, disapprobation--pride for the renown which he had acquired by +his feats of old, and disapprobation for his late imprudences. She +said that she hoped that his misfortunes would be a warning to him +to turn more to his God than he had hitherto done, and to give up +cock-fighting and other low-life practices. To which the landlord +replied, that with respect to cock-fighting he intended to give it +up entirely, being determined no longer to risk his capital upon +birds, and with respect to his religious duties, he should attend +the church of which he was churchwarden at least once a quarter, +adding, however, that he did not intend to become either canter or +driveller, neither of which characters would befit a publican +surrounded by such customers as he was, and that to the last day of +his life he hoped to be able to make use of his fists. After a +stay of about two hours I settled accounts, and having bridled and +saddled my horse, and strapped on my valise, I mounted, shook hands +with the landlord and his niece, and departed, notwithstanding that +they both entreated me to tarry until the evening, it being then +the heat of the day. + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + + +An Adventure on the Road--The Six Flint Stone--A Rural Scene--Mead- +-The Old Man and His Bees. + + +I bent my course in the direction of the north, more induced by +chance than any particular motive; all quarters of the world having +about equal attractions for me. I was in high spirits at finding +myself once more on horse-back, and trotted gaily on, until the +heat of the weather induced me to slacken my pace, more out of pity +for my horse than because I felt any particular inconvenience from +it--heat and cold being then, and still, matters of great +indifference to me. What I thought of I scarcely know, save and +except that I have a glimmering recollection that I felt some +desire to meet with one of those adventures which upon the roads of +England are generally as plentiful as blackberries in autumn; and +Fortune, who has generally been ready to gratify my inclinations, +provided it cost her very little by so doing, was not slow in +furnishing me with an adventure, perhaps as characteristic of the +English roads as anything which could have happened. + +I might have travelled about six miles amongst cross roads and +lanes, when suddenly I found myself upon a broad and very dusty +road which seemed to lead due north. As I wended along this I saw +a man upon a donkey riding towards me. The man was commonly +dressed, with a broad felt hat on his head, and a kind of satchel +on his back; he seemed to be in a mighty hurry, and was every now +and then belabouring the donkey with a cudgel. The donkey, +however, which was a fine large creature of the silver-grey +species, did not appear to sympathize at all with its rider in his +desire to get on, but kept its head turned back as much as +possible, moving from one side of the road to the other, and not +making much forward way. As I passed, being naturally of a very +polite disposition, I gave the man the sele of the day, asking him, +at the same time, why he beat the donkey; whereupon the fellow +eyeing me askance, told me to mind my own business, with the +addition of something which I need not repeat. I had not proceeded +a furlong before I saw seated on the dust by the wayside, close by +a heap of stones, and with several flints before him, a +respectable-looking old man, with a straw hat and a white smock, +who was weeping bitterly. + +"What are you crying for, father?" said I. "Have you come to any +hurt?" "Hurt enough," sobbed the old man, "I have just been +tricked out of the best ass in England by a villain, who gave me +nothing but these trash in return," pointing to the stones before +him. "I really scarcely understand you," said I, "I wish you would +explain yourself more clearly." "I was riding on my ass from +market," said the old man, "when I met here a fellow with a sack on +his back, who, after staring at the ass and me a moment or two, +asked me if I would sell her. I told him that I could not think of +selling her, as she was very useful to me, and though an animal, my +true companion, whom I loved as much as if she were my wife and +daughter. I then attempted to pass on, but the fellow stood before +me, begging me to sell her, saying that he would give me anything +for her; well, seeing that he persisted, I said at last that if I +sold her, I must have six pounds for her, and I said so to get rid +of him, for I saw that he was a shabby fellow, who had probably not +six shillings in the world; but I had better have held my tongue," +said the old man, crying more bitterly than before, "for the words +were scarcely out of my mouth, when he said he would give me what I +asked, and taking the sack from his back, he pulled out a +steelyard, and going to the heap of stones there, he took up +several of them and weighed them, then flinging them down before +me, he said, 'There are six pounds, neighbour; now, get off the +ass, and hand her over to me.' Well, I sat like one dumbfoundered +for a time, till at last I asked him what he meant? 'What do I +mean?' said he, 'you old rascal, why, I mean to claim my purchase,' +and then he swore so awfully, that scarcely knowing what I did I +got down, and he jumped on the animal and rode off as fast as he +could." "I suppose he was the fellow," said I, "whom I just now +met upon a fine gray ass, which he was beating with a cudgel." "I +dare say he was," said the old man, "I saw him beating her as he +rode away, and I thought I should have died." "I never heard such +a story," said I; "well, do you mean to submit to such a piece of +roguery quietly?" "Oh, dear," said the old man, "what can I do? I +am seventy-nine years of age; I am bad on my feet, and dar'n't go +after him."--"Shall I go?" said I; "the fellow is a thief, and any +one has a right to stop him." "Oh, if you could but bring her +again to me," said the old man, "I would bless you till my dying +day; but have a care; I don't know but after all the law may say +that she is his lawful purchase. I asked six pounds for her, and +he gave me six pounds." "Six flints, you mean," said I, "no, no, +the law is not quite so bad as that either; I know something about +her, and am sure that she will never sanction such a quibble. At +all events, I'll ride after the fellow." Thereupon turning my +horse round, I put him to his very best trot; I rode nearly a mile +without obtaining a glimpse of the fellow, and was becoming +apprehensive that he had escaped me by turning down some by-path, +two or three of which I had passed. Suddenly, however, on the road +making a slight turning, I perceived him right before me, moving at +a tolerably swift pace, having by this time probably overcome the +resistance of the animal. Putting my horse to a full gallop, I +shouted at the top of my voice, "Get off that donkey, you rascal, +and give her up to me, or I'll ride you down." The fellow hearing +the thunder of the horse's hoofs behind him, drew up on one side of +the road. "What do you want?" said he, as I stopped my charger, +now almost covered with sweat and foam close beside him. "Do you +want to rob me?" "To rob you?" said I. "No! but to take from you +that ass, of which you have just robbed its owner." "I have robbed +no man," said the fellow; "I just now purchased it fairly of its +master, and the law will give it to me; he asked six pounds for it, +and I gave him six pounds." "Six stones, you mean, you rascal," +said I; "get down, or my horse shall be upon you in a moment;" then +with a motion of my reins, I caused the horse to rear, pressing his +sides with my heels as if I intended to make him leap. "Stop," +said the man, "I'll get down, and then try if I can't serve you +out." He then got down, and confronted me with his cudgel; he was +a horrible-looking fellow, and seemed prepared for anything. +Scarcely, however, had he dismounted, when the donkey jerked the +bridle out of his hand, and probably in revenge for the usage she +had received, gave him a pair of tremendous kicks on the hip with +her hinder legs, which overturned him, and then scampered down the +road the way she had come. "Pretty treatment this," said the +fellow, getting up without his cudgel, and holding his hand to his +side, "I wish I may not be lamed for life." "And if you be," said +I, "it will merely serve you right, you rascal, for trying to cheat +a poor old man out of his property by quibbling at words." +"Rascal!" said the fellow, "you lie, I am no rascal; and as for +quibbling with words--suppose I did! What then? All the first +people does it! The newspapers does it! the gentlefolks that calls +themselves the guides of the popular mind does it! I'm no +ignoramus. I read the newspapers, and knows what's what." "You +read them to some purpose," said I. "Well, if you are lamed for +life, and unfitted for any active line--turn newspaper editor; I +should say you are perfectly qualified, and this day's adventure +may be the foundation of your fortune," thereupon I turned round +and rode off. The fellow followed me with a torrent of abuse. +"Confound you," said he--yet that was not the expression either--"I +know you; you are one of the horse-patrol come down into the +country on leave to see your relations. Confound you, you and the +like of you have knocked my business on the head near Lunnon, and I +suppose we shall have you shortly in the country." "To the +newspaper office," said I, "and fabricate falsehoods out of flint +stones;" then touching the horse with my heels, I trotted off, and +coming to the place where I had seen the old man, I found him +there, risen from the ground, and embracing his ass. + +I told him that I was travelling down the road, and said, that if +his way lay in the same direction as mine he could do no better +than accompany me for some distance, lest the fellow who, for aught +I knew, might be hovering nigh, might catch him alone, and again +get his ass from him. After thanking me for my offer, which he +said he would accept, he got upon his ass, and we proceeded +together down the road. My new acquaintance said very little of +his own accord; and when I asked him a question, answered rather +incoherently. I heard him every now and then say, "Villain!" to +himself, after which he would pat the donkey's neck, from which +circumstance I concluded that his mind was occupied with his late +adventure. After travelling about two miles, we reached a place +where a drift-way on the right led from the great road; here my +companion stopped, and on my asking him whether he was going any +farther, he told me that the path to the right was the way to his +home. + +I was bidding him farewell, when he hemmed once or twice, and said, +that as he did not live far off, he hoped that I would go with him +and taste some of his mead. As I had never tasted mead, of which I +had frequently read in the compositions of the Welsh bards, and, +moreover, felt rather thirsty from the heat of the day, I told him +that I should have great pleasure in attending him. Whereupon, +turning off together, we proceeded about half a mile, sometimes +between stone walls, and at other times hedges, till we reached a +small hamlet, through which we passed, and presently came to a very +pretty cottage, delightfully situated within a garden, surrounded +by a hedge of woodbines. Opening a gate at one corner of the +garden he led the way to a large shed, which stood partly behind +the cottage, which he said was his stable; thereupon he dismounted +and led his donkey into the shed, which was without stalls, but had +a long rack and manger. On one side he tied his donkey, after +taking off her caparisons, and I followed his example, tying my +horse at the other side with a rope halter which he gave me; he +then asked me to come in and taste his mead, but I told him that I +must attend to the comfort of my horse first, and forthwith, taking +a wisp of straw, rubbed him carefully down. Then taking a pailful +of clear water which stood in the shed, I allowed the horse to +drink about half a pint; and then turning to the old man, who all +the time had stood by looking at my proceedings, I asked him +whether he had any oats? "I have all kinds of grain," he replied; +and, going out, he presently returned with two measures, one a +large and the other a small one, both filled with oats, mixed with +a few beans, and handing the large one to me for the horse, he +emptied the other before the donkey, who, before she began to +despatch it, turned her nose to her master's face, and fairly +kissed him. Having given my horse his portion, I told the old man +that I was ready to taste his mead as soon as he pleased, whereupon +he ushered me into his cottage, where, making me sit down by a deal +table in a neatly sanded kitchen, he produced from an old-fashioned +closet a bottle, holding about a quart, and a couple of cups, which +might each contain about half a pint, then opening the bottle and +filling the cups with a brown-coloured liquor, he handed one to me, +and taking a seat opposite to me, he lifted the other, nodded, and +saying to me--"Health and welcome," placed it to his lips and +drank. + +"Health and thanks," I replied; and being very thirsty, emptied my +cup at a draught; I had scarcely done so, however, when I half +repented. The mead was deliciously sweet and mellow, but appeared +strong as brandy; my eyes reeled in my head, and my brain became +slightly dizzy. "Mead is a strong drink," said the old man, as he +looked at me, with a half smile on his countenance. "This is at +any rate," said I, "so strong, indeed, that I would not drink +another cup for any consideration." "And I would not ask you," +said the old man; "for, if you did, you would most probably be +stupid all day, and wake the next morning with a headache. Mead is +a good drink, but woundily strong, especially to those who be not +used to it, as I suppose you are not." "Where do you get it?" said +I. "I make it myself," said the old man, "from the honey which my +bees make." "Have you many bees?" I inquired. "A great many," +said the old man. "And do you keep them," said I, "for the sake of +making mead with their honey?" "I keep them," he replied, "partly +because I am fond of them, and partly for what they bring me in; +they make me a great deal of honey, some of which I sell, and with +a little I make some mead to warm my poor heart with, or +occasionally to treat a friend with like yourself." "And do you +support yourself entirely by means of your bees?" "No," said the +old man; "I have a little bit of ground behind my house, which is +my principal means of support." "And do you live alone?" "Yes," +said he; "with the exception of the bees and the donkey, I live +quite alone." "And have you always lived alone?" The old man +emptied his cup, and his heart being warmed with the mead, he told +his history, which was simplicity itself. His father was a small +yeoman, who, at his death, had left him, his only child, the +cottage, with a small piece of ground behind it, and on this little +property he had lived ever since. About the age of twenty-five he +had married an industrious young woman, by whom he had one +daughter, who died before reaching years of womanhood. His wife, +however, had survived her daughter many years, and had been a great +comfort to him, assisting him in his rural occupations; but, about +four years before the present period, he had lost her, since which +time he had lived alone, making himself as comfortable as he could; +cultivating his ground, with the help of a lad from the +neighbouring village, attending to his bees, and occasionally +riding his donkey to market, and hearing the word of God, which he +said he was sorry he could not read, twice a week regularly at the +parish church. Such was the old man's tale. + +When he had finished speaking, he led me behind his house, and +showed me his little domain. It consisted of about two acres in +admirable cultivation; a small portion of it formed a kitchen +garden, while the rest was sown with four kinds of grain, wheat, +barley, peas, and beans. The air was full of ambrosial sweets, +resembling those proceeding from an orange grove; a place which +though I had never seen at that time, I since have. In the garden +was the habitation of the bees, a long box, supported upon three +oaken stumps. It was full of small round glass windows, and +appeared to be divided into a great many compartments, much +resembling drawers placed sideways. He told me that, as one +compartment was filled, the bees left it for another; so that, +whenever he wanted honey, he could procure some without injury to +the insects. Through the little round windows I could see several +of the bees at work; hundreds were going in and out of the doors; +hundreds were buzzing about on the flowers, the woodbines, and +beans. As I looked around on the well-cultivated field, the +garden, and the bees, I thought I had never before seen so rural +and peaceful a scene. + +When we returned to the cottage we again sat down, and I asked the +old man whether he was not afraid to live alone. He told me that +he was not, for that, upon the whole, his neighbours were very kind +to him. I mentioned the fellow who had swindled him of his donkey +upon the road. "That was no neighbour of mine," said the old man, +"and, perhaps, I shall never see him again, or his like." "It's a +dreadful thing," said I, "to have no other resource, when injured, +than to shed tears on the road." "It is so," said the old man; +"but God saw the tears of the old, and sent a helper." "Why did +you not help yourself?" said I. "Instead of getting off your ass, +why did you not punch at the fellow, or at any rate use dreadful +language, call him villain, and shout robbery?" "Punch!" said the +old man, "shout! what, with these hands, and this voice--Lord, how +you run on! I am old, young chap, I am old!" "Well," said I, "it +is a shameful thing to cry even when old." "You think so now," +said the old man, "because you are young and strong; perhaps when +you are as old as I, you will not be ashamed to cry." + +Upon the whole I was rather pleased with the old man, and much with +all about him. As evening drew nigh, I told him that I must +proceed on my journey; whereupon he invited me to tarry with him +during the night, telling me that he had a nice room and bed above +at my service. I, however, declined; and bidding him farewell, +mounted my horse, and departed. Regaining the road, I proceeded +once more in the direction of the north; and, after a few hours, +coming to a comfortable public-house, I stopped, and put up for the +night. + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + + +The Singular Noise--Sleeping in a Meadow--The Book--Cure for +Wakefulness--Literary Tea Party--Poor Byron. + + +I did not awake till rather late the next morning; and when I did, +I felt considerable drowsiness, with a slight headache, which I was +uncharitable enough to attribute to the mead which I had drunk on +the preceding day. After feeding my horse, and breakfasting, I +proceeded on my wanderings. Nothing occurred worthy of relating +till mid-day was considerably past, when I came to a pleasant +valley, between two gentle hills. I had dismounted, in order to +ease my horse, and was leading him along by the bridle, when, on my +right, behind a bank in which some umbrageous ashes were growing, +heard a singular noise. I stopped short and listened, and +presently said to myself, "Surely this is snoring, perhaps that of +a hedgehog." On further consideration, however, I was convinced +that the noise which I heard, and which certainly seemed to be +snoring, could not possibly proceed from the nostrils of so small +an animal, but must rather come from those of a giant, so loud and +sonorous was it. About two or three yards farther was a gate, +partly open, to which I went, and peeping into the field, saw a man +lying on some rich grass, under the shade of one of the ashes; he +was snoring away at a great rate. Impelled by curiosity, I +fastened the bridle of my horse to the gate, and went up to the +man. He was a genteelly-dressed individual; rather corpulent, with +dark features, and seemingly about forty-five. He lay on his back, +his hat slightly over his brow, and at his right hand lay an open +book. So strenuously did he snore that the wind from his nostrils +agitated, perceptibly, a fine cambric frill which he wore at his +bosom. I gazed upon him for some time, expecting that he might +awake; but he did not, but kept on snoring, his breast heaving +convulsively. At last, the noise he made became so terrible, that +I felt alarmed for his safety, imagining that a fit might seize +him, and he lose his life while fast asleep. I therefore +exclaimed, "Sir, sir, awake! you sleep over-much." But my voice +failed to rouse him, and he continued snoring as before; whereupon +I touched him slightly with my riding wand, but failing to wake +him, I touched him again more vigorously; whereupon he opened his +eyes, and, probably imagining himself in a dream, closed them +again. But I was determined to arouse him, and cried as loud as I +could, "Sir, sir, pray sleep no more!" He heard what I said, +opened his eyes again, stared at me with a look of some +consciousness, and, half raising himself upon his elbows, asked me +what was the matter. "I beg your pardon," said I, "but I took the +liberty of awaking you, because you appeared to be much disturbed +in your sleep--I was fearful, too, that you might catch a fever +from sleeping under a tree." "I run no risk," said the man, "I +often come and sleep here; and as for being disturbed in my sleep, +I felt very comfortable; I wish you had not awoke me." "Well," +said I, "I beg your pardon once more. I assure you that what I did +was with the best intention." "Oh! pray make no further apology," +said the individual, "I make no doubt that what you did was done +kindly; but there's an old proverb, to the effect, 'that you should +let sleeping dogs lie,'" he added with a smile. Then, getting up, +and stretching himself with a yawn, he took up his book and said, +"I have slept quite long enough, and it's quite time for me to be +going home." "Excuse my curiosity," said I, "if I inquire what may +induce you to come and sleep in this meadow?" "To tell you the +truth," answered he, "I am a bad sleeper." "Pray pardon me," said +I, "if I tell you that I never saw one sleep more heartily." "If I +did so," said the individual, "I am beholden to this meadow and +this book; but I am talking riddles, and will explain myself. I am +the owner of a very pretty property, of which this valley forms +part. Some years ago, however, up started a person who said the +property was his; a lawsuit ensued, and I was on the brink of +losing my all, when, most unexpectedly, the suit was determined in +my favour. Owing, however, to the anxiety to which my mind had +been subjected for several years, my nerves had become terribly +shaken; and no sooner was the trial terminated than sleep forsook +my pillow. I sometimes passed nights without closing an eye; I +took opiates, but they rather increased than alleviated my malady. +About three weeks ago a friend of mine put this book into my hand, +and advised me to take it every day to some pleasant part of my +estate, and try and read a page or two, assuring me, if I did, that +I should infallibly fall asleep. I took his advice, and selecting +this place, which I considered the pleasantest part of my property, +I came, and lying down, commenced reading the book, and before +finishing a page was in a dead slumber. Every day since then I +have repeated the experiment, and every time with equal success. I +am a single man, without any children; and yesterday I made my +will, in which, in the event of my friend's surviving me, I have +left him all my fortune, in gratitude for his having procured for +me the most invaluable of all blessings--sleep." + +"Dear me," said I, "how very extraordinary! Do you think that your +going to sleep is caused by the meadow or the book?" "I suppose by +both," said my new acquaintance, "acting in co-operation." "It may +be so," said I; "the magic influence does certainly not proceed +from the meadow alone; for since I have been here, I have not felt +the slightest inclination to sleep. Does the book consist of prose +or poetry?" "It consists of poetry," said the individual. "Not +Byron's?" said I. "Byron's!" repeated the individual, with a smile +of contempt; "no, no; there is nothing narcotic in Byron's poetry. +I don't like it. I used to read it, but it thrilled, agitated, and +kept me awake. No; this is not Byron's poetry, but the inimitable +-'s"--mentioning a name which I had never heard till then. "Will +you permit me to look at it?" said I. "With pleasure," he +answered, politely handing me the book. I took the volume, and +glanced over the contents. It was written in blank verse, and +appeared to abound in descriptions of scenery; there was much +mention of mountains, valleys, streams, and waterfalls, harebells +and daffodils. These descriptions were interspersed with +dialogues, which, though they proceeded from the mouths of pedlars +and rustics, were of the most edifying description; mostly on +subjects moral or metaphysical, and couched in the most gentlemanly +and unexceptionable language, without the slightest mixture of +vulgarity, coarseness, or pie-bald grammar. Such appeared to me to +be the contents of the book; but before I could form a very clear +idea of them, I found myself nodding, and a surprising desire to +sleep coming over me. Rousing myself, however, by a strong effort, +I closed the book, and, returning it to the owner, inquired of him, +"Whether he had any motive in coming and lying down in the meadow, +besides the wish of enjoying sleep?" "None whatever," he replied; +"indeed, I should be very glad not to be compelled to do so, always +provided I could enjoy the blessing of sleep; for by lying down +under trees, I may possibly catch the rheumatism, or be stung by +serpents; and, moreover, in the rainy season and winter the thing +will be impossible, unless I erect a tent, which will possibly +destroy the charm." "Well," said I, "you need give yourself no +further trouble about coming here, as I am fully convinced that +with this book in your hand, you may go to sleep anywhere, as your +friend was doubtless aware, though he wished to interest your +imagination for a time by persuading you to lie abroad; therefore, +in future, whenever you feel disposed to sleep, try to read the +book, and you will be sound asleep in a minute; the narcotic +influence lies in the book, and not in the field." "I will follow +your advice," said the individual; "and this very night take it +with me to bed; though I hope in time to be able to sleep without +it, my nerves being already much quieted from the slumbers I have +enjoyed in this field." He then moved towards the gate, where we +parted; he going one way, and I and my horse the other. + +More than twenty years subsequent to this period, after much +wandering about the world, returning to my native country, I was +invited to a literary tea-party, where, the discourse turning upon +poetry, I, in order to show that I was not more ignorant than my +neighbours, began to talk about Byron, for whose writings I really +entertained considerable admiration, though I had no particular +esteem for the man himself. At first, I received no answer to what +I said--the company merely surveying me with a kind of sleepy +stare. At length a lady, about the age of forty, with a large wart +on her face, observed, in a drawling tone, "That she had not read +Byron--at least, since her girlhood--and then only a few passages; +but that the impression on her mind was, that his writings were of +a highly objectionable character." "I also read a little of him in +my boyhood," said a gentleman about sixty, but who evidently, from +his dress and demeanour, wished to appear about thirty, "but I +highly disapproved of him; for, notwithstanding he was a nobleman, +he is frequently very coarse, and very fond of raising emotion. +Now emotion is what I dislike;" drawling out the last syllable of +the word dislike. "There is only one poet for me--the divine--" +and then he mentioned a name which I had only once heard, and +afterwards quite forgotten; the same mentioned by the snorer in the +field. "Ah! there is no one like him!" murmured some more of the +company; "the poet of nature--of nature without its vulgarity." I +wished very much to ask these people whether they were ever bad +sleepers, and whether they had read the poet, so called, from a +desire of being set to sleep. Within a few days, however, I learnt +that it had of late become very fashionable and genteel to appear +half asleep, and that one could exhibit no better mark of superfine +breeding than by occasionally in company setting one's rhomal organ +in action. I then ceased to wonder at the popularity, which I +found nearly universal, of -'s poetry; for, certainly in order to +make one's self appear sleepy in company, or occasionally to induce +sleep, nothing could be more efficacious than a slight prelection +of his poems. So poor Byron, with his fire and emotion--to say +nothing of his mouthings and coxcombry--was dethroned, as I +prophesied he would be more than twenty years before, on the day of +his funeral, though I had little idea that his humiliation would +have been brought about by one, whose sole strength consists in +setting people to sleep. Well, all things are doomed to terminate +in sleep. Before that termination, however, I will venture to +prophesy that people will become a little more awake--snoring and +yawning be a little less in fashion--and poor Byron be once more +reinstated on his throne, though his rival will always stand a good +chance of being worshipped by those whose ruined nerves are +insensible to the narcotic powers of opium and morphine. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + + +Drivers and Front Outside Passengers--Fatigue of Body and Mind-- +Unexpected Greeting--My Inn--The Governor--Engagement. + + +I continued my journey, passing through one or two villages. The +day was exceedingly hot, and the roads dusty. In order to cause my +horse as little fatigue as possible, and not to chafe his back, I +led him by the bridle, my doing which brought upon me a shower of +remarks, jests, and would-be witticisms from the drivers and front +outside passengers of sundry stage-coaches which passed me in one +direction or the other. In this way I proceeded till considerably +past noon, when I felt myself very fatigued, and my horse appeared +no less so; and it is probable that the lazy and listless manner in +which we were moving on, tired us both much more effectually than +hurrying along at a swift trot would have done, for I have observed +that when the energies of the body are not exerted a languor +frequently comes over it. At length arriving at a very large +building with an archway, near the entrance of a town, I sat down +on what appeared to be a stepping-block, and presently experienced +a great depression of spirits. I began to ask myself whither I was +going, and what I should do with myself and the horse which I held +by the bridle? It appeared to me that I was alone in the world +with the poor animal, who looked for support to me, who knew not +how to support myself. Then the image of Isopel Berners came into +my mind, and when I thought how I had lost her for ever, and how +happy I might have been with her in the New World had she not +deserted me, I became yet more miserable. + +As I sat in this state of mind, I suddenly felt some one clap me on +the shoulder, and heard a voice say, "Ha! comrade of the dingle, +what chance has brought you into these parts?" I turned round, and +beheld a man in the dress of a postillion, whom I instantly +recognized as he to whom I had rendered assistance on the night of +the storm. + +"Ah!" said I, "is it you? I am glad to see you, for I was feeling +very lonely and melancholy." + +"Lonely and melancholy," he replied, "how is that? how can any one +be lonely and melancholy with such a noble horse as that you hold +by the bridle?" + +"The horse," said I, "is one cause of my melancholy, for I know not +in the world what to do with it." + +"It is your own?" + +"Yes," said I, "I may call it my own, though I borrowed the money +to purchase it." + +"Well, why don't you sell it?" + +"It is not always easy to find a purchaser for a horse like this," +said I; "can you recommend me one?" + +"I? Why no, not exactly; but you'll find a purchaser shortly-- +pooh! if you have no other cause for disquiet than that horse, +cheer up, man, don't be cast down. Have you nothing else on your +mind? By the bye, what's become of the young woman you were +keeping company with in that queer lodging place of yours?" + +"She has left me," said I. + +"You quarrelled, I suppose?" + +"No," said I, "we did not exactly quarrel, but we are parted." + +"Well," replied he, "but you will soon come together again." + +"No," said I, "we are parted for ever." + +"For ever! Pooh! you little know how people sometimes come +together again who think they are parted for ever. Here's +something on that point relating to myself. You remember, when I +told you my story in that dingle of yours, that I mentioned a young +woman, my fellow-servant when I lived with the English family in +Mumbo Jumbo's town, and how she and I, when our foolish governors +were thinking of changing their religion, agreed to stand by each +other, and be true to old Church of England, and to give our +governors warning, provided they tried to make us renegades. Well, +she and I parted soon after that, and never to meet again, yet we +met the other day in the fields, for she lately came to live with a +great family not far from here, and we have since agreed to marry, +to take a little farm, for we have both a trifle of money, and live +together till 'death us do part.' So much for parting for ever! +But what do I mean by keeping you broiling in the sun with your +horse's bridle in your hand, and you on my own ground? Do you know +where you are? Why, that great house is my inn, that is, it's my +master's, the best fellow in -. Come along, you and your horse +both will find a welcome at my inn." + +Thereupon he led the way into a large court in which there were +coaches, chaises, and a great many people; taking my horse from me, +he led it into a nice cool stall, and fastened it to the rack--he +then conducted me into a postillion's keeping-room, which at that +time chanced to be empty, and he then fetched a pot of beer and sat +down by me. + +After a little conversation he asked me what I intended to do, and +I told him frankly that I did not know; whereupon he observed that, +provided I had no objection, he had little doubt that I could be +accommodated for some time at his inn. "Our upper ostler," said +he, "died about a week ago; he was a clever fellow, and, besides +his trade, understood reading and accounts." + +"Dear me," said I, interrupting him, "I am not fitted for the place +of ostler--moreover, I refused the place of ostler at a public- +house, which was offered to me only a few days ago." The +postillion burst into a laugh. "Ostler at a public-house, indeed! +why, you would not compare a berth at a place like that with the +situation of ostler at my inn, the first road-house in England! +However, I was not thinking of the place of ostler for you; you +are, as you say, not fitted for it, at any rate, not at a house +like this. We have, moreover, the best under-ostler in all +England--old Bill, with the drawback that he is rather fond of +drink. We could make shift with him very well, provided we could +fall in with a man of writing and figures, who could give an +account of the hay and corn which comes in and goes out, and +wouldn't object to give a look occasionally at the yard. Now it +appears to me that you are just such a kind of man, and, if you +will allow me to speak to the governor, I don't doubt that he will +gladly take you, as he feels kindly disposed towards you from what +he has heard me say concerning you." + +"And what should I do with my horse?" said I. + +"The horse need give you no uneasiness," said the postillion; "I +know he will be welcome here both for bed and manger, and, perhaps, +in a little time you may find a purchaser, as a vast number of +sporting people frequent this house." I offered two or three more +objections, which the postillion overcame with great force of +argument, and the pot being nearly empty, he drained it to the +bottom drop, and then starting up, left me alone. + +In about twenty minutes he returned, accompanied by a highly +intelligent-looking individual, dressed in blue and black, with a +particularly white cravat, and without a hat on his head: this +individual, whom I should have mistaken for a gentleman but for the +intelligence depicted in his face, he introduced to me as the +master of the inn. The master of the inn shook me warmly by the +hand, told me that he was happy to see me in his house, and thanked +me in the handsomest terms for the kindness I had shown to his +servant in the affair of the thunderstorm. Then saying that he was +informed I was out of employ, he assured me that he should be most +happy to engage me to keep his hay and corn account, and as general +superintendent of the yard, and that with respect to the horse, +which he was told I had, he begged to inform me that I was +perfectly at liberty to keep it at the inn upon the very best, +until I could find a purchaser,--that with regard to wages--but he +had no sooner mentioned wages than I cut him short, saying, that +provided I stayed I should be most happy to serve him for bed and +board, and requested that he would allow me until the next morning +to consider of his offer; he willingly consented to my request, +and, begging that I would call for anything I pleased, left me +alone with the postillion. + +I passed that night until about ten o'clock with the postillion, +when he left me, having to drive a family about ten miles across +the country; before his departure, however, I told him that I had +determined to accept the offer of his governor, as he called him. +At the bottom of my heart I was most happy that an offer had been +made, which secured to myself and the animal a comfortable retreat +at a moment when I knew not whither in the world to take myself and +him. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + + + +An Inn of Times gone by--A First-rate Publican--Hay and Corn--Old- +fashioned Ostler--Highwaymen--Mounted Police--Grooming. + + +The inn, of which I had become an inhabitant, was a place of +infinite life and bustle. Travellers of all descriptions, from all +the cardinal points, were continually stopping at it; and to attend +to their wants, and minister to their convenience, an army of +servants, of one description or other, was kept; waiters, +chambermaids, grooms, postillions, shoe-blacks, cooks, scullions, +and what not, for there was a barber and hair-dresser, who had been +at Paris, and talked French with a cockney accent; the French +sounding all the better, as no accent is so melodious as the +cockney. Jacks creaked in the kitchens turning round spits, on +which large joints of meat piped and smoked before great big fires. +There was running up and down stairs, and along galleries, slamming +of doors, cries of "Coming, sir," and "Please to step this way, +ma'am," during eighteen hours of the four-and-twenty. Truly a very +great place for life and bustle was this inn. And often in after +life, when lonely and melancholy, I have called up the time I spent +there, and never failed to become cheerful from the recollection. + +I found the master of the house a very kind and civil person. +Before being an inn-keeper he had been in some other line of +business; but on the death of the former proprietor of the inn had +married his widow, who was still alive, but, being somewhat infirm, +lived in a retired part of the house. I have said that he was kind +and civil; he was, however, not one of those people who suffer +themselves to be made fools of by anybody; he knew his customers, +and had a calm, clear eye, which would look through a man without +seeming to do so. The accommodation of his house was of the very +best description; his wines were good, his viands equally so, and +his charges not immoderate; though he very properly took care of +himself. He was no vulgar inn-keeper, had a host of friends, and +deserved them all. During the time I lived with him, he was +presented by a large assemblage of his friends and customers with a +dinner at his own house, which was very costly, and at which the +best of wines were sported, and after the dinner with a piece of +plate estimated at fifty guineas. He received the plate, made a +neat speech of thanks, and when the bill was called for, made +another neat speech, in which he refused to receive one farthing +for the entertainment, ordering in at the same time two dozen more +of the best champagne, and sitting down amidst uproarious applause, +and cries of "You shall be no loser by it!" Nothing very wonderful +in such conduct, some people will say; I don't say there is, nor +have I any intention to endeavour to persuade the reader that the +landlord was a Carlo Boromeo; he merely gave a quid pro quo; but it +is not every person who will give you a quid pro quo. Had he been +a vulgar publican, he would have sent in a swinging bill after +receiving the plate; "but then no vulgar publican would have been +presented with plate;" perhaps not, but many a vulgar public +character has been presented with plate, whose admirers never +received a quid pro quo, except in the shape of a swinging bill. + +I found my duties of distributing hay and corn, and keeping an +account thereof, anything but disagreeable, particularly after I +had acquired the good-will of the old ostler, who at first looked +upon me with rather an evil eye, considering me somewhat in the +light of one who had usurped an office which belonged to himself by +the right of succession; but there was little gall in the old +fellow, and, by speaking kindly to him, never giving myself any +airs of assumption; but, above all, by frequently reading the +newspapers to him--for though passionately fond of news and +politics, he was unable to read--I soon succeeded in placing myself +on excellent terms with him. A regular character was that old +ostler; he was a Yorkshireman by birth, but had seen a great deal +of life in the vicinity of London, to which, on the death of his +parents, who were very poor people, he went at a very early age. +Amongst other places where he had served as ostler was a small inn +at Hounslow, much frequented by highwaymen, whose exploits he was +fond of narrating, especially those of Jerry Abershaw, who, he +said, was a capital rider; and on hearing his accounts of that +worthy, I half regretted that the old fellow had not been in +London, and I had not formed his acquaintance about the time I was +thinking of writing the life of the said Abershaw, not doubting +that with his assistance, I could have produced a book at least as +remarkable as the life and adventures of that entirely imaginary +personage Joseph Sell; perhaps, however, I was mistaken; and +whenever Abershaw's life shall appear before the public--and my +publisher credibly informs me that it has not yet appeared--I beg +and entreat the public to state which it likes best, the life of +Abershaw, or that of Sell, for which latter work I am informed that +during the last few months there has been a prodigious demand. My +old friend, however, after talking of Abershaw, would frequently +add, that, good rider as Abershaw certainly was, he was decidedly +inferior to Richard Ferguson, generally called Galloping Dick, who +was a pal of Abershaw's, and had enjoyed a career as long, and +nearly as remarkable as his own. I learned from him that both were +capital customers at the Hounslow inn, and that he had frequently +drank with them in the corn-room. He said that no man could desire +more jolly or entertaining companions over a glass of "summut;" but +that upon the road it was anything but desirable to meet them; +there they were terrible, cursing and swearing, and thrusting the +muzzles of their pistols into people's mouths; and at this part of +his locution the old man winked, and said, in a somewhat lower +voice, that upon the whole they were right in doing so, and that +when a person had once made up his mind to become a highwayman, his +best policy was to go the whole hog, fearing nothing, but making +everybody afraid of him; that people never thought of resisting a +savage-faced, foul-mouthed highwayman, and if he were taken, were +afraid to bear witness against him, lest he should get off and cut +their throats some time or other upon the roads; whereas people +would resist being robbed by a sneaking, pale-visaged rascal, and +would swear bodily against him on the first opportunity,--adding, +that Abershaw and Ferguson, two most awful fellows, had enjoyed a +long career, whereas two disbanded officers of the army, who wished +to rob a coach like gentlemen, had begged the passengers' pardon, +and talked of hard necessity, had been set upon by the passengers +themselves, amongst whom were three women, pulled from their +horses, conducted to Maidstone, and hanged with as little pity as +such contemptible fellows deserved. "There is nothing like going +the whole hog," he repeated, "and if ever I had been a highwayman, +I would have done so; I should have thought myself all the more +safe; and, moreover, shouldn't have despised myself. To curry +favour with those you are robbing, sometimes at the expense of your +own comrades, as I have known fellows do, why, it is the greatest-- +" + +"So it is," interposed my friend the postillion, who chanced to be +present at a considerable part of the old ostler's discourse; "it +is, as you say, the greatest of humbug, and merely, after all, gets +a fellow into trouble; but no regular bred highwayman would do it. +I say, George, catch the Pope of Rome trying to curry favour with +anybody he robs; catch old Mumbo Jumbo currying favour with the +Archbishop of Canterbury and the Dean and Chapter, should he meet +them in a stage-coach; it would be with him, Bricconi Abbasso, as +he knocked their teeth out with the butt of his trombone; and the +old regular-built ruffian would be all the safer for it, as Bill +would say, as ten to one the Archbishop and Chapter, after such a +spice of his quality, would be afraid to swear against him, and to +hang him, even if he were in their power, though that would be the +proper way; for, if it is the greatest of all humbug for a +highwayman to curry favour with those he robs, the next greatest is +to try to curry favour with a highwayman when you have got him, by +letting him off." + +Finding the old man so well acquainted with the history of +highwaymen, and taking considerable interest in the subject, having +myself edited a book containing the lives of many remarkable people +who had figured on the highway, I forthwith asked him how it was +that the trade of highwaymen had become extinct in England, as at +present we never heard of any one following it. Whereupon he told +me that many causes had contributed to bring about that result; the +principal of which were the following:- the refusal to license +houses which were known to afford shelter to highwaymen, which, +amongst many others, had caused the inn at Hounslow to be closed; +the inclosure of many a wild heath in the country, on which they +were in the habit of lurking, and particularly the establishing in +the neighbourhood of London of a well-armed mounted patrol, who +rode the highwaymen down, and delivered them up to justice, which +hanged them without ceremony. + +"And that would be the way to deal with Mumbo Jumbo and his gang," +said the postillion, "should they show their visages in these +realms; and I hear by the newspapers that they are becoming every +day more desperate. Take away the license from their public- +houses, cut down the rookeries and shadowy old avenues in which +they are fond of lying in wait, in order to sally out upon people +as they pass in the roads; but, above all, establish a good mounted +police to ride after the ruffians and drag them by the scruff of +the neck to the next clink, where they might lie till they could be +properly dealt with by law; instead of which, the Government are +repealing the wise old laws enacted against such characters, giving +fresh licenses every day to their public-houses, and saying that it +would be a pity to cut down their rookeries and thickets because +they look so very picturesque; and, in fact, giving them all kind +of encouragement; why, if such behaviour is not enough to drive an +honest man mad, I know not what is. It is of no use talking, I +only wish the power were in my hands, and if I did not make short +work of them, might I be a mere jackass postillion all the +remainder of my life." + +Besides acquiring from the ancient ostler a great deal of curious +information respecting the ways and habits of the heroes of the +road, with whom he had come in contact in the early portion of his +life, I picked up from him many excellent hints relating to the art +of grooming horses. Whilst at the inn, I frequently groomed the +stage and post-horses, and those driven up by travellers in their +gigs: I was not compelled, nor indeed expected, to do so; but I +took pleasure in the occupation; and I remember at that period one +of the principal objects of my ambition was to be a first-rate +groom, and to make the skins of the creatures I took in hand look +sleek and glossy like those of moles. I have said that I derived +valuable hints from the old man, and, indeed, became a very +tolerable groom, but there was a certain finishing touch which I +could never learn from him, though he possessed it himself, and +which I could never attain to by my own endeavours; though my want +of success certainly did not proceed from want of application, for +I have rubbed the horses down, purring and buzzing all the time, +after the genuine ostler fashion, until the perspiration fell in +heavy drops upon my shoes, and when I had done my best and asked +the old fellow what he thought of my work, I could never extract +from him more than a kind of grunt, which might be translated, "Not +so very bad, but I have seen a horse groomed much better," which +leads me to suppose that a person, in order to be a first-rate +groom, must have something in him when he is born which I had not, +and, indeed, which many other people have not who pretend to be +grooms. What does the reader think? + + + +CHAPTER XXV + + + +Stable Hartshorn--How to Manage a Horse on a Journey--Your Best +Friend. + + +Of one thing I am certain, that the reader must be much delighted +with the wholesome smell of the stable, with which many of these +pages are redolent; what a contrast to the sickly odours exhaled +from those of some of my contemporaries, especially of those who +pretend to be of the highly fashionable class, and who treat of +reception-rooms, well may they be styled so, in which dukes, +duchesses, earls, countesses, archbishops, bishops, mayors, +mayoresses--not forgetting the writers themselves, both male and +female--congregate and press upon one another; how cheering, how +refreshing, after having been nearly knocked down with such an +atmosphere, to come in contact with genuine stable hartshorn. Oh! +the reader shall have yet more of the stable, and of that old +ostler, for which he or she will doubtless exclaim, "Much +obliged!"--and, lest I should forget to perform my promise, the +reader shall have it now. + +I shall never forget an harangue from the mouth of the old man, +which I listened to one warm evening as he and I sat on the +threshold of the stable, after having attended to some of the wants +of a batch of coach-horses. It related to the manner in which a +gentleman should take care of his horse and self, whilst engaged in +a journey on horseback, and was addressed to myself, on the +supposition of my one day coming to an estate, and of course +becoming a gentleman. + +"When you are a gentleman," said he, "should you ever journey on a +horse of your own, and you could not have a much better than the +one you have here eating its fill in the box yonder--I wonder, by +the bye, how you ever came by it--you can't do better than follow +the advice I am about to give you, both with respect to your animal +and yourself. Before you start, merely give your horse a couple of +handfuls of corn and a little water, somewhat under a quart, and if +you drink a pint of water yourself out of the pail, you will feel +all the better during the whole day; then you may walk and trot +your animal for about ten miles, till you come to some nice inn, +where you may get down and see your horse led into a nice stall, +telling the ostler not to feed him till you come. If the ostler +happens to be a dog-fancier, and has an English terrier-dog like +that of mine there, say what a nice dog it is, and praise its black +and tawn; and if he does not happen to be a dog-fancier, ask him +how he's getting on, and whether he ever knew worse times; that +kind of thing will please the ostler, and he will let you do just +what you please with your own horse, and when your back is turned, +he'll say to his comrades what a nice gentleman you are, and how he +thinks he has seen you before; then go and sit down to breakfast, +and, before you have finished breakfast, get up and go and give +your horse a feed of corn; chat with the ostler two or three +minutes till your horse has taken the shine out of his corn, which +will prevent the ostler taking any of it away when your back is +turned, for such things are sometimes done--not that I ever did +such a thing myself when I was at the inn at Hounslow. Oh, dear +me, no! Then go and finish your breakfast, and when you have +finished your breakfast and called for the newspaper, go and water +your horse, letting him have one pailful, then give him another +feed of corn, and enter into discourse with the ostler about bull- +baiting, the prime minister, and the like; and when your horse has +once more taken the shine out of his corn, go back to your room and +your newspaper--and I hope for your sake it may be the Globe, for +that's the best paper going--then pull the bell-rope and order in +your bill, which you will pay without counting it up--supposing you +to be a gentleman. Give the waiter sixpence, and order out your +horse, and when your horse is out, pay for the corn, and give the +ostler a shilling, then mount your horse and walk him gently for +five miles; and whilst you are walking him in this manner, it may +be as well to tell you to take care that you do not let him down +and smash his knees, more especially if the road be a particularly +good one, for it is not at a desperate hiverman pace, and over very +bad roads, that a horse tumbles and smashes his knees, but on your +particularly nice road, when the horse is going gently and lazily, +and is half asleep, like the gemman on his back; well, at the end +of the five miles, when the horse has digested his food, and is all +right, you may begin to push your horse on, trotting him a mile at +a heat, and then walking him a quarter of a one, that his wind may +be not distressed; and you may go on in that way for thirty miles, +never galloping, of course, for none but fools or hivermen ever +gallop horses on roads; and at the end of that distance you may +stop at some other nice inn to dinner. I say, when your horse is +led into the stable, after that same thirty miles' trotting and +walking, don't let the saddle be whisked off at once, for if you do +your horse will have such a sore back as will frighten you, but let +your saddle remain on your horse's back, with the girths loosened, +till after his next feed of corn, and be sure that he has no corn, +much less water, till after a long hour and more; after he is fed +he may be watered to the tune of half a pail, and then the ostler +can give him a regular rub down; you may then sit down to dinner, +and when you have dined get up and see to your horse as you did +after breakfast, in fact, you must do much after the same fashion +you did at t'other inn; see to your horse, and by no means +disoblige the ostler. So when you have seen to your horse a second +time, you will sit down to your bottle of wine--supposing you to be +a gentleman--and after you have finished it, and your argument +about the corn-laws with any commercial gentleman who happens to be +in the room, you may mount your horse again--not forgetting to do +the proper thing to the waiter and ostler; you may mount your horse +again and ride him, as you did before, for about five and twenty +miles, at the end of which you may put up for the night after a +very fair day's journey, for no gentleman--supposing he weighs +sixteen stone, as I suppose you will by the time you become a +gentleman--ought to ride a horse more than sixty-five miles in one +day, provided he has any regard for his horse's back, or his own +either. See to your horse at night, and have him well rubbed down. +The next day you may ride your horse forty miles, just as you +please, but never foolishly, and those forty miles will bring you +to your journey's end, unless your journey be a plaguy long one, +and if so, never ride your horse more than five and thirty miles a +day, always, however, seeing him well fed, and taking more care of +him than yourself; which is but right and reasonable, seeing as how +the horse is the best animal of the two." + +"When you are a gentleman," said he, after a pause, "the first +thing you must think about is to provide yourself with a good horse +for your own particular riding; you will, perhaps, keep a coach and +pair, but they will be less your own than your lady's, should you +have one, and your young gentry, should you have any; or, if you +have neither, for madam, your housekeeper, and the upper female +servants; so you need trouble your head less about them, though, of +course, you would not like to pay away your money for screws; but +be sure you get a good horse for your own riding; and that you may +have a good chance of having a good one, buy one that's young and +has plenty of belly--a little more than the one has which you now +have, though you are not yet a gentleman; you will, of course, look +to his head, his withers, legs and other points, but never buy a +horse at any price that has not plenty of belly; no horse that has +not belly is ever a good feeder, and a horse that a'n't a good +feeder can't be a good horse; never buy a horse that is drawn up in +the belly behind; a horse of that description can't feed, and can +never carry sixteen stone. + +"So when you have got such a horse be proud of it--as I daresay you +are of the one you have now--and wherever you go swear there a'n't +another to match it in the country, and if anybody gives you the +lie, take him by the nose and tweak it off, just as you would do if +anybody were to speak ill of your lady, or, for want of her, of +your housekeeper. Take care of your horse, as you would of the +apple of your eye--I am sure I would, if I were a gentleman, which +I don't ever expect to be, and hardly wish, seeing as how I am +sixty-nine, and am rather too old to ride--yes, cherish and take +care of your horse as perhaps the best friend you have in the +world; for, after all, who will carry you through thick and thin as +your horse will? not your gentlemen friends, I warrant, nor your +upper servants, male or female; perhaps your lady would, that is, +if she is a whopper, and one of the right sort; the others would be +more likely to take up mud and pelt you with it, provided they saw +you in trouble, than to help you. So take care of your horse, and +feed him every day with your own hands; give him three quarters of +a peck of corn each day, mixed up with a little hay-chaff, and +allow him besides one hundredweight of hay in the course of the +week; some say that the hay should be hardland hay, because it is +the wholesomest, but I say, let it be clover hay, because the horse +likes it best; give him through summer and winter, once a week, a +pailful of bran mash, cold in summer and in winter hot; ride him +gently about the neighbourhood every day, by which means you will +give exercise to yourself and horse, and, moreover, have the +satisfaction of exhibiting yourself and your horse to advantage, +and hearing, perhaps, the men say what a fine horse, and the ladies +saying what a fine man: never let your groom mount your horse, as +it is ten to one, if you do, your groom will be wishing to show off +before company, and will fling your horse down. I was groom to a +gemman before I went to the inn at Hounslow, and flung him a horse +down worth ninety guineas, by endeavouring to show off before some +ladies that I met on the road. Turn your horse out to grass +throughout May and the first part of June, for then the grass is +sweetest, and the flies don't sting so bad as they do later in +summer; afterwards merely turn him out occasionally in the swale of +the morn and the evening; after September the grass is good for +little, lash and sour at best; every horse should go out to grass, +if not his blood becomes full of greasy humours, and his wind is +apt to become affected, but he ought to be kept as much as possible +from the heat and flies, always got up at night, and never turned +out late in the year--Lord! if I had always such a nice attentive +person to listen to me as you are, I could go on talking about +'orses to the end of time." + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + + + +The Stage--Coachmen of England--A Bully Served Out--Broughton's +Guard--The Brazen Head. + + +I lived on very good terms, not only with the master and the old +ostler, but with all the domestics and hangers on at the inn; +waiters, chambermaids, cooks, and scullions, not forgetting the +"boots," of which there were three. As for the postillions, I was +sworn brother with them all, and some of them went so far as to +swear that I was the best fellow in the world; for which high +opinion entertained by them of me, I believe I was principally +indebted to the good account their comrade gave of me, whom I had +so hospitably received in the dingle. I repeat that I lived on +good terms with all the people connected with the inn, and was +noticed and spoken kindly to by some of the guests--especially by +that class termed commercial travellers--all of whom were great +friends and patronizers of the landlord, and were the principal +promoters of the dinner, and subscribers to the gift of plate, +which I have already spoken of, the whole fraternity striking me as +the jolliest set of fellows imaginable, the best customers to an +inn, and the most liberal to servants; there was one description of +persons, however, frequenting the inn, which I did not like at all, +and which I did not get on well with, and these people were the +stage-coachmen. + +The stage-coachmen of England, at the time of which I am speaking, +considered themselves mighty fine gentry, nay, I verily believe the +most important personages of the realm, and their entertaining this +high opinion of themselves can scarcely be wondered at; they were +low fellows, but masters at driving; driving was in fashion, and +sprigs of nobility used to dress as coachmen and imitate the slang +and behaviour of the coachmen, from whom occasionally they would +take lessons in driving as they sat beside them on the box, which +post of honour any sprig of nobility who happened to take a place +on a coach claimed as his unquestionable right; and these sprigs +would smoke cigars and drink sherry with the coachmen in bar-rooms, +and on the road; and, when bidding them farewell, would give them a +guinea or a half-guinea, and shake them by the hand, so that these +fellows, being low fellows, very naturally thought no small liquor +of themselves, but would talk familiarly of their friends lords so +and so, the honourable misters so and so, and Sir Harry and Sir +Charles, and be wonderfully saucy to any one who was not a lord, or +something of the kind; and this high opinion of themselves received +daily augmentation from the servile homage paid them by the +generality of the untitled male passengers, especially those on the +fore part of the coach, who used to contend for the honour of +sitting on the box with the coachman when no sprig was nigh to put +in his claim. Oh! what servile homage these craven creatures did +pay these same coach fellows, more especially after witnessing this +or t'other act of brutality practised upon the weak and +unoffending--upon some poor friendless woman travelling with but +little money, and perhaps a brace of hungry children with her, or +upon some thin and half-starved man travelling on the hind part of +the coach from London to Liverpool with only eighteen pence in his +pocket after his fare was paid, to defray his expenses on the road; +for as the insolence of these knights was vast, so was their +rapacity enormous; they had been so long accustomed to have crowns +and half-crowns rained upon them by their admirers and flatterers, +that they would look at a shilling, for which many an honest +labourer was happy to toil for ten hours under a broiling sun, with +the utmost contempt; would blow upon it derisively, or fillip it +into the air before they pocketed it; but when nothing was given +them, as would occasionally happen--for how could they receive from +those who had nothing? and nobody was bound to give them anything, +as they had certain wages from their employers--then what a scene +would ensue! Truly the brutality and rapacious insolence of +English coachmen had reached a climax; it was time that these +fellows should be disenchanted, and the time--thank Heaven!--was +not far distant. Let the craven dastards who used to curry favour +with them, and applaud their brutality, lament their loss now that +they and their vehicles have disappeared from the roads; I, who +have ever been an enemy to insolence, cruelty, and tyranny, loathe +their memory, and, what is more, am not afraid to say so, well +aware of the storm of vituperation, partly learnt from them, which +I may expect from those who used to fall down and worship them. + +Amongst the coachmen who frequented the inn was one who was called +"the bang-up coachman." He drove to our inn, in the fore part of +every day, one of what were called the fast coaches, and afterwards +took back the corresponding vehicle. He stayed at our house about +twenty minutes, during which time the passengers of the coach which +he was to return with dined; those at least who were inclined for +dinner, and could pay for it. He derived his sobriquet of "the +bang-up coachman" partly from his being dressed in the extremity of +coach dandyism, and partly from the peculiar insolence of his +manner, and the unmerciful fashion in which he was in the habit of +lashing on the poor horses committed to his charge. He was a large +tall fellow, of about thirty, with a face which, had it not been +bloated by excess, and insolence and cruelty stamped most visibly +upon it, might have been called good-looking. His insolence indeed +was so great, that he was hated by all the minor fry connected with +coaches along the road upon which he drove, especially the ostlers, +whom he was continually abusing or finding fault with. Many was +the hearty curse which he received when his back was turned; but +the generality of people were much afraid of him, for he was a +swinging strong fellow, and had the reputation of being a fighter, +and in one or two instances had beaten in a barbarous manner +individuals who had quarrelled with him. + +I was nearly having a fracas with this worthy. One day, after he +had been drinking sherry with a sprig, he swaggered into the yard +where I happened to be standing; just then a waiter came by +carrying upon a tray part of a splendid Cheshire cheese, with a +knife, plate, and napkin. Stopping the waiter, the coachman cut +with the knife a tolerably large lump out of the very middle of the +cheese, stuck it on the end of the knife, and putting it to his +mouth nibbled a slight piece off it, and then, tossing the rest +away with disdain, flung the knife down upon the tray, motioning +the waiter to proceed; "I wish," said I, "you may not want before +you die what you have just flung away," whereupon the fellow turned +furiously towards me; just then, however, his coach being standing +at the door, there was a cry for coachman, so that he was forced to +depart, contenting himself for the present with shaking his fist at +me, and threatening to serve me out on the first opportunity; +before, however, the opportunity occurred he himself got served out +in a most unexpected manner. + +The day after this incident he drove his coach to the inn, and +after having dismounted and received the contributions of the +generality of the passengers, he strutted up, with a cigar in his +mouth, to an individual who had come with him, and who had just +asked me a question with respect to the direction of a village +about three miles off, to which he was going. "Remember the +coachman," said the knight of the box to this individual, who was a +thin person of about sixty, with a white hat, rather shabby black +coat, and buff-coloured trousers, and who held an umbrella and a +small bundle in his hand. "If you expect me to give you anything," +said he to the coachman, "you are mistaken; I will give you +nothing. You have been very insolent to me as I rode behind you on +the coach, and have encouraged two or three trumpery fellows, who +rode along with you, to cut scurvy jokes at my expense, and now you +come to me for money; I am not so poor, but I could have given you +a shilling had you been civil; as it is, I will give you nothing." +"Oh! you won't, won't you?" said the coachman; "dear me! I hope I +shan't starve because you won't give me anything--a shilling I why, +I could afford to give you twenty if I thought fit, you pauper! +civil to you, indeed! things are come to a fine pass if I need be +civil to you! Do you know who you are speaking to? why, the best +lords in the country are proud to speak to me. Why, it was only +the other day that the Marquis of--said to me--" and then he went +on to say what the Marquis said to him; after which, flinging down +his cigar, he strutted up the road, swearing to himself about +paupers. + +"You say it is three miles to -," said the individual to me; "I +think I shall light my pipe, and smoke it as I go along." +Thereupon he took out from a side-pocket a tobacco-box and short +meerschaum pipe, and implements for striking a light, filled his +pipe, lighted it, and commenced smoking. Presently the coachman +drew near. I saw at once that there was mischief in his eye; the +man smoking was standing with his back towards him, and he came so +nigh to him, seemingly purposely, that as he passed a puff of smoke +came of necessity against his face. "What do you mean by smoking +in my face?" said he, striking the pipe of the elderly individual +out of his mouth. The other, without manifesting much surprise, +said, "I thank you; and if you will wait a minute, I will give you +a receipt for that favour;" then gathering up his pipe, and taking +off his coat and hat, he laid them on a stepping-block which stood +near, and rubbing his hands together, he advanced towards the +coachman in an attitude of offence, holding his hands crossed very +near to his face. The coachman, who probably expected anything but +such a movement from a person of the age and appearance of the +individual whom he had insulted, stood for a moment motionless with +surprise; but, recollecting himself, he pointed at him derisively +with his finger; the next moment, however, the other was close upon +him, had struck aside the extended hand with his left fist, and +given him a severe blow on the nose with his right, which he +immediately followed by a left-hand blow in the eye; then drawing +his body slightly backward, with the velocity of lightning he +struck the coachman full in the mouth, and the last blow was the +severest of all, for it cut the coachman's lips nearly through; +blows so quickly and sharply dealt I had never seen. The coachman +reeled like a fir-tree in a gale, and seemed nearly unsensed. "Ho! +what's this? a fight! a fight!" sounded from a dozen voices, and +people came running from all directions to see what was going on. +The coachman, coming somewhat to himself, disencumbered himself of +his coat and hat; and, encouraged by two or three of his brothers +of the whip, showed some symptoms of fighting, endeavouring to +close with his foe, but the attempt was vain, for his foe was not +to be closed with; he did not shift or dodge about, but warded off +the blows of his opponent with the greatest sang-froid, always +using the guard which I have already described, and putting in, in +return, short chopping blows with the swiftness of lightning. In a +very few minutes the countenance of the coachman was literally cut +to pieces, and several of his teeth were dislodged; at length he +gave in; stung with mortification, however, he repented, and asked +for another round; it was granted, to his own complete demolition. +The coachman did not drive his coach back that day, he did not +appear on the box again for a week; but he never held up his head +afterwards. Before I quitted the inn, he had disappeared from the +road, going no one knew where. + +The coachman, as I have said before, was very much disliked upon +the road, but there was an esprit de corps amongst the coachmen, +and those who stood by did not like to see their brother chastised +in such tremendous fashion. "I never saw such a fight before," +said one. "Fight! why, I don't call it a fight at all; this chap +here ha'n't got a scratch, whereas Tom is cut to pieces; it is all +along of that guard of his; if Tom could have got within his guard +he would have soon served the old chap out." "So he would," said +another, "it was all owing to that guard. However, I think I see +into it, and if I had not to drive this afternoon, I would have a +turn with the old fellow and soon serve him out." "I will fight +him now for a guinea," said the other coachman, half taking off his +coat; observing, however, that the elderly individual made a motion +towards him, he hitched it upon his shoulder again, and added, +"that is, if he had not been fighting already, but as it is, I am +above taking an advantage, especially of such a poor old creature +as that." And when he had said this, he looked around him, and +there was a feeble titter of approbation from two or three of the +craven crew, who were in the habit of currying favour with the +coachmen. The elderly individual looked for a moment at these +last, and then said, "To such fellows as you I have nothing to +say;" then turning to the coachmen, "and as for you," he said, "ye +cowardly bullies, I have but one word, which is, that your reign +upon the roads is nearly over, and that a time is coming when ye +will no longer be wanted or employed in your present capacity, when +ye will either have to drive dung-carts, assist as ostlers at +village ale-houses, or rot in the workhouse." Then putting on his +coat and hat, and taking up his bundle, not forgetting his +meerschaum, and the rest of his smoking apparatus, he departed on +his way. Filled with curiosity, I followed him. + +"I am quite astonished that you should be able to use your hands in +the way you have done," said I, as I walked with this individual in +the direction in which he was bound. + +"I will tell you how I became able to do so," said the elderly +individual, proceeding to fill and light his pipe as he walked +along. "My father was a journeyman engraver, who lived in a very +riotous neighbourhood in the outskirts of London. Wishing to give +me something of an education, he sent me to a day-school, two or +three streets distant from where we lived, and there, being rather +a puny boy, I suffered much persecution from my schoolfellows, who +were a very blackguard set. One day, as I was running home, with +one of my tormentors pursuing me, old Sergeant Broughton, the +retired fighting-man, seized me by the arm--" + +"Dear me," said I, "has it ever been your luck to be acquainted +with Sergeant Broughton?" + +"You may well call it luck," said the elderly individual; but for +him I should never have been able to make my way through the world. +He lived only four doors from our house; so, as I was running along +the street, with my tyrant behind me, Sergeant Broughton seized me +by the arm. 'Stop, my boy,' said he; 'I have frequently seen that +scamp ill-treating you; now I will teach you how to send him home +with a bloody nose; down with your bag of books; and now, my game +chick,' whispered he to me, placing himself between me and my +adversary, so that he could not observe his motions; 'clench your +fist in this manner, and hold your arms in this, and when he +strikes at you, move them as I now show you, and he can't hurt you; +now, don't be afraid, but go at him.' I confess that I was +somewhat afraid, but I considered myself in some degree under the +protection of the famous Sergeant, and, clenching my fist, I went +at my foe, using the guard which my ally recommended. The result +corresponded to a certain degree with the predictions of the +Sergeant; I gave my foe a bloody nose and a black eye, though, +notwithstanding my recent lesson in the art of self-defence, he +contrived to give me two or three clumsy blows. From that moment I +was the especial favourite of the Sergeant, who gave me further +lessons, so that in a little time I became a very fair boxer, +beating everybody of my own size who attacked me. The old +gentleman, however, made me promise never to be quarrelsome, nor to +turn his instructions to account, except in self-defence. I have +always borne in mind my promise, and have made it a point of +conscience never to fight unless absolutely compelled. Folks may +rail against boxing if they please, but being able to box may +sometimes stand a quiet man in good stead. How should I have fared +to-day, but for the instructions of Sergeant Broughton? But for +them, the brutal ruffian who insulted me must have passed +unpunished. He will not soon forget the lesson which I have just +given him--the only lesson he could understand. What would have +been the use of reasoning with a fellow of that description? Brave +old Broughton! I owe him much." + +"And your manner of fighting," said I, "was the manner employed by +Sergeant Broughton?" + +"Yes," said my new acquaintance; "it was the manner in which he +beat every one who attempted to contend with him, till, in an evil +hour, he entered the ring with Slack, without any training or +preparation, and by a chance blow lost the battle to a man who had +been beaten with ease by those who, in the hands of Broughton, +appeared like so many children. It was the way of fighting of him +who first taught Englishmen to box scientifically, who was the head +and father of the fighters of what is now called the old school, +the last of which were Johnson and Big Ben." + +"A wonderful man, that Big Ben," said I. + +"He was so," said the elderly individual; "but had it not been for +Broughton, I question whether Ben would have ever been the fighter +he was. Oh! there was no one like old Broughton; but for him I +should at the present moment be sneaking along the road, pursued by +the hissings and hootings of the dirty flatterers of that +blackguard coachman." + +"What did you mean," said I, "by those words of yours, that the +coachmen would speedily disappear from the roads?" + +"I meant," said he, "that a new method of travelling is about to be +established, which will supersede the old. I am a poor engraver, +as my father was before me; but engraving is an intellectual trade, +and by following it, I have been brought in contact with some of +the cleverest men in England. It has even made me acquainted with +the projector of the scheme, which he has told me many of the +wisest heads of England have been dreaming of during a period of +six hundred years, and which it seems was alluded to by a certain +Brazen Head in the story-book of Friar Bacon, who is generally +supposed to have been a wizard, but in reality was a great +philosopher. Young man, in less than twenty years, by which time I +shall be dead and gone, England will be surrounded with roads of +metal, on which armies may travel with mighty velocity, and of +which the walls of brass and iron by which the friar proposed to +defend his native land are the types." He then, shaking me by the +hand, proceeded on his way, whilst I returned to the inn. + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + + + +Francis Ardry--His Misfortunes--Dog and Lion Fight--Great Men of +the World. + + +A few days after the circumstance which I have last commemorated, +it chanced that, as I was standing at the door of the inn, one of +the numerous stage-coaches which were in the habit of stopping +there, drove up, and several passengers got down. I had assisted a +woman with a couple of children to dismount, and had just delivered +to her a band-box, which appeared to be her only property, which +she had begged me to fetch down from the roof, when I felt a hand +laid upon my shoulder, and heard a voice exclaim, "Is it possible, +old fellow, that I find you in this place?" I turned round, and, +wrapped in a large blue cloak, I beheld my good friend Francis +Ardry. I shook him most warmly by the hand, and said, "If you are +surprised to see me, I am no less so to see you; where are you +bound to?" + +"I am bound for L-; at any rate, I am booked for that sea-port," +said my friend in reply. + +"I am sorry for it," said I, "for in that case we shall have to +part in a quarter of an hour, the coach by which you came stopping +no longer." + +"And whither are you bound?" demanded my friend. + +"I am stopping at present in this house, quite undetermined as to +what to do." + +"Then come along with me," said Francis Ardry. + +"That I can scarcely do," said I; "I have a horse in the stall +which I cannot afford to ruin by racing to L--- by the side of your +coach." + +My friend mused for a moment: "I have no particular business at L- +--," said he; "I was merely going thither to pass a day or two, +till an affair, in which I am deeply interested, at C--- shall come +off. I think I shall stay with you for four-and-twenty hours at +least; I have been rather melancholy of late, and cannot afford to +part with a friend like you at the present moment; it is an +unexpected piece of good fortune to have met you; and I have not +been very fortunate of late," he added, sighing. + +"Well," said I, "I am glad to see you once more, whether fortunate, +or not; where is your baggage?" + +"Yon trunk is mine," said Francis, pointing to a trunk of black +Russian leather upon the coach. + +"We will soon have it down," said I; and at a word which I gave to +one of the hangers-on of the inn, the trunk was taken from the top +of the coach. "Now," said I to Francis Ardry, "follow me, I am a +person of some authority in this house;" thereupon I led Francis +Ardry into the house, and a word which I said to a waiter forthwith +installed Francis Ardry in a comfortable private sitting-room, and +his trunk in the very best sleeping-room of our extensive +establishment. + +It was now about one o'clock: Francis Ardry ordered dinner for +two, to be ready at four, and a pint of sherry to be brought +forthwith, which I requested my friend the waiter might be the very +best, and which in effect turned out as I requested; we sat down, +and when we had drunk to each other's health, Frank requested me to +make known to him how I had contrived to free myself from my +embarrassments in London, what I had been about since I quitted +that city, and the present posture of my affairs. + +I related to Francis Ardry how I had composed the Life of Joseph +Sell, and how the sale of it to the bookseller had enabled me to +quit London with money in my pocket, which had supported me during +a long course of ramble in the country, into the particulars of +which I, however, did not enter with any considerable degree of +fulness. I summed up my account by saying that "I was at present a +kind of overlooker in the stables of the inn, had still some pounds +in my purse, and, moreover, a capital horse in the stall." + +"No very agreeable posture of affairs," said Francis Ardry, looking +rather seriously at me. + +"I make no complaints," said I, "my prospects are not very bright, +it is true, but sometimes I have visions both waking and sleeping, +which, though always strange, are invariably agreeable. Last +night, in my chamber near the hayloft, I dreamt that I had passed +over an almost interminable wilderness--an enormous wall rose +before me, the wall, methought, was the great wall of China:- +strange figures appeared to be beckoning to me from the top of the +wall; such visions are not exactly to be sneered at. Not that such +phantasmagoria," said I, raising my voice, "are to be compared for +a moment with such desirable things as fashion, fine clothes, +cheques from uncles, parliamentary interest, the love of splendid +females. Ah! woman's love," said I, and sighed. + +"What's the matter with the fellow?" said Francis Ardry. + +"There is nothing like it," said I. + +"Like what?" + +"Love, divine love," said I. + +"Confound love," said Francis Ardry, "I hate the very name; I have +made myself a pretty fool by it, but trust me for ever being at +such folly again. In an evil hour I abandoned my former pursuits +and amusements for it; in one morning spent at Joey's there was +more real pleasure than in--" + +"Surely," said I, "you are not hankering after dog-fighting again, +a sport which none but the gross and unrefined care anything for? +No, one's thoughts should be occupied by something higher and more +rational than dog-fighting; and what better than love--divine love? +Oh, there's nothing like it!" + +"Pray, don't talk nonsense," said Francis Ardry. + +"Nonsense," said I; "why I was repeating, to the best of my +recollection, what I heard you say on a former occasion." + +"If ever I talked such stuff," said Francis Ardry, "I was a fool; +and indeed I cannot deny that I have been one: no, there's no +denying that I have been a fool. What do you think? that false +Annette has cruelly abandoned me." + +"Well," said I, "perhaps you have yourself to thank for her having +done so; did you never treat her with coldness, and repay her marks +of affectionate interest with strange fits of eccentric humour?" + +"Lord! how little you know of women," said Francis Ardry; "had I +done as you suppose, I should probably have possessed her at the +present moment. I treated her in a manner diametrically opposite +to that. I loaded her with presents, was always most assiduous to +her, always at her feet, as I may say, yet she nevertheless +abandoned me--and for whom? I am almost ashamed to say--for a +fiddler." + +I took a glass of wine, Francis Ardry followed my example, and then +proceeded to detail to me the treatment which he had experienced +from Annette, and from what he said, it appeared that her conduct +to him had been in the highest degree reprehensible; +notwithstanding he had indulged her in everything, she was never +civil to him, but loaded him continually with taunts and insults, +and had finally, on his being unable to supply her with a sum of +money which she had demanded, decamped from the lodgings which he +had taken for her, carrying with her all the presents which at +various times he had bestowed upon her, and had put herself under +the protection of a gentleman who played the bassoon at the Italian +Opera, at which place it appeared that her sister had lately been +engaged as a danseuse. My friend informed me that at first he had +experienced great agony at the ingratitude of Annette, but at last +had made up his mind to forget her, and, in order more effectually +to do so, had left London with the intention of witnessing a fight, +which was shortly coming off at a town in these parts, between some +dogs and a lion; which combat, he informed me, had for some time +past been looked forward to with intense eagerness by the gentlemen +of the sporting world. + +I commended him for his resolution, at the same time advising him +not to give up his mind entirely to dog-fighting, as he had +formerly done, but, when the present combat should be over, to +return to his rhetorical studies, and above all to marry some rich +and handsome lady on the first opportunity, as, with his person and +expectations, he had only to sue for the hand of the daughter of a +marquis to be successful, telling him, with a sigh, that all women +were not Annettes, and that, upon the whole, there was nothing like +them. To which advice he answered, that he intended to return to +rhetoric as soon as the lion fight should be over, but that he +never intended to marry, having had enough of women; adding that he +was glad he had no sister, as, with the feelings which he +entertained with respect to her sex, he should be unable to treat +her with common affection, and concluded by repeating a proverb +which he had learnt from an Arab whom he had met at Venice, to the +effect, that, "one who has been stung by a snake, shivers at the +sight of a sting." + +After a little more conversation, we strolled to the stable, where +my horse was standing; my friend, who was a connoisseur in +horseflesh, surveyed the animal with attention, and after inquiring +where and how I had obtained him, asked what I intended to do with +him; on my telling him that I was undetermined, and that I was +afraid the horse was likely to prove a burden to me, he said, "It +is a noble animal, and if you mind what you are about, you may make +a small fortune by him. I do not want such an animal myself, nor +do I know any one who does; but a great horse-fair will be held +shortly at a place where, it is true, I have never been, but of +which I have heard a great deal from my acquaintances, where it is +said a first-rate horse is always sure to fetch its value; that +place is Horncastle, in Lincolnshire, you should take him thither." + +Francis Ardry and myself dined together, and after dinner partook +of a bottle of the best port which the inn afforded. After a few +glasses, we had a great deal of conversation; I again brought the +subject of marriage and love, divine love, upon the carpet, but +Francis almost immediately begged me to drop it; and on my having +the delicacy to comply, he reverted to dog-fighting, on which he +talked well and learnedly; amongst other things, he said it was a +princely sport of great antiquity, and quoted from Quintus Curtius +to prove that the princes of India must have been of the fancy, +they having, according to that author, treated Alexander to a fight +between certain dogs and a lion. Becoming, notwithstanding my +friend's eloquence and learning, somewhat tired of the subject, I +began to talk about Alexander. Francis Ardry said he was one of +the two great men whom the world has produced, the other being +Napoleon; I replied that I believed Tamerlane was a greater man +than either; but Francis Ardry knew nothing of Tamerlane, save what +he had gathered from the play of Timour the Tartar. "No," said he, +"Alexander and Napoleon are the great men of the world, their names +are known everywhere. Alexander has been dead upwards of two +thousand years, but the very English bumpkins sometimes christen +their boys by the name of Alexander--can there be a greater +evidence of his greatness? As for Napoleon, there are some parts +of India in which his bust is worshipped." Wishing to make up a +triumvirate, I mentioned the name of Wellington, to which Francis +Ardry merely said, "bah!" and resumed the subject of dog-fighting. + +Francis Ardry remained at the inn during that day and the next, and +then departed to the dog and lion fight; I never saw him +afterwards, and merely heard of him once after a lapse of some +years, and what I then heard was not exactly what I could have +wished to hear. He did not make much of the advantages which he +possessed, a pity, for how great were those advantages--person, +intellect, eloquence, connection, riches! yet, with all these +advantages, one thing highly needful seems to have been wanting in +Francis. A desire, a craving, to perform something great and good. +Oh! what a vast deal may be done with intellect, courage, riches, +accompanied by the desire of ,doing something great and good! Why, +a person may carry the blessings of civilization and religion to +barbarous, yet at the same time beautiful and romantic lands; and +what a triumph there is for him who does so! what a crown of glory! +of far greater value than those surrounding the brows of your mere +conquerors. Yet who has done so in these times? Not many; not +three, not two, something seems to have been always wanting; there +is, however, one instance, in which the various requisites have +been united, and the crown, the most desirable in the world--at +least which I consider to be the most desirable--achieved, and only +one, that of Brooke of Borneo. + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + + + +Mr. Platitude and the Man in Black--The Postillion's Adventures-- +The Lone House--A Goodly Assemblage. + + +It never rains, but it pours. I was destined to see at this inn +more acquaintances than one. On the day of Francis Ardry's +departure, shortly after he had taken leave of me, as I was +standing in the corn-chamber, at a kind of writing-table or desk, +fastened to the wall, with a book before me, in which I was making +out an account of the corn and hay lately received and distributed, +my friend the postillion came running in out of breath. "Here they +both are," he gasped out; "pray do come and look at them." + +"Whom do you mean?" said I. + +"Why, that red-haired Jack Priest, and that idiotic parson, +Platitude; they have just been set down by one of the coaches, and +want a postchaise to go across the country in; and what do you +think? I am to have the driving of them. I have no time to lose, +for I must get myself ready; so do come and look at them." + +I hastened into the yard of the inn; two or three of the helpers of +our establishment were employed in drawing forward a postchaise out +of the chaise-house, which occupied one side of the yard, and which +was spacious enough to contain nearly twenty of these vehicles, +though it was never full, several of them being always out upon the +roads, as the demand upon us for postchaises across the country was +very great. "There they are," said the postillion, softly, nodding +towards two individuals, in one of whom I recognized the man in +black, and in the other Mr. Platitude; "there they are; have a good +look at them, while I go and get ready." The man in black and Mr. +Platitude were walking up and down the yard, Mr. Platitude was +doing his best to make himself appear ridiculous, talking very +loudly in exceedingly bad Italian, evidently for the purpose of +attracting the notice of the bystanders, in which he succeeded, all +the stable-boys and hangers-on about the yard, attracted by his +vociferation, grinning at his ridiculous figure as he limped up and +down. The man in black said little or nothing, but from the +glances which he cast sideways appeared to be thoroughly ashamed of +his companion; the worthy couple presently arrived close to where I +was standing, and the man in black, who was nearest to me, +perceiving me, stood still as if hesitating, but recovering himself +in a moment, he moved on without taking any farther notice; Mr. +Platitude exclaimed as they passed in broken lingo, "I hope we +shall find the holy doctors all assembled," and as they returned, +"I make no doubt that they will all be rejoiced to see me." Not +wishing to be standing an idle gazer, I went to the chaise and +assisted in attaching the horses, which had now been brought out, +to the pole. The postillion presently arrived, and finding all +ready took the reins and mounted the box, whilst I very politely +opened the door for the two travellers; Mr. Platitude got in first, +and, without taking any notice of me, seated himself on the farther +side. In got the man in black, and seated himself nearest to me. +"All is right," said I, as I shut the door, whereupon the +postillion cracked his whip, and the chaise drove out of the yard. +Just as I shut the door, however, and just as Mr. Platitude had +recommenced talking in jergo, at the top of his voice, the man in +black turned his face partly towards me, and gave me a wink with +his left eye. + +I did not see my friend the postillion till the next morning, when +he gave me an account of the adventures he had met with on his +expedition. It appeared that he had driven the man in black and +the Reverend Platitude across the country by roads and lanes which +he had some difficulty in threading. At length, when he had +reached a part of the country where he had never been before, the +man in black pointed out to him a house near the corner of a wood, +to which he informed him they were bound. The postillion said it +was a strange-looking house, with a wall round it; and, upon the +whole, bore something of the look of a madhouse. There was already +a postchaise at the gate, from which three individuals had +alighted--one of them the postillion said was a mean-looking +scoundrel, with a regular petty-larceny expression in his +countenance. He was dressed very much like the man in black, and +the postillion said that he could almost have taken his Bible oath +that they were both of the same profession. The other two he said +were parsons, he could swear that, though he had never seen them +before; there could be no mistake about them. Church of England +parsons the postillion swore they were, with their black coats, +white cravats, and airs, in which clumsiness and conceit were most +funnily blended--Church of England parsons of the Platitude +description, who had been in Italy, and seen the Pope, and kissed +his toe, and picked up a little broken Italian, and come home +greater fools than they went forth. It appeared that they were all +acquaintances of Mr. Platitude, for when the postillion had +alighted and let Mr. Platitude and his companion out of the chaise, +Mr. Platitude shook the whole three by the hand, conversed with his +two brothers in a little broken jergo, and addressed the petty- +larceny looking individual by the title of Reverend Doctor. In the +midst of these greetings, however, the postillion said the man in +black came up to him, and proceeded to settle with him for the +chaise; he had shaken hands with nobody, and had merely nodded to +the others; "and now," said the postillion, "he evidently wished to +get rid of me, fearing, probably, that I should see too much of the +nonsense that was going on. It was whilst settling with me that he +seemed to recognize me for the first time, for he stared hard at +me, and at last asked whether I had not been in Italy; to which +question, with a nod and a laugh, I replied that I had. I was then +going to ask him about the health of the image of Holy Mary, and to +say that I hoped it had recovered from its horsewhipping; but he +interrupted me, paid me the money for the fare, and gave me a crown +for myself, saying he would not detain me any longer. I say, +partner, I am a poor postillion, but when he gave me the crown I +had a good mind to fling it in his face. I reflected, however, +that it was not mere gift-money, but coin which I had earned, and +hardly too, so I put it in my pocket, and I bethought me, moreover, +that, knave as I knew him to be, he had always treated me with +civility; so I nodded to him, and he said something which, perhaps, +he meant for Latin, but which sounded very much like 'vails,' and +by which he doubtless alluded to the money which he had given me. +He then went into the house with the rest, the coach drove away +which had brought the others, and I was about to get on the box and +follow; observing, however, two more chaises driving up, I thought +I would be in no hurry, so I just led my horses and chaise a little +out of the way, and pretending to be occupied about the harness, I +kept a tolerably sharp look-out at the new arrivals. Well, +partner, the next vehicle that drove up was a gentleman's carriage +which I knew very well, as well as those within it, who were a +father and son, the father a good kind old gentleman, and a justice +of the peace, therefore not very wise, as you may suppose; the son +a puppy who has been abroad, where he contrived to forget his own +language, though only nine months absent, and now rules the roast +over his father and mother, whose only child he is, and by whom he +is thought wondrous clever. So this foreigneering chap brings his +poor old father to this out-of-the-way house to meet these +Platitudes and petty-larceny villains, and perhaps would have +brought his mother too, only, simple thing, by good fortune she +happens to be laid up with the rheumatic. Well, the father and +son, I beg pardon, I mean the son and father, got down and went in, +and then after their carriage was gone, the chaise behind drove up, +in which was a huge fat fellow, weighing twenty stone at least, but +with something of a foreign look, and with him--who do you think? +Why, a rascally Unitarian minister, that is, a fellow who had been +such a minister, but who, some years ago leaving his own people, +who had bred him up and sent him to their college at York, went +over to the High Church, and is now, I suppose, going over to some +other church, for he was talking, as he got down, wondrous fast in +Latin, or what sounded something like Latin, to the fat fellow, who +appeared to take things wonderfully easy, and merely grunted to the +dog Latin which the scoundrel had learnt at the expense of the poor +Unitarians at York. So they went into the house, and presently +arrived another chaise, but ere I could make any further +observations, the porter of the out-of-the-way house came up to me, +asking what I was stopping there for? bidding me go away, and not +pry into other people's business. 'Pretty business,' said I to +him, 'that is being transacted in a place like this,' and then I +was going to say something uncivil, but he went to attend to the +new corners, and I took myself away on my own business as he bade +me, not, however, before observing that these two last were a +couple of blackcoats." + +The postillion then proceeded to relate how he made the best of his +way to a small public-house, about a mile off, where he had +intended to bait, and how he met on the way a landau and pair, +belonging to a Scotch coxcomb whom he had known in London, about +whom he related some curious particulars, and then continued: +"Well, after I had passed him and his turn-out, I drove straight to +the public-house, where I baited my horses, and where I found some +of the chaises and drivers who had driven the folks to the lunatic- +looking mansion, and were now waiting to take them up again. +Whilst my horses were eating their bait, I sat me down, as the +weather was warm, at a table outside, and smoked a pipe, and drank +some ale, in company with the coachman of the old gentleman who had +gone to the house with his son, and the coachman then told me that +the house was a Papist house, and that the present was a grand +meeting of all the fools and rascals in the country, who came to +bow down to images, and to concert schemes--pretty schemes no +doubt--for overturning the religion of the country, and that for +his part he did not approve of being concerned with such doings, +and that he was going to give his master warning next day. So, as +we were drinking and discoursing, up drove the chariot of the +Scotchman, and down got his valet and the driver, and whilst the +driver was seeing after the horses, the valet came and sat down at +the table where the gentleman's coachman and I were drinking. I +knew the fellow well, a Scotchman like his master, and just of the +same kidney, with white kid gloves, red hair frizzled, a patch of +paint on his face, and his hands covered with rings. This very +fellow, I must tell you, was one of those most busy in endeavouring +to get me turned out of the servants' club in Park Lane, because I +happened to serve a literary man; so he sat down, and in a kind of +affected tone cried out, 'Landlord, bring me a glass of cold +negus.' The landlord, however, told him that there was no negus, +but that if he pleased, he could have a jug of as good beer as any +in the country. 'Confound the beer,' said the valet, 'do you think +that I am accustomed to such vulgar beverage?' However, as he +found there was nothing better to be had, he let the man bring him +some beer, and when he had got it, soon showed that he could drink +it easily enough; so, when he had drunk two or three draughts, he +turned his eyes in a contemptuous manner, first, on the coachman, +and then on me: I saw the scamp recollected me, for after staring +at me and my dress for about half a minute, he put on a broad grin, +and flinging his head back, he uttered a loud laugh. Well, I did +not like this, as you may well believe, and taking the pipe out of +my mouth, I asked him if he meant anything personal, to which he +answered, that he had said nothing to me, and that he had a right +to look where he pleased, and laugh when he pleased. Well, as to a +certain extent he was right, as to looking and laughing; and as I +have occasionally looked at a fool and laughed, though I was not +the fool in this instance, I put my pipe into my mouth and said no +more. This quiet and well-regulated behaviour of mine, however, +the fellow interpreted into fear; so, after drinking a little more, +he suddenly started up, and striding once or twice before the +table, he asked me what I meant by that impertinent question of +mine, saying that he had a good mind to wring my nose for my +presumption. 'You have?' said I, getting up, and laying down my +pipe. 'Well, I'll now give you an opportunity.' So I put myself +in an attitude, and went up to him, saying 'I have an old score to +settle with you, you scamp; you wanted to get me turned out of the +club, didn't you?' And thereupon, remembering that he had +threatened to wring my nose, I gave him a snorter upon his own. I +wish you could have seen the fellow when he felt the smart; so far +from trying to defend himself, he turned round, and with his hand +to his face, attempted to run away; but I was now in a regular +passion, and following him up, got before him, and was going to +pummel away at him, when he burst into tears, and begged me not to +hurt him, saying that he was sorry if he had offended me, and that, +if I pleased, he would go down on his knees, or do anything else I +wanted. Well, when I heard him talk in this manner, I, of course, +let him be; I could hardly help laughing at the figure he cut; his +face all blubbered with tears, and blood and paint; but I did not +laugh at the poor creature either, but went to the table and took +up my pipe, and smoked and drank as if nothing had happened; and +the fellow, after having been to the pump, came and sat down, +crying, and trying to curry favour with me and the coachman; +presently, however, putting on a confidential look, he began to +talk of the Popish house, and of the doings there, and said he +supposed as how we were of the party, and that it was all right; +and then he began to talk of the Pope of Rome, and what a nice man +he was, and what a fine thing it was to be of his religion, +especially if folks went over to him; and how it advanced them in +the world, and gave them consideration; and how his master, who had +been abroad and seen the Pope, and kissed his toe, was going over +to the Popish religion, and had persuaded him to consent to do so, +and to forsake his own, which I think the scoundrel called the +'Piscopal Church of Scotland, and how many others of that church +were going over, thinking to better their condition in life by so +doing, and to be more thought on; and how many of the English +Church were thinking of going over too--and that he had no doubt +that it would all end right and comfortably. Well, as he was going +on in this way, the old coachman began to spit, and getting up, +flung all the beer that was in his jug upon the ground, and going +away, ordered another jug of beer, and sat down at another table, +saying that he would not drink in such company; and I too got up, +and flung what beer remained in my jug, there wasn't more than a +drop, in the fellow's face, saying, I would scorn to drink any more +in such company; and then I went to my horses, put them to, paid my +reckoning, and drove home." + +The postillion having related his story, to which I listened with +all due attention, mused for a moment, and then said, "I dare say +you remember how, some time since, when old Bill had been telling +us how the Government a long time ago, had done away with robbing +on the highway, by putting down the public-houses and places which +the highwaymen frequented, and by sending a good mounted police to +hunt them down, I said that it was a shame that the present +Government did not employ somewhat the same means in order to stop +the proceedings of Mumbo Jumbo and his gang now-a-days in England. +Howsomever, since I have driven a fare to a Popish rendezvous, and +seen something of what is going on there, I should conceive that +the Government are justified in allowing the gang the free exercise +of their calling. Anybody is welcome to stoop and pick up nothing, +or worse than nothing, and if Mumbo Jumbo's people, after their +expeditions, return to their haunts with no better plunder in the +shape of converts than what I saw going into yonder place of call, +I should say they are welcome to what they get; for if that's the +kind of rubbish they steal out of the Church of England, or any +other church, who in his senses but would say a good riddance, and +many thanks for your trouble: at any rate, that is my opinion of +the matter." + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + + + +Deliberations with Self-Resolution--Invitation to Dinner--The +Commercial Traveller--The Landlord's Offer--The Comet Wine. + + +It was now that I had frequent deliberations with myself. Should I +continue at the inn in my present position? I was not very much +captivated with it; there was little poetry in keeping an account +of the corn, hay, and straw which came in, and was given out, and I +was fond of poetry; moreover, there was no glory at all to be +expected in doing so, and I was fond of glory. Should I give up +that situation, and remaining at the inn, become ostler under old +Bill? There was more poetry in rubbing down horses than in keeping +an account of straw, hay, and corn; there was also some prospect of +glory attached to the situation of ostler, for the grooms and +stable-boys occasionally talked of an ostler, a great way down the +road, who had been presented by some sporting people, not with a +silver vase, as our governor had been, but with a silver currycomb, +in testimony of their admiration for his skill; but I confess that +the poetry of rubbing down had become, as all other poetry becomes, +rather prosy by frequent repetition, and with respect to the chance +of deriving glory from the employment, I entertained, in the event +of my determining to stay, very slight hope of ever attaining skill +in the ostler art sufficient to induce sporting people to bestow +upon me a silver currycomb. I was not half so good an ostler as +old Bill, who had never been presented with a silver currycomb, and +I never expected to become so, therefore what chance had I? It was +true, there was a prospect of some pecuniary emolument to be +derived by remaining in either situation. It was very probable +that, provided I continued to keep an account of the hay and corn +coming in and expended, the landlord would consent to allow me a +pound a week, which at the end of a dozen years, provided I kept +myself sober, would amount to a considerable sum. I might, on the +retirement of old Bill, by taking his place, save up a decent sum +of money, provided, unlike him, I kept myself sober, and laid by +all the shillings and sixpences I got; but the prospect of laying +up a decent sum of money was not of sufficient importance to induce +me to continue either at my wooden desk, or in the inn-yard. The +reader will remember what difficulty I had to make up my mind to +become a merchant under the Armenian's auspices, even with the +prospect of making two or three hundred thousand pounds by +following the Armenian way of doing business, so it was not +probable that I should feel disposed to be a book-keeper or ostler +all my life with no other prospect than being able to make a tidy +sum of money. If indeed, besides the prospect of making a tidy sum +at the end of perhaps forty years' ostlering, I had been certain of +being presented with a silver currycomb with my name engraved upon +it, which I might have left to my descendants, or, in default +thereof, to the parish church destined to contain my bones, with +directions that it might be soldered into the wall above the arch +leading from the body of the church into the chancel--I will not +say with such a certainty of immortality, combined with such a +prospect of moderate pecuniary advantage,--I might not have thought +it worth my while to stay, but I entertained no such certainty, +and, taking everything into consideration, I determined to mount my +horse and leave the inn. + +This horse had caused me for some time past no little perplexity; I +had frequently repented of having purchased him, more especially as +the purchase had been made with another person's money, and had +more than once shown him to people who, I imagined, were likely to +purchase him; but, though they were profuse in his praise, as +people generally are in the praise of what they don't intend to +purchase, they never made me an offer, and now that I had +determined to mount on his back and ride away, what was I to do +with him in the sequel? I could not maintain him long. Suddenly I +bethought me of Horncastle, which Francis Ardry had mentioned as a +place where the horse was likely to find a purchaser, and not +having determined upon any particular place to which to repair, I +thought that I could do no better than betake myself to Horncastle +in the first instance, and there endeavour to dispose of my horse. + +On making inquiries with respect to the situation of Horncastle, +and the time when the fair would be held, I learned that the town +was situated in Lincolnshire, about a hundred and fifty miles from +the inn at which I was at present sojourning, and that the fair +would be held nominally within about a month, but that it was +always requisite to be on the spot some days before the nominal day +of the fair, as all the best horses were generally sold before that +time, and the people who came to purchase gone away with what they +had bought. + +The people of the inn were very sorry on being informed of my +determination to depart. Old Bill told me that he had hoped as how +I had intended to settle down there, and to take his place as +ostler when he was fit for no more work, adding, that though I did +not know much of the business, yet he had no doubt but that I might +improve. My friend the postillion was particularly sorry, and +taking me with him to the tap-room called for two pints of beer, to +one of which he treated me; and whilst we were drinking told me how +particularly sorry he was at the thought of my going, but that he +hoped I should think better of the matter. On my telling him that +I must go, he said that he trusted I should put off my departure +for three weeks, in order that I might be present at his marriage, +the banns of which were just about to be published. He said that +nothing would give him greater pleasure than to see me dance a +minuet with his wife after the marriage dinner; but I told him it +was impossible that I should stay, my affairs imperatively calling +me elsewhere; and that with respect to my dancing a minuet, such a +thing was out of the question, as I had never learned to dance. At +which he said that he was exceedingly sorry, and finding me +determined to go, wished me success in all my undertakings. + +The master of the house, to whom, as in duty bound, I communicated +my intention before I spoke of it to the servants, was, I make no +doubt, very sorry, though he did not exactly tell me so. What he +said was, that he had never expected that I should remain long +there, as such a situation never appeared to him quite suitable to +me, though I had been very diligent, and had given him perfect +satisfaction. On his inquiring when I intended to depart, I +informed him next day, whereupon he begged that I would defer my +departure till the next day but one, and do him the favour of +dining with him on the morrow. I informed him that I should be +only too happy. + +On the following day at four o'clock I dined with the landlord, in +company with a commercial traveller. The dinner was good, though +plain, consisting of boiled mackerel--rather a rarity in those +parts at that time--with fennel sauce, a prime baron of roast beef +after the mackerel, then a tart and noble Cheshire cheese; we had +prime sherry at dinner, and whilst eating the cheese prime porter, +that of Barclay, the only good porter in the world. After the +cloth was removed we had a bottle of very good port; and whilst +partaking of the port I had an argument with the commercial +traveller on the subject of the corn-laws. + +The commercial traveller, having worsted me in the argument on the +subject of the corn-laws, got up in great glee, saying that he must +order his gig, as business must be attended to. Before leaving the +room, however, he shook me patronizingly by the hand, and said +something to the master of the house, but in so low a tone that it +escaped my ear. + +No sooner had he departed than the master of the house told me that +his friend the traveller had just said that I was a confounded +sensible young fellow, and not at all opinionated, a sentiment in +which he himself perfectly agreed--then hemming once or twice, he +said that as I was going on a journey he hoped I was tolerably well +provided with money, adding that travelling was rather expensive, +especially on horseback, the manner in which he supposed, as I had +a horse in the stable, I intended to travel. I told him that +though I was not particularly well supplied with money, I had +sufficient for the expenses of my journey, at the end of which I +hoped to procure more. He then hemmed again, and said that since I +had been at the inn I had rendered him a great deal of service in +more ways than one, and that he should not think of permitting me +to depart without making me some remuneration; then putting his +hand into his waistcoat pocket, he handed me a cheque for ten +pounds, which he had prepared beforehand, the value of which he +said I could receive at the next town, or that, if I wished it, any +waiter in the house would cash it for me. I thanked him for his +generosity in the best terms I could select, but, handing him back +the cheque, I told him that I could not accept it, saying, that, so +far from his being my debtor, I believed myself to be indebted to +him, as not only myself but my horse had been living at his house +for several weeks. He replied, that as for my board at a house +like his it amounted to nothing, and as for the little corn and hay +which the horse had consumed it was of no consequence, and that he +must insist upon my taking the cheque. But I again declined, +telling him that doing so would be a violation of a rule which I +had determined to follow, and which nothing but the greatest +necessity would ever compel me to break through--never to incur +obligations. "But," said he, "receiving this money will not be +incurring an obligation, it is your due." "I do not think so," +said I; "I did not engage to serve you for money, nor will I take +any from you." "Perhaps you will take it as a loan?" said he. +"No," I replied, "I never borrow." "Well," said the landlord, +smiling, "you are different from all others that I am acquainted +with. I never yet knew any one else who scrupled to borrow and +receive obligations; why, there are two baronets in the +neighbourhood who have borrowed money of me, ay, and who have never +repaid what they borrowed; and there are a dozen squires who are +under considerable obligations to me, who I dare say will never +return them. Come, you need not be more scrupulous than your +superiors--I mean in station." "Every vessel must stand on its own +bottom," said I; "they take pleasure in receiving obligations, I +take pleasure in being independent. Perhaps they are wise, and I +am a fool, I know not, but one thing I am certain of, which is, +that were I not independent I should be very unhappy: I should +have no visions then." "Have you any relations?" said the +landlord, looking at me compassionately; "excuse me, but I don't +think you are exactly fit to take care of yourself." "There you +are mistaken," said I, "I can take precious good care of myself; +ay, and can drive a precious hard bargain when I have occasion, but +driving bargains is a widely different thing from receiving gifts. +I am going to take my horse to Horncastle, and when there I shall +endeavour to obtain his full value--ay to the last penny." + +"Horncastle!" said the landlord, "I have heard of that place; you +mustn't be dreaming visions when you get there, or they'll steal +the horse from under you. Well," said he, rising, "I shall not +press you further on the subject of the cheque. I intend, however, +to put you under an obligation to me." He then rang the bell, and +having ordered two fresh glasses to be brought, he went out and +presently returned with a small pint bottle, which he uncorked with +his own hand; then sitting down, he said, "The wine that I bring +here, is port of eighteen hundred and eleven, the year of the +comet, the best vintage on record; the wine which we have been +drinking," he added, "is good, but not to be compared with this, +which I never sell, and which I am chary of. When you have drunk +some of it, I think you will own that I have conferred an +obligation upon you;" he then filled the glasses, the wine which he +poured out diffusing an aroma through the room; then motioning me +to drink, he raised his own glass to his lips, saying, "Come, +friend, I drink to your success at Horncastle." + + + +CHAPTER XXX + + + +Triumphal Departure--No Season like Youth--Extreme Old Age-- +Beautiful England--The Ratcatcher--A Misadventure. + + +I departed from the inn much in the same fashion as I had come to +it, mounted on a splendid horse indifferently well caparisoned, +with the small valise attached to my crupper, in which, besides the +few things I had brought with me, was a small book of roads with a +map which had been presented to me by the landlord. I must not +forget to state that I did not ride out of the yard, but that my +horse was brought to me at the front door by old Bill, who insisted +upon doing so, and who refused a five-shilling piece which I +offered him; and it will be as well to let the reader know that the +landlord shook me by the hand as I mounted, and that the people +attached to the inn, male and female--my friend the postillion at +the head--assembled before the house to see me off, and gave me +three cheers as I rode away. Perhaps no person ever departed from +an inn with more eclat or better wishes; nobody looked at me +askance, except two stage-coachmen who were loitering about, one of +whom said to his companion, "I say, Jim! twig his portmanteau! a +regular Newmarket turn-out, by--!" + +It was in the cool of the evening of a bright day--all the days of +that summer were bright--that I departed. I felt at first rather +melancholy at finding myself again launched into the wide world, +and leaving the friends whom I had lately made behind me; but by +occasionally trotting the horse, and occasionally singing a song of +Romanvile, I had dispelled the feeling of melancholy by the time I +had proceeded three miles down the main road. It was at the end of +these three miles, just opposite a milestone, that I struck into a +cross road. After riding about seven miles, threading what are +called, in postillion parlance, cross-country roads, I reached +another high road, tending to the east, along which I proceeded for +a mile or two, when coming to a small inn, about nine o'clock, I +halted and put up for the night. + +Early on the following morning I proceeded on my journey, but +fearing to gall the horse, I no longer rode him, but led him by the +bridle, until I came to a town at the distance of about ten miles +from the place where I had passed the night. Here I stayed during +the heat of the day, more on the horse's account than my own, and +towards evening resumed my journey, leading the animal by the +bridle as before; and in this manner I proceeded for several days, +travelling on an average from twenty to twenty-five miles a day, +always leading the animal, except perhaps now and then of an +evening, when, if I saw a good piece of road before me, I would +mount and put the horse into a trot, which the creature seemed to +enjoy as much as myself, showing his satisfaction by snorting and +neighing, whilst I gave utterance to my own exhilaration by shouts, +or by "the chi she is kaulo she soves pre lakie dumo," or by +something else of the same kind in Romanvile. + +On the whole, I journeyed along very pleasantly, certainly quite as +pleasantly as I do at present, now that I am become a gentleman and +weigh sixteen stone, though some people would say that my present +manner of travelling is much the most preferable, riding as I now +do, instead of leading my horse; receiving the homage of ostlers +instead of their familiar nods; sitting down to dinner in the +parlour of the best inn I can find, instead of passing the +brightest part of the day in the kitchen of a village alehouse; +carrying on my argument after dinner on the subject of the corn- +laws, with the best commercial gentlemen on the road, instead of +being glad, whilst sipping a pint of beer, to get into conversation +with blind trampers, or maimed Abraham sailors, regaling themselves +on half-pints at the said village hostelries. Many people will +doubtless say that things have altered wonderfully with me for the +better, and they would say right, provided I possessed now what I +then carried about with me in my journeys--the spirit of youth. +Youth is the only season for enjoyment, and the first twenty-five +years of one's life are worth all the rest of the longest life of +man, even though those five-and-twenty be spent in penury and +contempt, and the rest in the possession of wealth, honours, +respectability, ay, and many of them in strength and health, such +as will enable one to ride forty miles before dinner, and over +one's pint of port--for the best gentleman in the land should not +drink a bottle--carry on one's argument, with gravity and decorum, +with any commercial gentleman who, responsive to one's challenge, +takes the part of humanity and common sense against "protection" +and the lord of the land. + +Ah! there is nothing like youth--not that after-life is valueless. +Even in extreme old age one may get on very well, provided we will +but accept of the bounties of God. I met the other day an old man, +who asked me to drink. "I am not thirsty," said I, "and will not +drink with you." "Yes, you will," said the old man, "for I am this +day one hundred years old; and you will never again have an +opportunity of drinking the health of a man on his hundredth +birthday." So I broke my word, and drank. "Yours is a wonderful +age," said I. "It is a long time to look back to the beginning of +it," said the old man; "yet, upon the whole, I am not sorry to have +lived it all." "How have you passed your time?" said I. "As well +as I could," said the old man; "always enjoying a good thing when +it came honestly within my reach; not forgetting to praise God for +putting it there." "I suppose you were fond of a glass of good ale +when you were young?" "Yes," said the old man, "I was; and so, +thank God, I am still." And he drank off a glass of ale. + +On I went in my journey, traversing England from west to east-- +ascending and descending hills--crossing rivers by bridge and +ferry--and passing over extensive plains. What a beautiful country +is England! People run abroad to see beautiful countries, and +leave their own behind unknown, unnoticed--their own the most +beautiful! And then, again, what a country for adventures! +especially to those who travel on foot, or on horseback. People +run abroad in quest of adventures, and traverse Spain or Portugal +on mule or on horseback; whereas there are ten times more +adventures to be met with in England than in Spain, Portugal, or +stupid Germany to boot. Witness the number of adventures narrated +in the present book--a book entirely devoted to England. Why, +there is not a chapter in the present book which is not full of +adventures, with the exception of the present one, and this is not +yet terminated. + +After traversing two or three counties, I reached the confines of +Lincolnshire. During one particularly hot day I put up at a +public-house, to which, in the evening, came a party of harvesters +to make merry, who, finding me wandering about the house a +stranger, invited me to partake of their ale; so I drank with the +harvesters, who sang me songs about rural life, such as - + + +"Sitting in the swale; and listening to the swindle of the flail, +as it sounds dub-a-dub on the corn, from the neighbouring barn." + + +In requital for which I treated them with a song, not of Romanvile, +but the song of "Sivory and the horse Grayman." I remained with +them till it was dark, having, after sunset, entered into deep +discourse with a celebrated ratcatcher, who communicated to me the +secrets of his trade, saying, amongst other things, "When you see +the rats pouring out of their holes, and running up my hands and +arms, it's not after me they comes, but after the oils I carries +about me they comes;" and who subsequently spoke in the most +enthusiastic manner of his trade, saying that it was the best trade +in the world, and most diverting, and that it was likely to last +for ever; for whereas all other kinds of vermin were fast +disappearing from England, rats were every day becoming more +abundant. I had quitted this good company, and having mounted my +horse, was making my way towards a town at about six miles' +distance, at a swinging trot, my thoughts deeply engaged on what I +had gathered from the ratcatcher, when all on a sudden a light +glared upon the horse's face, who purled round in great terror, and +flung me out of the saddle, as from a sling, or with as much +violence as the horse Grayman, in the ballad, flings Sivord the +Snareswayne. I fell upon the ground--felt a kind of crashing about +my neck--and forthwith became senseless. + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + + + +A Novel Situation--The Elderly Individual--The Surgeon--A Kind +Offer--Chimerical Ideas--Strange Dream. + + +How long I remained senseless I cannot say, for a considerable +time, I believe; at length, opening my eyes, I found myself lying +on a bed in a middle-sized chamber, lighted by a candle, which +stood on a table--an elderly man stood near me, and a yet more +elderly female was holding a phial of very pungent salts to my +olfactory organ. I attempted to move, but felt very stiff--my +right arm appeared nearly paralysed, and there was a strange dull +sensation in my head. "You had better remain still, young man," +said the elderly individual, "the surgeon will be here presently; I +have sent a message for him to the neighbouring village." "Where +am I?" said I, "and what has happened?" "You are in my house," +said the old man, "and you have been flung from a horse. I am +sorry to say that I was the cause. As I was driving home, the +lights in my gig frightened the animal." "Where is the horse?" +said I. "Below, in my stable," said the elderly individual. "I +saw you fall, but knowing that on account of my age I could be of +little use to you, I instantly hurried home, the accident did not +occur more than a furlong off, and procuring the assistance of my +lad, and two or three neighbouring cottagers, I returned to the +spot where you were lying senseless. We raised you up, and brought +you here. My lad then went in quest of the horse, who had run away +as we drew nigh. When we saw him first he was standing near you; +he caught him with some difficulty, and brought him home. What are +you about?" said the old man, as I strove to get off the bed. "I +want to see the horse," said I. "I entreat you to be still," said +the old man; "the horse is safe, I assure you." "I am thinking +about his knees," said I. "Instead of thinking about your horse's +knees," said the old man, "be thankful that you have not broke your +own neck." "You do not talk wisely," said I; "when a man's neck is +broke, he is provided for; but when his horse's knees are broke, he +is a lost jockey, that is, if he has nothing but his horse to +depend upon. A pretty figure I should cut at Horncastle, mounted +on a horse blood-raw at the knees." "Oh, you are going to +Horncastle," said the old man, seriously, "then I can sympathize +with you in your anxiety about your horse, being a Lincolnshire +man, and the son of one who bred horses. I will myself go down +into the stable, and examine into the condition of your horse, so +pray remain quiet till I return; it would certainly be a terrible +thing to appear at Horncastle on a broken-kneed horse." + +He left the room and returned in about ten minutes, followed by +another person. "Your horse is safe," said he, "and his knees are +unblemished; not a hair ruffled. He is a fine animal, and will do +credit to Horncastle; but here is the surgeon come to examine into +your own condition." The surgeon was a man about thirty-five, +thin, and rather tall; his face was long and pale, and his hair, +which was light, was carefully combed back as much as possible from +his forehead. He was dressed very neatly, and spoke in a very +precise tone. "Allow me to feel your pulse, friend?" said he, +taking me by the right wrist. I uttered a cry, for at the motion +which he caused a thrill of agony darted through my arm. "I hope +your arm is not broke, my friend," said the surgeon, "allow me to +see; first of all, we must divest you of this cumbrous frock." + +The frock was removed with some difficulty, and then the upper +vestments of my frame, with more difficulty still. The surgeon +felt my arm, moving it up and down, causing me unspeakable pain. +"There is no fracture," said he, at last, "but a contusion--a +violent contusion. I am told you were going to Horncastle; I am +afraid you will be hardly able to ride your horse thither in time +to dispose of him; however, we shall see--your arm must be +bandaged, friend; after which I shall bleed you, and administer a +composing draught." + +To be short, the surgeon did as he proposed, and when he had +administered the composing draught, he said, "Be of good cheer; I +should not be surprised if you are yet in time for Horncastle." He +then departed with the master of the house, and the woman, leaving +me to my repose. I soon began to feel drowsy, and was just +composing myself to slumber, lying on my back, as the surgeon had +advised me, when I heard steps ascending the stairs, and in a +moment more the surgeon entered again, followed by the master of +the house. "I hope I don't disturb you," said the former; "my +reason for returning is to relieve your mind from any anxiety with +respect to your horse. I am by no means sure that you will be +able, owing to your accident, to reach Horncastle in time: to +quiet you, however, I will buy your horse for any reasonable sum. +I have been down to the stable, and approve of his figure. What do +you ask for him?" "This is a strange time of night," said I, "to +come to me about purchasing my horse, and I am hardly in a fitting +situation to be applied to about such a matter. What do you want +him for?" "For my own use," said the surgeon; "I am a professional +man, and am obliged to be continually driving about; I cover at +least one hundred and fifty miles every week." "He will never +answer your purpose," said I, "he is not a driving horse, and was +never between shafts in his life; he is for riding, more especially +for trotting, at which he has few equals." "It matters not to me +whether he is for riding or driving," said the surgeon, "sometimes +I ride, sometimes drive; so, if we can come to terms, I will buy +him, though remember it is chiefly to remove any anxiety from your +mind about him." "This is no time for bargaining," said I, "if you +wish to have the horse for a hundred guineas, you may; if not--" +"A hundred guineas!" said the surgeon, "my good friend, you must +surely be light-headed; allow me to feel your pulse," and he +attempted to feel my left wrist. "I am not light-headed," said I, +"and I require no one to feel my pulse; but I should be light- +headed if I were to sell my horse for less than I have demanded; +but I have a curiosity to know what you would be willing to offer." +"Thirty pounds," said the surgeon, "is all I can afford to give; +and that is a great deal for a country surgeon to offer for a +horse." "Thirty pounds!" said I, "why, he cost me nearly double +that sum. To tell you the truth, I am afraid that you want to take +advantage of my situation." "Not in the least, friend," said the +surgeon, "not in the least; I only wished to set your mind at rest +about your horse; but as you think he is worth more than I can +afford to offer, take him to Horncastle by all means; I will do my +best to cure you in time. Good night, I will see you again on the +morrow." Thereupon he once more departed with the master of the +house. "A sharp one," I heard him say, with a laugh, as the door +closed upon him. + +Left to myself, I again essayed to compose myself to rest, but for +some time in vain. I had been terribly shaken by my fall, and had +subsequently, owing to the incision of the surgeon's lancet, been +deprived of much of the vital fluid; it is when the body is in such +a state that the merest trifles affect and agitate the mind; no +wonder, then, that the return of the surgeon and the master of the +house for the purpose of inquiring whether I would sell my horse, +struck me as being highly extraordinary, considering the hour of +the night, and the situation in which they knew me to be. What +could they mean by such conduct--did they wish to cheat me of the +animal? "Well, well," said I, "if they did, what matters, they +found their match; yes, yes," said I, "but I am in their power, +perhaps"--but I instantly dismissed the apprehension which came +into my mind, with a pooh, nonsense! In a little time, however, a +far more foolish and chimerical idea began to disturb me--the idea +of being flung from my horse; was I not disgraced for ever as a +horseman by being flung from my horse? Assuredly, I thought; and +the idea of being disgraced as a horseman, operating on my nervous +system, caused me very acute misery. "After all," said I to +myself, "it was perhaps the contemptible opinion which the surgeon +must have formed of my equestrian powers, which induced him to +offer to take my horse off my hands; he perhaps thought I was +unable to manage a horse, and therefore in pity returned in the +dead of night to offer to purchase the animal which had flung me;" +and then the thought that the surgeon had conceived a contemptible +opinion of my equestrian powers, caused me the acutest misery, and +continued tormenting me until some other idea (I have forgot what +it was, but doubtless equally foolish) took possession of my mind. +At length, brought on by the agitation of my spirits, there came +over me the same feeling of horror that I had experienced of old +when I was a boy, and likewise of late within the dingle; it was, +however, not so violent as it had been on those occasions, and I +struggled manfully against it, until by degrees it passed away, and +then I fell asleep; and in my sleep I had an ugly dream. I dreamt +that I had died of the injuries I had received from my fall, and +that no sooner had my soul departed from my body than it entered +that of a quadruped, even my own horse in the stable--in a word, I +was, to all intents and purposes, my own steed; and as I stood in +the stable chewing hay (and I remember that the hay was exceedingly +tough), the door opened, and the surgeon who had attended me came +in. "My good animal," said he, "as your late master has scarcely +left enough to pay for the expenses of his funeral, and nothing to +remunerate me for my trouble, I shall make bold to take possession +of you. If your paces are good, I shall keep you for my own +riding; if not, I shall take you to Horncastle, your original +destination." He then bridled and saddled me, and, leading me out, +mounted, and then trotted me up and down before the house, at the +door of which the old man, who now appeared to be dressed in +regular jockey fashion, was standing. "I like his paces well," +said the surgeon; "I think I shall take him for my own use." "And +what am I to have for all the trouble his master caused me?" said +my late entertainer, on whose countenance I now observed, for the +first time, a diabolical squint. "The consciousness of having done +your duty to a fellow-creature in succouring him in a time of +distress, must be your reward," said the surgeon. "Pretty gammon, +truly," said my late entertainer; "what would you say if I were to +talk in that way to you? Come, unless you choose to behave +jonnock, I shall take the bridle and lead the horse back into the +stable." "Well," said the surgeon, "we are old friends, and I +don't wish to dispute with you, so I'll tell you what I will do; I +will ride the animal to Horncastle, and we will share what he +fetches like brothers." "Good," said the old man, "but if you say +that you have sold him for less than a hundred, I shan't consider +you jonnock; remember what the young fellow said--that young +fellow--" I heard no more, for the next moment I found myself on a +broad road leading, as I supposed, in the direction of Horncastle, +the surgeon still in the saddle, and my legs moving at a rapid +trot. "Get on," said the surgeon, jerking my mouth with the bit; +whereupon, full of rage, I instantly set off at a full gallop, +determined, if possible, to dash my rider to the earth. The +surgeon, however, kept his seat, and, so far from attempting to +abate my speed, urged me on to greater efforts with a stout stick, +which methought he held in his hand. In vain did I rear and kick, +attempting to get rid of my foe; but the surgeon remained as +saddle-fast as ever the Maugrabin sorcerer in the Arabian tale what +time he rode the young prince transformed into a steed to his +enchanted palace in the wilderness. At last, as I was still madly +dashing on, panting and blowing, and had almost given up all hope, +I saw at a distance before me a heap of stones by the side of the +road, probably placed there for the purpose of repairing it; a +thought appeared to strike me--I will shy at those stones, and, if +I can't get rid of him so, resign myself to my fate. So I +increased my speed, till arriving within about ten yards of the +heap, I made a desperate start, turning half round with nearly the +velocity of a mill-stone. Oh, the joy I experienced when I felt my +enemy canted over my neck, and saw him lying senseless in the road. +"I have you now in my power," I said, or rather neighed, as, going +up to my prostrate foe, I stood over him. "Suppose I were to rear +now, and let my fore feet fall upon you, what would your life be +worth? that is, supposing you are not killed already; but lie +there, I will do you no further harm, but trot to Horncastle +without a rider, and when there--" and without further reflection +off I trotted in the direction of Horncastle, but had not gone far +before my bridle, falling from my neck, got entangled with my off +fore foot. I felt myself falling, a thrill of agony shot through +me--my knees would be broken, and what should I do at Horncastle +with a pair of broken knees? I struggled, but I could not +disengage my off fore foot, and downward I fell, but before I had +reached the ground I awoke, and found myself half out of bed, my +bandaged arm in considerable pain, and my left hand just touching +the floor. + +With some difficulty I readjusted myself in bed. It was now early +morning, and the first rays of the sun were beginning to penetrate +the white curtains of a window on my left, which probably looked +into the garden, as I caught a glimpse or two of the leaves of +trees through a small uncovered part at the side. For some time I +felt uneasy and anxious, my spirits being in a strange fluttering +state. At last my eyes fell upon a small row of tea-cups seemingly +of china, which stood on a mantelpiece exactly fronting the bottom +of the bed. The sight of these objects, I know not why, soothed +and pacified me; I kept my eyes fixed upon them, as I lay on my +back on the bed, with my head upon the pillow, till at last I fell +into a calm and refreshing sleep. + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + + + +The Morning after a Fall--The Teapot--Unpretending Hospitality--The +Chinese Student. + + +It might be about eight o'clock in the morning when I was awakened +by the entrance of the old man. "How have you rested?" said he, +coming up to the bedside, and looking me in the face. "Well," said +I, "and I feel much better, but I am still very sore." I surveyed +him now for the first time with attention. He was dressed in a +sober-coloured suit, and was apparently between sixty and seventy. +In stature he was rather above the middle height, but with a slight +stoop; his features were placid, and expressive of much +benevolence, but, as it appeared to me, with rather a melancholy +cast--as I gazed upon them, I felt ashamed that I should ever have +conceived in my brain a vision like that of the preceding night, in +which he appeared in so disadvantageous a light. At length he +said, "It is now time for you to take some refreshment. I hear my +old servant coming up with your breakfast." In a moment the +elderly female entered with a tray, on which was some bread and +butter, a teapot and cup. The cup was of common blue earthenware, +but the pot was of china, curiously fashioned, and seemingly of +great antiquity. The old man poured me out a cupful of tea, and +then, with the assistance of the woman, raised me higher, and +propped me up with the pillows. I ate and drank; when the pot was +emptied of its liquid (it did not contain much), I raised it up +with my left hand to inspect it. The sides were covered with +curious characters, seemingly hieroglyphics. After surveying them +for some time, I replaced it upon the tray. "You seem fond of +china," said I, to the old man, after the servant had retired with +the breakfast things, and I had returned to my former posture; "you +have china on the mantelpiece, and that was a remarkable teapot out +of which I have just been drinking." + +The old man fixed his eyes intently on me, and methought the +expression of his countenance became yet more melancholy. "Yes," +said he, at last, "I am fond of china--I have reason to be fond of +china--but for china I should--" and here he sighed again. + +"You value it for the quaintness and singularity of its form," said +I; "it appears to be less adapted for real use than our own +pottery." + +"I care little about its form," said the old man; "I care for it +simply on account of--however, why talk to you on the subject which +can have no possible interest to you? I expect the surgeon here +presently." + +"I do not like that surgeon at all," said I; "how strangely he +behaved last night, coming back, when I was just falling asleep, to +ask me if I would sell my horse." + +The old man smiled. "He has but one failing," said he, "an itch +for horse-dealing; but for that he might be a much richer man than +he is; he is continually buying and exchanging horses, and +generally finds himself a loser by his bargains: but he is a +worthy creature, and skilful in his profession--it is well for you +that you are under his care." + +The old man then left me, and in about an hour returned with the +surgeon, who examined me and reported favourably as to my case. He +spoke to me with kindness and feeling, and did not introduce the +subject of the horse. I asked him whether he thought I should be +in time for the fair. "I saw some people making their way thither +to-day," said he; "the fair lasts three weeks, and it has just +commenced. Yes, I think I may promise you that you will be in time +for the very heat of it. In a few days you will be able to mount +your saddle with your arm in a sling, but you must by no means +appear with your arm in a sling at Horncastle, as people would +think that your horse had flung you, and that you wanted to dispose +of him because he was a vicious brute. You must, by all means, +drop the sling before you get to Horncastle." + +For three days I kept my apartment by the advice of the surgeon. I +passed my time as I best could. Stretched on my bed, I either +abandoned myself to reflection, or listened to the voices of the +birds in the neighbouring garden. Sometimes, as I lay awake at +night, I would endeavour to catch the tick of a clock, which +methought sounded from some distant part of the house. + +The old man visited me twice or thrice every day to inquire into my +state. His words were few on these occasions, and he did not stay +long. Yet his voice and his words were kind. What surprised me +most in connection with this individual was, the delicacy of +conduct which he exhibited in not letting a word proceed from his +lips which could testify curiosity respecting who I was, or whence +I came. All he knew of me was, that I had been flung from my horse +on my way to a fair for the purpose of disposing of the animal; and +that I was now his guest. I might be a common horse-dealer for +what he knew, yet I was treated by him with all the attention which +I could have expected, had I been an alderman of Boston's heir, and +known to him as such. The county in which I am now, thought I at +last, must be either extraordinarily devoted to hospitality, or +this old host of mine must be an extraordinary individual. On the +evening of the fourth day, feeling tired of my confinement, I put +my clothes on in the best manner I could, and left the chamber. +Descending a flight of stairs, I reached a kind of quadrangle, from +which branched two or three passages; one of these I entered, which +had a door at the farther end, and one on each side; the one to the +left standing partly open, I entered it, and found myself in a +middle-sized room with a large window, or rather glass-door, which +looked into a garden, and which stood open. There was nothing +remarkable in this room, except a large quantity of china. There +was china on the mantelpiece--china on two tables, and a small +beaufet, which stood opposite the glass-door, was covered with +china--there were cups, teapots, and vases of various forms, and on +all of them I observed characters--not a teapot, not a tea-cup, not +a vase of whatever form or size, but appeared to possess +hieroglyphics on some part or other. After surveying these +articles for some time with no little interest, I passed into the +garden, in which there were small parterres of flowers, and two or +three trees, and which, where the house did not abut, was bounded +by a wall; turning to the right by a walk by the side of a house, I +passed by a door--probably the one I had seen at the end of the +passage--and arrived at another window similar to that through +which I had come, and which also stood open; I was about to pass +through it, when I heard the voice of my entertainer exclaiming, +"Is that you? pray come in." + +I entered the room, which seemed to be a counterpart of the one +which I had just left. It was of the same size, had the same kind +of furniture, and appeared to be equally well stocked with china; +one prominent article it possessed, however, which the other room +did not exhibit--namely, a clock, which, with its pendulum moving +tick-a-tick, hung against the wall opposite to the door, the sight +of which made me conclude that the sound which methought I had +heard in the stillness of the night was not an imaginary one. +There it hung on the wall, with its pendulum moving tick-a-tick. +The old gentleman was seated in an easy chair a little way into the +room, having the glass-door on his right hand. On a table before +him lay a large open volume, in which I observed Roman letters as +well as characters. A few inches beyond the book on the table, +covered all over with hieroglyphics, stood a china vase. The eyes +of the old man were fixed upon it. + +"Sit down," said he, motioning me with his hand to a stool close +by, but without taking his eyes from the vase. + +"I can't make it out," said he, at last, removing his eyes from the +vase, and leaning back on the chair, "I can't make it out." + +"I wish I could assist you," said I. + +"Assist me," said the old man, looking at me with a half smile. + +"Yes," said I, "but I don't understand Chinese." + +"I suppose not," said the old man, with another slight smile; "but- +-but--" + +"Pray proceed," said I. + +"I wished to ask you," said the old man, "how you knew that the +characters on yon piece of crockery were Chinese; or, indeed, that +there was such a language?" + +"I knew the crockery was china," said I, "and naturally enough +supposed what was written upon it to be Chinese; as for there being +such a language--the English have a language, the French have a +language, and why not the Chinese?" + +"May I ask you a question?" + +"As many as you like." + +"Do you know any language besides English?" + +"Yes," said I, "I know a little of two or three." + +"May I ask their names?" + +"Why not?" said I, "I know a little French." + +"Anything else?" + +"Yes, a little Welsh, and a little Haik." + +"What is Haik?" + +"Armenian." + +"I am glad to see you in my house," said the old man, shaking me by +the hand; "how singular that one coming as you did should know +Armenian!" + +"Not more singular," said I, "than that one living in such a place +as this should know Chinese. How came you to acquire it?" + +The old man looked at me, and sighed. "I beg pardon," said I, "for +asking what is, perhaps, an impertinent question; I have not +imitated your own delicacy; you have never asked me a question +without first desiring permission, and here I have been days and +nights in your house an intruder on your hospitality, and you have +never so much as asked me who I am." + +"In forbearing to do that," said the old man, "I merely obeyed the +Chinese precept, 'Ask no questions of a guest;' it is written on +both sides of the teapot out of which you have had your tea." + +"I wish I knew Chinese," said I. "Is it a difficult language to +acquire?" + +"I have reason to think so," said the old man. "I have been +occupied upon it five-and-thirty years, and I am still very +imperfectly acquainted with it; at least, I frequently find upon my +crockery sentences the meaning of which to me is very dark, though +it is true these sentences are mostly verses, which are, of course, +more difficult to understand than mere prose." + +"Are your Chinese studies," said I, "confined to crockery +literature?" + +"Entirely," said the old man; "I read nothing else." + +"I have heard," said I, "that the Chinese have no letters, but that +for every word they have a separate character--is it so?" + +"For every word they have a particular character," said the old +man; "though, to prevent confusion, they have arranged their words +under two hundred and fourteen what we should call radicals, but +which they call keys. As we arrange all our words in a dictionary +under twenty-four letters, so do they arrange all their words, or +characters, under two hundred and fourteen radical signs; the +simplest radicals being the first, and the more complex the last." + +"Does the Chinese resemble any of the European languages in words?" +said I. + +"I am scarcely competent to inform you," said the old man; "but I +believe not." + +"What does that character represent?" said I, pointing to one on +the vase. + +"A knife," said the old man, "that character is one of the simplest +radicals or keys." + +"And what is the sound of it?" said I. + +"Tau," said the old man. + +"Tau!" said I; "tau!" + +"A strange word for a knife is it not?" said the old man. + +"Tawse!" said I; "tawse!" + +"What is tawse?" said the old man. + +"You were never at school at Edinburgh, I suppose?" + +"Never," said the old man. + +"That accounts for your not knowing the meaning of tawse," said I; +"had you received the rudiments of a classical education at the +High School, you would have known the meaning of tawse full well. +It is a leathern thong, with which refractory urchins are recalled +to a sense of their duty by the dominie. Tau--tawse--how +singular!" + +"I cannot see what the two words have in common, except a slight +agreement in sound." + +"You will see the connection," said I, "when I inform you that the +thong, from the middle to the bottom, is cut or slit into two or +three parts, from which slits or cuts, unless I am very much +mistaken, it derives its name--tawse, a thong with slits or cuts, +used for chastising disorderly urchins at the High School, from the +French tailler, to cut; evidently connected with the Chinese tau, a +knife--how very extraordinary!" + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + + + +Convalescence--The Surgeon's Bill--Letter of Recommendation-- +Commencement of the Old Man's History. + + +Two days--three days passed away--and I still remained at the house +of my hospitable entertainer; my bruised limb rapidly recovering +the power of performing its functions. I passed my time agreeably +enough, sometimes in my chamber, communing with my own thoughts; +sometimes in the stable, attending to, and not unfrequently +conversing with, my horse; and at meal-time--for I seldom saw him +at any other--discoursing with the old gentleman, sometimes on the +Chinese vocabulary, sometimes on Chinese syntax, and once or twice +on English horseflesh; though on this latter subject, +notwithstanding his descent from a race of horse-traders, he did +not enter into with much alacrity. As a small requital for his +kindness, I gave him one day, after dinner, unasked, a brief +account of my history and pursuits. He listened with attention; +and when it was concluded, thanked me for the confidence which I +had reposed in him. "Such conduct," said he, "deserves a return. +I will tell you my own history; it is brief, but may perhaps not +prove uninteresting to you--though the relation of it will give me +some pain." "Pray, then, do not recite it," said I. "Yes," said +the old man, "I will tell you, for I wish you to know it." He was +about to begin, when he was interrupted by the arrival of the +surgeon. The surgeon examined into the state of my bruised limb, +and told me, what indeed I already well knew, that it was rapidly +improving. "You will not even require a sling," said he, "to ride +to Horncastle. When do you propose going?" he demanded. "When do +you think I may venture?" I replied. "I think, if you are a +tolerably good horseman, you may mount the day after to-morrow," +answered the medical man. "By-the-bye, are you acquainted with +anybody at Horncastle?" "With no living soul," I answered. "Then +you would scarcely find stable-room for your horse. But I am happy +to be able to assist you. I have a friend there who keeps a small +inn, and who, during the time of the fair, keeps a stall vacant for +any quadruped I may bring, until he knows whether I am coming or +not. I will give you a letter to him, and he will see after the +accommodation of your horse. To-morrow I will pay you a farewell +visit, and bring you the letter." "Thank you," said I; "and do not +forget to bring your bill." The surgeon looked at the old man, who +gave him a peculiar nod. "Oh!" said he, in reply to me, "for the +little service I have rendered you, I require no remuneration. You +are in my friend's house, and he and I understand each other." "I +never receive such favours," said I, "as you have rendered me, +without remunerating them; therefore I shall expect your bill." +"Oh! just as you please," said the surgeon; and shaking me by the +hand more warmly than he had hitherto done, he took his leave. + +On the evening of the next day, the last which I spent with my kind +entertainer, I sat at tea with him in a little summer-house in his +garden, partially shaded by the boughs of a large fig-tree. The +surgeon had shortly before paid me his farewell visit, and had +brought me the letter of introduction to his friend at Horncastle, +and also his bill, which I found anything but extravagant. After +we had each respectively drank the contents of two cups--and it may +not be amiss here to inform the reader that though I took cream +with my tea, as I always do when I can procure that addition, the +old man, like most people bred up in the country, drank his without +it--he thus addressed me:- "I am, as I told you on the night of +your accident, the son of a breeder of horses, a respectable and +honest man. When I was about twenty he died, leaving me, his only +child, a comfortable property, consisting of about two hundred +acres of land and some fifteen hundred pounds in money. My mother +had died about three years previously. I felt the death of my +mother keenly, but that of my father less than was my duty; indeed, +truth compels me to acknowledge that I scarcely regretted his +death. The cause of this want of proper filial feeling was the +opposition which I had experienced from him in an affair which +deeply concerned me. I had formed an attachment for a young female +in the neighbourhood, who, though poor, was of highly respectable +birth, her father having been a curate of the Established Church. +She was, at the time of which I am speaking, an orphan, having lost +both her parents, and supported herself by keeping a small school. +My attachment was returned, and we had pledged our vows, but my +father, who could not reconcile himself to her lack of fortune, +forbade our marriage in the most positive terms. He was wrong, for +she was a fortune in herself--amiable and accomplished. Oh! I +cannot tell you all she was--" and here the old man drew his hand +across his eyes. "By the death of my father, the only obstacle to +our happiness appeared to be removed. We agreed, therefore, that +our marriage should take place within the course of a year; and I +forthwith commenced enlarging my house and getting my affairs in +order. Having been left in the easy circumstances which I have +described, I determined to follow no business, but to pass my life +in a strictly domestic manner, and to be very, very happy. Amongst +other property derived from my father were several horses, which I +disposed of in this neighbourhood, with the exception of two +remarkably fine ones, which I determined to take to the next fair +at Horncastle, the only place where I expected to be able to obtain +what I considered to be their full value. At length the time +arrived for the commencement of the fair, which was within three +months of the period which my beloved and myself had fixed upon for +the celebration of our nuptials. To the fair I went, a couple of +trusty men following me with the horses. I soon found a purchaser +for the animals, a portly, plausible person, of about forty, +dressed in a blue riding coat, brown top boots, and leather +breeches. There was a strange-looking urchin with him, attired in +nearly similar fashion, with a beam in one of his eyes, who called +him father. The man paid me for the purchase in bank-notes--three +fifty-pound notes for the two horses. As we were about to take +leave of each other, he suddenly produced another fifty-pound note, +inquiring whether I could change it, complaining, at the same time, +of the difficulty of procuring change in the fair. As I happened +to have plenty of small money in my possession, and as I felt +obliged to him for having purchased my horses at what I considered +to be a good price, I informed him that I should be very happy to +accommodate him; so I changed him the note, and he, having taken +possession of the horses, went his way, and I myself returned home. + +"A month passed; during this time I paid away two of the notes +which I had received at Horncastle from the dealer--one of them in +my immediate neighbourhood, and the other at a town about fifteen +miles distant, to which I had repaired for the purpose of +purchasing some furniture. All things seemed to be going on most +prosperously, and I felt quite happy, when one morning, as I was +overlooking some workmen who were employed about my house, I was +accosted by a constable, who informed me that he was sent to +request my immediate appearance before a neighbouring bench of +magistrates. Concluding that I was merely summoned on some +unimportant business connected with the neighbourhood, I felt no +surprise, and forthwith departed in company with the officer. The +demeanour of the man upon the way struck me as somewhat singular. +I had frequently spoken to him before, and had always found him +civil and respectful, but he was now reserved and sullen, and +replied to two or three questions which I put to him in anything +but a courteous manner. On arriving at the place where the +magistrates were sitting--an inn at a small town about two miles +distant--I found a more than usual number of people assembled, who +appeared to be conversing with considerable eagerness. At sight of +me they became silent, but crowded after me as I followed the man +into the magistrates' room. There I found the tradesman to whom I +had paid the note for the furniture at the town fifteen miles off +in attendance, accompanied by an agent of the Bank of England; the +former, it seems, had paid the note into a provincial bank, the +proprietors of which, discovering it to be a forgery, had forthwith +written up to the Bank of England, who had sent down their agent to +investigate the matter. A third individual stood beside them--the +person in my own immediate neighbourhood to whom I had paid the +second note; this, by some means or other, before the coming down +of the agent, had found its way to the same provincial bank, and +also being pronounced a forgery, it had speedily been traced to the +person to whom I had paid it. It was owing to the apparition of +this second note that the agent had determined, without further +inquiry, to cause me to be summoned before the rural tribunal. + +"In a few words the magistrates' clerk gave me to understand the +state of the case. I was filled with surprise and consternation. +I knew myself to be perfectly innocent of any fraudulent intention, +but at the time of which I am speaking it was a matter fraught with +the greatest danger to be mixed up, however innocently, with the +passing of false money. The law with respect to forgery was +terribly severe, and the innocent as well as the guilty +occasionally suffered. Of this I was not altogether ignorant; +unfortunately, however, in my transactions with the stranger, the +idea of false notes being offered to me, and my being brought into +trouble by means of them, never entered my mind. Recovering myself +a little, I stated that the notes in question were two of three +notes which I had received at Horncastle, for a pair of horses, +which it was well known I had carried thither. + +"Thereupon, I produced from my pocket-book the third note, which +was forthwith pronounced a forgery. I had scarcely produced the +third note, when I remembered the one which I had changed for the +Horncastle dealer, and with the remembrance came the almost certain +conviction that it was also a forgery; I was tempted for a moment +to produce it, and to explain the circumstance--would to God I had +done so!--but shame at the idea of having been so wretchedly duped +prevented me, and the opportunity was lost. I must confess that +the agent of the bank behaved, upon the whole, in a very handsome +manner; he said that as it was quite evident that I had disposed of +certain horses at the fair, it was very probable that I might have +received the notes in question in exchange for them, and that he +was willing, as he had received a very excellent account of my +general conduct, to press the matter no farther, that is, provided- +-" And here he stopped. Thereupon, one of the three magistrates, +who were present, asked me whether I chanced to have any more of +these spurious notes in my possession. He certainly had a right to +ask the question; but there was something peculiar in his tone- +insinuating suspicion. It is certainly difficult to judge of the +motives which rule a person's conduct, but I cannot help imagining +that he was somewhat influenced in his behaviour on that occasion, +which was anything but friendly, by my having refused to sell him +the horses at a price less than that which I expected to get at the +fair; be this as it may, the question filled me with embarrassment, +and I bitterly repented not having at first been more explicit. +Thereupon the magistrate in the same kind of tone, demanded to see +my pocket-book. I knew that to demur would be useless, and +produced it, and therewith, amongst two or three small country +notes, appeared the fourth which I had received from the Horncastle +dealer. The agent took it up and examined it with attention. +'Well, is it a genuine note?' asked the magistrate. 'I am sorry to +say that it is not,' said the agent; 'it is a forgery, like the +other three.' The magistrate shrugged his shoulders, as indeed did +several people in the room. 'A regular dealer in forged notes,' +said a person close behind me; 'who would have thought it?' + +"Seeing matters begin to look so serious, I aroused myself, and +endeavoured to speak in my own behalf, giving a candid account of +the manner in which I became possessed of the notes; but my +explanation did not appear to meet much credit; the magistrate, to +whom I have in particular alluded, asked, why I had not at once +stated the fact of my having received a fourth note; and the agent, +though in a very quiet tone, observed that he could not help +thinking it somewhat strange that I should have changed a note of +so much value for a perfect stranger, even supposing that he had +purchased my horses, and had paid me their value in hard cash; and +I noticed that he laid particular emphasis on the last words. I +might have observed that I was an inexperienced young man, who, +meaning no harm myself, suspected none in others, but I was +confused, stunned, and my tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of my +mouth. The men who had taken my horses to Horncastle, and for whom +I had sent, as they lived close at hand, now arrived, but the +evidence which they could give was anything but conclusive in my +favour; they had seen me in company with an individual at +Horncastle, to whom, by my orders, they had delivered certain +horses, but they had seen no part of the money transaction; the +fellow, whether from design or not, having taken me aside into a +retired place, where he had paid me the three spurious notes, and +induced me to change the fourth, which throughout the affair was +what bore most materially against me. How matters might have +terminated I do not know, I might have gone to prison, and I might +have been--just then, when I most needed a friend, and least +expected to find one, for though amongst those present there were +several who were my neighbours, and who had professed friendship +for me, none of them when they saw that I needed support and +encouragement, came forward to yield me any, but, on the contrary, +appeared by their looks to enjoy my terror and confusion--just then +a friend entered the room in the person of the surgeon of the +neighbourhood, the father of him who has attended you; he was not +on very intimate terms with me, but he had occasionally spoken to +me, and had attended my father in his dying illness, and chancing +to hear that I was in trouble, he now hastened to assist me. After +a short preamble, in which he apologized to the bench for +interfering, he begged to be informed of the state of the case, +whereupon the matter was laid before him in all its details. He +was not slow in taking a fair view of it, and spoke well and +eloquently in my behalf--insisting on the improbability that a +person of my habits and position would be wilfully mixed up with a +transaction like that of which it appeared I was suspected--adding, +that as he was fully convinced of my innocence, he was ready to +enter into any surety with respect to my appearance at any time to +answer anything which might be laid to my charge. This last +observation had particular effect, and as he was a person +universally respected, both for his skill in his profession and his +general demeanour, people began to think that a person in whom he +took an interest could scarcely be concerned in anything criminal, +and though my friend the magistrate--I call him so ironically--made +two or three demurs, it was at last agreed between him and his +brethren of the bench, that, for the present, I should be merely +called upon to enter into my own recognizance for the sum of two +hundred pounds, to appear whenever it should be deemed requisite to +enter into any further investigation of the matter. + +"So I was permitted to depart from the tribunal of petty justice +without handcuffs, and uncollared by a constable; but people looked +coldly and suspiciously upon me. The first thing I did was to +hasten to the house of my beloved, in order to inform her of every +circumstance attending the transaction. I found her, but how? A +malicious female individual had hurried to her with a distorted +tale, to the effect that I had been taken up as an utterer of +forged notes; that an immense number had been found in my +possession; that I was already committed, and that probably I +should be executed. My affianced one tenderly loved me, and her +constitution was delicate; fit succeeded fit; she broke a blood- +vessel, and I found her deluged in blood; the surgeon had been sent +for; he came and afforded her every possible relief. I was +distracted; he bade me have hope, but I observed he looked very +grave. + +"By the skill of the surgeon, the poor girl was saved in the first +instance from the arms of death, and for a few weeks she appeared +to be rapidly recovering; by degrees, however, she became +melancholy; a worm preyed upon her spirit; a slow fever took +possession of her frame. I subsequently learned that the same +malicious female who had first carried to her an exaggerated +account of the affair, and who was a distant relative of her own, +frequently visited her, and did all in her power to excite her +fears with respect to its eventual termination. Time passed on in +a very wretched manner. Our friend the surgeon showing to us both +every mark of kindness and attention. + +"It was owing to this excellent man that my innocence was +eventually established. Having been called to a town on the +borders of Yorkshire to a medical consultation, he chanced to be +taking a glass of wine with the landlord of the inn at which he +stopped, when the waiter brought in a note to be changed, saying +'That the Quaker gentleman, who had been for some days in the +house, and was about to depart, had sent it to be changed, in order +that he might pay his bill.' The landlord took the note, and +looked at it. 'A fifty-pound bill,' said he; 'I don't like +changing bills of that amount, lest they should prove bad ones; +however, as it comes from a Quaker gentleman, I suppose it is all +right.' The mention of a fifty-pound note aroused the attention of +my friend, and he requested to be permitted to look at it; he had +scarcely seen it, when he was convinced that it was one of the same +description as those which had brought me into trouble, as it +corresponded with them in two particular features, which the agent +of the bank had pointed out to him and others as evidence of their +spuriousness. My friend, without a moment's hesitation, informed +the landlord that the note was a bad one, expressing at the same +time a great wish to see the Quaker gentleman who wanted to have it +changed. 'That you can easily do,' said the landlord, and +forthwith conducted him into the common room, where he saw a +respectable-looking man, dressed like a Quaker, and seemingly about +sixty years of age. + +"My friend, after a short apology, showed him the note which he +held in his hand, stating that he had no doubt it was a spurious +one, and begged to be informed where he had taken it, adding, that +a particular friend of his was at present in trouble, owing to his +having taken similar notes from a stranger at Horncastle; but that +he hoped that he, the Quaker, could give information, by means of +which the guilty party, or parties, could be arrested. At the +mention of Horncastle, it appeared to my friend that the Quaker +gave a slight start. At the conclusion of this speech, however, he +answered, with great tranquillity, that he had received it in the +way of business at -, naming one of the principal towns in +Yorkshire, from a very respectable person, whose name he was +perfectly willing to communicate, and likewise his own, which he +said was James, and that he was a merchant residing at Liverpool; +that he would write to his friend at -, requesting him to make +inquiries on the subject; that just at that moment he was in a +hurry to depart, having some particular business at a town about +ten miles off, to go to which he had bespoken a post-chaise of the +landlord; that with respect to the note, it was doubtless a very +disagreeable thing to have a suspicious one in his possession, but +that it would make little difference to him, as he had plenty of +other money, and thereupon he pulled out a purse, containing +various other notes, and some gold, observing, 'that his only +motive for wishing to change the other note was a desire to be well +provided with change;' and finally, that if they had any suspicion +with respect to him, he was perfectly willing to leave the note in +their possession till he should return, which he intended to do in +about a fortnight. There was so much plausibility in the speech of +the Quaker, and his appearance and behaviour were so perfectly +respectable, that my friend felt almost ashamed of the suspicion +which at first he had entertained of him, though, at the same time, +he felt an unaccountable unwillingness to let the man depart +without some further interrogation. The landlord, however, who did +not wish to disoblige one who had been, and might probably be +again, a profitable customer, declared that he was perfectly +satisfied; and that he had no wish to detain the note, which he +made no doubt the gentleman had received in the way of business, +and that as the matter concerned him alone, he would leave it to +him to make the necessary inquiries. 'Just as you please, friend,' +said the Quaker, pocketing the suspicious note, 'I will now pay my +bill.' Thereupon he discharged the bill with a five-pound note, +which he begged the landlord to inspect carefully, and with two +pieces of gold. + +"The landlord had just taken the money, receipted the bill, and was +bowing to his customer, when the door opened, and a lad, dressed in +a kind of grey livery, appeared, and informed the Quaker that the +chaise was ready. 'Is that boy your servant?' said the surgeon. +'He is, friend,' said the Quaker. 'Hast thou any reason for asking +me that question?' 'And has he been long in your service?' +'Several years,' replied the Quaker, 'I took him into my house out +of compassion, he being an orphan, but as the chaise is waiting, I +will bid thee farewell.' 'I am afraid I must stop your journey for +the present,' said the surgeon; 'that boy has exactly the same +blemish in the eye which a boy had who was in company with the man +at Horncastle, from whom my friend received the forged notes, and +who there passed for his son.' 'I know nothing about that,' said +the Quaker, 'but I am determined to be detained here no longer, +after the satisfactory account which I have given as to the note's +coming into my possession.' He then attempted to leave the room, +but my friend detained him, a struggle ensued, during which a wig +which the Quaker wore fell off, whereupon he instantly appeared to +lose some twenty years of his age. 'Knock the fellow down, +father,' said the boy, 'I'll help you.' + +"And, forsooth, the pretended Quaker took the boy's advice, and +knocked my friend down in a twinkling. The landlord, however, and +waiter, seeing how matters stood, instantly laid hold of him; but +there can be no doubt that he would have escaped from the whole +three, had not certain guests who were in the house, hearing the +noise, rushed in, and helped to secure him. The boy was true to +his word, assisting him to the best of his ability, flinging +himself between the legs of his father's assailants, causing +several of them to stumble and fall. At length, the fellow was +secured, and led before a magistrate; the boy, to whom he was heard +to say something which nobody understood, and to whom, after the +man's capture, no one paid much attention, was no more seen. + +"The rest, as far as this man was concerned, may be told in a few +words; nothing to criminate him was found on his person, but on his +baggage being examined, a quantity of spurious notes were +discovered. Much of his hardihood now forsook him, and in the hope +of saving his life he made some very important disclosures; amongst +other things, he confessed that it was he who had given me the +notes in exchange for the horses, and also the note to be changed. +He was subsequently tried on two indictments, in the second of +which I appeared against him. He was condemned to die; but, in +consideration of the disclosures he had made, his sentence was +commuted to perpetual transportation. + +"My innocence was thus perfectly established before the eyes of the +world, and all my friends hastened to congratulate me. There was +one who congratulated me more than all the rest--it was my beloved +one, but--but--she was dying--" + +Here the old man drew his hand before his eyes, and remained for +some time without speaking; at length he removed his hand, and +commenced again with a broken voice: "You will pardon me if I +hurry over this part of my story, I am unable to dwell upon it. +How dwell upon a period when I saw my only earthly treasure pine +away gradually day by day, and knew that nothing could save her! +She saw my agony, and did all she could to console me, saying that +she was herself quite resigned. A little time before her death she +expressed a wish that we should be united. I was too happy to +comply with her request. We were united, I brought her to this +house, where, in less than a week, she expired in my arms." + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + + + +The Old Man's Story continued--Misery in the Head--The Strange +Marks--Tea-dealer from London--Difficulties of the Chinese +Language. + + +After another pause the old man once more resumed his narration:- +"If ever there was a man perfectly miserable it was myself, after +the loss of that cherished woman. I sat solitary in the house, in +which I had hoped in her company to realize the choicest earthly +happiness, a prey to the bitterest reflections; many people +visited, and endeavoured to console me--amongst them was the +clergyman of the parish, who begged me to be resigned, and told me +that it was good to be afflicted. I bowed my head, but I could not +help thinking how easy it must be for those who feel no affliction, +to bid others to be resigned, and to talk of the benefit resulting +from sorrow; perhaps I should have paid more attention to his +discourse than I did, provided he had been a person for whom it was +possible to entertain much respect, but his own heart was known to +be set on the things of this world. + +"Within a little time he had an opportunity, in his own case, of +practising resignation, and of realizing the benefit of being +afflicted. A merchant, to whom he had entrusted all his fortune, +in the hope of a large interest, became suddenly a bankrupt, with +scarcely any assets. I will not say that it was owing to this +misfortune that the divine died in less than a month after its +occurrence, but such was the fact. Amongst those who most +frequently visited me was my friend the surgeon; he did not confine +himself to the common topics of consolation, but endeavoured to +impress upon me the necessity of rousing myself, advising me to +occupy my mind with some pursuit, particularly recommending +agriculture; but agriculture possessed no interest for me, nor, +indeed, any pursuit within my reach; my hopes of happiness had been +blighted, and what cared I for anything? so at last he thought it +best to leave me to myself, hoping that time would bring with it +consolation; and I remained solitary in my house, waited upon by a +male and a female servant. Oh, what dreary moments I passed! My +only amusement--and it was a sad one--was to look at the things +which once belonged to my beloved, and which were new in my +possession. Oh, how fondly would I dwell upon them! There were +some books; I cared not for books, but these had belonged to my +beloved. Oh, how fondly did I dwell on them! Then there was her +hat and bonnet--oh, me, how fondly did I gaze upon them! and after +looking at her things for hours, I would sit and ruminate on the +happiness I had lost. How I execrated the moment I had gone to the +fair to sell horses! 'Would that I had never been to Horncastle to +sell horses!' I would say; 'I might at this moment have been +enjoying the company of my beloved, leading a happy, quiet, easy +life, but for that fatal expedition;' that thought worked on my +brain, till my brain seemed to turn round. + +"One day I sat at the breakfast-table gazing vacantly around me, my +mind was in a state of inexpressible misery; there was a whirl in +my brain, probably like that which people feel who are rapidly +going mad; this increased to such a degree that I felt giddiness +coming upon me. To abate this feeling I no longer permitted my +eyes to wander about, but fixed them upon an object on the table, +and continued gazing at it for several minutes without knowing what +it was; at length, the misery in my head was somewhat stilled, my +lips moved, and I heard myself saying, 'What odd marks!' I had +fastened my eyes on the side of a teapot, and by keeping them fixed +upon it, had become aware of a fact that had escaped my notice +before--namely, that there were marks upon it. I kept my eyes +fixed upon them, and repeated at intervals, 'What strange marks!'-- +for I thought that looking upon the marks tended to abate the whirl +in my head: I kept tracing the marks one after the other, and I +observed that though they all bore a general resemblance to each +other, they were all to a certain extent different. The smallest +portion possible of curious interest had been awakened within me, +and, at last, I asked myself, within my own mind, 'What motive +could induce people to put such odd marks on their crockery? they +were not pictures, they were not letters; what motive could people +have for putting them there?' At last I removed my eyes from the +teapot, and thought for a few moments about the marks; presently, +however, I felt the whirl returning; the marks became almost +effaced from my mind, and I was beginning to revert to my miserable +ruminations, when suddenly methought I heard a voice say, 'The +marks! the marks! cling to the marks? or--' So I fixed my eyes +again upon the marks, inspecting them more attentively, if +possible, than I had done before, and, at last, I came to the +conclusion that they were not capricious or fanciful marks, but +were arranged systematically; when I had gazed at them for a +considerable time, I turned the teapot round, and on the other side +I observed marks of a similar kind, which I soon discovered were +identical with the ones I had been observing. All the marks were +something alike, but all somewhat different, and on comparing them +with each other, I was struck with the frequent occurrence of a +mark crossing an upright line, or projecting from it, now on the +right, now on the left side; and I said to myself, 'Why does this +mark sometimes cross the upright line, and sometimes project?' and +the more I thought on the matter, the less did I feel of the misery +in my head. + +"The things were at length removed, and I sat, as I had for some +time past been wont to sit after my meals, silent and motionless; +but in the present instance my mind was not entirely abandoned to +the one mournful idea which had so long distressed it. It was, to +a certain extent, occupied with the marks on the teapot; it is true +that the mournful idea strove hard with the marks on the teapot for +the mastery in my mind, and at last the painful idea drove the +marks of the teapot out; they, however, would occasionally return +and flit across my mind for a moment or two, and their coming was +like a momentary relief from intense pain. I thought once or twice +that I would have the teapot placed before me, that I might examine +the marks at leisure, but I considered that it would be as well to +defer the re-examination of the marks till the next morning; at +that time I did not take tea of an evening. By deferring the +examination thus, I had something to look forward to on the next +morning. The day was a melancholy one, but it certainly was more +tolerable to me than any of the others had been since the death of +my beloved. As I lay awake that night I occasionally thought of +the marks, and in my sleep methought I saw them upon the teapot +vividly before me. On the morrow, I examined the marks again; how +singular they looked! Surely they must mean something, and if so, +what could they mean? and at last I thought within myself whether +it would be possible for me to make out what they meant: that day +I felt more relief than on the preceding one, and towards night I +walked a little about. + +"In about a week's time I received a visit from my friend the +surgeon; after a little discourse, he told me that he perceived I +was better than when he had last seen me, and asked me what I had +been about; I told him that I had been principally occupied in +considering certain marks which I had found on a teapot, and +wondering what they could mean; he smiled at first, but instantly +assuming a serious look, he asked to see the teapot. I produced +it, and after having surveyed the marks with attention, he observed +that they were highly curious, and also wondered what they meant. +'I strongly advise you,' said he, 'to attempt to make them out, and +also to take moderate exercise, and to see after your concerns.' I +followed his advice; every morning I studied the marks on the +teapot, and in the course of the day took moderate exercise, and +attended to little domestic matters, as became the master of a +house. + +"I subsequently learned that the surgeon, in advising me to study +the marks, and endeavour to make out their meaning, merely hoped +that by means of them my mind might by degrees be diverted from the +mournful idea on which I had so long brooded. He was a man well +skilled in his profession, but had read and thought very little on +matters unconnected with it. He had no idea that the marks had any +particular signification, or were anything else but common and +fortuitous ones. That I became at all acquainted with their nature +was owing to a ludicrous circumstance which I will now relate. + +"One day, chancing to be at a neighbouring town, I was struck with +the appearance of a shop recently established. It had an immense +bow-window, and every part of it, to which a brush could be +applied, was painted in a gaudy flaming style. Large bowls of +green and black tea were placed upon certain chests, which stood at +the window. I stopped to look at them, such a display, whatever it +may be at the present time, being, at the period of which I am +speaking, quite uncommon in a country town. The tea, whether black +or green, was very shining and inviting, and the bowls, of which +there were three, standing on as many chests, were very grand and +foreign looking. Two of these were white, with figures and trees +painted upon them in blue; the other, which was the middlemost, had +neither trees nor figures upon it, but, as I looked through the +window, appeared to have on its sides the very same kind of marks +which I had observed on the teapot at home; there were also marks +on the tea-chests, somewhat similar, but much larger, and, +apparently, not executed with so much care. 'Best teas direct from +China,' said a voice close to my side; and looking round I saw a +youngish man, with a frizzled head, flat face, and an immensely +wide mouth, standing in his shirt-sleeves by the door. 'Direct +from China,' said he; 'perhaps you will do me the favour to walk in +and scent them?' 'I do not want any tea,' said I; 'I was only +standing at the window examining those marks on the bowl and the +chests. I have observed similar ones on a teapot at home.' 'Pray +walk in, sir,' said the young fellow, extending his mouth till it +reached nearly from ear to ear; 'pray walk in, and I shall be happy +to give you any information respecting the manners and customs of +the Chinese in my power.' Thereupon I followed him into his shop, +where he began to harangue on the manners, customs, and +peculiarities of the Chinese, especially their manner of preparing +tea, not forgetting to tell me that the only genuine Chinese tea +ever imported into England was to be found in his shop. 'With +respect to those marks,' said he, 'on the bowl and chests, they are +nothing more nor less than Chinese writing expressing something, +though what I can't exactly tell you. Allow me to sell you this +pound of tea,' he added, showing me a paper parcel. 'On the +envelope there is a printed account of the Chinese system of +writing, extracted from authors of the most established reputation. +These things I print, principally with the hope of, in some degree, +removing the worse than Gothic ignorance prevalent amongst natives +of these parts. I am from London myself. With respect to all that +relates to the Chinese real imperial tea, I assure you sir, that--' +Well, to make short of what you doubtless consider a very tiresome +story, I purchased the tea and carried it home. The tea proved +imperially bad, but the paper envelope really contained some +information on the Chinese language and writing, amounting to about +as much as you gained from me the other day. On learning that the +marks on the teapot expressed words, I felt my interest with +respect to them considerably increased, and returned to the task of +inspecting them with greater zeal than before, hoping, by +continually looking at them, to be able eventually to understand +their meaning, in which hope you may easily believe I was +disappointed, though my desire to understand what they represented +continued on the increase. In this dilemma I determined to apply +again to the shopkeeper from whom I bought the tea. I found him in +rather low spirits, his shirt-sleeves were soiled, and his hair was +out of curl. On my inquiring how he got on, he informed me that he +intended speedily to leave, having received little or no +encouragement, the people, in their Gothic ignorance, preferring to +deal with an old-fashioned shopkeeper over the way, who, so far +from possessing any acquaintance with the polity and institutions +of the Chinese, did not, he believed, know that tea came from +China. 'You are come for some more, I suppose?' said he. On +receiving an answer in the negative he looked somewhat blank, but +when I added that I came to consult with him as to the means which +I must take in order to acquire the Chinese language he brightened +up. 'You must get a grammar,' said he, rubbing his hands. 'Have +you not one?' said I. 'No,' he replied, 'but any bookseller can +procure you one.' As I was taking my departure, he told me that as +he was about to leave the neighbourhood, the bowl at the window, +which bore the inscription, besides some other pieces of porcelain +of a similar description, were at my service, provided I chose to +purchase them. I consented, and two or three days afterwards took +from off his hands all the china in his possession which bore the +inscriptions, paying what he demanded. Had I waited till the sale +of his effects, which occurred within a few weeks, I could probably +have procured it for a fifth part of the sum which I paid, the +other pieces realizing very little. I did not, however, grudge the +poor fellow what he got from me, as I considered myself to be +somewhat in his debt for the information he had afforded me. + +"As for the rest of my story, it may be briefly told. I followed +the advice of the shopkeeper, and applied to a bookseller who wrote +to his correspondent in London. After a long interval, I was +informed that if I wished to learn Chinese, I must do so through +the medium of French, there being neither Chinese grammar nor +dictionary in our language. I was at first very much disheartened. +I determined, however, at last to gratify my desire of learning +Chinese, even at the expense of learning French. I procured the +books, and in order to qualify myself to turn them to account, took +lessons in French from a little Swiss, the usher of a neighbouring +boarding-school. I was very stupid in acquiring French; +perseverance, however, enabled me to acquire a knowledge sufficient +for the object I had in view. In about two years I began to study +Chinese by myself, through the medium of the French." + +"Well," said I, "and how did you get on with the study of the +Chinese?" + +And then the old man proceeded to inform me how he got on with the +study of Chinese, enumerated all the difficulties he had had to +encounter; dilating upon his frequent despondency of mind, and +occasionally his utter despair of ever mastering Chinese. He told +me that more than once he had determined upon giving up the study, +but when the misery in his head forthwith returned, to escape from +which he had as often resumed it. It appeared, however, that ten +years elapsed before he was able to use ten of the two hundred and +fourteen keys, which serve to undo the locks of Chinese writing. + +"And are you able at present to use the entire number?" I demanded. + +"Yes," said the old man; "I can at present use the whole number. I +know the key for every particular lock, though I frequently find +the wards unwilling to give way." + +"Has nothing particular occurred to you," said I, "during the time +that you have been prosecuting your studies?" + +"During the whole time in which I have been engaged in these +studies," said the old man, "only one circumstance has occurred +which requires any particular mention--the death of my old friend +the surgeon--who was carried off suddenly by a fit of apoplexy. +His death was a great shock to me, and for a time interrupted my +studies. His son, however, who succeeded him, was very kind to me, +and, in some degree, supplied his father's place; and I gradually +returned to my Chinese locks and keys." + +"And in applying keys to the Chinese locks you employ your time?" + +"Yes," said the old man, "in making out the inscriptions on the +various pieces of porcelain, which I have at different times +procured, I pass my time. The first inscription which I translated +was that on the teapot of my beloved." + +"And how many other pieces of porcelain may you have at present in +your possession?" + +"About fifteen hundred." + +"And how did you obtain them?" I demanded. + +"Without much labour," said the old man, "in the neighbouring towns +and villages--chiefly at auctions--of which, about twenty years +ago, there were many in these parts." + +"And may I ask your reasons for confining your studies entirely to +the crockery literature of China, when you have all the rest at +your disposal?" + +"The inscriptions enable me to pass my time," said the old man; +"what more would the whole literature of China do?" + +"And from these inscriptions," said I, "what a book it is in your +power to make, whenever so disposed. 'Translations from the +crockery literature of China.' Such a book would be sure to take; +even glorious John himself would not disdain to publish it." The +old man smiled. "I have no desire for literary distinction," said +he; "no ambition. My original wish was to pass my life in easy, +quiet obscurity, with her whom I loved. I was disappointed in my +wish; she was removed, who constituted my only felicity in this +life; desolation came to my heart, and misery to my head. To +escape from the latter I had recourse to Chinese. By degrees the +misery left my head, but the desolation of the heart yet remains." + +"Be of good cheer," said I; "through the instrumentality of this +affliction you have learnt Chinese, and, in so doing, learnt to +practise the duties of hospitality. Who but a man who could read +Runes on a teapot, would have received an unfortunate wayfarer as +you have received me?" + +"Well," said the old man, "let us hope that all is for the best. I +am by nature indolent, and, but for this affliction, should, +perhaps, have hardly taken the trouble to do my duty to my fellow- +creatures. I am very, very indolent," said he, slightly glancing +towards the clock; "therefore let us hope that all is for the best; +but, oh! these trials, they are very hard to bear." + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + + + +The Leave-taking--Spirit of the Hearth--What's o'Clock? + + +The next morning, having breakfasted with my old friend, I went +into the stable to make the necessary preparations for my +departure; there, with the assistance of a stable lad, I cleaned +and caparisoned my horse, and then, returning into the house, I +made the old female attendant such a present as I deemed would be +some compensation for the trouble I had caused. Hearing that the +old gentleman was in his study, I repaired to him. "I am come to +take leave of you," said I, "and to thank you for all the +hospitality which I have received at your hands." The eyes of the +old man were fixed steadfastly on the inscription which I had found +him studying on a former occasion. "At length," he murmured to +himself, "I have it--I think I have it;" and then, looking at me, +he said, "So you are about to depart?" + +"Yes," said I, "my horse will be at the front door in a few +minutes; I am glad, however, before I go, to find that you have +mastered the inscription." + +"Yes," said the old man, "I believe I have mastered it; it seems to +consist of some verses relating to the worship of the Spirit of the +Hearth." + +"What is the Spirit of the Hearth?" said I. + +"One of the many demons which the Chinese worship," said the old +man; "they do not worship one God, but many." And then the old man +told me a great many highly-interesting particulars respecting the +demon worship of the Chinese. + +After the lapse of at least half an hour I said, "I must not linger +here any longer, however willing. Horncastle is distant, and I +wish to be there to-night. Pray can you inform me what's o'clock?" + +The old man, rising, looked towards the clock which hung on the +side of the room at his left hand, on the farther side of the table +at which he was seated. + +"I am rather short-sighted," said I, "and cannot distinguish the +number, at that distance." + +"It is ten o'clock," said the old man; "I believe somewhat past." + +"A quarter, perhaps?" + +"Yes," said the old man "a quarter or--" + +"Seven minutes, or ten minutes past ten." + +"I do not understand you." + +"Why, to tell you the truth," said the old man, with a smile, +"there is one thing to the knowledge of which I could never exactly +attain." + +"Do you mean to say," said I, "that you do not know what's +o'clock?" + +"I can give a guess," said the old man, "to within a few minutes." + +"But you cannot tell the exact moment?" + +"No," said the old man. + +"In the name of wonder," said I, "with that thing there on the wall +continually ticking in your ear, how comes it that you do not know +what's o'clock?" + +"Why," said the old man, "I have contented myself with giving a +tolerably good guess; to do more would have been too great +trouble." + +"But you have learnt Chinese," said I. + +"Yes," said the old man, "I have learnt Chinese." + +"Well," said I, "I really would counsel you to learn to know what's +o'clock as soon as possible. Consider what a sad thing it would be +to go out of the world not knowing what's o'clock. A millionth +part of the trouble required to learn Chinese would, if employed, +infallibly teach you to know what's o'clock." + +"I had a motive for learning Chinese," said the old man, "the hope +of appeasing the misery in my head. With respect to not knowing +what's o'clock, I cannot see anything particularly sad in the +matter. A man may get through the world very creditably without +knowing what's o'clock. Yet, upon the whole, it is no bad thing to +know what's o'clock--you, of course, do? It would be too good a +joke if two people were to be together, one knowing Armenian and +the other Chinese, and neither knowing what's o'clock. I'll now +see you off." + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + + + +Arrival at Horncastle--The Inn and Ostlers--The Garret--Figure of a +Man with a Candle. + + +Leaving the house of the old man who knew Chinese, but could not +tell what was o'clock, I wended my way to Horncastle, which I +reached in the evening of the same day, without having met any +adventure on the way worthy of being marked down in this very +remarkable history. + +The town was a small one, seemingly ancient, and was crowded with +people and horses. I proceeded, without delay, to the inn to which +my friend the surgeon had directed me. "It is of no use coming +here," said two or three ostlers, as I entered the yard--"all full- +-no room whatever;" whilst one added in an undertone, "That ere +a'n't a bad-looking horse." "I want to see the master of this +inn," said I, as I dismounted from the horse. "See the master," +said an ostler--the same who had paid the negative kind of +compliment to the horse--"a likely thing, truly; my master is +drinking wine with some of the grand gentry, and can't be disturbed +for the sake of the like of you." "I bring a letter to him," said +I, pulling out the surgeon's epistle. "I wish you would deliver it +to him," I added, offering a half-crown. "Oh, it's you, is it?" +said the ostler, taking the letter and the half-crown; "my master +will be right glad to see you; why, you ha'n't been here for many a +year; I'll carry the note to him at once." And with these words he +hurried into the house. "That's a nice horse, young man," said +another ostler, "what will you take for it?" to which interrogation +I made no answer. "If you wish to sell him," said the ostler, +coming up to me, and winking knowingly, "I think I and my partners +might offer you a summut under seventy pounds;" to which kind and +half-insinuated offer I made no reply, save by winking in the same +kind of knowing manner in which I observed him wink. "Rather +leary!" said a third ostler. "Well, young man, perhaps you will +drink to-night with me and my partners, when we can talk the matter +over." Before I had time to answer, the landlord, a well-dressed, +good-looking man, made his appearance with the ostler; he bore the +letter in his hand. Without glancing at me, he betook himself at +once to consider the horse, going round him, and observing every +point with the utmost minuteness. At last, having gone round the +horse three times, he stopped beside me, and keeping his eyes on +the horse, bent his head towards his right shoulder. "That horse +is worth some money," said he, turning towards me suddenly, and +slightly touching me on the arm with the letter which he held in +his hand; to which observation I made no reply, save by bending my +head towards the right shoulder as I had seen him do. "The young +man is going to talk to me and my partners about it to-night," said +the ostler who had expressed an opinion that he and his friends +might offer me somewhat under seventy pounds for the animal. +"Pooh!" said the landlord, "the young man' knows what he is about; +in the meantime lead the horse to the reserved stall, and see well +after him. My friend," said he, taking me aside after the ostler +had led the animal away, "recommends you to me in the strongest +manner, on which account alone I take you and your horse in. I +need not advise you not to be taken in, as I should say, by your +look, that you are tolerably awake; but there are queer hands at +Horncastle at this time, and those fellows of mine, you understand +me--; but I have a great deal to do at present, so you must excuse +me." And thereupon went into the house. + +That same evening I was engaged at least two hours in the stable, +in rubbing the horse down, and preparing him for the exhibition +which I intended he should make in the fair on the following day. +The ostler, to whom I had given the half-crown, occasionally +assisted me, though he was too much occupied by the horses of other +guests to devote any length of time to the service of mine; he more +than once repeated to me his firm conviction that himself and +partners could afford to offer me summut for the horse; and at a +later hour when, in compliance with his invitation, I took a glass +of summut with himself and partners, in a little room surrounded +with corn-chests, on which we sat, both himself and partners +endeavoured to impress upon me, chiefly by means of nods and winks, +their conviction that they could afford to give me summut for the +horse, provided I were disposed to sell him; in return for which +intimation, with as many nods and winks as they had all +collectively used, I endeavoured to impress upon them my conviction +that I could get summut handsomer in the fair than they might be +disposed to offer me, seeing as how--which how I followed by a wink +and a nod, which they seemed perfectly to understand, one or two of +them declaring that if the case was so, it made a great deal of +difference, and that they did not wish to be any hindrance to me, +more particularly as it was quite clear I had been an ostler like +themselves. + +It was late at night when I began to think of retiring to rest. On +inquiring if there was any place in which I could sleep, I was +informed that there was a bed at my service, provided I chose to +sleep in a two-bedded room, one of the beds of which was engaged by +another gentleman. I expressed my satisfaction at this +arrangement, and was conducted by a maid-servant up many pairs of +stairs to a garret, in which were two small beds, in one of which +she gave me to understand another gentleman slept; he had, however, +not yet retired to rest; I asked who he was, but the maid-servant +could give me no information about him, save that he was a highly +respectable gentleman, and a friend of her master's. Presently, +bidding me good night, she left me with a candle; and I, having +undressed myself and extinguished the light, went to bed. +Notwithstanding the noises which sounded from every part of the +house, I was not slow in falling asleep, being thoroughly tired. I +know not how long I might have been in bed, perhaps two hours, when +I was partially awakened by a light shining upon my face, +whereupon, unclosing my eyes, I perceived the figure of a man, with +a candle in one hand, staring at my face, whilst with the other +hand, he held back the curtain of the bed. As I have said before, +I was only partially awakened, my power of conception was +consequently very confused; it appeared to me, however, that the +man was dressed in a green coat; that he had curly brown or black +hair, and that there was something peculiar in his look. Just as I +was beginning to recollect myself, the curtain dropped, and I +heard, or thought I heard, a voice say, "Don't know the cove." +Then there was a rustling like a person undressing, whereupon being +satisfied that it was my fellow-lodger, I dropped asleep, but was +awakened again by a kind of heavy plunge upon the other bed, which +caused it to rock and creak, when I observed that the light had +been extinguished, probably blown out, if I might judge from a +rather disagreeable smell of burnt wick which remained in the room, +and which kept me awake till I heard my companion breathing hard, +when, turning on the other side, I was again once more speedily in +the arms of slumber. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + + + +Horncastle Fair. + + +It had been my intention to be up and doing early on the following +morning, but my slumbers proved so profound, that I did not wake +until about eight; on arising, I again found myself the sole +occupant of the apartment, my more alert companion having probably +risen at a much earlier hour. Having dressed myself, I descended, +and going to the stable, found my horse under the hands of my +friend the ostler, who was carefully rubbing him down. "There +a'n't a better horse in the fair," said he to me, "and as you are +one of us, and appear to be all right, I'll give you a piece of +advice--don't take less than a hundred and fifty for him; if you +mind your hits, you may get it, for I have known two hundred given +in this fair for one no better, if so good." "Well," said I, +"thank you for your advice, which I will take, and, if successful, +will give you 'summut' handsome." "Thank you," said the ostler; +"and now let me ask whether you are up to all the ways of this here +place?" "I have never been here before," said I, "but I have a +pair of tolerably sharp eyes in my head." "That I see you have," +said the ostler, "but many a body, with as sharp a pair of eyes as +yourn, has lost his horse in this fair, for want of having been +here before, therefore," said he, "I'll give you a caution or two." +Thereupon the ostler proceeded to give me at least half a dozen +cautions, only two of which I shall relate to the reader: --the +first, not to stop to listen to what any chance customer might have +to say; and the last--the one on which he appeared to lay most +stress--by no manner of means to permit a Yorkshireman to get up +into the saddle, "for," said he, "if you do, it is three to one +that he rides off with the horse; he can't help it; trust a cat +amongst cream, but never trust a Yorkshireman on the saddle of a +good horse; by-the-by," he continued, "that saddle of yours is not +a particularly good one, no more is the bridle. I tell you what, +as you seem a decent kind of a young chap, I'll lend you a saddle +and bridle of my master's, almost bran new; he won't object, I +know, as you are a friend of his, only you must not forget your +promise to come down with summut handsome after you have sold the +animal." + +After a slight breakfast I mounted the horse, which, decked out in +his borrowed finery, really looked better by a large sum of money +than on any former occasion. Making my way out of the yard of the +inn, I was instantly in the principal street of the town, up and +down which an immense number of horses were being exhibited, some +led, and others with riders. "A wonderful small quantity of good +horses in the fair this time!" I heard a stout jockey-looking +individual say, who was staring up the street with his side towards +me. "Halloo, young fellow!" said he, a few moments after I had +passed, "whose horse is that? Stop! I want to look at him!" +Though confident that he was addressing himself to me, I took no +notice, remembering the advice of the ostler, and proceeded up the +street. My horse possessed a good walking step; but walking, as +the reader knows, was not his best pace, which was the long trot, +at which I could not well exercise him in the street, on account of +the crowd of men and animals; however, as he walked along, I could +easily perceive that he attracted no slight attention amongst those +who, by their jockey dress and general appearance, I imagined to be +connoisseurs; I heard various calls to stop, to none of which I +paid the slightest attention. In a few minutes I found myself out +of the town, when, turning round for the purpose of returning, I +found I had been followed by several of the connoisseur-looking +individuals, whom I had observed in the fair. "Now would be the +time for a display," thought I; and looking around me I observed +two five-barred gates, one on each side of the road, and fronting +each other. Turning my horse's head to one, I pressed my heels to +his sides, loosened the reins, and gave an encouraging cry, +whereupon the animal cleared the gate in a twinkling. Before he +had advanced ten yards in the field to which the gate opened, I had +turned him round, and again giving him cry and rein, I caused him +to leap back again into the road, and still allowing him head, I +made him leap the other gate; and forthwith turning him round, I +caused him to leap once more into the road, where he stood proudly +tossing his head, as much as to say, "What more?" "A fine horse! a +capital horse!" said several of the connoisseurs. "What do you ask +for him?" "Too much for any of you to pay," said I. "A horse like +this is intended for other kind of customers than any of you." +"How do you know that?" said one; the very same person whom I had +heard complaining in the street of the paucity of good horses in +the fair. "Come, let us know what you ask for him?" "A hundred +and fifty pounds!" said I; "neither more nor less." "Do you call +that a great price?" said the man. "Why, I thought you would have +asked double that amount! You do yourself injustice, young man." +"Perhaps I do," said I, "but that's my affair; I do not choose to +take more." "I wish you would let me get into the saddle," said +the man; "the horse knows you, and therefore shows to more +advantage; but I should like to see how he would move under me, who +am a stranger. Will you let me get into the saddle, young man?" +"No," said I; "I will not let you get into the saddle." "Why not?" +said the man. "Lest you should be a Yorkshireman," said I; "and +should run away with the horse." "Yorkshire?" said the man; "I am +from Suffolk; silly Suffolk--so you need not be afraid of my +running away with the horse." "Oh! if that's the case," said I, "I +should be afraid that the horse would run away with you; so I will +by no means let you mount." "Will you let me look in his mouth?" +said the man. "If you please," said I; "but I tell you, he's apt +to bite." "He can scarcely be a worse bite than his master," said +the man, looking into the horse's mouth; "he's four off. I say, +young man, will you warrant this horse?" "No," said I; "I never +warrant horses; the horses that I ride can always warrant +themselves." "I wish you would let me speak a word to you," said +he. "Just come aside. It's a nice horse," said he, in a half +whisper, after I had ridden a few paces aside with him. "It's a +nice horse," said he, placing his hand upon the pommel of the +saddle, and looking up in my face, "and I think I can find you a +customer. If you would take a hundred, I think my lord would +purchase it, for he has sent me about the fair to look him up a +horse, by which he could hope to make an honest penny." "Well," +said I, "and could he not make an honest penny, and yet give me the +price I ask?" "Why," said the go-between, "a hundred and fifty +pounds is as much as the animal is worth, or nearly so; and my +lord, do you see--" "I see no reason at all," said I, "why I +should sell the animal for less than he is worth, in order that his +lordship may be benefited by him; so that if his lordship wants to +make an honest penny, he must find some person who would consider +the disadvantage of selling him a horse for less than it is worth, +as counterbalanced by the honour of dealing with a lord, which I +should never do; but I can't be wasting my time here. I am going +back to the -, where, if you, or any person, are desirous of +purchasing the horse, you must come within the next half hour, or I +shall probably not feel disposed to sell him at all." "Another +word, young man," said the jockey; but without staying to hear what +he had to say, I put the horse to his best trot, and re-entering +the town, and threading my way as well as I could through the +press, I returned to the yard of the inn, where, dismounting, I +stood still, holding the horse by the bridle. + +I had been standing in this manner about five minutes, when I saw +the jockey enter the yard, accompanied by another individual. They +advanced directly towards me. "Here is my lord come to look at the +horse, young man," said the jockey. My lord, as the jockey called +him, was a tall figure, of about five-and-thirty. He had on his +head a hat somewhat rusty, and on his back a surtout of blue rather +the worse for wear. His forehead, if not high, was exceedingly +narrow; his eyes were brown, with a rat-like glare in them; the +nose was rather long, and the mouth very wide; the cheek-bones +high, and the cheeks, as to hue and consistency, exhibiting very +much the appearance of a withered red apple; there was a gaunt +expression of hunger in the whole countenance. He had scarcely +glanced at the horse, when drawing in his cheeks, he thrust out his +lips very much after the manner of a baboon, when he sees a piece +of sugar held out towards him. "Is this horse yours?" said he, +suddenly turning towards me, with a kind of smirk. "It's my +horse," said I; "are you the person who wishes to make an honest +penny by it?" "How!" said he, drawing up his head with a very +consequential look, and speaking with a very haughty tone, "what do +you mean?" We looked at each other full in the face; after a few +moments, the muscles of the mouth of him of the hungry look began +to move violently, the face was puckered into innumerable wrinkles, +and the eyes became half closed. "Well," said I, "have you ever +seen me before? I suppose you are asking yourself that question." +"Excuse me, sir," said he, dropping his lofty look, and speaking in +a very subdued and civil tone, "I have never had the honour of +seeing you before, that is"--said he, slightly glancing at me +again, and again moving the muscles of his mouth, "no, I have never +seen you before," he added, making me a bow. "I have never had +that pleasure; my business with you, at present, is to inquire the +lowest price you are willing to take for this horse. My agent here +informs me that you ask one hundred and fifty pounds, which I +cannot think of giving--the horse is a showy horse, but look, my +dear sir, he has a defect here, and there in his near fore leg I +observe something which looks very like a splint--yes, upon my +credit," said he, touching the animal, "he has a splint, or +something which will end in one. A hundred and fifty pounds, sir! +what could have induced you ever to ask anything like that for this +animal? I protest that, in my time, I have frequently bought a +better for-- Who are you, sir? I am in treaty for this horse," +said he to a man who had come up whilst he was talking, and was now +looking into the horse's mouth. "Who am I?" said the man, still +looking into the horse's mouth; "who am I? his lordship asks me. +Ah, I see, close on five," said he, releasing the horse's jaws, and +looking at me. This new corner was a thin, wiry-made individual, +with wiry curling brown hair; his face was dark, and wore an arch +and somewhat roguish expression; upon one of his eyes was a kind of +speck or beam; he might be about forty, wore a green jockey coat, +and held in his hand a black riding whip, with a knob of silver +wire. As I gazed upon his countenance, it brought powerfully to my +mind the face which, by the light of the candle, I had seen staring +over me on the preceding night, when lying in bed and half asleep. +Close beside him, and seemingly in his company, stood an +exceedingly tall figure, that of a youth, seemingly about one-and- +twenty, dressed in a handsome riding dress, and wearing on his head +a singular hat, green in colour, and with a very high peak. "What +do you ask for this horse?" said he of the green coat, winking at +me with the eye which had a beam in it, whilst the other shone and +sparkled like Mrs. Colonel W-'s Golconda diamond. "Who are you, +sir, I demand once more?" said he of the hungry look. "Who am I? +why, who should I be but Jack Dale, who buys horses for himself and +other folk; I want one at present for this short young gentleman," +said he, motioning with his finger to the gigantic youth. "Well, +sir," said the other, "and what business have you to interfere +between me and any purchase I may be disposed to make?" "Well, +then," said the other, "be quick and purchase the horse, or, +perhaps, I may." "Do you think I am to be dictated to by a fellow +of your description?" said his lordship, "begone, or--" "What do +you ask for this horse?" said the other to me, very coolly. "A +hundred and fifty," said I. "I shouldn't mind giving it to you," +said he. "You will do no such thing," said his lordship, speaking +so fast that he almost stuttered. "Sir," said he to me, "I must +give you what you ask; Symmonds, take possession of the animal for +me," said he to the other jockey who attended him. "You will +please to do no such thing without my consent," said I, "I have not +sold him." "I have this moment told you that I will give you the +price you demand," said his lordship; "is not that sufficient?" +"No," said I, "there is a proper manner of doing everything--had +you come forward in a manly and gentlemanly manner to purchase the +horse, I should have been happy to sell him to you, but after all +the fault you have found with him, I would not sell him to you at +any price, so send your friend to find up another." "You behave in +this manner, I suppose," said his lordship, "because this fellow +has expressed a willingness to come to your terms. I would advise +you to be cautious how you trust the animal in his hands; I think I +have seen him before, and could tell you--" "What can you tell of +me?" said the other, going up to him; "except that I have been a +poor dicky-boy, and that now I am a dealer in horses, and that my +father was lagged; that's all you could tell of me, and that I +don't mind telling myself: but there are two things they can't say +of me, they can't say that I am either a coward or a screw either, +except so far as one who gets his bread by horses may be expected +to be; and they can't say of me that I ever ate up an ice which a +young woman was waiting for, or that I ever backed out of a fight. +Horse!" said he, motioning with his finger tauntingly to the other; +"what do you want with a horse, except to take the bread out of the +mouth of a poor man--to-morrow is not the battle of Waterloo, so +that you don't want to back out of danger, by pretending to have +hurt yourself by falling from the creature's back, my lord of the +white feather--come, none of your fierce looks--I am not afraid of +you." In fact, the other had assumed an expression of the +deadliest malice, his teeth were clenched, his lips quivered, and +were quite pale; the rat-like eyes sparkled, and he made a half +spring, a la rat, towards his adversary, who only laughed. +Restraining himself, however, he suddenly turned to his +understrapper, saying, "Symmonds, will you see me thus insulted? go +and trounce this scoundrel; you can, I know." "Symmonds trounce +me!" said the other, going up to the person addressed, and drawing +his hand contemptuously over his face; "why, I beat Symmonds in +this very yard in one round three years ago; didn't I, Symmonds?" +said he to the understrapper, who held down his head, muttering, in +a surly tone, "I didn't come here to fight; let every one take his +own part." "That's right, Symmonds," said the other, "especially +every one from whom there is nothing to be got. I would give you +half-a-crown for all the trouble you have had, provided I were not +afraid that my Lord Plume there would get it from you as soon as +you leave the yard together. Come, take yourselves both off; +there's nothing to be made here." Indeed, his lordship seemed to +be of the same opinion, for after a further glance at the horse, a +contemptuous look at me, and a scowl at the jockey, he turned on +his heel, muttering something which sounded like fellows, and +stalked out of the yard, followed by Symmonds. + +"And now, young man," said the jockey, or whatever he was, turning +to me with an arch leer, "I suppose I may consider myself as the +purchaser of this here animal, for the use and behoof of this young +gentleman?" making a sign with his head to the tall young man by +his side. "By no means," said I, "I am utterly unacquainted with +either of you, and before parting with the horse I must be +satisfied as to the respectability of the purchaser." "Oh! as to +that matter," said he, "I have plenty of vouchers for my +respectability about me;" and thrusting his hand into his bosom +below his waistcoat, he drew out a large bundle of notes. "These +are the kind of things," said he, "which vouch best for a man's +respectability." "Not always," said I; "indeed, sometimes these +kind of things need vouchers for themselves." The man looked at me +with a peculiar look. "Do you mean to say that these notes are not +sufficient notes?" said he, "because if you do I shall take the +liberty of thinking you are not over civil, and when I thinks a +person is not over and above civil I sometimes takes off my coat; +and when my coat is off--" "You sometimes knock people down," I +added; "well, whether you knock me down or not, I beg leave to tell +you that I am a stranger in this fair, and that I shall part with +the horse to nobody who has no better guarantee for his +respectability than a roll of bank-notes, which may be good or not +for what I know, who am not a judge of such things." "Oh! if you +are a stranger here," said the man, "as I believe you are, never +having seen you here before except last night, when I think I saw +you above stairs by the glimmer of a candle--I say, if you are a +stranger, you are quite right to be cautious; queer things being +done in this fair, as nobody knows better than myself," he added +with a leer; "but I suppose if the landlord of the house vouches +for me and my notes, you will have no objection to part with the +horse to me?" "None whatever," said I, "and in the meantime the +horse can return to the stable." + +Thereupon I delivered the horse to my friend the ostler. + +The landlord of the house on being questioned by me as to the +character and condition of my new acquaintance, informed me that he +was a respectable horsedealer, and an intimate friend of his, +whereupon the purchase was soon brought to a satisfactory +conclusion. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + + + +High Dutch. + + +It was evening: and myself and the two acquaintances I had made in +the fair--namely, the jockey and the tall foreigner--sat in a large +upstairs room, which looked into a court; we had dined with several +people connected with the fair at a long table d'hote; they had now +departed, and we sat at a small side-table with wine and a candle +before us; both my companions had pipes in their mouths--the jockey +a common pipe, and the foreigner, one, the syphon of which, made of +some kind of wood, was at least six feet long, and the bowl of +which, made of a white kind of substance like porcelain, and +capable of holding nearly an ounce of tobacco, rested on the +ground. The jockey frequently emptied and replenished his glass; +the foreigner sometimes raised his to his lips, for no other +purpose seemingly than to moisten them, as he never drained his +glass. As for myself, though I did not smoke, I had a glass before +me, from which I sometimes took a sip. The room, notwithstanding +the window was flung open, was in general so filled with smoke, +chiefly that which was drawn from the huge bowl of the foreigner, +that my companions and I were frequently concealed from each +other's eyes. The conversation, which related entirely to the +events of the fair, was carried on by the jockey and myself, the +foreigner, who appeared to understand the greater part of what we +said, occasionally putting in a few observations in broken English. +At length the jockey, after the other had made some ineffectual +attempts to express something intelligibly which he wished to say, +observed, "Isn't it a pity that so fine a fellow as meinheer, and +so clever a fellow too, as I believe him to be, is not a better +master of our language?" + +"Is the gentleman a German?" said I; "if so, I can interpret for +him anything he wishes to say." + +"The deuce you can," said the jockey, taking his pipe out of his +mouth, and staring at me through the smoke. + +"Ha! you speak German," vociferated the foreigner in that language. +"By Isten, I am glad of it! I wanted to say--" And here he said +in German what he wished to say, and which was of no great +importance, and which I translated into English. + +"Well, if you don't put me out," said the jockey; "what language is +that--Dutch?" + +"High Dutch," said I. + +"High Dutch, and you speak High Dutch,--why, I had booked you for +as great an ignoramus as myself, who can't write--no, nor +distinguish in a book a great A from a bull's foot." + +"A person may be a very clever man," said I--"no, not a clever man, +for clever signifies clerkly, and a clever man one who is able to +read and write, and entitled to the benefit of his clergy or +clerkship; but a person may be a very acute person without being +able to read or write. I never saw a more acute countenance than +your own." + +"No soft soap," said the jockey, "for I never uses any. However, +thank you for your information; I have hitherto thought myself +a'nition clever fellow, but from henceforth shall consider myself +just the contrary, and only--what's the word?--confounded 'cute." + +"Just so," said I. + +"Well," said the jockey, "as you say you can speak High Dutch, I +should like to hear you and master six foot six fire away at each +other." + +"I cannot speak German," said I, "but I can understand tolerably +well what others say in it." + +"Come no backing out," said the jockey, "let's hear you fire away +for the glory of Old England." + +"Then you are a German?" said I, in German to the foreigner. + +"That will do," said the jockey, "keep it up." + +"A German!" said the tall foreigner. "No, I thank God that I do +not belong to the stupid sluggish Germanic race, but to a braver, +taller, and handsomer people;" here taking the pipe out of his +mouth, he stood up proudly erect, so that his head nearly touched +the ceiling of the room, then reseating himself, and again putting +the syphon to his lips, he added, "I am a Magyar." + +"What is that?" said I. + +The foreigner looked at me for a moment, somewhat contemptuously, +through the smoke, then said, in a voice of thunder, "A Hungarian!" + +"What a voice the chap has when he pleases!" interposed the jockey; +"what is he saying?" + +"Merely that he is a Hungarian," said I; but I added, "the +conversation of this gentleman and myself in a language which you +can't understand must be very tedious to you, we had better give it +up." + +"Keep on with it," said the jockey, "I shall go on listening very +contentedly till I fall asleep, no bad thing to do at most times." + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + + + +The Hungarian. + + +"Then you are a countryman of Tekeli, and of the queen who made the +celebrated water," said I, speaking to the Hungarian in German, +which I was able to do tolerably well, owing to my having +translated the Publisher's philosophy into that language, always +provided I did not attempt to say much at a time. + +Hungarian. Ah! you have heard of Tekeli, and of L'eau de la Reine +d'Hongrie. How is that? + +Myself. I have seen a play acted, founded on the exploits of +Tekeli, and have read Pigault Le Brun's beautiful romance, entitled +the "Barons of Felsheim," in which he is mentioned. As for the +water, I have heard a lady, the wife of a master of mine, speak of +it. + +Hungarian. Was she handsome? + +Myself. Very. + +Hungarian. Did she possess the water? + +Myself. I should say not; for I have heard her express a great +curiosity about it. + +Hungarian. Was she growing old? + +Myself. Of course not; but why do you put all these questions? + +Hungarian. Because the water is said to make people handsome, and +above all, to restore to the aged the beauty of their youth. Well! +Tekeli was my countryman, and I have the honour of having some of +the blood of the Tekelis in my veins, but with respect to the +queen, pardon me if I tell you that she was not an Hungarian; she +was a Pole--Ersebet by name, daughter of Wladislaus Locticus King +of Poland; she was the fourth spouse of Caroly the Second, King of +the Magyar country, who married her in 1320. She was a great woman +and celebrated politician, though at present chiefly known by her +water. + +Myself. How came she to invent it? + +Hungarian. If her own account may be believed, she did not invent +it. After her death, as I have read in Florentius of Buda, there +was found a statement of the manner in which she came by it, +written in her own hand, on a fly-leaf of her breviary, to the +following effect:- Being afflicted with a grievous disorder at the +age of seventy-two, she received the medicine which was called her +water, from an old hermit whom she never saw before or afterwards; +it not only cured her, but restored to her all her former beauty, +so that the King of Poland fell in love with her, and made her an +offer of marriage, which she refused for the glory of God, from +whose holy angel she believed she had received the water. The +receipt for making it and directions for using it, were also found +on the fly-leaf. The principal component parts were burnt wine and +rosemary, passed through an alembic; a drachm of it was to be taken +once a week, "etelbenn vagy italbann," in the food or the drink, +early in the morning, and the cheeks were to be moistened with it +every day. The effects according to the statement, were wonderful- +-and perhaps they were upon the queen; but whether the water has +been equally efficacious on other people, is a point which I cannot +determine. I should wish to see some old woman who has been +restored to youthful beauty by the use of L'eau de la Reine +d'Hongrie. + +Myself. Perhaps, if you did, the old gentlewoman would hardly be +so ingenuous as the queen. But who are the Hungarians--descendants +of Attila and his people? + +The Hungarian shook his head, and gave me to understand that he did +not believe that his nation were the descendants of Attila and his +people, though he acknowledged that they were probably of the same +race. Attila and his armies, he said, came and disappeared in a +very mysterious manner, and that nothing could be said with +positiveness about them; that the people now known as Magyars first +made their appearance in Muscovy in the year 884, under the +leadership of Almus, called so from Alom, which, in the Hungarian +language, signifies a dream; his mother, before his birth, having +dreamt that the child with which she was enceinte would be the +father of a long succession of kings, which, in fact, was the case; +that after beating the Russians he entered Hungary, and coming to a +place called Ungvar, from which many people believed that modern +Hungary derived its name, he captured it, and held in it a grand +festival, which lasted four days, at the end of which time he +resigned the leadership of the Magyars to his son Arpad. This +Arpad and his Magyars utterly subdued Pannonia--that is, Hungary +and Transylvania, wresting the government of it from the Sclavonian +tribes who inhabited it, and settling down amongst them as +conquerors! After giving me this information, the Hungarian +exclaimed with much animation,--"A goodly country that which they +had entered on, consisting of a plain surrounded by mountains, some +of which intersect it here and there, with noble rapid rivers, the +grandest of which is the mighty Dunau; a country with tiny +volcanoes, casting up puffs of smoke and steam, and from which hot +springs arise, good for the sick; with many fountains, some of +which are so pleasant to the taste as to be preferred to wine; with +a generous soil which, warmed by a beautiful sun, is able to +produce corn, grapes, and even the Indian weed; in fact, one of the +finest countries in the world, which even a Spaniard would +pronounce to be nearly equal to Spain. Here they rested-- +meditating, however, fresh conquests. Oh, the Magyars soon showed +themselves a mighty people. Besides Hungary and Transylvania, they +subdued Bulgaria and Bosnia, and the land of Tot, now called +Sclavonia. The generals of Zoltan, the son of Arpad, led troops of +horsemen to the banks of the Rhine. One of them, at the head of a +host, besieged Constantinople. It was then that Botond engaged in +combat with a Greek of gigantic stature, who came out of the city +and challenged the two best men in the Magyar army. 'I am the +feeblest of the Magyars,' said Botond, 'but I will kill thee;' and +he performed his word, having previously given a proof of the +feebleness of his arm by striking his battle-axe through the brazen +gate, making a hole so big that a child of five years old could +walk through it." + +Myself. Of what religion were the old Hungarians? + +Hungarian. They had some idea of a Supreme Being, whom they called +Isten, which word is still used by the Magyars for God; but their +chief devotion was directed to sorcerers and soothsayers, something +like the Schamans of the Siberian steppes. They were converted to +Christianity chiefly through the instrumentality of Istvan or +Stephen, called after his death St. Istvan, who ascended the throne +in the year one thousand. He was born in heathenesse, and his +original name was Vojk: he was the first kiraly, or king of the +Magyars. Their former leaders had been called fejedelmek, or +dukes. The Magyar language has properly no term either for king or +house. Kiraly is a word derived from the Sclaves; haz, or house, +from the Germans, who first taught them to build houses, their +original dwellings having been tilted waggons. + +Myself. Many thanks for your account of the great men of your +country. + +Hungarian. The great men of my country! I have only told you of +the-- Well, I acknowledge that Almus and Arpad were great men, but +Hungary has produced many greater; I will not trouble you by +recapitulating all, but there is one name I cannot forbear +mentioning--but you have heard of it--even at Horncastle, the name +of Hunyadi must be familiar. + +Myself. It may be so, though I rather doubt it; but, however that +may be, I confess my ignorance. I have never, until this moment, +heard the name of Hunyadi. + +Hungarian. Not of Hunyadi Janos, not of Hunyadi John--for the +genius of our language compels us to put a man's Christian name +after his other; perhaps you have heard of the name of Corvinus? + +Myself. Yes, I have heard the name of Corvinus. + +Hungarian. By my God, I am glad of it; I thought our hammer of +destruction, our thunderbolt, whom the Greeks called Achilles, must +be known to the people of Horncastle. Well, Hunyadi and Corvinus +are the same. + +Myself. Corvinus means the man of the crow, or raven. I suppose +that your John, when a boy, climbed up to a crow or a raven's nest, +and stole the young; a bold feat, well befitting a young hero. + +Hungarian. By Isten, you are an acute guesser; a robbery there +was, but it was not Hunyadi who robbed the raven, but the raven who +robbed Hunyadi. + +Myself. How was that? + +Hungarian. In this manner: Hunyadi, according to tradition, was +the son of King Sigmond, by a peasant's daughter. The king saw and +fell in love with her, whilst marching against the vaivode of +Wallachia. He had some difficulty in persuading her to consent to +his wishes, and she only yielded at last, on the king making her a +solemn promise that, in the event of her becoming with child by +him, he would handsomely provide for her and the infant. The king +proceeded on his expedition; and on his returning in triumph from +Wallachia, again saw the girl, who informed him that she was +enceinte by him; the king was delighted with the intelligence, gave +the girl money, and at the same time a ring, requesting her, if she +brought forth a son, to bring the ring to Buda with the child, and +present it to him. When her time was up, the peasant's daughter +brought forth a fair son, who was baptized by the name of John. +After some time the young woman communicated the whole affair to +her elder brother, whose name was Gaspar, and begged him to convey +her and the child to the king at Buda. The brother consented, and +both set out, taking the child with them. On their way, the woman, +wanting to wash her clothes, laid the child down, giving it the +king's ring to play with. A raven, who saw the glittering ring, +came flying, and plucking it out of the child's hand, carried it up +into a tree; the child suddenly began to cry, and the mother, +hearing it, left her washing, and running to the child, forthwith +missed the ring, but hearing the raven croak in the tree, she +lifted up her eyes, and saw it with the ring in its beak. The +woman, in great terror, called her brother, and told him what had +happened, adding that she durst not approach the king if the raven +took away the ring. Gaspar, seizing his cross-bow and quiver, ran +to the tree, where the raven was yet with the ring, and discharged +an arrow at it, but, being in a great hurry, he missed it; with his +second shot he was more lucky, for he hit the raven in the breast, +which, together with the ring, fell to the ground. Taking up the +ring, they went on their way, and shortly arrived at Buda. One +day, as the king was walking after dinner in his outer hall, the +woman appeared before him with the child, and, showing him the +ring, said, "Mighty lord! behold this token! and take pity upon me +and your own son." King Sigmond took the child and kissed it, and, +after a pause, said to the mother, "You have done right in bringing +me the boy; I will take care of you, and make him a nobleman." The +king was as good as his word, he provided for the mother; caused +the boy to be instructed in knightly exercises, and made him a +present of the town of Hunyad, in Transylvania, on which account he +was afterwards called Hunyadi, and gave him, as an armorial sign, a +raven bearing a ring in his beak. + +Such, oh young man of Horncastle! is the popular account of the +birth of the great captain of Hungary, as related by Florentius of +Buda. There are other accounts of his birth, which is, indeed, +involved in much mystery, and of the reason of his being called +Corvinus, but as this is the most pleasing, and is, upon the whole, +founded on quite as good evidence as the others, I have selected it +for recitation. + +Myself. I heartily thank you; but you must tell me something more +of Hunyadi. You call him your great captain; what did he do? + +Hungarian. Do! what no other man of his day could have done. He +broke the power of the Turk when he was coming to overwhelm Europe. +From the blows inflicted by Hunyadi, the Turk never thoroughly +recovered; he has been frequently worsted in latter times, but none +but Hunyadi could have routed the armies of Amurath and Mahomed the +Second. + +Myself. How was it that he had an opportunity of displaying his +military genius? + +Hungarian. I can hardly tell you, but his valour soon made him +famous; King Albert made him Ban of Szorenyi. He became eventually +waivode of Transylvania, and governor of Hungary. His first grand +action was the defeat of Bashaw Isack; and though himself surprised +and routed at St. Imre, he speedily regained his prestige by +defeating the Turks, with enormous slaughter, killing their leader, +Mezerbeg; and subsequently, at the battle of the Iron Gates, he +destroyed ninety thousand Turks, sent by Amurath to avenge the late +disgrace. It was then that the Greeks called him Achilles. + +Myself. He was not always successful. + +Hungarian. Who could be always successful against the early Turk? +He was defeated in the battle in which King Vladislaus lost his +life, but his victories outnumbered his defeats three-fold. His +grandest victory--perhaps the grandest ever achieved by man--was +over the terrible Mahomed the Second; who, after the taking of +Constantinople in 1453, said, "One God in Heaven--one king on +earth;" and marched to besiege Belgrade at the head of one hundred, +and fifty thousand men; swearing by the beard of the prophet, "That +he would sup within it ere two months were elapsed." He brought +with him dogs, to eat the bodies of the Christians whom he should +take or slay; so says Florentius; hear what he also says: The Turk +sat down before the town towards the end of June, 1454, covering +the Dunau and Szava with ships: and on the 4th of July he began to +cannonade Belgrade with cannons twenty-five feet long, whose roar +could be heard at Szeged, a distance of twenty-four leagues, at +which place Hunyadi had assembled his forces. Hunyadi had been +able to raise only fifteen thousand of well-armed and disciplined +men, though he had with him vast bands of people, who called +themselves Soldiers of the Cross, but who consisted of +inexperienced lads from school, peasants, and hermits, armed with +swords, slings, and clubs. Hunyadi, undismayed by the great +disparity between his forces and those of the Turk, advanced to +relieve Belgrade, and encamped at Szalankemen with his army. There +he saw at once, that his first step must be to attack the flotilla; +he therefore privately informed Szilagy, his wife's brother, who at +that time defended Belgrade, that it was his intention to attack +the ships of the Turks on the 14th day of July in front, and +requested his co-operation in the rear. On the 14th came on the +commencement of the great battle of Belgrade, between Hunyadi and +the Turk. Many days it lasted. + +Myself. Describe it. + +Hungarian. I cannot. One has described it well--Florentius of +Buda. I can only repeat a few of his words: --"On the appointed +day, Hunyadi, with two hundred vessels, attacked the Turkish +flotilla in front, whilst Szilagy, with forty vessels, filled with +the men of Belgrade, assailed it in the rear; striving for the same +object, they sunk many of the Turkish vessels, captured seventy- +four, burnt many, and utterly annihilated the whole fleet. After +this victory, Hunyadi, with his army, entered Belgrade, to the +great joy of the Magyars. But though the force of Mahomed upon the +water was destroyed, that upon the land remained entire; and with +this, during six days and nights, he attacked the city without +intermission, destroying its walls in many parts. His last and +most desperate assault was made on the 21st day of July. Twice did +the Turks gain possession of the outer town, and twice was it +retaken with indescribable slaughter. The next day the combat +raged without ceasing till mid-day, when the Turks were again +beaten out of the town, and pursued by the Magyars to their camp. +There the combat was renewed, both sides displaying the greatest +obstinacy, until Mahomed received a great wound over his left eye. +The Turks then, turning their faces, fled, leaving behind them +three hundred cannon in the hands of the Christians, and more than +twenty-four thousand slain on the field of battle." + +Myself. After that battle, I suppose Hunyadi enjoyed his triumphs +in peace? + +Hungarian. In the deepest, for he shortly died. His great soul +quitted his body, which was exhausted by almost superhuman +exertions, on the 11th of August, 1456. Shortly before he died, +according to Florentius, a comet appeared, sent, as it would seem, +to announce his coming end. The whole Christian world mourned his +loss. The Pope ordered the cardinals to perform a funeral ceremony +at Rome in his honour. His great enemy himself grieved for him, +and pronounced his finest eulogium. When Mahomed the Second heard +of his death, he struck his head for some time against the ground +without speaking. Suddenly he broke silence with these words, +"Notwithstanding he was my enemy, yet do I bewail his loss; since +the sun has shone in heaven, no Prince had ever yet such a man." + +Myself. What was the name of his Prince? + +Hungarian. Laszlo the Fifth; who, though under infinite +obligations to Hunyadi, was anything but grateful to him; for he +once consented to a plan which was laid to assassinate him, +contrived by his mortal enemy Ulrik, Count of Cilejia; and after +Hunyadi's death, caused his eldest son, Hunyadi Laszlo, to be +executed on a false accusation, and imprisoned his younger son, +Matyas, who, on the death of Laszlo, was elected by the Magyars to +be their king, on the 24th of January, 1458. + +Myself. Was this Matyas a good king? + +Hungarian. Was Matyas Corvinus a good king? O young man of +Horncastle! he was the best and greatest that ever Hungary +possessed, and, after his father, the most renowned warrior,--some +of our best laws were framed by him. It was he who organized the +Hussar force, and it was he who took Vienna. Why does your +Government always send fools to represent it at Vienna? + +Myself. I really cannot say; but with respect to the Hussar force, +is it of Hungarian origin? + +Hungarian. Its name shows its origin. Huz, in Hungarian, is +twenty and the Hussar force is so called because it is formed of +twentieths. A law was issued by which it was ordered that every +Hungarian nobleman, out of every twenty dependents, should produce +a well-equipped horseman, and with him proceed to the field of +battle. + +Myself. Why did Matyas capture Venna? + +Hungarian. Because the Emperor Frederick took part against him +with the King of Poland, who claimed the kingdom of Hungary for his +son, and had also assisted the Turk. He captured it in the year +1487, but did not survive his triumph long, expiring there in the +year 1490. He was so veracious a man, that it was said of him, +after his death, "Truth died with Matyas." It might be added that +the glory of Hungary departed with him. I wish to say nothing more +connected with Hungarian history. + +Myself. Another word. Did Matyas leave a son? + +Hungarian. A natural son, Hunyadi John, called so after the great +man. He would have been universally acknowledged as King of +Hungary but for the illegitimacy of his birth. As it was, Ulaszlo, +the son of the King of Poland, afterwards called Ulaszlo the +Second, who claimed Hungary as being descended from Albert, was +nominated king by a great majority of the Magyar electors. Hunyadi +John for some time disputed the throne with him; there was some +bloodshed, but Hunyadi John eventually submitted, and became the +faithful captain of Ulaszlo, notwithstanding that the Turk offered +to assist him with an army of two hundred thousand men. + +Myself. Go on. + +Hungarian. To what? Tche Drak, to the Mohacs Veszedelem. Ulaszlo +left a son, Lajos the Second, born without skin, as it is said, +certainly without a head. He, contrary to the advice of all his +wise counsellors,--and amongst them was Batory Stephen, who became +eventually King of Poland--engaged, with twenty-five thousand men, +at Mohacs, Soliman the Turk, who had an army of two hundred +thousand. Drak! the Magyars were annihilated, King Lajos +disappeared with his heavy horse and armour in a bog. We call that +battle, which was fought on the 29th of August, 1526, the +destruction of Mohacs, but it was the destruction of Hungary. + +Myself. You have twice used the word drak, what is the meaning of +it? Is it Hungarian? + +Hungarian. No! it belongs to the mad Wallacks. They are a nation +of madmen on the other side of Transylvania. Their country was +formerly a fief of Hungary, like Moldavia, which is inhabited by +the same race, who speak the same language and are equally mad. + +Myself. What language do they speak? + +Hungarian. A strange mixture of Latin and Sclavonian--they +themselves being a mixed race of Romans and Sclavonians. Trajan +sent certain legions to form military colonies in Dacia; and the +present Wallacks and Moldavians are, to a certain extent, the +descendants of the Roman soldiers, who married the women of the +country. I say to a certain extent, for the Sclavonian element +both in blood and language seems to prevail. + +Myself. And what is drak? + +Hungarian. Dragon; which the Wallacks use for "devil." The term +is curious, as it shows that the old Romans looked upon the dragon +as an infernal being. + +Myself. You have been in Wallachia? + +Hungarian. I have, and glad I was to get out of it. I hate the +mad Wallacks. + +Myself. Why do you call them mad? + +Hungarian. They are always drinking or talking. I never saw a +Wallachian eating or silent. They talk like madmen, and drink like +madmen. In drinking they use small phials, the contents of which +they pour down their throats. When I first went amongst them I +thought the whole nation was under a course of physic, but the +terrible jabber of their tongues soon undeceived me. Drak was the +first word I heard on entering Dacia, and the last when I left it. +The Moldaves, if possible, drink more, and talk more than the +Wallachians. + +Myself. It is singular enough that the only Moldavian I have known +could not speak. I suppose he was born dumb. + +Hungarian. A Moldavian born dumb! Excuse me, the thing is +impossible,--all Moldavians are born talking! I have known a +Moldavian who could not speak, but he was not born dumb. His +master, an Armenian, snipped off part of his tongue at Adrianople. +He drove him mad with his jabber. He is now in London, where his +master has a house. I have letters of credit on the house: the +clerk paid me money in London, the master was absent; the money +which you received for the horse belonged to that house. + +Myself. Another word with respect to Hungarian history. + +Hungarian. Drak! I wish to say nothing more about Hungarian +history. + +Myself. The Turk, I suppose, after Mohacs, got possession of +Hungary? + +Hungarian. Not exactly. The Turk, upon the whole, showed great +moderation; not so the Austrian. Ferdinand the First claimed the +crown of Hungary as being the cousin of Maria, widow of Lajos; he +found too many disposed to support him. His claim, however, was +resisted by Zapolya John, a Hungarian magnate, who caused himself +to be elected king. Hungary was for a long time devastated by wars +between the partisans of Zapolya and Ferdinand. At last Zapolya +called in the Turk. Soliman behaved generously to him, and after +his death befriended his young son, and Isabella his queen; +eventually the Turks became masters of Transylvania and the greater +part of Hungary. They were not bad masters, and had many friends +in Hungary, especially amongst those of the reformed faith, to +which I have myself the honour of belonging; those of the reformed +faith found the Mufti more tolerant than the Pope. Many Hungarians +went with the Turks to the siege of Vienna, whilst Tekeli and his +horsemen guarded Hungary for them. A gallant enterprise that siege +of Vienna, the last great effort of the Turk; it failed, and he +speedily lost Hungary, but he did not sneak from Hungary like a +frightened hound. His defence of Buda will not be soon forgotten, +where Apty Basha, the governor, died fighting like a lion in the +breach. There's many a Hungarian would prefer Stamboul to Vienna. +Why does your Government always send fools to represent it at +Vienna? + +Myself. I have already told you that I cannot say. What became of +Tekeli? + +Hungarian. When Hungary was lost he retired with the Turks into +Turkey. Count Renoncourt, in his Memoirs, mentions having seen him +at Adrianople. The Sultan, in consideration of the services which +he had rendered to the Moslem in Hungary, made over the revenues of +certain towns and districts for his subsistence. The count says +that he always went armed to the teeth, and was always attended by +a young female dressed in male attire, who had followed him in his +wars, and had more than once saved his life. His end is wrapped in +mystery, I--whose greatest boast, next to being a Hungarian, is to +be of his blood--know nothing of his end. + +Myself. Allow me to ask who you are? + +Hungarian. Egy szegeny Magyar Nemes ember, a poor Hungarian +nobleman, son of one yet poorer. I was born in Transylvania, not +far to the west of good Coloscvar. I served some time in the +Austrian army as a noble Hussar, but am now equerry to a great +nobleman, to whom I am distantly related. In his service I have +travelled far and wide, buying horses. I have been in Russia and +in Turkey, and am now at Horncastle, where I have had the +satisfaction to meet with you, and to buy your horse, which is, in +truth, a noble brute. + +Myself. For a soldier and equerry you seem to know a great deal of +the history of your country. + +Hungarian. All I know is derived from Florentius of Buda, whom we +call Budai Ferentz. He was professor of Greek and Latin at the +Reformed College of Debreczen, where I was educated; he wrote a +work entitled "Magyar Polgari Lexicon," Lives of Great Hungarian +Citizens. He was dead before I was born, but I found his book, +when I was a child, in the solitary home of my father, which stood +on the confines of a puszta, or wilderness, and that book I used to +devour in winter nights when the winds were whistling around the +house. Oh I how my blood used to glow at the descriptions of +Magyar valour, and likewise of Turkish; for Florentius has always +done justice to the Turk. Many a passage similar to this have I +got by heart; it is connected with a battle on the plain of Rigo, +which Hunyadi lost:- "The next day, which was Friday, as the two +armies were drawn up in battle array, a Magyar hero riding forth, +galloped up and down, challenging the Turks to single combat. Then +came out to meet him the son of a renowned bashaw of Asia; rushing +upon each other, both broke their lances, but the Magyar hero and +his horse rolled over upon the ground, for the Turks had always the +best horses." O young man of Horncastle! if ever you learn +Hungarian--and learn it assuredly you will after what I have told +you--read the book of Florentius of Buda, even if you go to Hungary +to get it, for you will scarcely find it elsewhere, and even there +with difficulty, for the book has been long out of print. It +describes the actions of the great men of Hungary down to the +middle of the sixteenth century; and besides being written in the +purest Hungarian, has the merit of having for its author a +professor of the Reformed College of Debreczen. + +Myself. I will go to Hungary rather than not read it. I am glad +that the Turk beat the Magyar. When I used to read the ballads of +Spain I always sided with the Moor against the Christian. + +Hungarian. It was a drawn fight after all, for the terrible horse +of the Turk presently flung his own master, whereupon the two +champions returned to their respective armies; but in the grand +conflict which ensued, the Turks beat the Magyars, pursuing them +till night, and striking them on the necks with their scymetars. +The Turk is a noble fellow; I should wish to be a Turk, were I not +a Magyar. + +Myself. The Turk always keeps his word, I am told. + +Hungarian. Which the Christian very seldom does, and even the +Hungarian does not always. In 1444 Ulaszlo made, at Szeged, peace +with Amurath for ten years, which he swore with an oath to keep, +but at the instigation of the Pope Julian he broke it, and induced +his great captain, Hunyadi John, to share in the perjury. The +consequence was the battle of Varna, of the 10th of November, in +which Hunyadi was routed, and Ulaszlo slain. Did you ever hear his +epitaph? it is both solemn and edifying:- + + +Romulidae Cannas ego Varnam clade notavi; +Discite rnortales non temerare fidem: +Me nisi Pontifices jussissent rumpere foedus +Non ferret Scythicum Pannonis ora jugum." + + +"Halloo!" said the jockey, starting up from a doze in which he had +been indulging for the last hour, his head leaning upon his breast, +"what is that? That's not high Dutch; I bargained for high Dutch, +and I left you speaking high Dutch, as it sounded very much like +the language of horses, as I have been told high Dutch does; but as +for what you are speaking now, whatever you may call it, it sounds +more like the language of another kind of animal. I suppose you +want to insult me, because I was once a dicky-boy." + +"Nothing of the kind," said I; "the gentleman was making a +quotation in Latin." + +"Latin, was it?" said the jockey; "that alters the case. Latin is +genteel, and I have sent my eldest boy to an academy to learn it. +Come, let us hear you fire away in Latin," he continued, proceeding +to re-light his pipe, which, before going to sleep, he had laid on +the table. + +"If you wish to follow the discourse in Latin," said the Hungarian, +in very bad English, "I can oblige you; I learned to speak very +good Latin in the college of Debreczen." + +"That's more," said I, "than I have done in the colleges where I +have been; in any little conversation which we may yet have, I wish +you would use German." + +"Well," said the jockey, taking a whiff, "make your conversation as +short as possible, whether in Latin or Dutch, for, to tell you the +truth, I am rather tired of merely playing listener." + +"You were saying you had been in Russia," said I; "I believe the +Russians are part of the Sclavonian race." + +Hungarian. Yes, part of the great Sclavonian family; one of the +most numerous races in the world. The Russians themselves are very +numerous; would that the Magyars could boast of the fifth part of +their number! + +Myself. What is the number of the Magyars? + +Hungarian. Barely four millions. We came a tribe of Tartars into +Europe, and settled down amongst Sclavonians, whom we conquered, +but who never coalesced with us. The Austrian at present plays in +Pannonia the Sclavonian against us, and us against the Sclavonian; +but the downfall of the Austrian is at hand; they, like us, are not +a numerous people. + +Myself. Who will bring about his downfall? + +Hungarian. The Russians. The Rysckie Tsar will lead his people +forth, all the Sclavonians will join him, he will conquer all +before him. + +Myself. Are the Russians good soldiers? + +Hungarian. They are stubborn and unflinching to an astonishing +degree, and their fidelity to their Tsar is quite admirable. See +how the Russians behaved at Plescova, in Livonia, in the old time, +against our great Batory Stephen; they defended the place till it +was a heap of rubbish, and mark how they behaved after they had +been made prisoners. Stephen offered them two alternatives:- to +enter into his service, in which they would have good pay, +clothing, and fair treatment; or to be allowed to return to Russia. +Without the slightest hesitation they, to a man, chose the latter, +though well aware that their beloved Tsar, the cruel Ivan +Basilowits, would put them all to death, amidst tortures the most +horrible, for not doing what was impossible--preserving the town. + +Myself. You speak Russian? + +Hungarian. A little. I was born in the vicinity of a Sclavonian +tribe; the servants of our house were Sclavonians, and I early +acquired something of their language, which differs not much from +that of Russia; when in that country I quickly understood what was +said. + +Myself. Have the Russians any literature? + +Hungarian. Doubtless; but I am not acquainted with it, as I do not +read their language; but I know something of their popular tales, +to which I used to listen in their izbushkas; a principal personage +in these is a creation quite original--called Baba Yaga. + +Myself. Who is the Baba Yaga? + +Hungarian. A female phantom, who is described as hurrying along +the puszta, or steppe, in a mortar, pounding with a pestle at a +tremendous rate, and leaving a long trace on the ground behind her +with her tongue, which is three yards long, and with which she +seizes any men and horses coming in her way, swallowing them down +into her capacious belly. She has several daughters, very +handsome, and with plenty of money; happy the young Mujik who +catches and marries one of them, for they make excellent wives. + +"Many thanks," said I, "for the information you have afforded me: +this is rather poor wine," I observed, as I poured out a glass--"I +suppose you have better wine in Hungary?" + +"Yes, we have better wine in Hungary. First of all there is Tokay, +the most celebrated in the world, though I confess I prefer the +wine of Eger--Tokay is too sweet." + +"Have you ever been at Tokay?" + +"I have," said the Hungarian. + +"What kind of place is Tokay?" + +"A small town situated on the Tyzza, a rapid river descending from +the north; the Tokay Mountain is just behind the town, which stands +on the right bank. The top of the mountain is called Kopacs Teto, +or the bald tip; the hill is so steep that during thunder-storms +pieces frequently fall down upon the roofs of the houses. It was +planted with vines by King Lajos, who ascended the throne in 1342. +The best wine called Tokay is, however, not made at Tokay, but at +Kassau, two leagues farther into the Carpathians, of which Tokay is +a spur. If you wish to drink the best Tokay, you must go to +Vienna, to which place all the prime is sent. For the third time I +ask you, O young man of Horncastle! why does your Government always +send fools to represent it at Vienna?" + +"And for the third time I tell you, O son of Almus! that I cannot +say; perhaps, however, to drink the sweet Tokay wine; fools, you +know, always like sweet things." + +"Good," said the Hungarian; "it must be so, and when I return to +Hungary, I will state to my countrymen your explanation of a +circumstance which has frequently caused them great perplexity. +Oh! the English are a clever people, and have a deep meaning in all +they do. What a vision of deep policy opens itself to my view! +they do not send their fool to Vienna in order to gape at +processions, and to bow and scrape at a base Papist court, but to +drink at the great dinners the celebrated Tokay of Hungary, which +the Hungarians, though they do not drink it, are very proud of, and +by doing so to intimate the sympathy which the English entertain +for their fellow religionists of Hungary. Oh! the English are a +deep people." + + + +CHAPTER XL + + + +The Horncastle Welcome--Tzernebock and Bielebock. + + +The pipe of the Hungarian had, for some time past, exhibited +considerable symptoms of exhaustion, little or no ruttling having +been heard in the tube, and scarcely a particle of smoke, drawn +through the syphon, having been emitted from the lips of the +possessor. He now rose from his seat, and going to a corner of the +room, placed his pipe against the wall, then striding up and down +the room, he cracked his fingers several times, exclaiming, in a +half-musing manner, "Oh, the deep nation, which, in order to +display its sympathy for Hungary, sends its fool to Vienna, to +drink the sweet wine of Tokay!" + +The jockey, having looked for some time at the tall figure with +evident approbation, winked at me with that brilliant eye of his on +which there was no speck, saying, "'Did you ever see a taller +fellow?" + +"Never," said I. + +"Or a finer?" + +"That's another question," said I, "which I am not so willing to +answer; however, as I am fond of truth, and scorn to flatter, I +will take the liberty of saying that I have seen a finer." + +"A finer! where?" said the jockey; whilst the Hungarian, who +appeared to understand what we said, stood still, and looked full +at me. + +"Amongst a strange set of people," said I, "whom, if I were to +name, you would, I dare say, only laugh at me." + +"Who be they?" said the jockey. "Come, don't be ashamed; I have +occasionally kept queerish company myself." + +"The people whom we call gypsies," said I; "whom the Germans call +Zigeuner, and who call themselves Romany chals." + +"Zigeuner!" said the Hungarian; "by Isten! I do know those +people." + +"Romany chals!" said the jockey; "whew! I begin to smell a rat." + +"What do you mean by smelling a rat?" said I. + +"I'll bet a crown," said the jockey, "that you be the young chap +what certain folks call 'the Romany Rye.'" + +"Ah!" said I, "how came you to know that name?" + +"Be not you he?" said the jockey. + +"Why, I certainly have been called by that name." + +"I could have sworn it," said the jockey; then rising from his +chair, he laid his pipe on the table, took a large hand-bell which +stood on the side-board, and going to the door, opened it, and +commenced ringing in a most tremendous manner on the staircase. +The noise presently brought up a waiter, to whom the jockey +vociferated, "Go to your master, and tell him to send immediately +three bottles of champagne, of the pink kind, mind you, which is +twelve guineas a dozen;" the waiter hurried away, and the jockey +resumed his seat and his pipe. I sat in silent astonishment until +the waiter returned with a basket containing the wine, which, with +three long glasses, he placed on the table. The jockey then got +up, and going to a large bow-window at the end of the room, which +looked into a court-yard, peeped out; then saying, "the coast is +clear," he shut down the principal sash which was open for the sake +of the air, and taking up a bottle of champagne, he placed another +in the hands of the Hungarian, to whom he said something in +private. The latter, who seemed to understand him, answered by a +nod. The two then going to the end of the table fronting the +window, and about eight paces from it, stood before it, holding the +bottles by their necks; suddenly the jockey lifted up his arm. +"Surely," said I, "you are not mad enough to fling that bottle +through the window?" "Here's to the Romany Rye; here's to the +sweet master," said the jockey, dashing the bottle through the pane +in so neat a manner that scarcely a particle of glass fell into the +room. + +"Eljen edes csigany ur--eljen gul eray!" said the Hungarian, +swinging round his bottle, and discharging it at the window; but, +either not possessing the jockey's accuracy of aim, or reckless of +the consequences, he flung his bottle so, that it struck against +part of the wooden setting of the panes, breaking along with the +wood and itself three or four panes to pieces. The crash was +horrid, and wine and particles of glass flew back into the room, to +the no small danger of its inmates. "What do you think of that?" +said the jockey; "were you ever so honoured before?" "Honoured!" +said I. "God preserve me in future from such honour;" and I put my +finger to my cheek, which was slightly hurt by a particle of the +glass. "That's the way we of the cofrady honour great men at +Horncastle," said the jockey. "What, you are hurt! never mind; all +the better; your scratch shows that you are the body the compliment +was paid to." "And what are you going to do with the other +bottle?" said I. "Do with it!" said the jockey, "why, drink it, +cosily and comfortably, whilst holding a little quiet talk. The +Romany Rye at Horncastle, what an idea!" + +"And what will the master of the house say to all this damage which +you have caused him!" + +"What will your master say, William?" said the jockey to the +waiter, who had witnessed the singular scene just described without +exhibiting the slightest mark of surprise. William smiled, and +slightly shrugging his shoulders, replied, "Very little, I dare +say, sir; this a'n't the first time your honour has done a thing of +this kind." "Nor will it be the first time that I shall have paid +for it," said the jockey; "well, I shall never have paid for a +certain item in the bill with more pleasure than I shall pay for it +now. Come, William, draw the cork, and let us taste the pink +champagne." + +The waiter drew the cork, and filled the glasses with a pinky +liquor, which bubbled, hissed, and foamed. "How do you like it?" +said the jockey, after I had imitated the example of my companions, +by despatching my portion at a draught. + +"It is wonderful wine," said I; "I have never tasted champagne +before, though I have frequently heard it praised; it more than +answers my expectations; but, I confess, I should not wish to be +obliged to drink it every day." + +"Nor I," said the jockey, "for every-day drinking give me a glass +of old port, or--" + +"Of hard old ale," I interposed, "which, according to my mind, is +better than all the wine in the world." + +"Well said, Romany Rye," said the jockey, "just my own opinion; +now, William, make yourself scarce." + +The waiter withdrew, and I said to the jockey, " How did you become +acquainted with the Romany chals?" + +"I first became acquainted with them," said the jockey, "when I +lived with old Fulcher the basketmaker, who took me up when I was +adrift upon the world; I do not mean the present Fulcher, who is +likewise called old Fulcher, but his father, who has been dead this +many a year; while living with him in the caravan, I frequently met +them in the green lanes, and of latter years I have had occasional +dealings with them in the horse line." + +"And the gypsies have mentioned me to you?" said I. + +"Frequently," said the jockey, "and not only those of these parts; +why, there's scarcely a part of England in which I have not heard +the name of the Romany Rye mentioned by these people. The power +you have over them is wonderful; that is, I should have thought it +wonderful, had they not more than once told me the cause." + +"And what is the cause?" said I, "for I am sure I do not know." + +"The cause is this," said the jockey, "they never heard a bad word +proceed from your mouth, and never knew you do a bad thing." + +"They are a singular people," said I. + +"And what a singular language they have got," said the jockey. + +"Do you know it?" said I. + +"Only a few words," said the jockey, "they were always chary in +teaching me any." + +"They were vary sherry to me too," said the Hungarian, speaking in +broken English; "I only could learn from them half-a-dozen words, +for example, gul eray, which, in the czigany of my country, means +sweet gentleman; or edes ur in my own Magyar." + +"Gudlo Rye, in the Romany of mine, means a sugar'd gentleman," said +I; "then there are gypsies in your country?" + +"Plenty," said the Hungarian, speaking German, "and in Russia and +Turkey too; and wherever they are found, they are alike in their +ways and language. Oh, they are a strange race, and how little +known! I know little of them, but enough to say, that one horse- +load of nonsense has been written about them; there is one Valter +Scott--" + +"Mind what you say about him," said I; "he is our grand authority +in matters of philology and history." + +"A pretty philologist," said the Hungarian, "who makes the gypsies +speak Roth-Welsch, the dialect of thieves; a pretty historian, who +couples together Thor and Tzernebock." + +"Where does he do that?" said I. + +"In his conceited romance of 'Ivanhoe,' he couples Thor and +Tzernebock together, and calls them gods of the heathen Saxons." + +"Well," said I, "Thur or Thor was certainly a god of the heathen +Saxons." + +"True," said the Hungarian; "but why couple him with Tzernebock? +Tzernebock was a word which your Valter had picked up somewhere +without knowing the meaning. Tzernebock was no god of the Saxons, +but one of the gods of the Sclaves, on the southern side of the +Baltic. The Sclaves had two grand gods to whom they sacrificed, +Tzernebock and Bielebock; that is, the black and white gods, who +represented the powers of dark and light. They were overturned by +Waldemar, the Dane, the great enemy of the Sclaves; the account of +whose wars you will find in one fine old book, written by Saxo +Gramaticus, which I read in the library of the college of +Debreczen. The Sclaves, at one time, were masters of all the +southern shore of the Baltic, where their descendants are still to +be found, though they have lost their language, and call themselves +Germans; but the word Zernevitz near Dantzic, still attests that +the Sclavic language was once common in those parts. Zernevitz +means the thing of blackness, as Tzernebock means the god of +blackness. Prussia itself merely means, in Sclavish, Lower Russia. +There is scarcely a race or language in the world more extended +than the Sclavic. On the other side of the Dunau you will find the +Sclaves and their language. Czernavoda is Sclavic, and means black +water; in Turkish, kara su; even as Tzernebock means black god; and +Belgrade, or Belograd, means the white town; even as Bielebock, or +Bielebog, means the white god. Oh! he is one great ignorant, that +Valter. He is going, they say, to write one history about +Napoleon. I do hope that in his history he will couple his Thor +and Tzernebock together. By my God! it would be good diversion +that." + +"Walter Scott appears to be no particular favourite of yours," said +I. + +"He is not," said the Hungarian; "I hate him for his slavish +principles. He wishes to see absolute power restored in this +country, and Popery also--and I hate him because--what do you +think? In one of his novels, published a few months ago, he has +the insolence to insult Hungary in the presence of one of her sons. +He makes his great braggart, Coeur de Lion, fling a Magyar over his +head. Ha! it was well for Richard that he never felt the gripe of +a Hungarian. I wish the braggart could have felt the gripe of me, +who am 'a' magyarok kozt legkissebb,' the least among the Magyars. +I do hate that Scott, and all his vile gang of Lowlanders and +Highlanders. The black corps, the fekete regiment of Matyjas +Hunyadi, was worth all the Scots, high or low, that ever pretended +to be soldiers; and would have sent them all headlong into the +Black Sea, had they dared to confront it on its shores; but why be +angry with an ignorant, who couples together Thor and Tzernebock? +Ha! Ha!" + +"You have read his novels?" said I. + +"Yes, I read them now and then. I do not speak much English, but I +can read it well, and I have read some of his romances, and mean to +read his 'Napoleon,' in the hope of finding Thor and Tzernebock +coupled together in it, as in his high-flying 'Ivanhoe.'" + +"Come," said the jockey, "no more Dutch, whether high or low. I am +tired of it; unless we can have some English, I am off to bed." + +"I should be very glad to hear some English," said I; "especially +from your mouth. Several things which you have mentioned, have +awakened my curiosity. Suppose you give us your history?" + +"My history?" said the jockey. "A rum idea! however, lest +conversation should lag, I'll give it you. First of all, however, +a glass of champagne to each." + +After we had each taken a glass of champagne, the jockey commenced +his history. + + + +CHAPTER XLI + + + +The Jockey's Tale--Thieves' Latin--Liberties with Coin--The Smasher +in Prison--Old Fulcher--Every One has His Gift--Fashion of the +English. + + +"My grandfather was a shorter, and my father was a smasher; the one +was scragg'd, and the other lagg'd." + +I here interrupted the jockey by observing that his discourse was, +for the greater part, unintelligible to me. + +"I do not understand much English," said the Hungarian, who, having +replenished and resumed his mighty pipe, was now smoking away; +"but, by Isten, I believe it is the gibberish which that great +ignorant Valther Scott puts into the mouths of the folks he calls +gypsies." + +"Something like it, I confess," said I, "though this sounds more +genuine than his dialect, which he picked up out of the canting +vocabulary at the end of the 'English Rogue,' a book which, however +despised, was written by a remarkable genius. What do you call the +speech you were using?" said I, addressing myself to the jockey. + +"Latin," said the jockey, very coolly, "that is, that dialect of it +which is used by the light-fingered gentry." + +"He is right," said the Hungarian; "it is what the Germans call +Roth-Welsch: they call it so because there are a great many Latin +words in it, introduced by the priests, who, at the time of the +Reformation, being too lazy to work and too stupid to preach, +joined the bands of thieves and robbers who prowled about the +country. Italy, as you are aware, is called by the Germans +Welschland, or the land of the Welschers; and I may add that +Wallachia derives its name from a colony of Welschers which Trajan +sent there. Welsch and Wallack being one and the same word, and +tantamount to Latin." + +"I dare say you are right," said I; "but why was Italy termed +Welschland?" + +"I do not know," said the Hungarian. + +"Then I think I can tell you," said I; "it was called so because +the original inhabitants were a Cimbric tribe, who were called +Gwyltiad, that is, a race of wild people, living in coverts, who +were of the same blood, and spoke the same language as the present +inhabitants of Wales. Welsh seems merely a modification of +Gwyltiad. Pray continue your history," said I to the jockey, "only +please to do so in a language which we can understand, and first of +all interpret the sentence with which you began it." + +"I told you that my grandfather was a shorter," said the jockey, +"by which is meant a gentleman who shortens or reduces the current +coin of these realms, for which practice he was scragged, that is, +hung by the scrag of the neck. And when I said that my father was +a smasher, I meant one who passes forged notes, thereby doing his +best to smash the Bank of England; by being lagged, I meant he was +laid fast, that is, had a chain put round his leg and then +transported." + +"Your explanations are quite satisfactory," said I; "the three +first words are metaphorical, and the fourth, lagged, is the old +genuine Norse term, lagda, which signifies laid, whether in +durance, or in bed, has nothing to do with the matter. What you +have told me confirms me in an opinion which I have long +entertained, that thieves' Latin is a strange mysterious speech, +formed of metaphorical terms, and words derived from the various +ancient languages. Pray tell me, now, how the gentleman, your +grandfather, contrived to shorten the coin of these realms?" + +"You shall hear," said the jockey; "but I have one thing to beg of +you, which is, that when I have once begun my history you will not +interrupt me with questions, I don't like them, they stops one, and +puts one out of one's tale, and are not wanted; for anything which +I think can't be understood, I should myself explain, without being +asked. My grandfather reduced or shortened the coin of this +country by three processes. By aquafortis, by clipping, and by +filing. Filing and clipping he employed in reducing all sorts of +coin, whether gold or silver; but aquafortis he used merely in +reducing gold coin, whether guineas, jacobuses, or Portugal pieces, +otherwise called moidores, which were at one time as current as +guineas. By laying a guinea in aquafortis for twelve hours, he +could filch from it to the value of ninepence, and by letting it +remain there for twenty-four to the value of eighteenpence, the +aquafortis eating the gold away, and leaving it like a sediment in +the vessel. He was generally satisfied with taking the value of +ninepence from a guinea, of eighteenpence from a jacobus or +moidore, or half-a-crown from a broad Spanish piece, whether he +reduced them by aquafortis, filing, or clipping. From a five- +shilling piece, which is called a bull in Latin because it is round +like a bull's head, he would file or clip to the value of +fivepence, and from lesser coin in proportion. He was connected +with a numerous gang, or set, of people, who had given up their +minds and talents entirely to shortening." + +Here I interrupted the jockey. "How singular," said I, "is the +fall and debasement of words; you talk of a gang, or set, of +shorters; you are, perhaps, not aware that gang and set were, a +thousand years ago, only connected with the great and Divine; they +are ancient Norse words, which may be found in the heroic poems of +the north, and in the Edda, a collection of mythologic and heroic +songs. In these poems we read that such and such a king invaded +Norway with a gang of heroes; or so and so, for example, Erik +Bloodaxe, was admitted to the set of gods; but at present gang and +set are merely applied to the vilest of the vile, and the lowest of +the low,--we say a gang of thieves and shorters, or a set of +authors. How touching is this debasement of words in the course of +time; it puts me in mind of the decay of old houses and names. I +have known a Mortimer who was a hedger and ditcher, a Berners who +was born in a workhouse, and a descendant of the De Burghs, who +bore the falcon, mending old kettles, and making horse and pony +shoes in a dingle." + +"Odd enough," said the jockey; "but you were saying you knew one +Berners--man or woman? I would ask." + +"A woman," said I. + +"What might her Christian name be?" said the jockey. + +"It is not to be mentioned lightly," said I, with a sigh. + +"I shouldn't wonder if it were Isopel," said the jockey with an +arch glance of his one brilliant eye. + +"It was Isopel," said I; "did you know Isopel Berners?" + +"Ay, and have reason to know her," said the jockey, putting his +hand into his left waistcoat pocket, as if to feel for something, +"for she gave me what I believe few men could do--a most confounded +whopping. But now, Mr. Romany Rye, I have again to tell you that I +don't like to be interrupted when I'm speaking, and to add that if +you break in upon me a third time, you and I shall quarrel." + +"Pray proceed with your story," said I; "I will not interrupt you +again." + +"Good!" said the jockey. "Where was I? Oh, with a set of people +who had given up their minds to shortening! Reducing the coin, +though rather a lucrative, was a very dangerous trade. Coin filed +felt rough to the touch; coin clipped could be easily detected by +the eye; and as for coin reduced by aquafortis, it was generally so +discoloured that, unless a great deal of pains was used to polish +it, people were apt to stare at it in a strange manner, and to say, +'What have they been doing to this here gold?' My grandfather, as +I have said before, was connected with a gang of shorters, and +sometimes shortened money, and at other times passed off what had +been shortened by other gentry. + +"Passing off what had been shortened by others was his ruin; for +once, in trying to pass off a broad piece which had been laid in +aquafortis for four-and-twenty hours, and was very black, not +having been properly rectified, he was stopped and searched, and +other reduced coins being found about him, and in his lodgings, he +was committed to prison, tried, and executed. He was offered his +life, provided he would betray his comrades; but he told the big- +wigs, who wanted him to do so, that he would see them farther +first, and died at Tyburn, amidst the cheers of the populace, +leaving my grandmother and father, to whom he had always been a +kind husband and parent--for, setting aside the crime for which he +suffered, he was a moral man; leaving them, I say, to bewail his +irreparable loss. + +"'Tis said that misfortune never comes alone; this is, however, not +always the case. Shortly after my grandfather's misfortune, as my +grandmother and her son were living in great misery in +Spitalfields, her only relation--a brother from whom she had been +estranged some years, on account of her marriage with my +grandfather, who had been in an inferior station to herself--died, +leaving all his property to her and the child. This property +consisted of a farm of about a hundred acres, with its stock, and +some money besides. My grandmother, who knew something of +business, instantly went into the country, where she farmed the +property for her own benefit and that of her son, to whom she gave +an education suitable to a person in his condition, till he was old +enough to manage the farm himself. Shortly after the young man +came of age, my grandmother died, and my father, in about a year, +married the daughter of a farmer, from whom he expected some little +fortune, but who very much deceived him, becoming a bankrupt almost +immediately after the marriage of his daughter, and himself and +family going into the workhouse. + +"My mother, however, made my father an excellent wife; and if my +father in the long run did not do well it was no fault of hers. My +father was not a bad man by nature, he was of an easy, generous +temper, the most unfortunate temper, by the bye, for success in +this life that any person can be possessed of, as those who have it +are almost sure to be made dupes of by the designing. But, though +easy and generous, he was anything but a fool; he had a quick and +witty tongue of his own when he chose to exert it, and woe be to +those who insulted him openly, for there was not a better boxer in +the whole country round. My parents were married several years +before I came into the world, who was their first and only child. +I may be called an unfortunate creature; I was born with this beam +or scale on my left eye, which does not allow me to see with it; +and though I can see tolerably sharply with the other, indeed more +than most people can with both of theirs, it is a great misfortune +not to have two eyes like other people. Moreover, setting aside +the affair of my eye, I had a very ugly countenance; my mouth being +slightly wrung aside, and my complexion swarthy. In fact, I looked +so queer that the gossips and neighbours, when they first saw me, +swore I was a changeling--perhaps it would have been well if I had +never been born; for my poor father, who had been particularly +anxious to have a son, no sooner saw me than he turned away, went +to the neighbouring town, and did not return for two days. I am by +no means certain that I was not the cause of his ruin, for till I +came into the world he was fond of his home, and attended much to +business, but afterwards he went frequently into company, and did +not seem to care much about his affairs: he was, however, a kind +man, and when his wife gave him advice never struck her, nor do I +ever remember that he kicked me when I came in his way, or so much +as cursed my ugly face, though it was easy to see that he didn't +over-like me. When I was six years old I was sent to the village- +school, where I was soon booked for a dunce, because the master +found it impossible to teach me either to read or write. Before I +had been at school two years, however, I had beaten boys four years +older than myself, and could fling a stone with my left hand (for +if I am right-eyed I am left-handed) higher and farther than any +one in the parish. Moreover, no boy could equal me at riding, and +no people ride so well or desperately as boys. I could ride a +donkey--a thing far more difficult to ride than a horse--at full +gallop over hedges and ditches, seated, or rather floating upon his +hinder part,--so, though anything but clever, as this here Romany +Rye would say, I was yet able to do things which few other people +could do. By the time I was ten my father's affairs had got into a +very desperate condition, for he had taken to gambling and horse- +racing, and, being unsuccessful, had sold his stock, mortgaged his +estate, and incurred very serious debts. The upshot was, that +within a little time all he had was seized, himself imprisoned, and +my mother and myself put into a cottage belonging to the parish, +which, being very cold and damp, was the cause of her catching a +fever, which speedily carried her off. I was then bound apprentice +to a farmer, in whose service I underwent much coarse treatment, +cold, and hunger. + +"After lying in prison near two years, my father was liberated by +an Act for the benefit of insolvent debtors; he was then lost sight +of for some time; at last, however, he made his appearance in the +neighbourhood dressed like a gentleman, and seemingly possessed of +plenty of money. He came to see me, took me into a field, and +asked me how I was getting on. I told him I was dreadfully used, +and begged him to take me away with him; he refused, and told me to +be satisfied with my condition, for that he could do nothing for +me. I had a great love for my father, and likewise a great +admiration for him on account of his character as a boxer, the only +character which boys in general regard, so I wished much to be with +him, independently of the dog's life I was leading where I was; I +therefore said if he would not take me with him, I would follow +him; he replied that I must do no such thing, for that if I did, it +would be my ruin. I asked him what he meant, but he made no reply, +only saying that he would go and speak to the farmer. Then taking +me with him, he went to the farmer, and in a very civil manner said +that he understood I had not been very kindly treated by him, but +he hoped that in future I should be used better. The farmer +answered in a surly tone, that I had been only too well treated, +for that I was a worthless young scoundrel; high words ensued, and +the farmer, forgetting the kind of man he had to deal with, checked +him with my grandsire's misfortune, and said he deserved to be +hanged like his father. In a moment my father knocked him down, +and on his getting up, gave him a terrible beating, then taking me +by the hand he hastened away; as we were going down a lane he said +we were now both done for: 'I don't care a straw for that, +father,' said I, 'provided I be with you.' My father took me to +the neighbouring town, and going into the yard of a small inn, he +ordered out a pony and light cart which belonged to him, then +paying his bill, he told me to mount upon the seat, and getting up +drove away like lightning; we drove for at least six hours without +stopping, till we came to a cottage by the side of a heath; we put +the pony and cart into a shed, and went into the cottage, my father +unlocking the door with a key which he took out of his pocket; +there was nobody in the cottage when we arrived, but shortly after +there came a man and a woman, and then some more people, and by ten +o'clock at night there were a dozen of us in the cottage. The +people were companions of my father. My father began talking to +them in Latin, but I did not understand much of the discourse, +though I believe it was about myself, as their eyes were frequently +turned to me. Some objections appeared to be made to what he said; +however, all at last seemed to be settled, and we all sat down to +some food. After that, all the people got up and went away, with +the exception of the woman, who remained with my father and me. +The next day my father also departed, leaving me with the woman, +telling me before he went that she would teach me some things which +it behoved me to know. I remained with her in the cottage upwards +of a week; several of those who had been there coming and going. +The woman, after making me take an oath to be faithful, told me +that the people whom I had seen were a gang who got their +livelihood by passing forged notes, and that my father was a +principal man amongst them, adding, that I must do my best to +assist them. I was a poor ignorant child at that time, and I made +no objection, thinking that whatever my father did must be right; +the woman then gave me some instructions in the smasher's dialect +of the Latin language. I made great progress, because, for the +first time in my life, I paid great attention to my lessons. At +last my father returned, and, after some conversation with the +woman, took me away in his cart. I shall be very short about what +happened to my father and myself during two years. My father did +his best to smash the Bank of England by passing forged notes, and +I did my best to assist him. We attended races and fairs in all +kinds of disguises; my father was a first-rate hand at a disguise, +and could appear of all ages, from twenty to fourscore; he was, +however, grabbed at last. He had said, as I have told you, that he +should be my ruin, but I was the cause of his, and all owing to the +misfortune of this here eye of mine. We came to this very place of +Horncastle, where my father purchased two horses of a young man, +paying for them with three forged notes, purporting to be Bank of +Englanders of fifty pounds each, and got the young man to change +another of the like amount; he at that time appeared as a +respectable dealer, and I as his son, as I really was. + +"As soon as we had got the horses, we conveyed them to one of the +places of call belonging to our gang, of which there were several. +There they were delivered into the hands of our companions, who +speedily sold them in a distant part of the country. The sum which +they fetched--for the gang kept very regular accounts--formed an +important item on the next day of sharing, of which there were +twelve in the year. The young man, whom my father had paid for the +horses with his smashing notes, was soon in trouble about them, and +ran some risk, as I heard, of being executed; but he bore a good +character, told a plain story, and, above all, had friends, and was +admitted to bail; to one of his friends he described my father and +myself. This person happened to be at an inn in Yorkshire, where +my father, disguised as a Quaker, attempted to pass a forged note. +The note was shown to this individual, who pronounced it a forgery, +it being exactly similar to those for which the young man had been +in trouble, and which he had seen. My father, however, being +supposed a respectable man, because he was dressed as a Quaker--the +very reason, by the bye, why anybody who knew aught of the Quakers +would have suspected him to be a rogue--would have been let go, had +I not made my appearance, dressed as his footboy. The friend of +the young man looked at my eye, and seized hold of my father, who +made a desperate resistance, I assisting him, as in duty bound. +Being, however, overpowered by numbers, he bade me by a look, and a +word or two in Latin, to make myself scarce. Though my heart was +fit to break, I obeyed my father, who was speedily committed. I +followed him to the county town in which he was lodged, where +shortly after I saw him tried, convicted, and condemned. I then, +having made friends with the jailor's wife, visited him in his +cell, where I found him very much cast down. He said, that my +mother had appeared to him in a dream, and talked to him about a +resurrection and Christ Jesus; there was a Bible before him, and he +told me the chaplain had just been praying with him. He reproached +himself much, saying, he was afraid he had been my ruin, by +teaching me bad habits. I told him not to say any such thing, for +that I had been the cause of his, owing to the misfortune of my +eye. He begged me to give over all unlawful pursuits, saying, that +if persisted in, they were sure of bringing a person to +destruction. I advised him to try and make his escape, proposing, +that when the turnkey came to let me out, he should knock him down, +and fight his way out, offering to assist him; showing him a small +saw, with which one of our companions, who was in the +neighbourhood, had provided me, and with which he could have cut +through his fetters in five minutes; but he told me he had no wish +to escape, and was quite willing to die. I was rather hard at that +time; I am not very soft now; and I felt rather ashamed of my +father's want of what I called spirit. He was not executed after +all; for the chaplain, who was connected with a great family, stood +his friend, and got his sentence commuted, as they call it, to +transportation; and in order to make the matter easy, he induced my +father to make some valuable disclosures with respect to the +smashers' system. I confess that I would have been hanged before I +would have done so, after having reaped the profit of it; that is, +I think so now, seated comfortably in my inn, with my bottle of +champagne before me. He, however, did not show himself carrion; he +would not betray his companions, who had behaved very handsomely to +him, having given the son of a lord, a great barrister, not a +hundred-pound forged bill, but a hundred hard guineas, to plead his +cause, and another ten, to induce him, after pleading, to put his +hand to his breast, and say, that, upon his honour, he believed the +prisoner at the bar to be an honest and injured man. No; I am glad +to be able to say, that my father did not show himself exactly +carrion, though I could almost have wished he had let himself-- +However, I am here with my bottle of champagne and the Romany Rye, +and he was in his cell, with bread and water and the prison +chaplain. He took an affectionate leave of me before he was sent +away, giving me three out of five guineas, all the money he had +left. He was a kind man, but not exactly fitted to fill my +grandfather's shoes. I afterwards learned that he died of fever, +as he was being carried across the sea. + +"During the 'sizes I had made acquaintance with old Fulcher. I was +in the town on my father's account, and he was there on his son's, +who, having committed a small larceny, was in trouble. Young +Fulcher, however, unlike my father, got off, though he did not give +the son of a lord a hundred guineas to speak for him, and ten more +to pledge his sacred honour for his honesty, but gave Counsellor P- +-- one-and-twenty shillings to defend him, who so frightened the +principal evidence, a plain honest farming-man, that he flatly +contradicted what he had first said, and at last acknowledged +himself to be all the rogues in the world, and, amongst other +things, a perjured villain. Old Fulcher, before he left the town +with his son,--and here it will be well to say that he and his son +left it in a kind of triumph, the base drummer of a militia +regiment, to whom they had given half-a-crown, beating his drum +before them--old Fulcher, I say, asked me to go and visit him, +telling me where, at such a time, I might find him and his caravan +and family; offering, if I thought fit, to teach me basket-making: +so, after my father had been sent off, I went and found up old +Fulcher, and became his apprentice in the basket-making line. I +stayed with him till the time of his death, which happened in about +three months, travelling about with him and his family, and living +in green lanes, where we saw gypsies and trampers, and all kinds of +strange characters. Old Fulcher, besides being an industrious +basket-maker, was an out-and-out thief, as was also his son, and, +indeed, every member of his family. They used to make baskets +during the day, and thieve during a great part of the night. I had +not been with them twelve hours before old Fulcher told me that I +must thieve as well as the rest. I demurred at first, for I +remembered the fate of my father, and what he had told me about +leaving off bad courses, but soon allowed myself to be over- +persuaded; more especially as the first robbery I was asked to do +was a fruit robbery. I was to go with young Fulcher, and steal +some fine Morell cherries, which grew against a wall in a +gentleman's garden; so young Fulcher and I went and stole the +cherries, one half of which we ate, and gave the rest to the old +man, who sold them to a fruiterer ten miles off from the place +where we had stolen them. The next night old Fulcher took me out +with himself. He was a great thief, though in a small way. He +used to say, that they were fools, who did not always manage to +keep the rope below their shoulders, by which he meant, that it was +not advisable to commit a robbery, or do anything which could bring +you to the gallows. He was all for petty larceny, and knew where +to put his hand upon any little thing in England, which it was +possible to steal. I submit it to the better judgment of the +Romany Rye, who I see is a great hand for words and names, whether +he ought not to have been called old Filcher, instead of Fulcher. +I shan't give a regular account of the larcenies he committed +during the short time I knew him, either alone by himself, or with +me and his son. I shall merely relate the last. + +"A melancholy gentleman, who lived a very solitary life, had a +large carp in a shady pond in a meadow close to his house; he was +exceedingly fond of it, and used to feed it with his own hand, the +creature being so tame that it would put its snout out of the water +to be fed when it was whistled to; feeding and looking at his carp +were the only pleasures the poor melancholy gentleman possessed. +Old Fulcher--being in the neighbourhood, and having an order from a +fishmonger for a large fish, which was wanted at a great city +dinner, at which His Majesty was to be present--swore he would +steal the carp, and asked me to go with him. I had heard of the +gentleman's fondness for his creature, and begged him to let it be, +advising him to go and steal some other fish; but old Fulcher +swore, and said he would have the carp, although its master should +hang himself; I told him he might go by himself, but he took his +son and stole the carp, which weighed seventeen pounds. Old +Fulcher got thirty shillings for the carp, which I afterwards heard +was much admired and relished by His Majesty. The master, however, +of the carp, on losing his favourite, became more melancholy than +ever, and in a little time hanged himself. 'What's sport for one, +is death to another,' I once heard at the village-school read out +of a copy-book. + +"This was the last larceny old Fulcher ever committed. He could +keep his neck always out of the noose, but he could not always keep +his leg out of the trap. A few nights after, having removed to a +distance, he went to an osier car in order to steal some osiers for +his basket-making, for he never bought any. I followed a little +way behind. Old Fulcher had frequently stolen osiers out of the +car, whilst in the neighbourhood, but during his absence the +property, of which the car was a part, had been let to a young +gentleman, a great hand for preserving game. Old Fulcher had not +got far into the car before he put his foot into a man-trap. +Hearing old Fulcher shriek, I ran up, and found him in a dreadful +condition. Putting a large stick which I carried into the jaws of +the trap, I contrived to prize them open, and get old Fulcher's leg +out, but the leg was broken. So I ran to the caravan, and told +young Fulcher of what had happened, and he and I helped his father +home. A doctor was sent for, who said that it was necessary to +take the leg off, but old Fulcher, being very much afraid of pain, +said it should not be taken off, and the doctor went away, but +after some days, old Fulcher becoming worse, ordered the doctor to +be sent for, who came and took off his leg, but it was then too +late, mortification had come on, and in a little time old Fulcher +died. + +"Thus perished old Fulcher; he was succeeded in his business by his +son, young Fulcher, who, immediately after the death of his father, +was called old Fulcher, it being our English custom to call +everybody old, as soon as their fathers are buried; young Fulcher-- +I mean he who had been called young, but was now old Fulcher-- +wanted me to go out and commit larcenies with him; but I told him +that I would have nothing more to do with thieving, having seen the +ill effects of it, and that I should leave them in the morning. +Old Fulcher begged me to think better of it, and his mother joined +with him. They offered, if I would stay, to give me Mary Fulcher +as a mort, till she and I were old enough to be regularly married, +she being the daughter of the one, and the sister of the other. I +liked the girl very well, for she had always been civil to me, and +had a fair complexion and nice red hair, both of which I like, +being a bit of a black myself; but I refused, being determined to +see something more of the world than I could hope to do with the +Fulchers, and, moreover, to live honestly, which I could never do +along with them. So the next morning I left them: I was, as I +said before, quite determined upon an honest livelihood, and I soon +found one. He is a great fool who is ever dishonest in England. +Any person who has any natural gift, and everybody has some natural +gift, is sure of finding encouragement in this noble country of +ours, provided he will but exhibit it. I had not walked more than +three miles before I came to a wonderfully high church steeple, +which stood close by the road; I looked at the steeple, and going +to a heap of smooth pebbles which lay by the roadside, I took up +some, and then went into the churchyard, and placing myself just +below the tower, my right foot resting on a ledge, about two foot +from the ground, I, with my left hand--being a left-handed person, +do you see--flung or chucked up a stone, which, lighting on the top +of the steeple, which was at least a hundred and fifty feet high, +did there remain. After repeating this feat two or three times, I +'hulled' up a stone, which went clean over the tower, and then one, +my right foot still on the ledge, which rising at least five yards +above the steeple, did fall down just at my feet. Without knowing +it, I was showing off my gift to others besides myself, doing what, +perhaps, not five men in England could do. Two men, who were +passing by, stopped and looked at my proceedings, and when I had +done flinging came into the churchyard, and, after paying me a +compliment on what they had seen me do, proposed that I should join +company with them; I asked them who they were, and they told me. +The one was Hopping Ned, and the other Biting Giles. Both had +their gifts, by which they got their livelihood; Ned could hop a +hundred yards with any man in England, and Giles could lift up with +his teeth any dresser or kitchen-table in the country, and, +standing erect, hold it dangling in his jaws. There's many a big +oak table and dresser in certain districts of England, which bear +the marks of Giles's teeth; and I make no doubt that, a hundred or +two years hence, there'll be strange stories about those marks, and +that people will point them out as a proof that there were giants +in bygone time, and that many a dentist will moralize on the decays +which human teeth have undergone. + +"They wanted me to go about with them, and exhibit my gift +occasionally, as they did theirs, promising that the money that was +got by the exhibitions should be honestly divided. I consented, +and we set off together, and that evening coming to a village, and +putting up at the ale-house, all the grand folks of the village +being there smoking their pipes, we contrived to introduce the +subject of hopping--the upshot being that Ned hopped against the +school-master for a pound, and beat him hollow; shortly after, +Giles, for a wager, took up the kitchen table in his jaws, though +he had to pay a shilling to the landlady for the marks he left, +whose grandchildren will perhaps get money by exhibiting them. As +for myself, I did nothing that day, but the next, on which my +companions did nothing, I showed off at hulling stones against a +cripple, the crack man for stone-throwing, of a small town, a few +miles farther on. Bets were made to the tune of some pounds; I +contrived to beat the cripple, and just contrived; for to do him +justice I must acknowledge he was a first-rate hand at stones, +though he had a game hip, and went sideways; his head, when he +walked--if his movements could be called walking--not being above +three feet above the ground. So we travelled, I and my companions, +showing off our gifts, Giles and I occasionally for a gathering, +but Ned never hopping, unless against somebody for a wager. We +lived honestly and comfortably, making no little money by our +natural endowments, and were known over a great part of England as +'Hopping Ned,' 'Biting Giles,' and 'Hull over the Head Jack,' which +was my name, it being the blackguard fashion of the English, do you +see, to--" + +Here I interrupted the jockey. "You may call it a blackguard +fashion," said I, "and I dare say it is, or it would scarcely be +English; but it is an immensely ancient one, and is handed down to +us from our northern ancestry, especially the Danes, who were in +the habit of giving people surnames, or rather nicknames, from some +quality of body or mind, but generally from some disadvantageous +peculiarity of feature; for there is no denying that the English, +Norse, or whatever we may please to call them, are an envious, +depreciatory set of people, who not only give their poor comrades +contemptuous names, but their great people also. They didn't call +you the matchless Hurler, because, by doing so, they would have +paid you a compliment, but Hull over the Head Jack, as much as to +say that after all you were a scrub; so, in ancient time, instead +of calling Regner the great conqueror, the Nation Tamer, they +surnamed him Lodbrog, which signifies Rough or Hairy Breeks--lod or +loddin signifying rough or hairy; and instead of complimenting +Halgerdr, the wife of Gunnar of Hlitharend, the great champion of +Iceland, upon her majestic presence, by calling her Halgerdr, the +stately or tall; what must they do but term her Ha-brokr, or +Highbreeks, it being the fashion in old times for Northern ladies +to wear breeks, or breeches, which English ladies of the present +day never think of doing; and just, as of old, they called Halgerdr +Long-breeks, so this very day a fellow of Horncastle called, in my +hearing, our noble-looking Hungarian friend here, Long-stockings. +Oh, I could give you a hundred instances, both ancient and modern, +of this unseemly propensity of our illustrious race, though I will +only trouble you with a few more ancient ones; they not only +nicknamed Regner, but his sons also, who were all kings, and +distinguished men: one, whose name was Biorn, they nicknamed +Ironsides; another, Sigurd, Snake in the Eye; another, White Sark, +or White Shirt--I wonder they did not call him Dirty Shirt; and +Ivarr, another, who was king of Northumberland, they called +Bienlausi, or the Legless, because he was spindle-shanked, had no +sap in his bones, and consequently no children. He was a great +king, it is true, and very wise, nevertheless his blackguard +countrymen, always averse, as their descendants are, to give credit +to anybody, for any valuable quality or possession, must needs lay +hold, do you see--" + +But before I could say any more, the jockey, having laid down his +pipe, rose, and having taken off his coat, advanced towards me. + + + +CHAPTER XLII + + + +A Short-tempered Person--Gravitation--The Best Endowment--Mary +Fulcher--Fair Dealing--Horse-witchery--Darius and his Groom--The +Jockey's Tricks--The Two Characters--The Jockey's Song. + + +The jockey, having taken off his coat and advanced towards me, as I +have stated in the preceding chapter, exclaimed, in an angry tone, +"This is the third time you have interrupted me in my tale, Mr. +Rye; I passed over the two first times with a simple warning, but +you will now please to get up and give me the satisfaction of a +man." + +"I am really sorry," said I, "if I have given you offence, but you +were talking of our English habits of bestowing nicknames, and I +could not refrain from giving a few examples tending to prove what +a very ancient habit it is." + +"But you interrupted me," said the jockey, "and put me out of my +tale, which you had no right to do; and as for your examples, how +do you know that I wasn't going to give some as old or older than +yourn? Now stand up, and I'll make an example of you." + +"Well," said I, "I confess it was wrong in me to interrupt you, and +I ask your pardon." + +"That won't do," said the jockey, "asking pardon won't do." + +"Oh," said I, getting up, "if asking pardon does not satisfy you, +you are a different man from what I considered you." + +But here the Hungarian, also getting up, interposed his tall form +and pipe between us, saying in English, scarcely intelligible, "Let +there be no dispute! As for myself, I am very much obliged to the +young man of Horncastle for his interruption, though he has told me +that one of his dirty townsmen called me 'Long-stocking.' By +Isten! there is more learning in what he has just said than in all +the verdammt English histories of Thor and Tzernebock I ever read." + +"I care nothing for his learning," said the jockey. "I consider +myself as good a man as he, for all his learning; so stand out of +the way, Mr. Sixfooteleven, or--" + +"I shall do no such thing," said the Hungarian. "I wonder you are +not ashamed of yourself. You ask a young man to drink champagne +with you, you make him dronk, he interrupt you with very good +sense; he ask your pardon, yet you not--" + +"Well," said the jockey, "I am satisfied. I am rather a short- +tempered person, but I bear no malice. He is, as you say, drinking +my wine, and has perhaps taken a drop too much, not being used to +such high liquor; but one doesn't like to be put out of one's tale, +more especially when one was about to moralize, do you see, +oneself, and to show off what little learning one has. However, I +bears no malice. Here is a hand to each of you; we'll take another +glass each, and think no more about it." + +The jockey having shaken both of our hands, and filled our glasses +and his own with what champagne remained in the bottle, put on his +coat, sat down, and resumed his pipe and story. + +"Where was I? Oh, roaming about the country with Hopping Ned and +Biting Giles. Those were happy days, and a merry and prosperous +life we led. However, nothing continues under the sun in the same +state in which it begins, and our firm was soon destined to undergo +a change. We came to a village where there was a very high church +steeple, and in a little time my comrades induced a crowd of people +to go and see me display my gift by flinging stones above the heads +of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, who stood at the four corners on +the top, carved in stone. The parson, seeing the crowd, came +waddling out of his rectory to see what was going on. After I had +flung up the stones, letting them fall just where I liked--and one, +I remember, fell on the head of Mark, where I dare say it remains +to the present day--the parson, who was one of the description of +people called philosophers, held up his hand, and asked me to let +the next stone I flung up fall upon it. He wished, do you see, to +know with what weight the stone would fall down, and talked +something about gravitation--a word which I could never understand +to the present day, save that it turned out a grave matter to me. +I, like a silly fellow myself, must needs consent, and, flinging +the stone up to a vast height, contrived so that it fell into the +parson's hand, which it cut dreadfully. The parson flew into a +great rage, more particularly as everybody laughed at him, and, +being a magistrate, ordered his clerk, who was likewise constable, +to conduct me to prison as a rogue and vagabond, telling my +comrades that if they did not take themselves off, he would serve +them in the same manner. So Ned hopped off, and Giles ran after +him, without making any gathering, and I was led to Bridewell, my +mittimus following at the end of a week, the parson's hand not +permitting him to write before that time. In the Bridewell I +remained a month, when, being dismissed, I went in quest of my +companions, whom, after some time, I found up, but they refused to +keep my company any longer; telling me that I was a dangerous +character, likely to bring them more trouble than profit; they had, +moreover, filled up my place. Going into a cottage to ask for a +drink of water, they saw a country fellow making faces to amuse his +children; the faces were so wonderful that Hopping Ned and Biting +Giles at once proposed taking him into partnership, and the man-- +who was a fellow not very fond of work--after a little entreaty, +went away with them. I saw him exhibit his gift, and couldn't +blame the others for preferring him to me; he was a proper ugly +fellow at all times, but when he made faces his countenance was +like nothing human. He was called Ugly Moses. I was so amazed at +his faces, that though poor myself I gave him sixpence, which I +have never grudged to this day, for I never saw anything like them. +The firm throve wonderfully after he had been admitted into it. He +died some little time ago, keeper of a public-house, which he had +been enabled to take from the profits of his faces. A son of his, +one of the children he was making faces to when my comrades entered +his door, is at present a barrister, and a very rising one. He has +his gift--he has not, it is true, the gift of the gab, but he has +something better, he was born with a grin on his face, a quiet +grin; he would not have done to grin through a collar like his +father, and would never have been taken up by Hopping Ned and +Biting Giles, but that grin of his caused him to be noticed by a +much greater person than either; an attorney observing it took a +liking to the lad, and prophesied that he would some day be heard +of in the world; and in order to give him the first lift, took him +into his office, at first to light fires and do such kind of work, +and after a little time taught him to write, then promoted him to a +desk, articled him afterwards, and being unmarried, and without +children, left him what he had when he died. The young fellow, +after practising at the law some time, went to the bar, where, in a +few years, helped on by his grin, for he had nothing else to +recommend him, he became, as I said before, a rising barrister. He +comes our circuit, and I occasionally employ him, when I am obliged +to go to law about such a thing as an unsound horse. He generally +brings me through--or rather that grin of his does--and yet I don't +like the fellow, confound him, but I'm an oddity--no, the one I +like, and whom I generally employ, is a fellow quite different, a +bluff sturdy dog, with no grin on his face, but with a look that +seems to say I am an honest man, and what cares I for any one? And +an honest man he is, and something more. I have known coves with a +better gift of the gab, though not many, but he always speaks to +the purpose, and understands law thoroughly; and that's not all. +When at college, for he has been at college, he carried off +everything before him as a Latiner, and was first-rate at a game +they call matthew mattocks. I don't exactly know what it is, but I +have heard that he who is first-rate at matthew mattocks is thought +more of than if he were first-rate Latiner. + +"Well, the chap that I'm talking about, not only came out first- +rate Latiner, but first-rate at matthew mattocks too; doing, in +fact, as I am told by those who knows, for I was never at college +myself, what no one had ever done before. Well, he makes his +appearance at our circuit, does very well, of course, but he has a +somewhat high front, as becomes an honest man, and one who has beat +every one at Latin and matthew mattocks; and one who can speak +first-rate law and sense;--but see now, the cove with the grin, who +has like myself never been at college; knows nothing of Latin, or +matthew mattocks, and has no particular gift of the gab, has two +briefs for his one, and I suppose very properly, for that grin of +his curries favour with the juries; and mark me, that grin of his +will enable him to beat the other in the long run. We all know +what all barrister coves looks forward to--a seat on the hop sack. +Well, I'll bet a bull to fivepence, that the grinner gets upon it, +and the snarler doesn't; at any rate, that he gets there first. I +calls my cove--for he is my cove--a snarler; because your first- +rates at matthew mattocks are called snarlers, and for no other +reason; for the chap, though with a high front, is a good chap, and +once drank a glass of ale with me, after buying an animal out of my +stable. I have often thought it a pity he wasn't born with a grin +on his face like the son of Ugly Moses. It is true he would +scarcely then have been an out and outer at Latin and matthew +mattocks, but what need of either to a chap born with a grin? Talk +of being born with a silver spoon in one's mouth! give me a cove +born with a grin on his face--a much better endowment. + +"I will now shorten my history as much as I can, for we have talked +as much as folks do during a whole night in the Commons' House, +though, of course, not with so much learning, or so much to the +purpose, because--why? They are in the House of Commons, and we in +a public room of an inn at Horncastle. The goodness of the ale, do +ye see, never depending on what it is made of, oh, no! but on the +fashion and appearance of the jug in which it is served up. After +being turned out of the firm, I got my living in two or three +honest ways, which I shall not trouble you with describing. I did +not like any of them, however, as they did not exactly suit my +humour; at last I found one which did. One Saturday afternoon, I +chanced to be in the cattle-market of a place about eighty miles +from here; there I won the favour of an old gentleman who sold +dickeys. He had a very shabby squad of animals, without soul or +spirit; nobody would buy them, till I leaped upon their hinder +ends, and by merely wriggling in a particular manner, made them +caper and bound so to people's liking, that in a few hours every +one of them was sold at very sufficient prices. The old gentleman +was so pleased with my skill, that he took me home with him, and in +a very little time into partnership. It's a good thing to have a +gift, but yet better to have two. I might have got a very decent +livelihood by throwing stones, but I much question whether I should +ever have attained to the position in society which I now occupy, +but for my knowledge of animals. I lived very comfortably with the +old gentleman till he died, which he did in about a fortnight after +he had laid his old lady in the ground. Having no children, he +left me what should remain after he had been buried decently, and +the remainder was six dickeys and thirty shillings in silver. I +remained in the dickey trade ten years, during which time I saved a +hundred pounds. I then embarked in the horse line. One day, being +in the--market on a Saturday, I saw Mary Fulcher with a halter +round her neck, led about by a man, who offered to sell her for +eighteen-pence. I took out the money forthwith and bought her; the +man was her husband, a basket-maker, with whom she had lived +several years without having any children; he was a drunken, +quarrel-some fellow, and having had a dispute with her the day +before, he determined to get rid of her, by putting a halter round +her neck and leading her to the cattle-market, as if she were a +mare, which he had, it seems, a right to do;--all women being +considered mares by old English law, and, indeed, still called +mares in certain counties, where genuine old English is still +preserved. That same afternoon, the man who had been her husband, +having got drunk in a public-house, with the money which he had +received for her, quarrelled with another man, and receiving a blow +under the ear, fell upon the floor, and died of artiflex; and in +less than three weeks I was married to Mary Fulcher, by virtue of +regular bans. I am told she was legally my property by virtue of +my having bought her with a halter round her neck; but, to tell you +the truth, I think everybody should live by his trade, and I didn't +wish to act shabbily towards our parson, who is a good fellow, and +has certainly a right to his fees. A better wife than Mary +Fulcher--I mean Mary Dale--no one ever had; she has borne me +several children, and has at all times shown a willingness to +oblige me, and to be my faithful wife. Amongst other things, I +begged her to have done with her family, and I believe she has +never spoken to them since. + +"I have thriven very well in business, and my name is up as being a +person who can be depended on, when folks treats me handsomely. I +always make a point when a gentleman comes to me, and says, 'Mr. +Dale,' or 'John,' for I have no objection to be called John by a +gentleman--'I wants a good horse, and am ready to pay a good +price'--I always makes a point, I say, to furnish him with an +animal worth the money; but when I sees a fellow, whether he calls +himself gentleman or not, wishing to circumvent me, what does I do? +I doesn't quarrel with him; not I; but, letting him imagine he is +taking me in, I contrives to sell him a screw for thirty pounds, +not worth thirty shillings. All honest respectable people have at +present great confidence in me, and frequently commissions me to +buy them horses at great fairs like this. + +"This short young gentleman was recommended to me by a great landed +proprietor, to whom he bore letters of recommendation from some +great prince in his own country, who had a long time ago been +entertained at the house of the landed proprietor, and the +consequence is, that I brings young six foot six to Horncastle, and +purchases for him the horse of the Romany Rye. I don't do these +kind things for nothing, it is true; that can't be expected; for +every one must live by his trade; but, as I said before, when I am +treated handsomely, I treat folks so. Honesty, I have discovered, +as perhaps some other people have, is by far the best policy; +though, as I also said before, when I'm along with thieves, I can +beat them at their own game. If I am obliged to do it, I can pass +off the veriest screw as a flying drummedary, for even when I was a +child I had found out by various means what may be done with +animals. I wish now to ask a civil question, Mr. Romany Rye. +Certain folks have told me that you are a horse witch; are you one, +or are you not?" + +"I, like yourself," said I, "know, to a certain extent, what may be +done with animals." + +"Then how would you, Mr. Romany Rye, pass off the veriest screw in +the world for a flying drummedary?" + +"By putting a small live eel down his throat; as long as the eel +remained in his stomach, the horse would appear brisk and lively in +a surprising degree." + +"And how would you contrive to make a regular kicker and biter +appear so tame and gentle, that any respectable fat old gentleman +of sixty, who wanted an easy goer, would be glad to purchase him +for fifty pounds?" + +"By pouring down his throat four pints of generous old ale, which +would make him so happy and comfortable, that he would not have the +heart to kick or bite anybody, for a season at least." + +"And where did you learn all this?" said the jockey. + +"I have read about the eel in an old English book, and about the +making drunk in a Spanish novel, and, singularly enough, I was told +the same things by a wild blacksmith in Ireland. Now tell me, do +you bewitch horses in this way?" + +"I?" said the jockey; "mercy upon us! I wouldn't do such things +for a hatful of money. No, no, preserve me from live eels and +hocussing! And now let me ask you, how would you spirit a horse +out of a field?" + +"How would I spirit a horse out of a field?" + +"Yes; supposing you were down in the world, and had determined on +taking up the horse-stealing line of business." + +"Why, I should-- But I tell you what, friend, I see you are trying +to pump me, and I tell you plainly that I will hear something from +you with respect to your art, before I tell you anything more. Now +how would you whisper a horse out of a field, provided you were +down in the world, and so forth?" + +"Ah, ah, I see you are up to a game, Mr. Romany: however, I am a +gentleman in mind, if not by birth, and I scorn to do the +unhandsome thing to anybody who has dealt fairly towards me. Now +you told me something I didn't know, and I'll tell you something +which perhaps you do know. I whispers a horse out of a field in +this way: I have a mare in my stable; well, in the early season of +the year I goes into my stable--Well, I puts the sponge into a +small bottle which I keeps corked. I takes my bottle in my hand, +and goes into a field, suppose by night, where there is a very fine +stag horse. I manage with great difficulty to get within ten yards +of the horse, who stands staring at me just ready to run away. I +then uncorks my bottle, presses my fore-finger to the sponge, and +holds it out to the horse, the horse gives a sniff, then a start, +and comes nearer. I corks up my bottle and puts it into my pocket. +My business is done, for the next two hours the horse would follow +me anywhere--the difficulty, indeed, would be to get rid of him. +Now is that your way of doing business?" + +"My way of doing business? Mercy upon us! I wouldn't steal a +horse in that way, or, indeed, in any way, for all the money in the +world: however, let me tell you, for your comfort, that a trick +somewhat similar is described in the history of Herodotus." + +"In the history of Herod's ass!" said the jockey; "well, if I did +write a book, it should be about something more genteel than a +dickey." + +"I did not say Herod's ass," said I, "but Herodotus, a very genteel +writer, I assure you, who wrote a history about very genteel +people, in a language no less genteel than Greek, more than two +thousand years ago. There was a dispute as to who should be king +amongst certain imperious chieftains. At last they agreed to obey +him whose horse should neigh first on a certain day, in front of +the royal palace, before the rising of the sun; for you must know +that they did not worship the person who made the sun as we do, but +the sun itself. So one of these chieftains, talking over the +matter to his groom, and saying he wondered who would be king, the +fellow said, 'Why you, master, or I don't know much about horses.' +So the day before the day of trial, what does the groom do, but +take his master's horse before the palace and introduce him to a +mare in the stable, and then lead him forth again. Well, early the +next day all the chieftains on their horses appeared in front of +the palace before the dawn of day. Not a horse neighed but one, +and that was the horse of him who had consulted with his groom, +who, thinking of the animal within the stable, gave such a neigh +that all the buildings rang. His rider was forthwith elected king, +and a brave king he was. So this shows what seemingly wonderful +things may be brought about by a little preparation." + +"It doth," said the jockey; "what was the chap's name?" + +"His name--his name--Darius Hystaspes." + +"And the groom's?" + +"I don't know." + +"And he made a good king?" + +"First-rate." + +"Only think! well, if he made a good king, what a wonderful king +the groom would have made, through whose knowledge of 'orses he was +put on the throne. And now another question, Mr. Romany Rye, have +you particular words which have power to soothe or aggravate +horses?" + +"You should ask me," said I, "whether I have horses that can be +aggravated or soothed by particular words. No words have any +particular power over horses or other animals who have never heard +them before--how, should they? But certain animals connect ideas +of misery or enjoyment with particular words which they are +acquainted with. I'll give you an example. I knew a cob in +Ireland that could be driven to a state of kicking madness by a +particular word, used by a particular person, in a particular tone; +but that word was connected with a very painful operation which had +been performed upon him by that individual, who had frequently +employed it at a certain period whilst the animal had been under +his treatment. The same cob could be soothed in a moment by +another word, used by the same individual in a very different kind +of tone; the word was deaghblasda, or sweet tasted. Some time +after the operation, whilst the cob was yet under his hands, the +fellow--who was what the Irish call a fairy smith--had done all he +could to soothe the creature, and had at last succeeded by giving +it gingerbread-buttons, of which the cob became passionately fond. +Invariably, however, before giving it a button, he said, +'Deaghblasda,' with which word the cob by degrees associated an +idea of unmixed enjoyment: so if he could rouse the cob to madness +by the word which recalled the torture to its remembrance, he could +as easily soothe it by the other word, which the cob knew would be +instantly followed by the button, which the smith never failed to +give him after using the word deaghblasda." + +"There is nothing wonderful to be done," said the jockey, "without +a good deal of preparation, as I know myself. Folks stare and +wonder at certain things which they would only laugh at if they +knew how they were done; and to prove what I say is true, I will +give you one or two examples. Can either of you lend me a +handkerchief? That won't do," said he, as I presented him with a +silk one. "I wish for a delicate white handkerchief. That's just +the kind of thing," said he, as the Hungarian offered him a fine +white cambric handkerchief, beautifully worked with gold at the +hems; "now you shall see me set this handkerchief on fire." "Don't +let him do so by any means," said the Hungarian, speaking to me in +German, "it is the gift of a lady whom I highly admire, and I would +not have it burnt for the world." "He has no occasion to be under +any apprehension," said the jockey, after I had interpreted to him +what the Hungarian had said, "I will restore it to him uninjured, +or my name is not Jack Dale." Then sticking the handkerchief +carelessly into the left side of his bosom, he took the candle, +which by this time had burnt very low, and holding his head back, +he applied the flame to the handkerchief, which instantly seemed to +catch fire. "What do you think of that?" said he to the Hungarian. +"Why, that you have ruined me," said the latter. "No harm done, I +assure you," said the jockey, who presently, clapping his hand on +his bosom, extinguished the fire, and returned the handkerchief to +the Hungarian, asking him if it was burnt. "I see no burn upon +it," said the Hungarian; "but in the name of Gott, how could you +set it on fire without burning it?" "I never set it on fire at +all," said the jockey; "I set this on fire," showing us a piece of +half-burnt calico. "I placed this calico above it, and lighted not +the handkerchief, but the rag. Now I will show you something else. +I have a magic shilling in my pocket, which I can make run up along +my arm. But, first of all, I would gladly know whether either of +you can do the like." Thereupon the Hungarian and myself, putting +our hands into our pockets, took out shillings, and endeavoured to +make them run up our arms, but utterly failed; both shillings, +after we had made two or three attempts, falling to the ground. +"What noncomposses you both are," said the jockey; and placing a +shilling on the end of the fingers of his right hand he made +strange faces to it, drawing back his head, whereupon the shilling +instantly began to run up his arm, occasionally hopping and jumping +as if it were bewitched, always endeavouring to make towards the +head of the jockey. + +"How do I do that?" said he, addressing himself to me. "I really +do not know," said I, "unless it is by the motion of your arm." +"The motion of my nonsense," said the jockey, and, making a +dreadful grimace, the shilling hopped upon his knee, and began to +run up his thigh and to climb up his breast. "How is that done?" +said he again. "By witchcraft, I suppose," said I. "There you are +right," said the jockey; "by the witchcraft of one of Miss Berners' +hairs; the end of one of her long hairs is tied to that shilling by +means of a hole in it, and the other end goes round my neck by +means of a loop; so that, when I draw back my head, the shilling +follows it. I suppose you wish to know how I got the hair," said +he, grinning at me. "I will tell you. I once, in the course of my +ridings, saw Miss Berners beneath a hedge, combing out her long +hair, and, being rather a modest kind of person, what must I do but +get off my horse, tie him to a gate, go up to her, and endeavour to +enter into conversation with her. After giving her the sele of the +day, and complimenting her on her hair, I asked her to give me one +of the threads; whereupon she gave me such a look, and, calling me +fellow, told me to take myself off. 'I must have a hair first,' +said I, making a snatch at one. I believe I hurt her; but, whether +I did or not, up she started, and, though her hair was unbound, +gave me the only drubbing I ever had in my life. Lor! how, with +her right hand, she fibbed me whilst she held me round the neck +with her left arm; I was soon glad to beg her pardon on my knees, +which she gave me in a moment, when she saw me in that condition, +being the most placable creature in the world, and not only her +pardon, but one of the hairs which I longed for, which I put +through a shilling, with which I have on evenings after fairs, like +this, frequently worked what seemed to those who looked on +downright witchcraft, but which is nothing more than pleasant +deception. And now, Mr. Romany Rye, to testify my regard for you, +I give you the shilling and the hair. I think you have a kind of +respect for Miss Berners; but whether you have or not, keep them as +long as you can, and whenever you look at them think of the finest +woman in England, and of John Dale, the jockey of Horncastle. I +believe I have told you my history," said he--"no, not quite; there +is one circumstance I had passed over. I told you that I have +thriven very well in business, and so I have, upon the whole; at +any rate, I find myself comfortably off now. I have horses, money, +and owe nobody a groat; at any rate, nothing but what I could pay +to-morrow. Yet I have had my dreary day, ay, after I had obtained +what I call a station in the world. All of a sudden, about five +years ago, everything seemed to go wrong with me--horses became +sick or died, people who owed me money broke or ran away, my house +caught fire, in fact, everything went against me; and not from any +mismanagement of my own. I looked round for help, but--what do you +think?--nobody would help me. Somehow or other it had got abroad +that I was in difficulties, and everybody seemed disposed to avoid +me, as if I had got the plague. Those who were always offering me +help when I wanted none, now, when they thought me in trouble, +talked of arresting me. Yes; two particular friends of mine, who +had always been offering me their purses when my own was stuffed +full, now talked of arresting me, though I only owed the scoundrels +a hundred pounds each; and they would have done so, provided I had +not paid them what I owed them; and how did I do that? Why, I was +able to do it because I found a friend--and who was that friend? +Why, a man who has since been hung, of whom everybody has heard, +and of whom everybody for the next hundred years will occasionally +talk. + +"One day, whilst in trouble, I was visited by a person I had +occasionally met at sporting-dinners. He came to look after a +Suffolk Punch, the best horse, by the bye, that anybody can +purchase to drive, it being the only animal of the horse kind in +England that will pull twice at a dead weight. I told him that I +had none at that time that I could recommend; in fact, that every +horse in my stable was sick. He then invited me to dine with him +at an inn close by, and I was glad to go with him, in the hope of +getting rid of unpleasant thoughts. After dinner, during which he +talked nothing but slang, observing I looked very melancholy, he +asked me what was the matter with me, and I, my heart being opened +by the wine he had made me drink, told him my circumstances without +reserve. With an oath or two for not having treated him at first +like a friend, he said he would soon set me all right; and pulling +out two hundred pounds, told me to pay him when I could. I felt as +I never felt before; however, I took his notes, paid my sneaks, and +in less than three months was right again, and had returned him his +money. On paying it to him, I said that I had now a lunch which +would just suit him, saying that I would give it to him--a free +gift--for nothing. He swore at me;--telling me to keep my Punch, +for that he was suited already. I begged him to tell me how I +could requite him for his kindness, whereupon, with the most +dreadful oath I ever heard, he bade me come and see him hanged when +his time was come. I wrung his hand, and told him I would, and I +kept my word. The night before the day he was hanged at H---, I +harnessed a Suffolk Punch to my light gig, the same Punch which I +had offered to him, which I have ever since kept, and which brought +me and this short young man to Horncastle, and in eleven hours I +drove that Punch one hundred and ten miles. I arrived at H--- just +in the nick of time. There was the ugly jail--the scaffold--and +there upon it stood the only friend I ever had in the world. +Driving my Punch, which was all in a foam, into the midst of the +crowd, which made way for me as if it knew what I came for, I stood +up in my gig, took off my hat, and shouted, 'God Almighty bless +you, Jack!' The dying man turned his pale grim face towards me-- +for his face was always somewhat grim, do you see--nodded and said, +or I thought I heard him say, 'All right, old chap.' The next +moment--my eyes water. He had a high heart, got into a scrape +whilst in the marines, lost his half-pay, took to the turf, ring, +gambling, and at last cut the throat of a villain who had robbed +him of nearly all he had. But he had good qualities, and I know +for certain that he never did half the bad things laid to his +charge; for example, he never bribed Tom Oliver to fight cross, as +it was said he did on the day of the awful thunder-storm. Ned +Flatnose fairly beat Tom Oliver, for though Ned was not what's +called a good fighter, he had a particular blow, which if he could +put in he was sure to win. His right shoulder, do you see, was two +inches farther back than it ought to have been, and consequently +his right fist generally fell short; but if he could swing himself +round, and put in a blow with that right arm, he could kill or take +away the senses of anybody in the world. It was by putting in that +blow in his second fight with Spring that he beat noble Tom. +Spring beat him like a sack in the first battle, but in the second +Ned Painter--for that was his real name--contrived to put in his +blow, and took the senses out of Spring; and in like manner he took +the senses out of Tom Oliver. + +"Well, some are born to be hanged, and some are not; and many of +those who are not hanged are much worse than those who are. Jack, +with many a good quality, is hanged, whilst that fellow of a lord, +who wanted to get the horse from you at about two-thirds of his +value, without a single good quality in the world, is not hanged, +and probably will remain so. You ask the reason why, perhaps. +I'll tell you; the lack of a certain quality called courage, which +Jack possessed in abundance, will preserve him; from the love which +he bears his own neck he will do nothing which can bring him to the +gallows. In my rough way I'll draw their characters from their +childhood, and then ask whether Jack was not the best character of +the two. Jack was a rough, audacious boy, fond of fighting, going +a birds'-nesting, but I never heard he did anything particularly +cruel save once, I believe, tying a canister to a butcher's dog's +tail; whilst this fellow of a lord was by nature a savage beast, +and when a boy would in winter pluck poor fowls naked, and set them +running on the ice and in the snow, and was particularly fond of +burning cats alive in the fire. Jack, when a lad, gets a +commission on board a ship as an officer of horse marines, and in +two or three engagements behaves quite up to the mark--at least of +a marine; the marines having no particular character for courage, +you know--never having run to the guns and fired them like madmen +after the blue jackets had had more than enough. Oh, dear me, no! +My lord gets into the valorous British army, where cowardice--Oh, +dear me!--is a thing almost entirely unknown; and being on the +field of Waterloo the day before the battle, falls off his horse, +and, pretending to be hurt in the back, gets himself put on the +sick list--a pretty excuse--hurting his back--for not being present +at such a fight. Old Benbow, after part of both his legs had been +shot away in a sea-fight, made the carpenter make him a cradle to +hold his bloody stumps, and continued on deck, cheering his men +till he died. Jack returns home, and gets into trouble, and having +nothing to subsist by but his wits, gets his living by the ring and +the turf, doing many an odd kind of thing, I dare say, but not half +those laid to his charge. My lord does much the same without the +excuse for doing so which Jack had, for he had plenty of means, is +a leg, and a black, only in a more polished way, and with more +cunning, and I may say success, having done many a rascally thing +never laid to his charge. Jack at last cuts the throat of a +villain who had cheated him of all he had in the world, and who, I +am told, was in many points the counterpart of this screw and white +feather, is taken up, tried, and executed; and certainly taking +away a man's life is a dreadful thing; but is there nothing as bad? +Whitefeather will cut no person's throat--I will not say who has +cheated him, for, being a cheat himself, he will take good care +that nobody cheats him, but he'll do something quite as bad; out of +envy to a person who never injured him, and whom he hates for being +more clever and respected than himself, he will do all he possibly +can, by backbiting and every unfair means, to do that person a +mortal injury. But Jack is hanged, and my lord it not. Is that +right? My wife, Mary Fulcher--I beg her pardon, Mary Dale--who is +a Methodist, and has heard the mighty preacher, Peter Williams, +says some people are preserved from hanging by the grace of God. +With her I differs, and says it is from want of courage. This +Whitefeather, with one particle of Jack's courage, and with one +tithe of his good qualities, would have been hanged long ago, for +he has ten times Jack's malignity. Jack was hanged because, along +with his bad qualities, he had courage and generosity; this fellow +is not, because with all Jack's bad qualities, and many more, +amongst which is cunning, he has neither courage nor generosity. +Think of a fellow like that putting down two hundred pounds to +relieve a distressed fellow-creature; why he would rob, but for the +law and the fear it fills him with, a workhouse child of its +breakfast, as the saying is--and has been heard to say that he +would not trust his own father for sixpence, and he can't imagine +why such a thing as credit should be ever given. I never heard a +person give him a good word--stay, stay, yes! I once heard an old +parson, to whom I sold a Punch, say that he had the art of +receiving company gracefully and dismissing them without +refreshment. I don't wish to be too hard with him, and so let him +make the most of that compliment. Well! he manages to get on, +whilst Jack is hanged; not quite enviably, however; he has had his +rubs, and pretty hard ones--everybody knows he slunk from Waterloo, +and occasionally checks him with so doing; whilst he has been +rejected by a woman--what a mortification to the low pride of which +the scoundrel has plenty! There's a song about both circumstances, +which may, perhaps, ring in his ears on a dying bed. It's a funny +kind of song, set to the old tune of the Lord-Lieutenant or Deputy, +and with it I will conclude my discourse, for I really think it's +past one." The jockey then, with a very tolerable voice, sung the +following song:- + + +THE JOCKEY'S SONG. + +Now list to a ditty both funny and true! - +Merrily moves the dance along - +A ditty that tells of a coward and screw, +My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young. + +Sir Plume, though not liking a bullet at all, - +Merrily moves the dance along - +Had yet resolution to go to a BALL, +My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young. + +"Woulez wous danser, mademoiselle?" - +Merrily moves the dance along; - +Said she, "Sir, to dance I should like very well," +My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young. + +They danc'd to the left, and they danc'd to the right, - +Merrily moves the dance along; - +And her troth the fair damsel bestow'd on the knight, +My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young. + +"Now what shall I fetch you, mademoiselle?" - +Merrily moves the dance along; - +Said she, "Sir, an ice I should like very well," +My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young. + +But the ice, when he'd got it, he instantly ate, - +Merrily moves the dance along; - +Although his poor partner was all in a fret, +My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young. + +He ate up the ice like a prudent young lord, - +Merrily moves the dance along; - +For he saw 't was the very last ice on the board, - +My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young. + +"Now, when shall we marry?" the gentleman cried; - +Merrily moves the dance along; - +"Sir, get you to Jordan," the damsel replied, +My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young. + +"I never will wed with the pitiful elf" - +Merrily moves the dance along - +"Who ate up the ice which I wanted myself," +My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young. + +"I'd pardon your backing from red Waterloo," - +Merrily moves the dance along - +"But I never will wed with a coward and screw," +My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young. + + + +CHAPTER XLIII + + + +The Church. + + +The next morning I began to think of departing; I had sewed up the +money which I had received for the horse in a portion of my +clothing, where I entertained no fears for its safety, with the +exception of a small sum in notes, gold, and silver, which I +carried in my pocket. Ere departing, however, I determined to +stroll about and examine the town, and observe more particularly +the humours of the fair than I had hitherto an opportunity of +doing. The town, when I examined it, offered no object worthy of +attention but its church--an edifice of some antiquity; under the +guidance of an old man, who officiated as sexton, I inspected its +interior attentively, occasionally conversing with my guide, who, +however, seemed much more disposed to talk about horses than the +church. "No good horses in the fair this time, measter," said he; +"none but one brought hither by a chap whom nobody knows, and +bought by a foreigneering man, who came here with Jack Dale. The +horse fetched a good swinging price, which is said, however, to be +much less than its worth; for the horse is a regular clipper; not +such a one, 'tis said, has been seen in the fair for several +summers. Lord Whitefeather says that he believes the fellow who +brought him to be a highwayman, and talks of having him taken up, +but Lord Whitefeather is only in a rage because he could not get +him for himself. The chap would not sell it to un; Lord Screw +wanted to beat him down, and the chap took huff, said he wouldn't +sell it to him at no price, and accepted the offer of the +foreigneering man, or of Jack, who was his 'terpreter, and who +scorned to higgle about such a hanimal, because Jack is a +gentleman, though bred a dickey-boy, whilst t'other, though bred a +lord, is a screw and a whitefeather. Every one says the cove was +right, and I says so too; I likes spirit, and if the cove were +here, and in your place, measter, I would invite him to drink a +pint of beer. Good horses are scarce now, measter, ay, and so are +good men, quite a different set from what there were when I was +young; that was the time for men and horses. Lord bless you, I +know all the breeders about here; they are not a bad set, and they +breed a very fairish set of horses, but they are not like what +their fathers were, nor are their horses like their fathers' +horses. Now there is Mr.--the great breeder, a very fairish man, +with very fairish horses; but, Lord bless you, he's nothing to what +his father was, nor his steeds to his father's; I ought to know, +for I was at the school here with his father, and afterwards for +many a year helped him to get up his horses; that was when I was +young, measter--those were the days. You look at that monument, +measter," said he, as I stopped and looked attentively at a +monument on the southern side of the church near the altar; "that +was put up for a rector of this church, who lived a long time ago, +in Oliver's time, and was ill-treated and imprisoned by Oliver and +his men; you will see all about it on the monument. There was a +grand battle fought nigh this place, between Oliver's men and the +Royal party, and the Royal party had the worst of it, as I'm told +they generally had; and Oliver's men came into the town, and did a +great deal of damage, and ill-treated the people. I can't remember +anything about the matter myself, for it happened just one hundred +years before I was born, but my father was acquainted with an old +countryman, who lived not many miles from here, who said he +remembered perfectly well the day of the battle; that he was a boy +at the time, and was working in a field near the place where the +battle was fought; and heard shouting, and noise of firearms, and +also the sound of several balls, which fell in the field near him. +Come this way, measter, and I will show you some remains of that +day's field." Leaving the monument, on which was inscribed an +account of the life and sufferings of the Royalist Rector of +Horncastle, I followed the sexton to the western end of the church, +where, hanging against the wall, were a number of scythes stuck in +the ends of poles. "Those are the weapons, measter," said the +sexton, "which the great people put into the hands of the country +folks, in order that they might use them against Oliver's men; ugly +weapons enough; however, Oliver's men won, and Sir Jacob Ashley and +his party were beat. And a rare time Oliver and his men had of it, +till Oliver died, when the other party got the better, not by +fighting, 'tis said, but through a General Monk, who turned sides. +Ah, the old fellow that my father knew, said he well remembered the +time when General Monk went over and proclaimed Charles the Second. +Bonfires were lighted everywhere, oxen roasted, and beer drunk by +pailfuls; the country folks were drunk with joy, and something +else; sung scurvy songs about Oliver to the tune of Barney Banks, +and pelted his men, wherever they found them, with stones and +dirt." "The more ungrateful scoundrels they," said I. "Oliver and +his men fought the battle of English independence against a +wretched king and corrupt lords. Had I been living at the time, I +should have been proud to be a trooper of Oliver." "You would, +measter, would you? Well, I never quarrels with the opinions of +people who come to look at the church, and certainly independence +is a fine thing. I like to see a chap of an independent spirit, +and if I were now to see the cove that refused to sell his horse to +my Lord Screw and Whitefeather, and let Jack Dale have him, I would +offer to treat him to a pint of beer--e'es, I would, verily. Well, +measter, you have now seen the church, and all there's in it worth +seeing--so I'll just lock up, and go and finish digging the grave I +was about when you came, after which I must go into the fair to see +how matters are going on. Thank ye, measter," said he, as I put +something into his hand; "thank ye kindly; 'tis not every one who +gives me a shilling now-a-days who comes to see the church, but +times are very different from what they were when I was young; I +was not sexton then, but something better; helped Mr.--with his +horses, and got many a broad crown. Those were the days, measter, +both for men and horses--and I say, measter, if men and horses were +so much better when I was young than they are now, what, I wonder, +must they have been in the time of Oliver and his men?" + + + +CHAPTER XLIV + + + +An Old Acquaintance. + + +Leaving the church, I strolled through the fair, looking at the +horses, listening to the chaffering of the buyers and sellers, and +occasionally putting in a word of my own, which was not always +received with much deference; suddenly, however, on a whisper +arising that I was the young cove who had brought the wonderful +horse to the fair which Jack Dale had bought for the foreigneering +man, I found myself an object of the greatest attention; those who +had before replied with stuff! and nonsense! to what I said, now +listened with the greatest eagerness to any nonsense I wished to +utter, and I did not fail to utter a great deal; presently, +however, becoming disgusted with the beings about me, I forced my +way, not very civilly, through my crowd of admirers; and passing +through an alley and a back street, at last reached an outskirt of +the fair, where no person appeared to know me. Here I stood, +looking vacantly on what was going on, musing on the strange +infatuation of my species, who judge of a person's words, not from +their intrinsic merit, but from the opinion--generally an erroneous +one--which they have formed of the person. From this reverie I was +roused by certain words which sounded near me, uttered in a strange +tone, and in a strange cadence--the words were, "them that finds, +wins; and them that can't find, loses." Turning my eyes in the +direction from which the words proceeded, I saw six or seven +people, apparently all countrymen, gathered round a person standing +behind a tall white table of very small compass. "What!" said I, +"the thimble-engro of--Fair here at Horncastle." Advancing nearer, +however, I perceived that though the present person was a thimble- +engro, he was a very different one from my old acquaintance of-- +Fair. The present one was a fellow about half-a-foot taller than +the other. He had a long, haggard, wild face, and was dressed in a +kind of jacket, something like that of a soldier, with dirty hempen +trousers, and with a foreign-looking peaked hat on his head. He +spoke with an accent evidently Irish, and occasionally changed the +usual thimble formule, "them that finds wins, and them that can't-- +och, sure!--they loses;" saying also frequently, "your honour," +instead of "my lord." I observed, on drawing nearer, that he +handled the pea and thimble with some awkwardness, like that which +might be expected from a novice in the trade. He contrived, +however, to win several shillings, for he did not seem to play for +gold, from "their honours." Awkward, as he was, he evidently did +his best, and never flung a chance away by permitting any one to +win. He had just won three shillings from a farmer, who, incensed +at his loss, was calling him a confounded cheat, and saying that he +would play no more, when up came my friend of the preceding day, +Jack, the jockey. This worthy, after looking at the thimble-man a +moment or two, with a peculiarly crafty glance, cried out, as he +clapped down a shilling on the table, "I will stand you, old +fellow!" "Them that finds wins; and them that can't--och, sure!-- +they loses," said the thimble-man. The game commenced, and Jack +took up the thimble without finding the pea; another shilling was +produced, and lost in the same manner; "this is slow work," said +Jack, banging down a guinea on the table; "can you cover that, old +fellow?" The man of the thimble looked at the gold, and then at +him who produced it, and scratched his head. "Come, cover that, or +I shall be off," said the jockey. "Och, sure, my lord!--no, I mean +your honour--no, sure, your lordship," said the other, "if I covers +it at all, it must be with silver, for divil a bit of gold have I +by me." "Well, then, produce the value in silver," said the +jockey, "and do it quickly, for I can't be staying here all day." +The thimble-man hesitated, looked at Jack with a dubious look, then +at the gold, and then scratched his head. There was now a laugh +amongst the surrounders, which evidently nettled the fellow, who +forthwith thrust his hand into his pocket, and pulling out all his +silver treasure, just contrived to place the value of the guinea on +the table. "Them that finds wins, and them that can't find-- +LOSES," interrupted Jack, lifting up a thimble, out of which rolled +a pea. "There, paddy, what do you think of that?" said he, seizing +the heap of silver with one hand, whilst he pocketed the guinea +with the other. The thimble-engro stood, for some time, like one +transfixed, his eyes glaring wildly, now at the table, and now at +his successful customers; at last he said, "Arrah, sure, master!-- +no, I manes my lord--you are not going to ruin a poor boy!" "Ruin +you!" sail the other; "what! by winning a guinea's change? a pretty +small dodger you--if you have not sufficient capital, why do you +engage in so deep a trade as thimbling? come, will you stand +another game?" "Och, sure, master, no! the twenty shillings and +one which you have cheated me of were all I had in the world." +"Cheated you," said Jack, "say that again, and I will knock you +down." "Arrah! sure, master, you knows that the pea under the +thimble was not mine; here is mine, master; now give me back my +money." "A likely thing," said Jack; "no, no, I know a trick worth +two or three of that; whether the pea was yours or mine, you will +never have your twenty shillings and one again; and if I have +ruined you, all the better; I'd gladly ruin all such villains as +you, who ruin poor men with your dirty tricks, whom you would knock +down and rob on the road, if you had but courage; not that I mean +to keep your shillings, with the exception of the two you cheated +from me, which I'll keep. A scramble, boys! a scramble!" said he, +flinging up all the silver into the air, with the exception of the +two shillings; and a scramble there instantly was, between the +rustics who had lost their money and the urchins who came running +up; the poor thimble-engro tried likewise to have his share; and +though he flung himself down, in order to join more effectually in +the scramble, he was unable to obtain a single sixpence; and having +in his rage given some of his fellow-scramblers a cuff or two, he +was set upon by the boys and country fellows, and compelled to make +an inglorious retreat with his table, which had been flung down in +the scuffle, and had one of its legs broken. As he retired, the +rabble hooted, and Jack, holding up in derision the pea with which +he had outmanoeuvred him, exclaimed, "I always carry this in my +pocket in order to be a match for vagabonds like you." + +The tumult over, Jack gone, and the rabble dispersed, I followed +the discomfited adventurer at a distance, who, leaving the town, +went slowly on, carrying his dilapidated piece of furniture; till +coming to an old wall by the roadside, he placed it on the ground, +and sat down, seemingly in deep despondency, holding his thumb to +his mouth. Going nearly up to him, I stood still, whereupon he +looked up, and perceiving I was looking steadfastly at him, he +said, in an angry tone, "Arrah! what for are you staring at me so? +By my shoul, I think you are one of the thaives who are after +robbing me. I think I saw you among them, and if I were only sure +of it, I would take the liberty of trying to give you a big +bating." "You have had enough of trying to give people a beating," +said I; "you had better be taking your table to some skilful +carpenter to get it repaired. He will do it for sixpence." "Divil +a sixpence did you and your thaives leave me," said he; "and if you +do not take yourself off, joy, I will be breaking your ugly head +with the foot of it." "Arrah, Murtagh!" said I, "would ye be +breaking the head of your friend and scholar, to whom you taught +the blessed tongue of Oilien nan Naomha, in exchange for a pack of +cards?" Murtagh, for he it was, gazed at me for a moment with a +bewildered look; then, with a gleam of intelligence in his eye, he +said, "Shorsha! no, it can't be--yes, by my faith it is!" Then, +springing up, and seizing me by the hand, he said, "Yes, by the +powers, sure enough it is Shorsha agra! Arrah, Shorsha! where have +you been this many a day? Sure, you are not one of the spalpeens +who are after robbing me?" "Not I," I replied, "but I saw all that +happened. Come, you must not take matters so to heart; cheer up; +such things will happen in connection with the trade you have taken +up." "Sorrow befall the trade, and the thief who taught it me," +said Murtagh; "and yet the trade is not a bad one, if I only knew +more of it, and had some one to help and back me. Och! the idea of +being cheated and bamboozled by that one-eyed thief in the +horseman's dress." "Let bygones be bygones, Murtagh," said I; "it +is no use grieving for the past; sit down, and let us have a little +pleasant gossip. Arrah, Murtagh! when I saw you sitting under the +wall, with your thumb to your mouth, it brought to my mind tales +which you used to tell me all about Finn-ma-Coul. You have not +forgotten Finn-ma-Coul, Murtagh, and how he sucked wisdom out of +his thumb." "Sorrow a bit have I forgot about him, Shorsha," said +Murtagh, as we sat down together, "nor what you yourself told me +about the snake. Arrah, Shorsha! what ye told me about the snake, +bates anything I ever told you about Finn. Ochone, Shorsha! +perhaps you will be telling me about the snake once more? I think +the tale would do me good, and I have need of comfort, God knows, +ochone!" Seeing Murtagh in such a distressed plight, I forthwith +told him over again the tale of the snake, in precisely the same +words as I have related it in the first part of this history. +After which, I said, "Now, Murtagh, tit for tat; ye will be telling +me one of the old stories of Finn-ma-Coul." "Och, Shorsha! I +haven't heart enough," said Murtagh. "Thank you for your tale, but +it makes me weep; it brings to my mind Dungarvon times of old--I +mean the times we were at school together." "Cheer up, man," said +I, "and let's have the story, and let it be about Ma-Coul and the +salmon and his thumb." "Arrah, Shorsha! I can't. Well, to oblige +you, I'll give it you. Well, you know Ma-Coul was an exposed +child, and came floating over the salt sea in a chest which was +cast ashore at Veintry Bay. In the corner of that bay was a +castle, where dwelt a giant and his wife, very respectable and +decent people, and this giant, taking his morning walk along the +bay, came to the place where the child had been cast ashore in his +box. Well, the giant looked at the child, and being filled with +compassion for his exposed state, took the child up in his box, and +carried him home to his castle, where he and his wife, being dacent +respectable people, as I telled ye before, fostered the child and +took care of him, till he became old enough to go out to service +and gain his livelihood, when they bound him out apprentice to +another giant, who lived in a castle up the country, at some +distance from the bay. + +"This giant, whose name was Darmod David Odeen, was not a +respectable person at all, but a big old vagabond. He was twice +the size of the other giant, who, though bigger than any man, was +not a big giant; for, as there are great and small men, so there +are great and small giants--I mean some are small when compared +with the others. Well, Finn served this giant a considerable time, +doing all kinds of hard and unreasonable service for him, and +receiving all kinds of hard words, and many a hard knock and kick +to boot--sorrow befall the old vagabond who could thus ill-treat a +helpless foundling. It chanced that one day the giant caught a +salmon, near a salmon-leap upon his estate--for, though a big ould +blackguard, he was a person of considerable landed property, and +high sheriff for the county Cork. Well, the giant brings home the +salmon by the gills, and delivers it to Finn, telling him to roast +it for the giant's dinner; 'but take care, ye young blackguard,' he +added, 'that in roasting it--and I expect ye to roast it well--you +do not let a blister come upon its nice satin skin, for if ye do, I +will cut the head off your shoulders.' 'Well,' thinks Finn, 'this +is a hard task; however, as I have done many hard tasks for him, I +will try and do this too, though I was never set to do anything yet +half so difficult.' So he prepared his fire, and put his gridiron +upon it, and lays the salmon fairly and softly upon the gridiron, +and then he roasts it, turning it from one side to the other just +in the nick of time, before the soft satin skin could be blistered. +However, on turning it over the eleventh time--and twelve would +have settled the business--he found he had delayed a little bit of +time too long in turning it over, and that there was a small, tiny +blister on the soft outer skin. Well, Finn was in a mighty panic, +remembering the threats of the ould giant; however, he did not lose +heart, but clapped his thumb upon the blister in order to smooth it +down. Now the salmon, Shorsha, was nearly done, and the flesh +thoroughly hot, so Finn's thumb was scalt, and he, clapping it to +his mouth, sucked it, in order to draw out the pain, and in a +moment--hubbuboo!--became imbued with all the wisdom of the world. + +Myself. Stop, Murtagh! stop! + +Murtagh. All the witchcraft, Shorsha. + +Myself. How wonderful! + +Murtagh. Was it not, Shorsha? The salmon, do you see, was a fairy +salmon. + +Myself. What a strange coincidence + +Murtagh. A what, Shorsha? + +Myself. Why, that the very same tale should be told of Finn-ma- +Coul, which is related of Sigurd Fafnisbane. + +"What thief was that, Shorsha?" + +"Thief! 'Tis true, he took the treasure of Fafnir. Sigurd was the +hero of the North, Murtagh, even as Finn is the great hero of +Ireland. He, too, according to one account, was an exposed child, +and came floating in a casket to a wild shore, where he was suckled +by a hind, and afterwards found and fostered by Mimir, a fairy +blacksmith; he, too, sucked wisdom from a burn. According to the +Edda, he burnt his finger whilst feeling of the heart of Fafnir, +which he was roasting, and putting it into his mouth in order to +suck out the pain, became imbued with all the wisdom of the world, +the knowledge of the language of birds, and what not. I have heard +you tell the tale of Finn a dozen times in the blessed days of old, +but its identity with the tale of Sigurd never occurred to me till +now. It is true, when I knew you of old, I had never read the tale +of Sigurd, and have since almost dismissed matters of Ireland from +my mind; but as soon as you told me again about Finn's burning his +finger, the coincidence struck me. I say, Murtagh, the Irish owe +much to the Danes--" + +"Devil a bit, Shorsha, do they owe to the thaives, except many a +bloody bating and plundering, which they never paid them back. +Och, Shorsha! you, edicated in ould Ireland, to say that the Irish +owes anything good to the plundering villains--the Siol Loughlin." + +"They owe them half their traditions, Murtagh, and amongst others, +Finn-ma-Coul and the burnt finger; and if ever I publish the +Loughlin songs, I'll tell the world so." + +"But, Shorsha, the world will never believe ye--to say nothing of +the Irish part of it." + +"Then the world, Murtagh--to say nothing of the Irish part of it-- +will be a fool, even as I have often thought it; the grand thing, +Murtagh, is to be able to believe oneself, and respect oneself. +How few whom the world believes believe and respect themselves." + +"Och, Shorsha! shall I go on with the tale of Finn?" + +"I'd rather you should not, Murtagh; I know all about it already." + +"Then why did you bother me to tell it at first, Shorsha? Och, it +was doing my ownself good, and making me forget my own sorrowful +state, when ye interrupted me with your thaives of Danes! Och, +Shorsha! let me tell you how Finn, by means of sucking his thumb, +and the witchcraft he imbibed from it, contrived to pull off the +arm of the ould wagabone, Darmod David Odeen, whilst shaking hands +with him--for Finn could do no feat of strength without sucking his +thumb, Shorsha, as Conan the Bald told the son of Oisin in the song +which I used to sing ye in Dungarvon times of old;" and here +Murtagh repeated certain Irish words to the following effect: - + + +"O little the foolish words I heed +O Oisin's son, from thy lips which come; +No strength were in Finn for valorous deed, +Unless to the gristle he suck'd his thumb." + + +"Enough is as good as a feast, Murtagh, I am no longer in the cue +for Finn. I would rather hear your own history. Now tell us, man, +all that has happened to ye since Dungarvon times of old?" + +"Och, Shorsha, it would be merely bringing all my sorrows back upon +me!" + +"Well, if I know all your sorrows, perhaps I shall be able to find +a help for them. I owe you much, Murtagh; you taught me Irish, and +I will do all I can to help you." + +"Why, then, Shorsha, I'll tell ye my history. Here goes!" + + + +CHAPTER XLV + + + +Murtagh's Tale. + + +"Well, Shorsha, about a year and a half after you left us--and a +sorrowful hour for us it was when ye left us, losing, as we did, +your funny stories of your snake--and the battles of your military- +-they sent me to Paris and Salamanca, in order to make a saggart of +me." + +"Pray excuse me," said I, "for interrupting you, but what kind of +place is Salamanca?" + +"Divil a bit did I ever see of it, Shorsha!" + +"Then why did ye say ye were sent there? Well, what kind of place +is Paris? Not that I care much about Paris." + +"Sorrow a bit did I ever see of either them, Shorsha, for no one +sent me to either. When we says at home a person is going to Paris +and Salamanca, it manes that he is going abroad to study to be a +saggart, whether he goes to them places or not. No, I never saw +either--bad luck to them--I was shipped away from Cork up the +straits to a place called Leghorn, from which I was sent to--to a +religious house, where I was to be instructed in saggarting till +they had made me fit to cut a dacent figure in Ireland. We had a +long and tedious voyage, Shorsha; not so tedious, however, as it +would have been had I been fool enough to lave your pack of cards +behind me, as the thaif, my brother Denis, wanted to persuade me to +do, in order that he might play with them himself. With the cards +I managed to have many a nice game with the sailors, winning from +them ha'pennies and sixpences until the captain said I was ruining +his men, and keeping them from their duty; and, being a heretic and +a Dutchman, swore that unless I gave over he would tie me up to the +mast and give me a round dozen. This threat obliged me to be more +on my guard, though I occasionally contrived to get a game at +night, and to win sixpennies and ha'pennies. + +"We reached Leghorn at last, and glad I was to leave the ship and +the master, who gave me a kick as I was getting over the side, bad +luck to the dirty heretic for kicking a son of the church, for I +have always been a true son of the church, Shorsha, and never +quarrelled with it unless it interfered with me in my playing at +cards. I left Leghorn with certain muleteers, with whom I played +at cards at the baiting-houses, and who speedily won from me all +the ha'pennies and sixpences I had won from the sailors. I got my +money's worth, however, for I learnt from the muleteers all kind of +quaint tricks upon the cards, which I knew nothing of before; so I +did not grudge them what they chated me of, and when we parted we +did so in kindness on both sides. On getting to--I was received +into the religious house for Irishes. It was the Irish house, +Shorsha, into which I was taken, for I do not wish ye to suppose +that I was in the English religious house which there is in that +city, in which a purty set are educated, and in which purty doings +are going on if all tales be true. + +"In this Irish house I commenced my studies, learning to sing and +to read the Latin prayers of the church. 'Faith, Shorsha, many's +the sorrowful day I passed in that house learning the prayers and +litanies, being half-starved, with no earthly diversion at all, at +all; until I took the cards out of my chest and began instructing +in card-playing the chum which I had with me in my cell; then I had +plenty of diversion along with him during the times when I was not +engaged in singing, and chanting, and saying the prayers of the +church; there was, however, some drawback in playing with my chum, +for though he was very clever in learning, divil a sixpence had he +to play with, in which respect he was like myself, the master who +taught him, who had lost all my money to the muleteers who taught +me the tricks upon the cards; by degrees, however, it began to be +noised about the religious house that Murtagh, from Hibrodary, {1} +had a pack of cards with which he played with his chum in the cell; +whereupon other scholars of the religious house came to me, some to +be taught and others to play, so with some I played, and others I +taught, but neither to those who could play, or to those who could +not, did I teach the elegant tricks which I learnt from the +muleteers. Well, the scholars came to me for the sake of the +cards, and the porter and cook of the religious house, who could +both play very well, came also; at last I became tired of playing +for nothing, so I borrowed a few bits of silver from the cook, and +played against the porter, and by means of my tricks I won money +from the porter, and then I paid the cook the bits of silver which +I had borrowed of him; and played with him, and won a little of his +money, which I let him win back again, as I had lived long enough +in a religious house to know that it is dangerous to take money +from the cook. In a little time, Shorsha, there was scarcely +anything going on in the house but card-playing; the almoner played +with me, and so did the sub-rector, and I won money from both; not +too much, however, lest they should tell the rector, who had the +character of a very austere man, and of being a bit of a saint; +however, the thief of a porter, whose money I had won, informed the +rector of what was going on, and one day the rector sent for me +into his private apartment, and gave me so long and pious a lecture +upon the heinous sin of card-playing, that I thought I should sink +into the ground; after about half-an-hour's inveighing against +card-playing, he began to soften his tone, and with a long sigh +told me that at one time of his life he had been a young man +himself, and had occasionally used the cards; he then began to ask +me some questions about card-playing, which questions I afterwards +found were to pump from me what I knew about the science. After a +time he asked me whether I had got my cards with me, and on my +telling him I had, he expressed a wish to see them, whereupon I +took the pack out of my pocket, and showed it to him; he looked at +it very attentively, and at last, giving another deep sigh, he +said, that though he was nearly weaned from the vanities of the +world, he had still an inclination to see whether he had entirely +lost the little skill which at one time he possessed. When I heard +him speak in this manner, I told him that if his reverence was +inclined for a game of cards, I should be very happy to play one +with him; scarcely had I uttered these words than he gave a third +sigh, and looked so very much like a saint that I was afraid he was +going to excommunicate me. Nothing of the kind, however, for +presently he gets up and locks the door, then sitting down at the +table, he motioned me to do the same, which I did, and in five +minutes we were playing at cards, his reverence and myself. + +"I soon found that his reverence knew quite as much about card- +playing as I did. Divil a trick was there connected with cards +that his reverence did not seem awake to. As, however, we were not +playing for money, this circumstance did not give me much +uneasiness; so we played game after game for two hours, when his +reverence, having business, told me I might go, so I took up my +cards, make my obedience, and left him. The next day I had other +games with him, and so on for a very long time, still playing for +nothing. At last his reverence grew tired of playing for nothing, +and proposed that we should play for money. Now, I had no desire +to play with his reverence for money, as I knew that doing so would +bring on a quarrel. As long as we were playing for nothing, I +could afford to let his reverence use what tricks he pleased; but +if we played for money, I couldn't do so. If he played his tricks, +I must play mine, and use every advantage to save my money; and +there was one I possessed which his reverence did not. The cards +being my own, I had put some delicate little marks on the trump +cards, just at the edges, so that when I dealt, by means of a +little sleight of hand, I could deal myself any trump card I +pleased. But I wished, as I said before, to have no dealings for +money with his reverence, knowing that he was master in the house, +and that he could lead me a dog of a life if I offended him, either +by winning his money, or not letting him win mine. So I told him I +had no money to play with, but the ould thief knew better; he knew +that I was every day winning money from the scholars, and the sub- +rector, and the other people of the house, and the ould thaif had +determined to let me go on in that way winning money, and then by +means of his tricks, which he thought I dare not resent, to win +from me all my earnings--in a word, Shorsha, to let me fill myself +like a sponge, and then squeeze me for his own advantage. So he +made me play with him, and in less than three days came on the +quarrel; his reverence chated me, and I chated his reverence; the +ould thaif knew every trick that I knew, and one or two more; but +in daling out the cards I nicked his reverence; scarcely a trump +did I ever give him, Shorsha, and won his money purty freely. Och, +it was a purty quarrel! All the delicate names in the 'Newgate +Calendar,' if ye ever heard of such a book; all the hang-dog names +in the Newgate histories, and the lives of Irish rogues, did we +call each other--his reverence and I! Suddenly, however, putting +out his hand, he seized the cards, saying, 'I will examine these +cards, ye cheating scoundrel! for I believe there are dirty marks +on them, which ye have made in order to know the winning cards.' +'Give me back my pack,' said I, 'or m'anam on Dioul if I be not the +death of ye!' His reverence, however, clapped the cards into his +pocket, and made the best of his way to the door, I hanging upon +him. He was a gross, fat man, but, like most fat men, deadly +strong, so he forced his way to the door, and, opening it, flung +himself out, with me still holding on him like a terrier dog on a +big fat pig; then he shouts for help, and in a little time I was +secured and thrust into a lock-up room, where I was left to myself. +Here was a purty alteration. Yesterday I was the idol of the +religious house, thought more on than his reverence, every one +paying me court and wurtship, and wanting to play cards with me, +and to learn my tricks, and fed, moreover, on the tidbits of the +table; and to-day I was in a cell, nobody coming to look at me but +the blackguard porter who had charge of me, my cards taken from me, +and with nothing but bread and water to live upon. Time passed +dreary enough for a month, at the end of which time his reverence +came to me, leaving the porter just outside the door in order to +come to his help should I be violent; and then he read me a very +purty lecture on my conduct, saying I had turned the religious +house topsy-turvy, and corrupted the scholars, and that I was the +cheat of the world, for that on inspecting the pack he had +discovered the dirty marks which I had made upon the trump cards +for to know them by. He said a great deal more to me, which is not +worth relating, and ended by telling me that he intended to let me +out of confinement next day, but that if ever I misconducted myself +any more, he would clap me in again for the rest of my life. I had +a good mind to call him an ould thaif, but the hope of getting out +made me hold my tongue, and the next day I was let out; and need +enough I had to be let out, for what with being alone, and living +on bread and water, I was becoming frighted, or, as the doctors +call it, narvous. But when I was out--oh, what a change I found in +the religious house! no card-playing, for it had been forbidden to +the scholars, and there was now nothing going on but reading and +singing; divil a merry visage to be seen, but plenty of prim airs +and graces; but the case of the scholars, though bad enough, was +not half so bad as mine, for they could spake to each other, +whereas I could not have a word of conversation, for the ould thaif +of a rector had ordered them to send me to 'Coventry,' telling them +that I was a gambling cheat, with morals bad enough to corrupt a +horse regiment; and whereas they were allowed to divert themselves +with going out, I was kept reading and singing from morn till +night. The only soul who was willing to exchange a word with me +was the cook, and sometimes he and I had a little bit of discourse +in a corner, and we condoled with each other, for he liked the +change in the religious house almost as little as myself; but he +told me that, for all the change below stairs, there was still +card-playing on above, for that the ould thaif of a rector, and the +sub-rector, and the almoner played at cards together, and that the +rector won money from the others--the almoner had told him so--and, +moreover, that the rector was the thaif of the world, and had once +been kicked out of a club-house at Dublin for cheating at cards, +and after that circumstance had apparently reformed and lived +decently till the time when I came to the religious house with my +pack, but that the sight of that had brought him back to his ould +gambling. He told the cook, moreover, that the rector frequently +went out at night to the houses of the great clergy and cheated at +cards. + +"In this melancholy state, with respect to myself, things continued +a long time, when suddenly there was a report that his Holiness the +Pope intended to pay a visit to the religious house in order to +examine into its discipline. When I heard this I was glad, for I +determined after the Pope had done what he had come to do, to fall +upon my knees before him, and make a regular complaint of the +treatment I had received, to tell him of the cheating at cards of +the rector, and to beg him to make the ould thaif give me back my +pack again. So the day of the visit came, and his Holiness made +his appearance with his attendants, and, having looked over the +religious house, he went into the rector's room with the rector, +the sub-rector, and the almoner. I intended to have waited until +his Holiness came out, but finding he stayed a long time I thought +I would e'en go into him, so I went up to the door without anybody +observing me--his attendants being walking about the corridor--and +opening it I slipped in, and there what do you think I saw? Why, +his Holiness the Pope, and his reverence the rector, and the sub- +rector, and the almoner seated at cards; and the ould thaif of a +rector was dealing out the cards which ye had given me, Shorsha, to +his Holiness the Pope, the sub-rector, the almoner, and himself." + +In this part of his history I interrupted Murtagh, saying that I +was afraid he was telling untruths, and that it was highly +improbable that the Pope would leave the Vatican to play cards with +Irish at their religious house, and that I was sure, if on his, +Murtagh's authority, I were to tell the world so, the world would +never believe it. + +"Then the world, Shorsha, would be a fool, even as you were just +now saying you had frequently believed it to be; the grand thing, +Shorsha, is to be able to believe oneself; if ye can do that, it +matters very little whether the world believe ye or no. But a +purty thing for you and the world to stickle at the Pope's playing +at cards at a religious house of Irish; och! if I were to tell you +and the world, what the Pope has been sometimes at, at the +religious house of English thaives, I would excuse you and the +world for turning up your eyes. However, I wish to say nothing +against the Pope. I am a son of the church, and if the Pope don't +interfere with my cards, divil a bit will I have to say against +him; but I saw the Pope playing, or about to play, with the pack +which had been taken from me, and when I told the Pope, the Pope +did not--Ye had better let me go on with my history, Shorsha; +whether you or the world believe it or not, I am sure it is quite +as true as your tale of the snake, or saying that Finn got his +burnt finger from the thaives of Loughlin; and whatever you may +say, I am sure the world will think so too." + +I apologized to Murtagh for interrupting him, and telling him that +his history, whether true or not, was infinitely diverting, begged +him to continue it. + + + +CHAPTER XLVI + + + +Murtagh's Story continued--The Priest, Exorcist, and Thimble-engro- +-How to Check a Rebellion. + +I was telling ye, Shorsha, when ye interrupted me, that I found the +Pope, the rector, the sub-rector, and the almoner seated at the +table, the rector with my pack of cards in his hands, about to deal +out to the Pope and the rest, not forgetting himself, for whom he +intended all the trump-cards, no doubt. No sooner did they +perceive me than they seemed taken all aback; but the rector, +suddenly starting up with the cards in his hand, asked me what I +did there, threatening to have me well disciplined if I did not go +about my business; 'I am come for my pack,' said I, 'ye ould thaif, +and to tell his Holiness how I have been treated by ye;' then going +down on my knees before his Holiness, I said, 'Arrah, now, your +Holiness! will ye not see justice done to a poor boy who has been +sadly misused? The pack of cards which that old ruffian has in his +hand are my cards, which he has taken from me, in order to chate +with. Arrah! don't play with him, your Holiness, for he'll only +chate ye--there are dirty marks upon the cards which bear the +trumps, put there in order to know them by; and the ould thaif in +daling out will give himself all the good cards, and chate ye of +the last farthing in your pocket; so let them be taken from him, +your Holiness, and given back to me; and order him to lave the +room, and then, if your Holiness be for an honest game, don't think +I am the boy to baulk ye. I'll take the old ruffian's place, and +play with ye till evening, and all night besides, and divil an +advantage will I take of the dirty marks, though I know them all, +having placed them on the cards myself.' I was going on in this +way when the ould thaif of a rector, flinging down the cards, made +at me as if to kick me out of the room, whereupon I started up and +said, 'If ye are for kicking, sure two can play at that;' and then +I kicked at his reverence, and his reverence at me, and there was a +regular scrimmage between us, which frightened the Pope, who, +getting up, said some words which I did not understand, but which +the cook afterwards told me were, 'English extravagance, and this +is the second edition;' for it seems that, a little time before, +his Holiness had been frightened in St. Peter's Church by the +servant of an English family, which those thaives of the English +religious house had been endeavouring to bring over to the Catholic +faith, and who didn't approve of their being converted. Och! his +Holiness did us all sore injustice to call us English, and to +confound our house with the other; for however dirty our house +might be, our house was a clane house compared with the English +house, and we honest people compared with those English thaives. +Well, his Holiness was frighted, and the almoner ran out, and +brought in his Holiness's attendants, and they laid hold of me, but +I struggled hard, and said, 'I will not go without my pack; arrah, +your Holiness! make them give me my pack, which Shorsha gave me in +Dungarvon times of old;' but my struggles were of no use. I was +pulled away and put out in the ould dungeon, and his Holiness went +away sore frighted, crossing himself much, and never returned +again. + +"In the old dungeon I was fastened to the wall by a chain, and +there I was disciplined once every other day for the first three +weeks, and then I was left to myself, and my chain, and hunger; and +there I sat in the dungeon, sometimes screeching, sometimes +hallooing, for I soon became frighted, having nothing in the cell +to divert me. At last the cook found his way to me by stealth, and +comforted me a little, bringing me tidbits out of the kitchen; and +he visited me again and again--not often, however, for he dare only +come when he could steal away the key from the custody of the thaif +of a porter. I was three years in the dungeon, and should have +gone mad but for the cook, and his words of comfort, and his +tidbits, and nice books which he brought me out of the library, +which were the 'Calendars of Newgate,' and the 'Lives of Irish +Rogues and Raparees,' the only English books in the library. +However, at the end of three years, the ould thaif of a rector, +wishing to look at them books, missed them from the library, and +made a perquisition about them, and the thaif of a porter said that +he shouldn't wonder if I had them; saying that he had once seen me +reading; and then the rector came with others to my cell, and took +my books from me, from under my straw, and asked me how I came by +them; and on my refusal to tell, they disciplined me again till the +blood ran down my back; and making more perquisition they at last +accused the cook of having carried the books to me, and not +denying, he was given warning to leave next day, but he left that +night, and took me away with him; for he stole the key, and came to +me and cut my chain through, and then he and I escaped from the +religious house through a window--the cook with a bundle, +containing what things he had. No sooner had we got out than the +honest cook gave me a little bit of money and a loaf, and told me +to follow a way which he pointed out, which he said would lead to +the sea; and then, having embraced me after the Italian way, he +left me, and I never saw him again. So I followed the way which +the cook pointed out, and in two days reached a seaport called +Chiviter Vik, terribly foot-foundered, and there I met a sailor who +spoke Irish, and who belonged to a vessel just ready to sail for +France; and the sailor took me on board his vessel, and said I was +his brother, and the captain gave me a passage to a place in France +called Marseilles; and when I got there, the captain and sailor got +a little money for me and a passport, and I travelled across the +country towards a place they directed me to called Bayonne, from +which they said I might, perhaps, get to Ireland. Coming, however, +to a place called Pau, all my money being gone, I enlisted into a +regiment called the Army of the Faith, which was going into Spain, +for the King of Spain had been dethroned and imprisoned by his own +subjects, as perhaps you may have heard; and the King of France, +who was his cousin, was sending an army to help him, under the +command of his own son, whom the English called Prince Hilt, +because when he was told that he was appointed to the command, he +clapped his hand on the hilt of his sword. So I enlisted into the +regiment of the Faith, which was made up of Spaniards, many of them +priests who had run out of Spain, and broken Germans, and foot- +foundered Irish, like myself. It was said to be a blackguard +regiment, that same regiment of the Faith; but, 'faith, I saw +nothing blackguardly going on in it, for you would hardly reckon +card-playing and dominoes, and pitch and toss blackguardly, and I +saw nothing else in it. There was one thing in it which I +disliked--the priests drawing their Spanish knives occasionally, +when they lost their money. After we had been some time at Pau, +the army of the Faith was sent across the mountains into Spain, as +the vanguard of the French; and no sooner did the Spaniards see the +Faith than they made a dash at it, and the Faith ran away, myself +along with it, and got behind the French army, which told it to +keep there, and the Faith did so, and followed the French army, +which soon scattered the Spaniards, and in the end placed the king +on his throne again. When the war was over the Faith was +disbanded; some of the foreigners, however, amongst whom I was one, +were put into a Guard regiment, and there I continued for more than +a year. + +"One day, being at a place called the Escurial, I took stock, as +the tradesmen say, and found I possessed the sum of eighty dollars +won by playing at cards, for though I could not play so well with +the foreign cards as with the pack you gave me, Shorsha, I had yet +contrived to win money from the priests and soldiers of the Faith. +Finding myself possessed of such a capital, I determined to leave +the service, and to make the best of my way to Ireland; so I +deserted, but coming in an evil hour to a place they calls Torre +Lodones, I found the priest playing at cards with his parishioners. +The sight of the cards made me stop, and then, fool like, +notwithstanding the treasure I had about me, I must wish to play, +so not being able to speak their language, I made signs to them to +let me play, and the priest and his thaives consented willingly; so +I sat down to cards with the priest and two of his parishioners, +and in a little time had won plenty of their money, but I had +better never have done any such thing, for suddenly the priest and +all his parishioners set upon me and bate me, and took from me all +I had, and cast me out of the village more dead than alive. Och! +it's a bad village that, and if I had known what it was I would +have avoided it, or run straight through it, though I saw all the +card-playing in the world going on in it. There is a proverb about +it, as I was afterwards told, old as the time of the Moors, which +holds good to the present day--it is, that in Torre Lodones there +are twenty-four housekeepers, and twenty-five thieves, maning that +all the people are thaives, and the clergyman to boot, who is not +reckoned a housekeeper; and troth I found the clergyman the +greatest thaif of the lot. After being cast out of that village I +travelled for nearly a month, subsisting by begging tolerably well, +for though most of the Spanish are thaives, they are rather +charitable; but though charitable thaives they do not like their +own being taken from them without leave being asked, as I found to +my cost; for on my entering a garden near Seville, without leave, +to take an orange, the labourer came running up and struck me to +the ground with a hatchet, giving me a big wound in the arm. I +fainted with loss of blood, and on reviving I found myself in a +hospital at Seville, to which the labourer and the people of the +village had taken me. I should have died of starvation in that +hospital had not some English people heard of me and come to see +me; they tended me with food till I was cured, and then paid my +passage on board a ship to London, to which place the ship carried +me. + +"And now I was in London with five shillings in my pocket--all I +had in the world--and that did not last for long; and when it was +gone I begged in the streets, but I did not get much by that, +except a month's hard labour in the correction-house; and when I +came out I knew not what to do, but thought I would take a walk in +the country, for it was spring-time, and the weather was fine, so I +took a walk about seven miles from London, and came to a place +where a great fair was being held; and there I begged, but got +nothing but a halfpenny, and was thinking of going farther, when I +saw a man with a table, like that of mine, playing with thimbles, +as you saw me. I looked at the play, and saw him win money, and +run away, and hunted by constables more than once. I kept +following the man, and at last entered into conversation with him; +and learning from him that he was in want of a companion to help +him, I offered to help him if he would pay me; he looked at me from +top to toe, and did not wish at first to have anything to do with +me, as he said my appearance was against me. 'Faith, Shorsha, he +had better have looked at home, for his appearance was not much in +his favour: he looked very much like a Jew, Shorsha. However, he +at last agreed to take me to be his companion, or bonnet as he +called it; and I was to keep a look-out, and let him know when +constables were coming, and to spake a good word for him +occasionally, whilst he was chating folks with his thimbles and his +pea. So I became his bonnet, and assisted him in the fair, and in +many other fairs beside; but I did not like my occupation much, or +rather my master, who, though not a big man, was a big thaif, and +an unkind one, for do all I could I could never give him pleasure; +and he was continually calling me fool and bogtrotter, and twitting +me because I could not learn his thaives' Latin, and discourse with +him in it, and comparing me with another acquaintance, or bit of a +pal of his, whom he said he had parted with in the fair, and of +whom he was fond of saying all kinds of wonderful things, amongst +others, that he knew the grammar of all tongues. At last, wearied +with being twitted by him with not being able to learn his thaives' +Greek, I proposed that I should teach him Irish, that we should +spake it together when we had anything to say in secret. To that +he consented willingly; but, och! a purty hand he made with Irish, +'faith, not much better than I did with his thaives' Hebrew. Then +my turn came, and I twitted him nicely with dulness, and compared +him with a pal that I had in ould Ireland, in Dungarvon times of +yore, to whom I teached Irish, telling him that he was the broth of +a boy, and not only knew the grammar of all human tongues, but the +dialects of the snakes besides; in fact, I tould him all about your +own sweet self, Shorsha, and many a dispute and quarrel had we +together about our pals, which was the cleverest fellow, his or +mine. + +"Well, after having been wid him about two months, I quitted him +without noise, taking away one of his tables, and some peas and +thimbles; and that I did with a safe conscience, for he paid me +nothing, and was not over free with the meat and the drink, though +I must say of him that he was a clever fellow, and perfect master +of his trade, by which he made a power of money, and bating his not +being able to learn Irish, and a certain Jewish lisp which he had, +a great master of his tongue, of which he was very proud; so much +so, that he once told me that when he had saved a certain sum of +money he meant to leave off the thimbling business, and enter +Parliament; into which, he said, he could get at any time, through +the interest of a friend of his, a Tory Peer--my Lord Whitefeather, +with whom, he said, he had occasionally done business. With the +table, and other things which I had taken, I commenced trade on my +own account, having contrived to learn a few of his tricks. My +only capital was the change for half-a-guinea, which he had once +let fall, and which I picked up, which was all I could ever get +from him: for it was impossible to stale any money from him, he +was so awake, being up to all the tricks of thaives, having +followed the diving trade, as he called it, for a considerable +time. My wish was to make enough by my table to enable me to +return with credit to ould Ireland, where I had no doubt of being +able to get myself ordained as priest; and, in troth, +notwithstanding I was a beginner, and without any companion to help +me, I did tolerably well, getting my meat and drink, and increasing +my small capital, till I came to this unlucky place of Horncastle, +where I was utterly ruined by the thaif in the rider's dress. And +now, Shorsha, I am after telling you my history; perhaps you will +now be telling me something about yourself?" + +I told Murtagh all about myself that I deemed necessary to relate, +and then asked him what he intended to do; he repeated that he was +utterly ruined, and that he had no prospect before him but +starving, or making away with himself. I inquired "How much would +take him to Ireland, and establish him there with credit." "Five +pounds," he answered, adding, "but who in the world would be fool +enough to tend me five pounds, unless it be yourself, Shorsha, who, +may be, have not got it; for when you told me about yourself, you +made no boast of the state of your affairs." "I am not very rich," +I replied, "but I think I can accommodate you with what you want. +I consider myself under great obligations to you, Murtagh; it was +you who instructed me in the language of Oilein nan Naomha, which +has been the foundation of all my acquisitions in philology; +without you, I should not have been what I am--Lavengro! which +signifies a philologist. Here is the money, Murtagh," said I, +putting my hand into my pocket, and taking out five pounds, "much +good may it do you." He took the money, stared at it, and then at +me--"And you mane to give me this, Shorsha?" "It is no longer mine +to give," said I; "it is yours." "And you give it me for the +gratitude you bear me?" "Yes, " said I, "and for Dungarvon times +of old." "Well, Shorsha," said he, "you are a broth of a boy, and +I'll take your benefaction--five pounds! och, Jasus!" He then put +the money in his pocket, and springing up, waved his hat three +times, uttering some old Irish cry; then, sitting down, he took my +hand, and said, "Sure, Shorsha, I'll be going thither; and when I +get there, it is turning over another leaf I will be; I have learnt +a thing or two abroad; I will become a priest; that's the trade, +Shorsha! and I will cry out for repale; that's the cry, Shorsha! +and I'll be a fool no longer." "And what will you do with your +table?" said I. "'Faith, I'll be taking it with me, Shorsha; and +when I gets to Ireland, I'll get it mended, and I will keep it in +the house which I shall have; and when I looks upon it, I will be +thinking of all I have undergone." "You had better leave it behind +you," said I; "if you take it with you, you will, perhaps, take up +the thimble trade again before you get to Ireland, and lose the +money I am after giving you." "No fear of that, Shorsha; never +will I play on that table again, Shorsha, till I get it mended, +which shall not be till I am a priest, and have a house in which to +place it." + +Murtagh and I then went into the town, where we had some +refreshment together, and then parted on our several ways. I heard +nothing of him for nearly a quarter of a century, when a person who +knew him well, coming from Ireland, and staying at my humble house, +told me a great deal about him. He reached Ireland in safety, soon +reconciled himself with his Church, and was ordained a priest; in +the priestly office he acquitted himself in a way very +satisfactory, upon the whole, to his superiors, having, as he +frequently said, learned wisdom abroad. The Popish Church never +fails to turn to account any particular gift which its servants may +possess; and discovering soon that Murtagh was endowed with +considerable manual dexterity--proof of which he frequently gave at +cards, and at a singular game which he occasionally played at +thimbles--it selected him as a very fit person to play the part of +exorcist; and accordingly he travelled through a great part of +Ireland, casting out devils from people possessed, which he +afterwards exhibited, sometimes in the shape of rabbits, and +occasionally birds and fishes. There is a holy island in a lake in +Ireland, to which the people resort at a particular season of the +year. Here Murtagh frequently attended, and it was here that he +performed a cure which will cause his name long to be remembered in +Ireland, delivering a possessed woman of two demons, which he +brandished aloft in his hands, in the shape of two large eels, and +subsequently hurled into the lake, amidst the shouts of an +enthusiastic multitude. Besides playing the part of an exorcist, +he acted that of a politician with considerable success; he +attached himself to the party of the sire of agitation--"the man of +paunch," and preached and hallooed for repeal with the loudest and +best, as long as repeal was the cry; as soon, however, as the Whigs +attained the helm of Government, and the greater part of the loaves +and fishes--more politely termed the patronage of Ireland--was +placed at the disposition of the priesthood, the tone of Murtagh, +like that of the rest of his brother saggarts, was considerably +softened; he even went so far as to declare that politics were not +altogether consistent with sacerdotal duty; and resuming his +exorcisms, which he had for some time abandoned, he went to the +Isle of Holiness, and delivered a possessed woman of six demons in +the shape of white mice. He, however, again resumed the political +mantle in the year 1848, during the short period of the rebellion +of the so-called Young Irelanders. The priests, though they +apparently sided with this party, did not approve of it, as it was +chiefly formed of ardent young men, fond of what they termed +liberty, and by no means admirers of priestly domination, being +mostly Protestants. Just before the outbreak of this rebellion, it +was determined between the priests and the -, that this party +should be rendered comparatively innocuous by being deprived of the +sinews' of war--in other words, certain sums of money which they +had raised for their enterprise. Murtagh was deemed the best +qualified person in Ireland to be entrusted with the delicate +office of getting their money from them. Having received his +instructions, he invited the leaders to his parsonage amongst the +mountains, under pretence of deliberating with them about what was +to be done. They arrived there just before nightfall, dressed in +red, yellow, and green, the colours so dear to enthusiastic +Irishmen; Murtagh received them with great apparent cordiality, and +entered into a long discourse with them, promising them the +assistance of himself and order, and received from them a profusion +of thanks. After a time Murtagh, observing, in a jocular tone, +that consulting was dull work, proposed a game of cards, and the +leaders, though somewhat surprised, assenting, he went to a closet, +and taking out a pack of cards, laid it upon the table; it was a +strange dirty pack, and exhibited every mark of having seen very +long service. On one of its guests making some remarks on the +"ancientness" of its appearance, Murtagh observed that there was a +very wonderful history attached to that pack; it had been presented +to him, he said, by a young gentleman, a disciple of his, to whom, +in Dungarvon times of yore, he had taught the Irish language, and +of whom he related some very extraordinary things; he added that +he, Murtagh, had taken it to -, where it had once the happiness of +being in the hands of the Holy Father; by a great misfortune, he +did not say what, he had lost possession of it, and had returned +without it, but had some time since recovered it; a nephew of his, +who was being educated at--for a priest, having found it in a nook +of the college, and sent it to him. + +Murtagh and the leaders then played various games with this pack, +more especially one called by the initiated "blind hockey," the +result being that at the end of about two hours the leaders found +they had lost one-half of their funds; they now looked serious, and +talked of leaving the house, but Murtagh begging them to stay to +supper, they consented. After supper, at which the guests drank +rather freely, Murtagh said that, as he had not the least wish to +win their money, he intended to give them their revenge; he would +not play at cards with them, he added, but at a funny game of +thimbles, at which they would be sure of winning back their own; +then going out, he brought in a table, tall and narrow, on which +placing certain thimbles and a pea, he proposed that they should +stake whatever they pleased on the almost certainty of finding the +pea under the thimbles. The leaders, after some hesitation, +consented, and were at first eminently successful, winning back the +greater part of what they had lost; after some time, however, +Fortune, or rather Murtagh, turned against them, and then, instead +of leaving off, they doubled and trebled their stakes, and +continued doing so until they had lost nearly the whole of their +funds. Quite furious, they now swore that Murtagh had cheated +them, and insisted on having their property restored to them. +Murtagh, without a word of reply, went to the door, and shouting +into the passage something in Irish, the room was instantly filled +with bogtrotters, each at least six feet high, with a stout +shillelah in his hand. Murtagh then turning to his guests, asked +them what they meant by insulting an anointed priest; telling them +that it was not for the likes of them to avenge the wrongs of +Ireland. "I have been clane mistaken in the whole of ye," said he, +"I supposed ye Irish, but have found, to my sorrow, that ye are +nothing of the kind; purty fellows to pretend to be Irish, when +there is not a word of Irish on the tongue of any of ye, divil a +ha'porth; the illigant young gentleman to whom I taught Irish, in +Dungarvon times of old, though not born in Ireland, has more Irish +in him than any ten of ye. He is the boy to avenge the wrongs of +Ireland, if ever foreigner is to do it." Then saying something to +the bogtrotters, they instantly cleared the room of the young +Irelanders, who retired sadly disconcerted; nevertheless, being +very silly young fellows, they hoisted the standard of rebellion; +few, however, joining them, partly because they had no money, and +partly because the priests abused them with might and main, their +rebellion ended in a lamentable manner; themselves being seized and +tried, and though convicted, not deemed of sufficient importance to +be sent to the scaffold, where they might have had the satisfaction +of saying - + + +"Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori." + + +My visitor, after saying that of the money won, Murtagh retained a +considerable portion, that a part went to the hierarchy for what +were called church purposes, and that the--took the remainder, +which it employed in establishing a newspaper, in which the private +characters of the worthiest and most loyal Protestants in Ireland +were traduced and vilified, concluded his account by observing, +that it was the common belief that Murtagh, having by his services, +ecclesiastical and political, acquired the confidence of the +priesthood and favour of the Government, would, on the first +vacancy, be appointed to the high office of Popish Primate of +Ireland. + + + +CHAPTER XLVII + + + +Departure from Horncastle--Recruiting Sergeant--Kauloes and +Lolloes. + + +Leaving Horncastle I bent my steps in the direction of the east. I +walked at a brisk rate, and late in the evening reached a large +town, situate at the entrance of an extensive firth, or arm of the +sea, which prevented my farther progress eastward. Sleeping that +night in the suburbs of the town, I departed early next morning in +the direction of the south. A walk of about twenty miles brought +me to another large town, situated on a river, where I again turned +towards the east. At the end of the town I was accosted by a +fiery-faced individual, somewhat under the middle size, dressed as +a recruiting sergeant. + +"Young man," said the recruiting sergeant, "you are just the kind +of person to serve the Honourable East India Company." + +"I had rather the Honourable Company should serve me," said I. + +"Of course, young man. Well, the Honourable East India Company +shall serve you--that's reasonable. Here, take this shilling; 'tis +service-money. The Honourable Company engages to serve you, and +you the Honourable Company; both parties shall be thus served; +that's just and reasonable." + +"And what must I do for the Company?" + +"Only go to India; that's all." + +"And what should I do in India?" + +"Fight, my brave boy! fight, my youthful hero!" + +"What kind of country is India?" + +"The finest country in the world! Rivers, bigger than the Ouse. +Hills, higher than anything near Spalding! Trees--you never saw +such trees! Fruits--you never saw such fruits!" + +"And the people--what kind of folk are they?" + +"Pah! Kauloes--blacks--a set of rascals not worth regarding." + +"Kauloes!" said I; "blacks!" + +"Yes," said the recruiting sergeant; "and they call us lolloes, +which, in their beastly gibberish, means red." + +"Lolloes!" said I; "reds!" + +"Yes," said the recruiting sergeant, "kauloes and lolloes; and all +the lolloes have to do is to kick and cut down the kauloes, and +take from them their rupees, which mean silver money. Why do you +stare so?" + +"Why," said I, "this is the very language of Mr. Petulengro." + +"Mr. Pet-?" + +"Yes," said I, "and Tawno Chikno." + +"Tawno Chik-? I say, young fellow, I don't like your way of +speaking; no, nor your way of looking. You are mad, sir; you are +mad; and what's this? Why, your hair is grey! You won't do for +the Honourable Company--they like red. I'm glad I didn't give you +the shilling. Good day to you." + +"I shouldn't wonder," said I, as I proceeded rapidly along a broad +causeway, in the direction of the east, "if Mr. Petulengro and +Tawno Chikno came originally from India. I think I'll go there." + + + + +APPENDIX + + + + +CHAPTER I + + + +A Word for Lavengro. + + +Lavengro is the history up to a certain period of one of rather a +peculiar mind and system of nerves, with an exterior shy and cold, +under which lurk much curiosity, especially with regard to what is +wild and extraordinary, a considerable quantity of energy and +industry, and an unconquerable love of independence. It narrates +his earliest dreams and feelings, dwells with minuteness on the +ways, words, and characters of his father, mother, and brother, +lingers on the occasional resting-places of his wandering half +military childhood, describes the gradual hardening of his bodily +frame by robust exercises, his successive struggles, after his +family and himself have settled down in a small local capital, to +obtain knowledge of every kind, but more particularly philological +lore; his visits to the tent of the Romany chal, and the parlour of +the Anglo-German philosopher; the effect produced upon his +character by his flinging himself into contact with people all +widely differing from each other, but all extraordinary; his +reluctance to settle down to the ordinary pursuits of life; his +struggles after moral truth; his glimpses of God and the +obscuration of the Divine Being, to his mind's eye; and his being +cast upon the world of London by the death of his father, at the +age of nineteen. In the world within a world, the world of London, +it shows him playing his part for some time as he best can, in the +capacity of a writer for reviews and magazines, and describes what +he saw and underwent whilst labouring in that capacity; it +represents him, however, as never forgetting that he is the son of +a brave but poor gentleman, and that if he is a hack author, he is +likewise a scholar. It shows him doing no dishonourable jobs, and +proves that if he occasionally associates with low characters, he +does so chiefly to gratify the curiosity of a scholar. In his +conversations with the apple-woman of London Bridge, the scholar is +ever apparent, so again in his acquaintance with the man of the +table, for the book is no raker up of the uncleanness of London, +and if it gives what at first sight appears refuse, it invariably +shows that a pearl of some kind, generally a philological one, is +contained amongst it; it shows its hero always accompanied by his +love of independence, scorning in the greatest poverty to receive +favours from anybody, and describes him finally rescuing himself +from peculiarly miserable circumstances by writing a book, an +original book, within a week, even as Johnson is said to have +written his "Rasselas," and Beckford his "Vathek," and tells how, +leaving London, he betakes himself to the roads and fields. + +In the country it shows him leading a life of roving adventure, +becoming tinker, gypsy, postillion, ostler; associating with +various kinds of people, chiefly of the lower classes, whose ways +and habits are described; but, though leading this erratic life, we +gather from the book that his habits are neither vulgar nor +vicious, that he still follows to a certain extent his favourite +pursuits, hunting after strange characters, or analysing strange +words and names. At the conclusion of the last chapter, which +terminates the first part of the history, it hints that he is about +to quit his native land on a grand philological expedition. + +Those who read this book with attention--and the author begs to +observe that it would be of little utility to read it hurriedly-- +may derive much information with respect to matters of philology +and literature; it will be found treating of most of the principal +languages from Ireland to China, and of the literature which they +contain; and it is particularly minute with regard to the ways, +manners, and speech of the English section of the most +extraordinary and mysterious clan or tribe of people to be found in +the whole world--the children of Roma. But it contains matters of +much more importance than anything in connection with philology, +and the literature and manners of nations. Perhaps no work was +ever offered to the public in which the kindness and providence of +God have been set forth by more striking examples, or the +machinations of priestcraft been more truly and lucidly exposed, or +the dangers which result to a nation when it abandons itself to +effeminacy, and a rage for what is novel and fashionable, than the +present. + +With respect to the kindness and providence of God, are they not +exemplified in the case of the old apple-woman and her son? These +are beings in many points bad, but with warm affections, who, after +an agonizing separation, are restored to each other, but not until +the hearts of both are changed and purified by the influence of +affliction. Are they not exemplified in the case of the rich +gentleman, who touches objects in order to avert the evil chance? +This being has great gifts and many amiable qualifies, but does not +everybody see that his besetting sin is selfishness? He fixes his +mind on certain objects, and takes inordinate interest in them, +because they are his own, and those very objects, through the +providence of God, which is kindness in disguise, become snakes and +scorpions to whip him. Tired of various pursuits, he at last +becomes an author, and publishes a book, which is very much +admired, and which he loves with his usual inordinate affection; +the book, consequently, becomes a viper to him, and at last he +flings it aside and begins another; the book, however, is not flung +aside by the world, who are benefited by it, deriving pleasure and +knowledge from it: so the man who merely wrote to gratify self, +has already done good to others, and got himself an honourable +name. But God will not allow that man to put that book under his +head and use it as a pillow: the book has become a viper to him, +he has banished it, and is about another, which he finishes and +gives to the world; it is a better book than the first, and every +one is delighted with it; but it proves to the writer a scorpion, +because he loves it with inordinate affection; but it was good for +the world that he produced this book, which stung him as a +scorpion. Yes; and good for himself, for the labour of writing it +amused him, and perhaps prevented him from dying of apoplexy; but +the book is banished, and another is begun, and herein, again, is +the providence of God manifested; the man has the power of +producing still, and God determines that he shall give to the world +what remains in his brain, which he would not do, had he been +satisfied with the second work; he would have gone to sleep upon +that as he would upon the first, for the man is selfish and lazy. +In his account of what he suffered during the composition of this +work, his besetting sin of selfishness is manifest enough; the work +on which he is engaged occupies his every thought, it is his idol, +his deity, it shall be all his own, he won't borrow a thought from +any one else, and he is so afraid lest, when he publishes it, that +it should be thought that he had borrowed from any one, that he is +continually touching objects, his nervous system, owing to his +extreme selfishness, having become partly deranged. He is left +touching, in order to banish the evil chance from his book, his +deity. No more of his history is given; but does the reader think +that God will permit that man to go to sleep on his third book, +however extraordinary it may be? Assuredly not. God will not +permit that man to rest till he has cured him to a certain extent +of his selfishness, which has, however, hitherto been very useful +to the world. + +Then, again, in the tale of Peter Williams, is not the hand of +Providence to be seen? This person commits a sin in his childhood, +utters words of blasphemy, the remembrance of which, in after life, +preying upon his imagination, unfits him for quiet pursuits, to +which he seems to have been naturally inclined; but for the +remembrance of that sin, he would have been Peter Williams the +quiet and respectable Welsh farmer, somewhat fond of reading the +ancient literature of his country in winter evenings, after his +work was done. God, however, was aware that there was something in +Peter Williams to entitle him to assume a higher calling; he +therefore permits this sin, which, though a childish affair, was +yet a sin, and committed deliberately, to prey upon his mind till +he becomes at last an instrument in the hand of God, a humble Paul, +the great preacher, Peter Williams, who, though he considers +himself a reprobate and a castaway, instead of having recourse to +drinking in mad desperation, as many do who consider themselves +reprobates, goes about Wales and England preaching the word of God, +dilating on his power and majesty, and visiting the sick and +afflicted, until God sees fit to restore to him his peace of mind; +which he does not do, however, until that mind is in a proper +condition to receive peace, till it has been purified by the pain +of the one idea which has so long been permitted to riot in his +brain; which pain, however, an angel, in the shape of a gentle +faithful wife, had occasionally alleviated; for God is merciful +even in the blows which He bestoweth, and will not permit any one +to be tempted beyond the measure which he can support. And here it +will be as well for the reader to ponder upon the means by which +the Welsh preacher is relieved from his mental misery: he is not +relieved by a text from the Bible, by the words of consolation and +wisdom addressed to him by his angel-minded wife, nor by the +preaching of one yet more eloquent than himself; but by a quotation +made by Lavengro from the life of Mary Flanders, cut-purse and +prostitute, which life Lavengro had been in the habit of reading at +the stall of his old friend the apple-woman, on London Bridge, who +had herself been very much addicted to the perusal of it, though +without any profit whatever. Should the reader be dissatisfied +with the manner in which Peter Williams is made to find relief, the +author would wish to answer, that the Almighty frequently +accomplishes his purposes by means which appear very singular to +the eyes of men, and at the same time to observe that the manner in +which that relief is obtained, is calculated to read a lesson to +the proud, fanciful, and squeamish, who are ever in a fidget lest +they should be thought to mix with low society, or to bestow a +moment's attention on publications which are not what is called of +a perfectly unobjectionable character. Had not Lavengro formed the +acquaintance of the apple-woman on London Bridge, he would not have +had an opportunity of reading the life of Mary Flanders; and, +consequently, of storing in a memory, which never forgets anything, +a passage which contained a balm for the agonized mind of poor +Peter Williams. The best medicines are not always found in the +finest shops. Suppose, for example, if, instead of going to London +Bridge to read, he had gone to Albemarle Street, and had received +from the proprietors of the literary establishment in that very +fashionable street, permission to read the publications on the +tables of the saloons there, does the reader think he would have +met any balm in those publications for the case of Peter Williams? +does the reader suppose that he would have found Mary Flanders +there? He would certainly have found that highly unobjectionable +publication, "Rasselas," and the "Spectator," or "Lives of Royal +and Illustrious Personages," but, of a surety, no Mary Flanders; so +when Lavengro met with Peter Williams, he would have been +unprovided with a balm to cure his ulcerated mind, and have parted +from him in a way not quite so satisfactory as the manner in which +he took his leave of him; for it is certain that he might have read +"Rasselas," and all other unexceptionable works to be found in the +library of Albemarle Street, over and over again, before he would +have found any cure in them for the case of Peter Williams. +Therefore the author requests the reader to drop any squeamish +nonsense he may wish to utter about Mary Flanders, and the manner +in which Peter Williams was cured. + +And now with respect to the old man who knew Chinese, but could not +tell what was o'clock. This individual was a man whose natural +powers would have been utterly buried and lost beneath a mountain +of sloth and laziness, had not God determined otherwise. He had in +his early years chalked out for himself a plan of life in which he +had his own ease and self-indulgence solely in view; he had no +particular bad passions to gratify, he only wished to live a happy +quiet life, just as if the business of this mighty world could be +carried on by innocent people fond of ease or quiet, or that +Providence would permit innocent quiet drones to occupy any portion +of the earth and to cumber it. God had at any rate decreed that +this man should not cumber it as a drone. He brings a certain +affliction upon him, the agony of which produces that terrible +whirling of the brain which, unless it is stopped in time, produces +madness; he suffers indescribable misery for a period, until one +morning his attention is arrested, and his curiosity is aroused, by +certain Chinese letters on a teapot; his curiosity increases more +and more, and, of course, in proportion as his curiosity is +increased with respect to the Chinese marks, the misery in his +brain, produced by his mental affliction, decreases. He sets about +learning Chinese, and after the lapse of many years, during which +his mind subsides into a certain state of tranquillity, he acquires +sufficient knowledge of Chinese to be able to translate with ease +the inscriptions to be found on its singular crockery. Yes, the +laziest of human beings, through the Providence of God, a being too +of rather inferior capacity, acquires the written part of a +language so difficult that, as Lavengro said on a former occasion, +none but the cleverest people in Europe, the French, are able to +acquire it. But God did not intend that man should merely acquire +Chinese. He intended that he should be of use to his species, and +by the instrumentality of the first Chinese inscription which he +translates, the one which first arrested his curiosity, he is +taught the duty of hospitality; yes, by means of an inscription in +the language of a people, who have scarcely an idea of hospitality +themselves, God causes the slothful man to play a useful and +beneficent part in the world, relieving distressed wanderers, and, +amongst others, Lavengro himself. But a striking indication of the +man's surprising sloth is still apparent in what he omits to do; he +has learnt Chinese, the most difficult of languages, and he +practises acts of hospitality, because he believes himself enjoined +to do so by the Chinese inscription, but he cannot tell the hour of +the day by the clock within his house; he can get on, he thinks, +very well without being able to do so; therefore from this one +omission, it is easy to come to a conclusion as to what a +sluggard's part the man would have played in life, but for the +dispensation of Providence; nothing but extreme agony could have +induced such a man to do anything useful. He still continues, with +all he has acquired, with all his usefulness, and with all his +innocence of character, without any proper sense of religion, +though he has attained a rather advanced age. If it be observed, +that this want of religion is a great defect in the story, the +author begs leave to observe that he cannot help it. Lavengro +relates the lives of people so far as they were placed before him, +but no further. It was certainly a great defect in so good a man +to be without religion; it was likewise a great defect in so +learned a man not to be able to tell what was o'clock. It is +probable that God, in his loving kindness, will not permit that man +to go out of the world without religion; who knows but some +powerful minister of the church full of zeal for the glory of God, +will illume that man's dark mind; perhaps some clergyman will come +to the parish who will visit him and teach him his duty to his God. +Yes, it is very probable that such a man, before he dies, will have +been made to love his God; whether he will ever learn to know +what's o'clock is another matter. It is probable that he will go +out of the world without knowing what's o'clock. It is not so +necessary to be able to tell the time of day by the clock as to +know one's God through His inspired word; a man cannot get to +heaven without religion, but a man can get there very comfortably +without knowing what's o'clock. + +But, above all, the care and providence of God are manifested in +the case of Lavengro himself, by the manner in which he is enabled +to make his way in the world up to a certain period, without +falling a prey either to vice or poverty. In his history, there is +a wonderful illustration of part of the text, quoted by his mother, +"I have been young, but now am old, yet never saw I the righteous +forsaken, or his seed begging his bread." He is the son of good +and honourable parents, but at the critical period of life, that of +entering into the world, he finds himself without any earthly +friend to help him, yet he manages to make his way; he does not +become a Captain in the Life Guards, it is true, nor does he get +into Parliament, nor does the last volume conclude in the most +satisfactory and unobjectionable manner, by his marrying a dowager +countess, as that wise man Addison did, or by his settling down as +a great country gentleman, perfectly happy and contented, like the +very moral Roderick Random, or the equally estimable Peregrine +Pickle; he is hack author, gypsy, tinker, and postillion, yet, upon +the whole, he seems to be quite as happy as the younger sons of +most earls, to have as high feelings of honour; and when the reader +loses sight of him, he has money in his pocket honestly acquired, +to enable him to commence a journey quite as laudable as those +which the younger sons of earls generally undertake. Surely all +this is a manifestation of the kindness and providence of God: and +yet he is not a religious person; up to the time when the reader +loses sight of him, he is decidedly not a religious person; he has +glimpses, it is true, of that God who does not forsake him, but he +prays very seldom, is not fond of going to church; and, though he +admires Tate and Brady's version of the Psalms, his admiration is +rather caused by the beautiful poetry which that version contains +than the religion; yet his tale is not finished--like the tale of +the gentleman who touched objects, and that of the old man who knew +Chinese without knowing what was o'clock; perhaps, like them, he is +destined to become religious, and to have, instead of occasional +glimpses, frequent and distinct views of his God; yet, though he +may become religious, it is hardly to be expected that he will +become a very precise and straightlaced person; it is probable that +he will retain, with his scholarship, something of his gypsyism, +his predilection for the hammer and tongs, and perhaps some +inclination to put on certain gloves, not white kid, with any +friend who may be inclined for a little old English diversion, and +a readiness to take a glass of ale, with plenty of malt in it, and +as little hop as may well be--ale at least two years old--with the +aforesaid friend, when the diversion is over; for, as it is the +belief of the writer that a person may get to heaven very +comfortably without knowing what's o'clock, so it is his belief +that he will not be refused admission there, because to the last he +has been fond of healthy and invigorating exercises, and felt a +willingness to partake of any of the good things which it pleases +the Almighty to put within the reach of his children during their +sojourn upon earth. + + + +CHAPTER II + + + +On Priestcraft. + + +The writer will now say a few words about priestcraft, and the +machinations of Rome, and will afterwards say something about +himself, and his motives for writing against them. + +With respect to Rome, and her machinations, much valuable +information can be obtained from particular parts of Lavengro, and +its sequel. Shortly before the time when the hero of the book is +launched into the world, the Popish agitation in England had +commenced. The Popish propaganda had determined to make a grand +attempt on England; Popish priests were scattered over the land, +doing the best they could to make converts to the old superstition. +With the plans of Rome, and her hopes, and the reasons on which +those hopes are grounded, the hero of the book becomes acquainted, +during an expedition which he makes into the country, from certain +conversations which he holds with a priest in a dingle, in which +the hero had taken up his residence; he likewise learns from the +same person much of the secret history of the Roman See, and many +matters connected with the origin and progress of the Popish +superstition. The individual with whom he holds these +conversations is a learned, intelligent, but highly-unprincipled +person, of a character however very common amongst the priests of +Rome, who in general are people void of all religion, and who, +notwithstanding they are tied to Rome by a band which they have +neither the power nor wish to break, turn her and her practices, +over their cups with their confidential associates, to a ridicule +only exceeded by that to which they turn those who become the dupes +of their mistress and themselves. + +It is now necessary that the writer should say something with +respect to himself, and his motives for waging war against Rome. +First of all, with respect to himself, he wishes to state, that to +the very last moment of his life, he will do and say all that in +his power may be to hold up to contempt and execration the +priestcraft and practices of Rome; there is, perhaps, no person +better acquainted than himself, not even among the choicest spirits +of the priesthood, with the origin and history of Popery. From +what he saw and heard of Popery in England, at a very early period +of his life, his curiosity was aroused, and he spared himself no +trouble, either by travel or study, to make himself well acquainted +with it in all its phases, the result being a hatred of it, which +he hopes and trusts he shall retain till the moment when his spirit +quits the body. Popery is the great lie of the world; a source +from which more misery and social degradation have flowed upon the +human race, than from all the other sources from which those evils +come. It is the oldest of all superstitions; and though in Europe +it assumes the name of Christianity, it existed and flourished +amidst the Himalayan hills at least two thousand years before the +real Christ was born in Bethlehem of Judea; in a word, it is +Buddhism; and let those who may be disposed to doubt this +assertion, compare the Popery of Rome, and the superstitious +practices of its followers, with the doings of the priests who +surround the grand Lama; and the mouthings, bellowing, turnings +round, and, above all, the penances of the followers of Buddh with +those of Roman devotees. But he is not going to dwell here on this +point; it is dwelt upon at tolerable length in the text, and has +likewise been handled with extraordinary power by the pen of the +gifted but irreligious Volney; moreover, the elite of the Roman +priesthood are perfectly well aware that their system is nothing +but Buddhism under a slight disguise, and the European world in +general has entertained for some time past an inkling of the fact. + +And now a few words with respect to the motives of the writer for +expressing a hatred for Rome. + +This expressed abhorrence of the author for Rome might be entitled +to little regard, provided it were possible to attribute it to any +self-interested motive. There have been professed enemies of Rome, +or of this or that system; but their professed enmity may +frequently be traced to some cause which does them little credit; +but the writer of these lines has no motive, and can have no +motive, for his enmity to Rome, save the abhorrence of an honest +heart for what is false, base, and cruel. A certain clergyman +wrote with much heat against the Papists in the time of--who was +known to favour the Papists, but was not expected to continue long +in office, and whose supposed successor, the person, indeed, who +did succeed him, was thought to be hostile to the Papists. This +divine, who obtained a rich benefice from the successor of--who +during -'s time had always opposed him in everything he proposed to +do, and who, of course, during that time affected to be very +inimical to Popery--this divine might well be suspected of having a +motive equally creditable for writing against the Papists, as that +which induced him to write for them, as soon as his patron, who +eventually did something more for him, had espoused their cause; +but what motive, save an honest one, can the present writer have, +for expressing an abhorrence of Popery? He is no clergyman, and +consequently can expect neither benefices nor bishoprics, supposing +it were the fashion of the present, or likely to be the fashion of +any future administration, to reward clergymen with benefices or +bishoprics, who, in the defence of the religion of their country +write, or shall write, against Popery, and not to reward those who +write, or shall write, in favour of it, and all its nonsense and +abominations. + +"But if not a clergyman, he is the servant of a certain society, +which has the overthrow of Popery in view, and therefore," etc. +This assertion, which has been frequently made, is incorrect, even +as those who have made it probably knew it to be. He is the +servant of no society whatever. He eats his own bread, and is one +of the very few men in England who are independent in every sense +of the word. + +It is true he went to Spain with the colours of that society on his +hat--oh! the blood glows in his veins! oh! the marrow awakes in his +old bones when he thinks of what he accomplished in Spain in the +cause of religion and civilization with the colours of that society +in his hat, and its weapon in his hand, even the sword of the word +of God; how with that weapon he hewed left and right, making the +priests fly before him, and run away squeaking: "Vaya! que demonio +es este!" Ay, and when he thinks of the plenty of Bible swords +which he left behind him, destined to prove, and which have already +proved, pretty calthrops in the heels of Popery. "Halloo! +Batuschca," he exclaimed the other night, on reading an article in +a newspaper; "what do you think of the present doings in Spain? +Your old friend the zingaro, the gitano who rode about Spain, to +say nothing of Galicia, with the Greek Buchini behind him as his +squire, had a hand in bringing them about; there are many brave +Spaniards connected with the present movement who took Bibles from +his hands, and read them and profited by them, learning from the +inspired page the duties of one man towards another, and the real +value of a priesthood and their head, who set at nought the word of +God, and think only of their own temporal interests; ay, and who +learned Gitano--their own Gitano--from the lips of the London +Caloro, and also songs in the said Gitano, very fit to dumbfounder +your semi-Buddhist priests when they attempt to bewilder people's +minds with their school-logic and pseudo-ecclesiastical nonsense, +songs such as - + + +"Un Erajai +Sinaba chibando un sermon--." + + +- But with that society he has long since ceased to have any +connection; he bade it adieu with feelings of love and admiration +more than fourteen years ago; so, in continuing to assault Popery, +no hopes of interest founded on that society can sway his mind-- +interest! who, with worldly interest in view, would ever have +anything to do with that society? It is poor and supported, like +its founder Christ, by poor people; and so far from having +political influence, it is in such disfavour, and has ever been, +with the dastardly great, to whom the government of England has for +many years past been confided, that they having borne its colours +only for a month would be sufficient to exclude any man, whatever +his talents, his learning, or his courage may be, from the +slightest chance of being permitted to serve his country either for +fee, or without. A fellow who unites in himself the bankrupt +trader, the broken author, or rather book-maker, and the laughed- +down single speech spouter of the House of Commons, may look +forward, always supposing that at one time he has been a foaming +radical, to the government of an important colony. Ay, an ancient +fox who has lost his tail may, provided he has a score of radical +friends, who will swear that he can bark Chinese, though Chinese is +not barked but sung, be forced upon a Chinese colony, though it is +well known that to have lost one's tail is considered by the +Chinese in general as an irreparable infamy, whilst to have been +once connected with a certain society, to which, to its honour be +it said, all the radical party are vehemently hostile, would be +quite sufficient to keep any one not only from a government, but +something much less, even though he could translate the rhymed +"Sessions of Hariri," and were versed, still retaining his tail, in +the two languages in which Kien-Loung wrote his Eulogium on +Moukden, that piece which, translated by Amyot, the learned Jesuit, +won the applause of the celebrated Voltaire. + +No! were the author influenced by hopes of fee or reward, he would, +instead of writing against Popery, write for it; all the trumpery +titled--he will not call them great again--would then be for him, +and their masters the radicals, with their hosts of newspapers, +would be for him, more especially if he would commence maligning +the society whose colours he had once on his hat--a society which, +as the priest says in the text, is one of the very few Protestant +institutions for which the Popish Church entertains any fear, and +consequently respect, as it respects nothing which it does not +fear. The writer said that certain "rulers" would never forgive +him for having been connected with that society; he went perhaps +too far in saying "never." It is probable that they would take him +into favour on one condition, which is, that he should turn his pen +and his voice against that society; such a mark "of a better way of +thinking" would perhaps induce them to give him a government, +nearly as good as that which they gave to a certain ancient radical +fox at the intercession of his radical friends (who were bound to +keep him from the pauper's kennel), after he had promised to foam, +bark, and snarl at corruption no more; he might even entertain +hopes of succeeding, nay, of superseding, the ancient creature in +his government; but even were he as badly off as he is well off, he +would do no such thing. He would rather exist on crusts and water; +he has often done so, and been happy; nay, he would rather starve +than be a rogue--for even the feeling of starvation is happiness +compared with what he feels who knows himself to be a rogue, +provided he has any feeling at all. What is the use of a mitre or +knighthood to a man who has betrayed his principles? What is the +use of a gilt collar, nay, even of a pair of scarlet breeches, to a +fox who has lost his tail? Oh! the horror which haunts the mind of +a fox who has lost his tail; and with reason, for his very mate +loathes him, and more especially if, like himself, she has lost her +brush. Oh! the horror which haunts the mind of the two-legged +rogue who has parted with his principles, or those which he +professed--for what? We'll suppose a government. What's the use +of a government, if the next day after you have received it, you +are obliged for very shame to scurry off to it with the hoot of +every honest man sounding in your ears? + + +"Lightly liar leaped and away ran." +PIERS PLOWMAN. + + +But bigotry, it has been said, makes the author write against +Popery; and thorough-going bigotry, indeed, will make a person say +or do anything. But the writer is a very pretty bigot truly! +Where will the public find traces of bigotry in anything he has +written? He has written against Rome with all his heart, with all +his mind, with all his soul, and with all his strength; but as a +person may be quite honest, and speak and write against Rome, in +like manner he may speak and write against her, and be quite free +from bigotry; though it is impossible for any one but a bigot or a +bad man to write or speak in her praise; her doctrines, actions, +and machinations being what they are. + +Bigotry! The author was born, and has always continued in the +wrong church for bigotry, the quiet, unpretending Church of +England; a church which, had it been a bigoted church, and not long +suffering almost to a fault, might with its opportunities, as the +priest says in the text, have stood in a very different position +from that which it occupies at present. No! let those who are in +search of bigotry, seek for it in a church very different from the +inoffensive Church of England, which never encourages cruelty or +calumny. Let them seek for it amongst the members of the Church of +Rome, and more especially amongst those who have renegaded to it. +There is nothing, however false and horrible, which a pervert to +Rome will not say for his church, and which his priests will not +encourage him in saying; and there is nothing, however horrible-- +the more horrible indeed and revolting to human nature, the more +eager he would be to do it--which he will not do for it, and which +his priests will not encourage him in doing. + +Of the readiness which converts to Popery exhibit to sacrifice all +the ties of blood and affection on the shrine of their newly- +adopted religion, there is a curious illustration in the work of +Luigi Pulci. This man, who was born at Florence in the year 1432, +and who was deeply versed in the Bible, composed a poem, called the +"Morgante Maggiore," which he recited at the table of Lorenzo de +Medici, the great patron of Italian genius. It is a mock-heroic +and religious poem, in which the legends of knight-errantry, and of +the Popish Church, are turned to unbounded ridicule. The pretended +hero of it is a converted giant, called Morgante; though his +adventures do not occupy the twentieth part of the poem, the +principal personages being Charlemagne, Orlando, and his cousin +Rinaldo of Montalban. Morgante has two brothers, both of them +giants, and in the first canto of the poem, Morgante is represented +with his brothers as carrying on a feud with the abbot and monks of +a certain convent, built upon the confines of heathenesse; the +giants being in the habit of flinging down stones, or rather huge +rocks, on the convent. Orlando, however, who is banished from the +court of Charlemagne, arriving at the convent, undertakes to +destroy them, and, accordingly, kills Passamonte and Alabastro, and +converts Morgante, whose mind had been previously softened by a +vision, in which the "Blessed Virgin" figures. No sooner is he +converted than, as a sign of his penitence, what does he do, but +hastens and cuts off the hands of his two brothers, saying - + + +"Io vo' tagliar le mani a tutti quanti +E porterolle a que' monaci santi." + + +And he does cut off the hands of his brethren, and carries them to +the abbot, who blesses him for so doing. Pulci here is holding up +to ridicule and execration the horrid butchery or betrayal of +friends by popish converts, and the encouragement they receive from +the priest. No sooner is a person converted to Popery, than his +principal thought is how he can bring the hands and feet of his +brethren, however harmless they may be, and different from the +giants, to the "holy priests," who, if he manages to do so, never +fail to praise him, saying to the miserable wretch, as the abbot +said to Morgante:- + + +"Tu sarai or perfetto e vero amico +A Cristo, quanto tu gli eri nemico." + + +Can the English public deny the justice of Pulci's illustration, +after something which it has lately witnessed? Has it not seen +equivalents for the hands and feet of brothers carried by popish +perverts to the "holy priests," and has it not seen the manner in +which the offering has been received? Let those who are in quest +of bigotry seek for it among the perverts to Rome, and not amongst +those who, born in the pale of the Church of England, have always +continued in it. + + + +CHAPTER III + + + +On Foreign Nonsense. + + +With respect to the third point, various lessons which the book +reads to the nation at large, and which it would be well for the +nation to ponder and profit by. + +There are many species of nonsense to which the nation is much +addicted, and of which the perusal of Lavengro ought to give them a +wholesome shame. First of all, with respect to the foreign +nonsense so prevalent now in England. The hero is a scholar; but, +though possessed of a great many tongues, he affects to be neither +Frenchman, nor German, nor this or that foreigner; he is one who +loves his country, and the language and literature of his country, +and speaks up for each and all when there is occasion to do so. +Now what is the case with nine out of ten amongst those of the +English who study foreign languages? No sooner have they picked up +a smattering of this or that speech than they begin to abuse their +own country, and everything connected with it, more especially its +language. This is particularly the case with those who call +themselves German students. It is said, and the writer believes +with truth, that when a woman falls in love with a particularly +ugly fellow, she squeezes him with ten times more zest than she +would a handsome one, if captivated by him. So it is with these +German students; no sooner have they taken German in hand than +there is nothing like German. Oh, the dear delightful German! How +proud I am that it is now my own, and that its divine literature is +within my reach! And all this whilst mumbling the most uncouth +speech, and crunching the most crabbed literature in Europe. The +writer is not an exclusive admirer of everything English; he does +not advise his country people never to go abroad, never to study +foreign languages, and he does not wish to persuade them that there +is nothing beautiful or valuable in foreign literature; he only +wishes that they would not make themselves fools with respect to +foreign people, foreign languages or reading; that if they chance +to have been in Spain, and have picked up a little Spanish, they +would not affect the airs of Spaniards; that if males they would +not make Tomfools of themselves by sticking cigars into their +mouths, dressing themselves in zamarras, and saying, carajo! {2} +and if females that they would not make zanies of themselves by +sticking cigars into their mouths, flinging mantillas over their +heads, and by saying carai, and perhaps carajo too; or if they have +been in France or Italy, and have picked up a little French or +Italian, they would not affect to be French or Italians; and +particularly, after having been a month or two in Germany, or +picked up a little German in England, they would not make +themselves foolish about everything German, as the Anglo-German in +the book does--a real character, the founder of the Anglo-German +school in England, and the cleverest Englishman who ever talked or +wrote encomiastic nonsense about Germany and the Germans. Of all +infatuations connected with what is foreign, the infatuation about +everything that is German, to a certain extent prevalent in +England, is assuredly the most ridiculous. One can find something +like a palliation for people making themselves somewhat foolish +about particular languages, literatures, and people. The Spanish +certainly is a noble language, and there is something wild and +captivating in the Spanish character, and its literature contains +the grand book of the world. French is a manly language. The +French are the great martial people in the world; and French +literature is admirable in many respects. Italian is a sweet +language, and of beautiful simplicity--its literature perhaps the +first in the world. The Italians!--wonderful men have sprung up in +Italy. Italy is not merely famous for painters, poets, musicians, +singers, and linguists--the greatest linguist the world ever saw, +the late Cardinal Mezzofanti, was an Italian; but it is celebrated +for men--men emphatically speaking: Columbus was an Italian, +Alexander Farnese was an Italian, so was the mightiest of the +mighty, Napoleon Bonaparte;--but the German language, German +literature, and the Germans! The writer has already stated his +opinion with respect to German; he does not speak from ignorance or +prejudice; he has heard German spoken, and many other languages. +German literature! He does not speak from ignorance, he has read +that and many a literature, and he repeats-- However, he +acknowledges that there is one fine poem in the German language, +that poem is the "Oberon;" a poem, by the bye, ignored by the +Germans--a speaking fact--and of course, by the Anglo-Germanists. +The Germans! he has been amongst them, and amongst many other +nations, and confesses that his opinion of the Germans, as men, is +a very low one. Germany, it is true, has produced one very great +man, the monk who fought the Pope, and nearly knocked him down; but +this man his countrymen--a telling fact--affect to despise, and, of +course, the Anglo-Germanists: the father of Anglo-Germanism was +very fond of inveighing against Luther. + +The madness, or rather foolery, of the English for foreign customs, +dresses, and languages, is not an affair of to-day, or yesterday-- +it is of very ancient date, and was very properly exposed nearly +three centuries ago by one Andrew Borde, who under the picture of a +"Naked man, with a pair of shears in one hand, and a roll of cloth +in the other," {3} inserted the following lines along with others:- + + +"I am an Englishman, and naked I stand here, +Musing in my mind what garment I shall weare; +For now I will weare this, and now I will weare that, +Now I will weare, I cannot tell what. +All new fashions be pleasant to mee, +I will have them, whether I thrive or thee; +What do I care if all the world me fail? +I will have a garment reach to my taile; +Then am I a minion, for I wear the new guise. +The next yeare after I hope to be wise, +Not only in wearing my gorgeous array, +For I will go to learning a whole summer's day; +I will learn Latine, Hebrew, Greek, and French, +And I will learn Dutch, sitting on my bench. +I had no peere if to myself I were true, +Because I am not so, divers times do I rue. +Yet I lacke nothing, I have all things at will +If I were wise and would hold myself still, +And meddle with no matters but to me pertaining, +But ever to be true to God and my king. +But I have such matters rowling in my pate, +That I will and do--I cannot tell what," etc. + + + +CHAPTER IV + + + +On Gentility Nonsense--Illustrations of Gentility. + + +What is gentility? People in different stations in England-- +entertain different ideas of what is genteel, {4} but it must be +something gorgeous, glittering, or tawdry, to be considered genteel +by any of them. The beau-ideal of the English aristocracy, of +course with some exceptions, is some young fellow with an imperial +title, a military personage of course, for what is military is so +particularly genteel, with flaming epaulets, a cocked hat and +plume, a prancing charger, and a band of fellows called generals +and colonels, with flaming epaulets, cocked hats and plumes, and +prancing chargers vapouring behind him. It was but lately that the +daughter of an English marquis was heard to say, that the sole +remaining wish of her heart--she had known misfortunes, and was not +far from fifty--was to be introduced to--whom? The Emperor of +Austria! The sole remaining wish of the heart of one who ought to +have been thinking of the grave and judgment, was to be introduced +to the miscreant who had caused the blood of noble Hungarian +females to be whipped out of their shoulders, for no other crime +than devotion to their country, and its tall and heroic sons. The +middle classes--of course there are some exceptions--admire the +aristocracy, and consider them pinks, the aristocracy who admire +the Emperor of Austria, and adored the Emperor of Russia, till he +became old, ugly, and unfortunate, when their adoration instantly +terminated; for what is more ungenteel than age, ugliness, and +misfortune! The beau-ideal with those of the lower classes, with +peasants and mechanics, is some flourishing railroad contractor: +look, for example, how they worship Mr. Flamson. This person makes +his grand debut in the year 'thirty-nine, at a public meeting in +the principal room of a country inn. He has come into the +neighbourhood with the character of a man worth a million pounds, +who is to make everybody's fortune; at this time, however, he is +not worth a shilling of his own, though he flashes about +dexterously three or four thousand pounds, part of which sum he has +obtained by specious pretences, and part from certain individuals +who are his confederates. But in the year 'forty-nine, he is +really in possession of the fortune which he and his agents +pretended to be worth ten years before--he is worth a million +pounds. By what means has he come by them? By railroad contracts, +for which he takes care to be paid in hard cash before he attempts +to perform them, and to carry out which he makes use of the sweat +and blood of wretches who, since their organization, have +introduced crimes and language into England to which it was +previously almost a stranger--by purchasing, with paper, shares by +hundreds in the schemes to execute which he contracts, and which +are his own devising; which shares he sells as soon as they are at +a high premium, to which they are speedily forced by means of +paragraphs, inserted by himself and agents, in newspapers devoted +to his interest, utterly reckless of the terrible depreciation to +which they are almost instantly subjected. But he is worth a +million pounds, there can be no doubt of the fact--he has not made +people's fortunes, at least those whose fortunes it was said he +would make; he has made them away; but his own he has made, +emphatically made it; he is worth a million pounds. Hurrah for the +millionnaire! The clown who views the pandemonium of red brick +which he has built on the estate which he has purchased in the +neighbourhood of the place of his grand debut, in which every +species of architecture, Greek, Indian, and Chinese, is employed in +caricature--who hears of the grand entertainment he gives at +Christmas in the principal dining-room, the hundred wax-candles, +the waggon-load of plate, and the ocean of wine which form parts of +it, and above all the two ostrich poults, one at the head, and the +other at the foot of the table, exclaims, "Well! if he a'n't bang +up, I don't know who be; why he beats my lord hollow!" The +mechanic of the borough town, who sees him dashing through the +streets in an open landau, drawn by four milk-white horses, amidst +his attendant out-riders; his wife, a monster of a woman, by his +side, stout as the wife of Tamerlane, who weighed twenty stone, and +bedizened out like her whose person shone with the jewels of +plundered Persia, stares with silent wonder, and at last exclaims +"That's the man for my vote!" You tell the clown that the man of +the mansion has contributed enormously to corrupt the rural +innocence of England; you point to an incipient branch railroad, +from around which the accents of Gomorrah are sounding, and beg him +to listen for a moment, and then close his ears. Hodge scratches +his head and says, "Well, I have nothing to say to that; all I know +is, that he is bang up, and I wish I were he;" perhaps he will add- +-a Hodge has been known to add--"He has been kind enough to put my +son on that very railroad; 'tis true the company is somewhat queer, +and the work rather killing, but he gets there half-a-crown a day, +whereas from the farmers he would only get eighteen-pence." You +remind the mechanic that the man in the landau has been the ruin of +thousands and you mention people whom he himself knows, people in +various grades of life, widows and orphans amongst them, whose +little all has been dissipated, and whom he has reduced to beggary +by inducing them to become sharers in his delusive schemes. But +the mechanic says, "Well, the more fools they to let themselves be +robbed. But I don't call that kind of thing robbery, I merely call +it out-witting; and everybody in this free country has a right to +outwit others if he can. What a turn-out he has!" One was once +heard to add, "I never saw a more genteel-looking man in all my +life except one, and that was a gentleman's walley, who was much +like him. It is true that he is rather under-sized, but then +madam, you know, makes up for all." + + + +CHAPTER V + + + +Subject of Gentility continued. + + +In the last chapter have been exhibited specimens of gentility, so +considered by different classes; by one class power, youth, and +epaulets are considered the ne plus ultra of gentility; by another +class pride, stateliness, and title; by another, wealth and flaming +tawdriness. But what constitutes a gentleman? It is easy to say +at once what constitutes a gentleman, and there are no distinctions +in what is gentlemanly, {5} as there are in what is genteel. The +characteristics of a gentleman are high feeling--a determination +never to take a cowardly advantage of another--a liberal education- +-absence of narrow views--generosity and courage, propriety of +behaviour. Now a person may be genteel according to one or another +of the three standards described above, and not possess one of the +characteristics of a gentleman. Is the emperor a gentleman, with +spatters of blood on his clothes, scourged from the backs of noble +Hungarian women? Are the aristocracy gentlefolks, who admire him? +Is Mr. Flamson a gentleman, although he has a million pounds? No! +cowardly miscreants, admirers of cowardly miscreants, and people +who make a million pounds by means compared with which those +employed to make fortunes by the getters up of the South Sea Bubble +might be called honest dealing, are decidedly not gentlefolks. Now +as it is clearly demonstrable that a person may be perfectly +genteel according to some standard or other, and yet be no +gentleman, so it is demonstrable that a person may have no +pretensions to gentility, and yet be a gentleman. For example, +there is Lavengro! Would the admirers of the emperor, or the +admirers of those who admire the emperor, or the admirers of Mr. +Flamson, call him genteel? and gentility with them is everything! +Assuredly they would not; and assuredly they would consider him +respectively as a being to be shunned, despised, or hooted. +Genteel! Why at one time he is a hack author--writes reviewals for +eighteenpence a page--edits a Newgate chronicle. At another he +wanders the country with a face grimy from occasionally mending +kettles; and there is no evidence that his clothes are not seedy +and torn, and his shoes down at the heel; but by what process of +reasoning will they prove that he is no gentleman? Is he not +learned? Has he not generosity and courage? Whilst a hack author, +does he pawn the books entrusted to him to review? Does he break +his word to his publisher? Does he write begging letters? Does he +get clothes or lodgings without paying for them? Again, whilst a +wanderer, does he insult helpless women on the road with loose +proposals or ribald discourse? Does he take what is not his own +from the hedges? Does he play on the fiddle, or make faces in +public-houses, in order to obtain pence or beer? or does he call +for liquor, swallow it, and then say to a widowed landlady, +"Mistress, I have no brass?" In a word, what vice and crime does +he perpetrate--what low acts does he commit? Therefore, with his +endowments, who will venture to say that he is no gentleman?-- +unless it be an admirer of Mr. Flamson--a clown--who will, perhaps, +shout--"I say he is no gentleman; for who can be a gentleman who +keeps no gig?" + +The indifference exhibited by Lavengro for what is merely genteel, +compared with his solicitude never to infringe the strict laws of +honour, should read a salutary lesson. The generality of his +countrymen are far more careful not to transgress the customs of +what they call gentility, than to violate the laws of honour or +morality. They will shrink from carrying their own carpet-bag, and +from speaking to a person in seedy raiment, whilst to matters of +much higher importance they are shamelessly indifferent. Not so +Lavengro; he will do anything that he deems convenient, or which +strikes his fancy, provided it does not outrage decency, or is +unallied to profligacy; is not ashamed to speak to a beggar in +rags, and will associate with anybody, provided he can gratify a +laudable curiosity. He has no abstract love for what is low, or +what the world calls low. He sees that many things which the world +looks down upon are valuable, so he prizes much which the world +condemns; he sees that many things which the world admires are +contemptible, so he despises much which the world does not; but +when the world prizes what is really excellent, he does not contemn +it, because the world regards it. If he learns Irish, which all +the world scoffs at, he likewise learns Italian, which all the +world melts at. If he learns Gypsy, the language of the tattered +tent, he likewise learns Greek, the language of the college-hall. +If he learns smithery, he also learns--ah! what does he learn to +set against smithery?--the law? No; he does not learn the law, +which, by the way, is not very genteel. Swimming? Yes, he learns +to swim. Swimming, however, is not genteel; and the world--at +least the genteel part of it--acts very wisely in setting its face +against it; for to swim you must be naked, and how would many a +genteel person look without his clothes? Come, he learns +horsemanship; a very genteel accomplishment, which every genteel +person would gladly possess, though not all genteel people do. + +Again as to associates: if he holds communion when a boy with +Murtagh, the scarecrow of an Irish academy, he associates in after +life with Francis Ardry, a rich and talented young Irish gentleman +about town. If he accepts an invitation from Mr. Petulengro to his +tent, he has no objection to go home with a rich genius to dinner; +who then will say that he prizes a thing or a person because they +are ungenteel? That he is not ready to take up with everything +that is ungenteel he gives a proof, when he refuses, though on the +brink of starvation, to become bonnet to the thimble-man, an +office, which, though profitable, is positively ungenteel. Ah! but +some sticker-up for gentility will exclaim, "The hero did not +refuse this office from an insurmountable dislike to its +ungentility, but merely from a feeling of principle." Well! the +writer is not fond of argument, and he will admit that such was the +case; he admits that it was a love of principle, rather than an +over-regard for gentility, which prevented the hero from accepting, +when on the brink of starvation, an ungenteel though lucrative +office, an office which, the writer begs leave to observe, many a +person with a great regard for gentility, and no particular regard +for principle, would in a similar strait have accepted; for when +did a mere love for gentility keep a person from being a dirty +scoundrel, when the alternatives were "either be a dirty scoundrel +or starve?" One thing, however, is certain, which is, that +Lavengro did not accept the office, which if a love for what is low +had been his ruling passion he certainly would have done; +consequently, he refuses to do one thing which no genteel person +would willingly do, even as he does many things which every genteel +person would gladly do, for example, speaks Italian, rides on +horseback, associates with a fashionable young man, dines with a +rich genius, et cetera. Yet--and it cannot be minced--he and +gentility with regard to many things are at strange divergency; he +shrinks from many things at which gentility placidly hums a tune, +or approvingly simpers, and does some things at which gentility +positively shrinks. He will not run into debt for clothes or +lodgings, which he might do without any scandal to gentility; he +will not receive money from Francis Ardry, and go to Brighton with +the sister of Annette Le Noir, though there is nothing ungenteel in +borrowing money from a friend, even when you never intend to repay +him, and something poignantly genteel in going to a watering-place +with a gay young Frenchwoman; but he has no objection, after +raising twenty pounds by the sale of that extraordinary work +"Joseph Sell," to set off into the country, mend kettles under +hedge-rows, and make pony and donkey shoes in a dingle. Here, +perhaps, some plain, well-meaning person will cry--and with much +apparent justice--how can the writer justify him in this act? What +motive, save a love for what is low, could induce him to do such a +thing? Would the writer have everybody who is in need of +recreation go into the country, mend kettles under hedges, and make +pony shoes in dingles? To such an observation the writer would +answer, that Lavengro had an excellent motive in doing what he did, +but that the writer is not so unreasonable as to wish everybody to +do the same. It is not everybody who can mend kettles. It is not +everybody who is in similar circumstances to those in which +Lavengro was. Lavengro flies from London and hack authorship, and +takes to the roads from fear of consumption; it is expensive to put +up at inns, and even at public-houses, and Lavengro has not much +money; so he buys a tinker's cart and apparatus, and sets up as +tinker, and subsequently as blacksmith; a person living in a tent, +or in anything else, must do something or go mad; Lavengro had a +mind, as he himself well knew, with some slight tendency to +madness, and had he not employed himself, he must have gone wild; +so to employ himself he drew upon one of his resources, the only +one available at the time. Authorship had nearly killed him, he +was sick of reading, and had besides no books; but he possessed the +rudiments of an art akin to tinkering; he knew something of +smithery, having served a kind of apprenticeship in Ireland to a +fairy smith; so he draws upon his smithery to enable him to acquire +tinkering, he speedily acquires that craft, even as he had speedily +acquired Welsh, owing to its connection with Irish, which language +he possessed; and with tinkering he amuses himself until he lays it +aside to resume smithery. A man who has an innocent resource, has +quite as much right to draw upon it in need, as he has upon a +banker in whose hands he has placed a sum; Lavengro turns to +advantage, under particular circumstances, a certain resource which +he has, but people who are not so forlorn as Lavengro, and have not +served the same apprenticeship which he had, are not advised to +follow his example. Surely he was better employed in plying the +trades of tinker and smith than in having recourse to vice, in +running after milk-maids, for example. Running after milk-maids is +by no means an ungenteel rural diversion; but let any one ask some +respectable casuist (the Bishop of London for example), whether +Lavengro was not far better employed, when in the country, at +tinkering and smithery than he would have been in running after all +the milk-maids in Cheshire, though tinkering is in general +considered a very ungenteel employment, and smithery little better, +notwithstanding that an Orcadian poet, who wrote in Norse about +eight hundred years ago, reckons the latter among nine noble arts +which he possessed, naming it along with playing at chess, on the +harp, and ravelling runes, or as the original has it, "treading +runes"--that is, compressing them into a small compass by mingling +one letter with another, even as the Turkish caligraphists ravel +the Arabic letters, more especially those who write talismans. + + +"Nine arts have I, all noble; +I play at chess so free, +At ravelling runes I'm ready, +At books and smithery; +I'm skilled o'er ice at skimming +On skates, I shoot and row, +And few at harping match me, +Or minstrelsy, I trow." + + +But though Lavengro takes up smithery, which, though the Orcadian +ranks it with chess-playing and harping, is certainly somewhat of a +grimy art, there can be no doubt that, had he been wealthy and not +so forlorn as he was, he would have turned to many things, +honourable, of course, in preference. He has no objection to ride +a fine horse when he has the opportunity: he has his day-dream of +making a fortune of two hundred thousand pounds by becoming a +merchant and doing business after the Armenian fashion; and there +can be no doubt that he would have been glad to wear fine clothes, +provided he had had sufficient funds to authorize him in wearing +them. For the sake of wandering the country and plying the hammer +and tongs, he would not have refused a commission in the service of +that illustrious monarch George the Fourth, provided he had thought +that he could live on his pay, and not be forced to run in debt to +tradesmen, without any hope of paying them, for clothes and +luxuries, as many highly genteel officers in that honourable +service were in the habit of doing. For the sake of tinkering, he +would certainly not have refused a secretaryship of an embassy to +Persia, in which he might have turned his acquaintance with +Persian, Arabic, and the Lord only knows what other languages, to +account. He took to tinkering and smithery, because no better +employments were at his command. No war is waged in the book +against rank, wealth, fine clothes, or dignified employments; it is +shown, however, that a person may be a gentleman and a scholar +without them. Rank, wealth, fine clothes, and dignified +employments, are no doubt very fine things, but they are merely +externals, they do not make a gentleman, they add external grace +and dignity to the gentleman and scholar, but they make neither; +and is it not better to be a gentleman without them than not a +gentleman with them? Is not Lavengro, when he leaves London on +foot with twenty pounds in his pocket, entitled to more respect +than Mr. Flamson flaming in his coach with a million? And is not +even the honest jockey at Horncastle, who offers a fair price to +Lavengro for his horse, entitled to more than the scoundrel lord, +who attempts to cheat him of one-fourth of its value? + +Millions, however, seem to think otherwise, by their servile +adoration of people whom without rank, wealth, and fine clothes +they would consider infamous, but whom possessed of rank, wealth, +and glittering habiliments they seem to admire all the more for +their profligacy and crimes. Does not a blood-spot, or a lust- +spot, on the clothes of a blooming emperor, give a kind of zest to +the genteel young god? Do not the pride, superciliousness, and +selfishness of a certain aristocracy make it all the more regarded +by its worshippers? and do not the clownish and gutter-blood +admirers of Mr. Flamson like him all the more because they are +conscious that he is a knave? If such is the case --and, alas! is +it not the case?--they cannot be too frequently told that fine +clothes, wealth, and titles adorn a person in proportion as he +adorns them; that if worn by the magnanimous and good they are +ornaments indeed, but if by the vile and profligate they are merely +san benitos, and only serve to make their infamy doubly apparent; +and that a person in seedy raiment and tattered hat, possessed of +courage, kindness, and virtue, is entitled to more respect from +those to whom his virtues are manifested than any cruel profligate +emperor, selfish aristocrat, or knavish millionaire in the world. + +The writer has no intention of saying that all in England are +affected with the absurd mania for gentility; nor is such a +statement made in the book; it is shown therein that individuals of +certain classes can prize a gentleman, notwithstanding seedy +raiment, dusty shoes or tattered hat,--for example, the young +Irishman, the rich genius, the postillion, and his employer. +Again, when the life of the hero is given to the world, amidst the +howl about its lowness and vulgarity, raised by the servile crew +whom its independence of sentiment has stung, more than one +powerful voice has been heard testifying approbation of its +learning and the purity of its morality. That there is some salt +in England, minds not swayed by mere externals, he is fully +convinced; if he were not, he would spare himself the trouble of +writing; but to the fact that the generality of his countrymen are +basely grovelling before the shrine of what they are pleased to +call gentility, he cannot shut his eyes. + + Oh! what a clever person that Cockney was, who, travelling in the +Aberdeen railroad carriage, after edifying the company with his +remarks on various subjects, gave it as his opinion that Lieutenant +P--- would, in future, be shunned by all respectable society! And +what a simple person that elderly gentleman was, who, abruptly +starting, asked in rather an authoritative voice, "and why should +Lieutenant P--- be shunned by respectable society?" and who, after +entering into what was said to be a masterly analysis of the entire +evidence of the case, concluded by stating, "that having been +accustomed to all kinds of evidence all his life, he had never +known a case in which the accused had obtained a more complete and +triumphant justification than Lieutenant P--- had done in the late +trial." + +Now the Cockney, who is said to have been a very foppish Cockney, +was perfectly right in what he said, and therein manifested a +knowledge of the English mind and character, and likewise of the +modern English language, to which his catechist, who, it seems, was +a distinguished member of the Scottish bar, could lay no +pretensions. The Cockney knew what the Lord of Session knew not, +that the British public is gentility crazy, and he knew, moreover, +that gentility and respectability are synonymous. No one in +England is genteel or respectable that is "looked at," who is the +victim of oppression; he may be pitied for a time, but when did not +pity terminate in contempt? A poor, harmless young officer--but +why enter into the details of the infamous case? they are but too +well known, and if ever cruelty, pride, and cowardice, and things +much worse than even cruelty, cowardice, and pride were brought to +light, and, at the same time, countenanced, they were in that case. +What availed the triumphant justification of the poor victim? +There was at first a roar of indignation against his oppressors, +but how long did it last? He had been turned out of the service, +they remained in it with their red coats and epaulets; he was +merely the son of a man who had rendered good service to his +country, they were, for the most part, highly connected--they were +in the extremest degree genteel, he quite the reverse; so the +nation wavered, considered, thought the genteel side was the safest +after all, and then with the cry of, "Oh! there is nothing like +gentility," ratted bodily. Newspaper and public turned against the +victim, scouted him, apologized for the--what should they be +called?--who were not only admitted into the most respectable +society, but courted to come, the spots not merely of wine on their +military clothes, giving them a kind of poignancy. But there is a +God in heaven; the British glories are tarnished--Providence has +never smiled on British arms since that case--oh! Balaklava! thy +name interpreted is net of fishes, and well dost thou deserve that +name. How many a scarlet golden fish has of late perished in the +mud amidst thee, cursing the genteel service, and the genteel +leader which brought him to such a doom. + +Whether the rage for gentility is most prevalent amongst the upper, +middle, or lower classes it is difficult to say; the priest in the +text seems to think that it is exhibited in the most decided manner +in the middle class; it is the writer's opinion, however, that in +no class is it more strongly developed than in the lower: what +they call being well-born goes a great way amongst them, but the +possession of money much farther, whence Mr. Flamson's influence +over them. Their rage against, and scorn for, any person who by +his courage and talents has advanced himself in life, and still +remains poor, are indescribable; "he is no better than ourselves," +they say, "why should he be above us?"--for they have no conception +that anybody has a right to ascendency over themselves except by +birth or money. This feeling amongst the vulgar has been, to a +certain extent, the bane of two services, naval and military. The +writer does not make this assertion rashly; he observed this +feeling at work in the army when a child, and he has good reason +for believing that it was as strongly at work in the navy at the +same time, and is still as prevalent in both. Why are not brave +men raised from the ranks? is frequently the cry; why are not brave +sailors promoted? The Lord help brave soldiers and sailors who are +promoted; they have less to undergo from the high airs of their +brother officers, and those are hard enough to endure, than from +the insolence of the men. Soldiers and sailors promoted to command +are said to be in general tyrants; in nine cases out of ten, when +they are tyrants, they have been obliged to have recourse to +extreme severity in order to protect themselves from the insolence +and mutinous spirit of the men,--"He is no better than ourselves: +shoot him, bayonet him, or fling him overboard!" they say of some +obnoxious individual raised above them by his merit. Soldiers and +sailors, in general, will bear any amount of tyranny from a lordly +sot, or the son of a man who has "plenty of brass"--their own term- +-but will mutiny against the just orders of a skilful and brave +officer who "is no better than themselves." There was the affair +of the "Bounty," for example: Bligh was one of the best seamen +that ever trod deck, and one of the bravest of men; proofs of his +seamanship he gave by steering, amidst dreadful weather, a deeply- +laden boat for nearly four thousand miles over an almost unknown +ocean--of his bravery, at the fight of Copenhagen, one of the most +desperate ever fought, of which after Nelson he was the hero: he +was, moreover, not an unkind man; but the crew of the "Bounty" +mutinied against him, and set him half naked in an open boat, with +certain of his men who remained faithful to him, and ran away with +the ship. Their principal motive for doing so was an idea, whether +true or groundless the writer cannot say, that Bligh was "no better +than themselves;" he was certainly neither a lord's illegitimate, +nor possessed of twenty thousand pounds. The writer knows what he +is writing about, having been acquainted in his early years with an +individual who was turned adrift with Bligh, and who died about the +year '22, a lieutenant in the navy, in a provincial town in which +the writer was brought up. The ringleaders in the mutiny were two +scoundrels, Christian and Young, who had great influence with the +crew, because they were genteelly connected. Bligh, after leaving +the "Bounty," had considerable difficulty in managing the men who +had shared his fate, because they considered themselves "as good +men as he," notwithstanding, that to his conduct and seamanship +they had alone to look, under Heaven, for salvation from the +ghastly perils that surrounded them. Bligh himself, in his +journal, alludes to this feeling. Once, when he and his companions +landed on a desert island, one of them said, with a mutinous look, +that he considered himself "as good a man as he;" Bligh, seizing a +cutlass, called upon him to take another and defend himself, +whereupon the man said that Bligh was going to kill him, and made +all manner of concessions; now why did this fellow consider himself +as good a man as Bligh? Was he as good a seaman? no, nor a tenth +part as good. As brave a man? no, nor a tenth part as brave; and +of these facts he was perfectly well aware, but bravery and +seamanship stood for nothing with him, as they still stand with +thousands of his class; Bligh was not genteel by birth or money, +therefore Bligh was no better than himself. Had Bligh, before he +sailed, got a twenty-thousand pound prize in the lottery, he would +have experienced no insolence from this fellow, for there would +have been no mutiny in the "Bounty." "He is our betters," the crew +would have said, "and it is our duty to obey him." + +The wonderful power of gentility in England is exemplified in +nothing more than in what it is producing amongst Jews, Gypsies, +and Quakers. It is breaking up their venerable communities. All +the better, some one will say. Alas! alas! It is making the +wealthy Jews forsake the synagogue for the opera-house, or the +gentility chapel, in which a disciple of Mr. Platitude, in a white +surplice, preaches a sermon at noon-day from a desk, on each side +of which is a flaming taper. It is making them abandon their +ancient literature, their "Mischna," their "Gemara," their "Zohar," +for gentility novels, "The Young Duke," the most unexceptionably +genteel book ever written, being the principal favourite. It makes +the young Jew ashamed of the young Jewess, it makes her ashamed of +the young Jew. The young Jew marries an opera-dancer, or if the +dancer will not have him, as is frequently the case, the cast-off +Miss of the Honourable Spencer So-and-so. It makes the young +Jewess accept the honourable offer of a cashiered lieutenant of the +Bengal Native Infantry; or, if such a person does not come forward, +the dishonourable offer of a cornet of a regiment of crack hussars. +It makes poor Jews, male and female, forsake the synagogue for the +sixpenny theatre or penny hop; the Jew to take up with an Irish +female of loose character, and the Jewess with a musician of the +Guards, or the Tipperary servant of Captain Mulligan. With respect +to the gypsies, it is making the women what they never were before- +-harlots; and the men what they never were before--careless fathers +and husbands. It has made the daughter of Ursula the chaste take +up with the base drummer of a wild-beast show. It makes Gorgiko +Brown, the gypsy man, leave his tent and his old wife, of an +evening, and thrust himself into society which could well dispense +with him. "Brother," said Mr. Petulengro to the Romany Rye, after +telling him many things connected with the decadence of gypsyism, +"there is one Gorgiko Brown, who, with a face as black as a tea- +kettle, wishes to be mistaken for a Christian tradesman; he goes +into the parlour of a third-rate inn of an evening, calls for rum +and water, and attempts to enter into conversation with the company +about politics and business; the company flout him and give him the +cold shoulder, or perhaps complain to the landlord, who comes and +asks him what business he has in the parlour, telling him if he +wants to drink to go into the tap-room, and perhaps collars him and +kicks him out, provided he refuses to move." With respect to the +Quakers, it makes the young people like the young Jews, crazy after +gentility diversions, worship, marriages, or connections, and makes +old Pease do what it makes Gorgiko Brown do, thrust himself into +society which could well dispense with him, and out of which he is +not kicked, because unlike the gypsy he is not poor. The writer +would say much more on these points, but want of room prevents him; +he must therefore request the reader to have patience until he can +lay before the world a pamphlet, which he has been long meditating, +to be entitled "Remarks on the strikingly similar Effects which a +Love for Gentility has produced, and is producing, amongst Jews, +Gypsies, and Quakers." + +The Priest in the book has much to say on the subject of this +gentility-nonsense; no person can possibly despise it more +thoroughly than that very remarkable individual seems to do, yet he +hails its prevalence with pleasure, knowing the benefits which will +result from it to the church of which he is the sneering slave. +"The English are mad after gentility," says he; "well, all the +better for us; their religion for a long time past has been a plain +and simple one, and consequently by no means genteel; they'll quit +it for ours, which is the perfection of what they admire; with +which Templars, Hospitalers, mitred abbots, Gothic abbeys, long- +drawn aisles, golden censers, incense, et cetera, are connected; +nothing, or next to nothing, of Christ, it is true, but weighed in +the balance against gentility, where will Christianity be? why, +kicking against the beam--ho! ho!" And in connection with the +gentility-nonsense, he expatiates largely, and with much contempt, +on a species of literature by which the interests of his church in +England have been very much advanced--all genuine priests have a +thorough contempt for everything which tends to advance the +interests of their church--this literature is made up of pseudo +Jacobitism, Charlie o'er the waterism, or nonsense about Charlie +o'er the water. And the writer will now take the liberty of saying +a few words about it on his own account. + + + +CHAPTER VI + + + +On Scotch Gentility-Nonsense--Charlie o'er the Waterism. + + +Of the literature just alluded to Scott was the inventor. It is +founded on the fortunes and misfortunes of the Stuart family, of +which Scott was the zealous defender and apologist, doing all that +in his power lay to represent the members of it as noble, +chivalrous, high-minded, unfortunate princes; though, perhaps, of +all the royal families that ever existed upon the earth, this +family was the worst. It was unfortunate enough, it is true; but +it owed its misfortunes entirely to its crimes, viciousness, bad +faith, and cowardice. Nothing will be said of it here until it +made its appearance in England to occupy the English throne. + +The first of the family which we have to do with, James, was a +dirty, cowardly miscreant, of whom the less said the better. His +son, Charles the First, was a tyrant--exceedingly cruel and +revengeful, but weak and dastardly; he caused a poor fellow to be +hanged in London, who was not his subject, because he had heard +that the unfortunate creature had once bitten his own glove at +Cadiz, in Spain, at the mention of his name; and he permitted his +own bull-dog, Strafford, to be executed by his own enemies, though +the only crime of Strafford was, that he had barked furiously at +those enemies, and had worried two or three of them, when Charles +shouted, "Fetch 'em." He was a bitter, but yet a despicable enemy, +and the coldest and most worthless of friends; for though he always +hoped to be able, some time or other, to hang his enemies, he was +always ready to curry favour with them, more especially if he could +do so at the expense of his friends. He was the haughtiest, yet +meanest of mankind. He once caned a young nobleman for appearing +before him in the drawing-room not dressed exactly according to the +court etiquette; yet he condescended to flatter and compliment him +who, from principle, was his bitterest enemy, namely, Harrison, +when the republican colonel was conducting him as a prisoner to +London. His bad faith was notorious; it was from abhorrence of the +first public instance which he gave of his bad faith, his breaking +his word to the Infanta of Spain, that the poor Hiberno-Spaniard +bit his glove at Cadiz; and it was his notorious bad faith which +eventually cost him his head; for the Republicans would gladly have +spared him, provided they could put the slightest confidence in any +promise, however solemn, which he might have made to them. Of +them, it would be difficult to say whether they most hated or +despised him. Religion he had none. One day he favoured Popery; +the next, on hearing certain clamours of the people, he sent his +wife's domestics back packing to France, because they were Papists. +Papists, however, should make him a saint, for he was certainly the +cause of the taking of Rochelle. + +His son, Charles the Second, though he passed his youth in the +school of adversity, learned no other lesson from it than the +following one--take care of yourself, and never do an action, +either good or bad, which is likely to bring you into any great +difficulty; and this maxim he acted up to as soon as he came to the +throne. He was a Papist, but took especial care not to acknowledge +his religion, at which he frequently scoffed, till just before his +last gasp, when he knew that he could lose nothing, and hoped to +gain everything by it. He was always in want of money, but took +care not to tax the country beyond all endurable bounds; preferring +to such a bold and dangerous course, to become the pensioner of +Louis, to whom, in return for his gold, he sacrificed the honour +and interests of Britain. He was too lazy and sensual to delight +in playing the part of a tyrant himself; but he never checked +tyranny in others save in one instance. He permitted beastly +butchers to commit unmentionable horrors on the feeble, unarmed, +and disunited Covenanters of Scotland, but checked them when they +would fain have endeavoured to play the same game on the numerous +united, dogged, and warlike Independents of England. To show his +filial piety, he bade the hangman dishonour the corpses of some of +his father's judges, before whom, when alive, he ran like a +screaming hare; but permitted those who had lost their all in +supporting his father's cause, to pine in misery and want. He +would give to a painted harlot a thousand pounds for a loathsome +embrace, and to a player or buffoon a hundred for a trumpery pun, +but would refuse a penny to the widow or orphan of an old Royalist +soldier. He was the personification of selfishness; and as he +loved and cared for no one, so did no one love or care for him. So +little had he gained the respect or affection of those who +surrounded him, that after his body had undergone an after-death +examination, parts of it were thrown down the sinks of the palace, +to become eventually the prey of the swine and ducks of +Westminster. + +His brother, who succeeded him, James the Second, was a Papist, but +sufficiently honest to acknowledge his Popery, but upon the whole, +he was a poor creature; though a tyrant, he was cowardly, had he +not been a coward he would never have lost his throne. There were +plenty of lovers of tyranny in England who would have stood by him, +provided he would have stood by them, and would, though not +Papists, have encouraged him in his attempt to bring back England +beneath the sway of Rome, and perhaps would eventually have become +Papists themselves; but the nation raising a cry against him, and +his son-in-law, the Prince of Orange, invading the country, he +forsook his friends, of whom he had a host, but for whom he cared +little--left his throne, for which he cared a great deal--and +Popery in England, for which he cared yet more, to their fate, and +escaped to France, from whence, after taking a little heart, he +repaired to Ireland, where he was speedily joined by a gallant army +of Papists whom he basely abandoned at the Boyne, running away in a +most lamentable condition, at the time when by showing a little +courage he might have enabled them to conquer. This worthy, in his +last will, bequeathed his heart to England--his right arm to +Scotland--and his bowels to Ireland. What the English and Scotch +said to their respective bequests is not known, but it is certain +that an old Irish priest, supposed to have been a great-grand-uncle +of the present Reverend Father Murtagh, on hearing of the bequest +to Ireland, fell into a great passion, and having been brought up +at "Paris and Salamanca," expressed his indignation in the +following strain:- "Malditas sean tus tripas! teniamos bastante del +olor de tus tripas al tiempo de tu nuida dela batalla del Boyne!" + +His son, generally called the Old Pretender, though born in +England, was carried in his infancy to France, where he was brought +up in the strictest principles of Popery, which principles, +however, did not prevent him becoming (when did they ever prevent +any one?) a worthless and profligate scoundrel; there are some +doubts as to the reality of his being a son of James, which doubts +are probably unfounded, the grand proof of his legitimacy being the +thorough baseness of his character. It was said of his father that +he could speak well, and it may be said of him that he could write +well, the only thing he could do which was worth doing, always +supposing that there is any merit in being able to write. He was +of a mean appearance, and, like his father, pusillanimous to a +degree. The meanness of his appearance disgusted, and his +pusillanimity discouraged the Scotch when he made his appearance +amongst them in the year 1715, some time after the standard of +rebellion had been hoisted by Mar. He only stayed a short time in +Scotland, and then, seized with panic, retreated to France, leaving +his friends to shift for themselves as they best could. He died a +pensioner of the Pope. + +The son of this man, Charles Edward, of whom so much in later years +has been said and written, was a worthless ignorant youth, and a +profligate and illiterate old man. When young, the best that can +be said of him is, that he had occasionally springs of courage, +invariably at the wrong time and place, which merely served to lead +his friends into inextricable difficulties. When old, he was +loathsome and contemptible to both friend and foe. His wife +loathed him, and for the most terrible of reasons; she did not +pollute his couch, for to do that was impossible--he had made it so +vile; but she betrayed it, inviting to it not only Alfieri the +Filthy, but the coarsest grooms. Doctor King, the warmest and +almost last adherent of his family, said, that there was not a vice +or crime of which he was not guilty; as for his foes, they scorned +to harm him even when in their power. In the year 1745 he came +down from the Highlands of Scotland, which had long been a focus of +rebellion. He was attended by certain clans of the Highlands, +desperadoes used to free-bootery from their infancy, and, +consequently, to the use of arms, and possessed of a certain +species of discipline; with these he defeated at Prestonpans a body +of men called soldiers, but who were in reality peasants and +artizans, levied about a month before, without discipline or +confidence in each other, and who were miserably massacred by the +Highland army; he subsequently invaded England, nearly destitute of +regular soldiers, and penetrated as far as Derby, from which place +he retreated on learning that regular forces which had been hastily +recalled from Flanders were coming against him, with the Duke of +Cumberland at their head; he was pursued, and his rearguard +overtaken and defeated by the dragoons of the duke at Clifton, from +which place the rebels retreated in great confusion across the Eden +into Scotland, where they commenced dancing Highland reels and +strathspeys on the bank of the river, for joy at their escape, +whilst a number of wretched girls, paramours of some of them, were +perishing in the waters of the swollen river in an attempt to +follow them; they themselves passed over by eighties and by +hundreds, arm in arm, for mutual safety, without the loss of a man, +but they left the poor paramours to shift for themselves, nor did +any of these canny people after passing the stream dash back to +rescue a single female life,--no, they were too well employed upon +the bank in dancing strathspeys to the tune of "Charlie o'er the +water." It was, indeed, Charlie o'er the water, and canny +Highlanders o'er the water, but where were the poor prostitutes +meantime? IN THE WATER. + +The Jacobite farce, or tragedy, was speedily brought to a close by +the battle of Culloden; there did Charlie wish himself back again +o'er the water, exhibiting the most unmistakable signs of +pusillanimity; there were the clans cut to pieces, at least those +who could be brought to the charge, and there fell Giles Mac Bean, +or as he was called in Gaelic, Giliosa Mac Beathan, a kind of +giant, six feet four inches and a quarter high, "than whom," as his +wife said in a coronach she made upon him, "no man who stood at +Cuiloitr was taller"--Giles Mac Bean the Major of the clan Cattan-- +a great drinker--a great fisher--a great shooter, and the champion +of the Highland host. + +The last of the Stuarts was a cardinal. + +Such were the Stuarts, such their miserable history. They were +dead and buried in every sense of the word until Scott resuscitated +them--how? by the power of fine writing and by calling to his aid +that strange divinity, gentility. He wrote splendid novels about +the Stuarts, in which he represents them as unlike what they really +were as the graceful and beautiful papillon is unlike the hideous +and filthy worm. In a word, he made them genteel, and that was +enough to give them paramount sway over the minds of the British +people. The public became Stuart-mad, and everybody, specially the +women, said, "What a pity it was that we hadn't a Stuart to +govern." All parties, Whig, Tory, or Radical, became Jacobite at +heart, and admirers of absolute power. The Whigs talked about the +liberty of the subject, and the Radicals about the rights of man +still, but neither party cared a straw for what it talked about, +and mentally swore that, as soon as by means of such stuff they +could get places, and fill their pockets, they would be as Jacobite +as the Jacobs themselves. As for Tories, no great change in them +was necessary; everything favouring absolutism and slavery being +congenial to them. So the whole nation, that is, the reading part +of the nation, with some exceptions, for thank God there has always +been some salt in England, went over the water to Charlie. But +going over to Charlie was not enough, they must, or at least a +considerable part of them, go over to Rome too, or have a hankering +to do so. As the Priest sarcastically observes in the text, "As +all the Jacobs were Papists, so the good folks who through Scott's +novels admire the Jacobs must be Papists too." An idea got about +that the religion of such genteel people as the Stuarts must be the +climax of gentility, and that idea was quite sufficient. Only let +a thing, whether temporal or spiritual, be considered genteel in +England, and if it be not followed it is strange indeed; so Scott's +writings not only made the greater part of the nation Jacobite, but +Popish. + +Here some people will exclaim--whose opinions remain sound and +uncontaminated--what you say is perhaps true with respect to the +Jacobite nonsense at present so prevalent being derived from +Scott's novels, but the Popish nonsense, which people of the +genteeler classes are so fond of, is derived from Oxford. We sent +our sons to Oxford nice honest lads, educated in the principles of +the Church of England, and at the end of the first term they came +home puppies, talking Popish nonsense, which they had learned from +the pedants to whose care we had entrusted them; ay, not only +Popery but Jacobitism, which they hardly carried with them from +home, for we never heard them talking Jacobitism before they had +been at Oxford; but now their conversation is a farrago of Popish +and Jacobite stuff--"Complines and Claverse." Now, what these +honest folks say is, to a certain extent, founded on fact; the +Popery which has overflowed the land during the last fourteen or +fifteen years, has come immediately from Oxford, and likewise some +of the Jacobitism, Popish and Jacobite nonsense, and little or +nothing else, having been taught at Oxford for about that number of +years. But whence did the pedants get the Popish nonsense with +which they have corrupted youth? Why, from the same quarter from +which they got the Jacobite nonsense with which they have +inoculated those lads who were not inoculated with it before-- +Scott's novels. Jacobitism and Laudism, a kind of half Popery, had +at one time been very prevalent at Oxford, but both had been long +consigned to oblivion there, and people at Oxford cared as little +about Laud as they did about the Pretender. Both were dead and +buried there, as everywhere else, till Scott called them out of +their graves, when the pedants of Oxford hailed both--ay, and the +Pope, too, as soon as Scott had made the old fellow fascinating, +through particular novels, more especially the "Monastery" and +"Abbot." Then the quiet, respectable, honourable Church of England +would no longer do for the pedants of Oxford; they must belong to a +more genteel church--they were ashamed at first to be downright +Romans--so they would be Lauds. The pale-looking, but exceedingly +genteel non-juring clergyman in Waverley was a Laud; but they soon +became tired of being Lauds, for Laud's Church, gew-gawish and +idolatrous as it was, was not sufficiently tinselly and idolatrous +for them, so they must be Popes, but in a sneaking way, still +calling themselves Church-of-England men, in order to batten on the +bounty of the church which they were betraying, and likewise have +opportunities of corrupting such lads as might still resort to +Oxford with principles uncontaminated. + +So the respectable people, whose opinions are still sound, are, to +a certain extent, right when they say that the tide of Popery, +which has flowed over the land, has come from Oxford. It did come +immediately from Oxford, but how did it get to Oxford? Why, from +Scott's novels. Oh! that sermon which was the first manifestation +of Oxford feeling, preached at Oxford some time in the year '38 by +a divine of a weak and confused intellect, in which Popery was +mixed up with Jacobitism! The present writer remembers perfectly +well, on reading some extracts from it at the time in a newspaper, +on the top of a coach, exclaiming--"Why, the simpleton has been +pilfering from Walter Scott's novels!" + +O Oxford pedants! Oxford pedants! ye whose politics and religion +are both derived from Scott's novels! what a pity it is that some +lad of honest parents, whose mind ye are endeavouring to stultify +with your nonsense about "Complines and Claverse," has not the +spirit to start up and cry, "Confound your gibberish! I'll have +none of it. Hurrah for the Church, and the principles of my +FATHER!" + + + +CHAPTER VII + + + +Same Subject continued. + + +Now what could have induced Scott to write novels tending to make +people Papists and Jacobites, and in love with arbitrary power? +Did he think that Christianity was a gaudy mummery? He did not, he +could not, for he had read the Bible; yet was he fond of gaudy +mummeries, fond of talking about them. Did he believe that the +Stuarts were a good family, and fit to govern a country like +Britain? He knew that they were a vicious, worthless crew, and +that Britain was a degraded country as long as they swayed the +sceptre; but for those facts he cared nothing, they governed in a +way which he liked, for he had an abstract love of despotism, and +an abhorrence of everything savouring of freedom and the rights of +man in general. His favourite political picture was a joking, +profligate, careless king, nominally absolute--the heads of great +houses paying court to, but in reality governing, that king, whilst +revelling with him on the plunder of a nation, and a set of +crouching, grovelling vassals (the literal meaning of vassal is a +wretch), who, after allowing themselves to be horsewhipped, would +take a bone if flung to them, and be grateful; so that in love with +mummery, though he knew what Christianity was, no wonder he admired +such a church as that of Rome, and that which Laud set up; and by +nature formed to be the holder of the candle to ancient worm-eaten +and profligate families, no wonder that all his sympathies were +with the Stuarts and their dissipated insolent party, and all his +hatred directed against those who endeavoured to check them in +their proceedings, and to raise the generality of mankind something +above a state of vassalage, that is, wretchedness. Those who were +born great, were, if he could have had his will, always to remain +great, however worthless their characters. Those who were born +low, were always to remain so, however great their talents; though, +if that rule were carried out, where would he have been himself? + +In the book which he called the "History of Napoleon Bonaparte," in +which he plays the sycophant to all the legitimate crowned heads in +Europe, whatever their crimes, vices, or miserable imbecilities, +he, in his abhorrence of everything low which by its own vigour +makes itself illustrious, calls Murat of the sabre the son of a +pastry-cook, of a Marseilleise pastry-cook. It is a pity that +people who give themselves hoity-toity airs--and the Scotch in +general are wonderfully addicted to giving themselves hoity-toity +airs, and checking people better than themselves with their birth +{6} and their country--it is a great pity that such people do not +look at home-son of a pastry-cook, of a Marseilleise pastry-cook! +Well, and what was Scott himself? Why, son of a pettifogger, of an +Edinburgh pettifogger. "Oh, but Scott was descended from the old +cow-stealers of Buccleuch, and therefore--" descended from old cow- +stealers, was he? Well, had he nothing to boast of beyond such a +pedigree, he would have lived and died the son of a pettifogger, +and been forgotten, and deservedly so; but he possessed talents, +and by his talents rose like Murat, and like him will be remembered +for his talents alone, and deservedly so. "Yes, but Murat was +still the son of a pastry-cook, and though he was certainly good at +the sabre, and cut his way to a throne, still--" Lord! what fools +there are in the world; but as no one can be thought anything of in +this world without a pedigree, the writer will now give a pedigree +for Murat, of a very different character from the cow-stealing one +of Scott, but such a one as the proudest he might not disdain to +claim. Scott was descended from the old cow-stealers of Buccleuch- +-was he? Good! and Murat was descended from the old Moors of +Spain, from the Abencerages (sons of the saddle) of Granada. The +name Murat is Arabic, and is the same as Murad (Le Desire, or the +wished-for one). Scott in his genteel Life of Bonaparte, says that +"when Murat was in Egypt, the similarity between the name of the +celebrated Mameluke Mourad and that of Bonaparte's Meilleur Sabreur +was remarked, and became the subject of jest amongst the comrades +of the gallant Frenchman." But the writer of the novel of +Bonaparte did not know that the names were one and the same. Now +which was the best pedigree, that of the son of the pastry-cook, or +that of the son of the pettifogger? Which was the best blood? Let +us observe the workings of the two bloods. He who had the blood of +the "sons of the saddle" in him, became the wonderful cavalier of +the most wonderful host that ever went forth to conquest, won for +himself a crown, and died the death of a soldier, leaving behind +him a son, only inferior to himself in strength, in prowess, and in +horsemanship. The descendant of the cow-stealer became a poet, a +novel writer, the panegyrist of great folk and genteel people; +became insolvent because, though an author, he deemed it ungenteel +to be mixed up with the business part of the authorship; died +paralytic and broken-hearted because he could no longer give +entertainments to great folks, leaving behind him, amongst other +children, who were never heard of, a son, who, through his father's +interest, had become lieutenant-colonel in a genteel cavalry +regiment. A son who was ashamed of his father because his father +was an author; a son who--paugh--why ask which was the best blood? + +So, owing to his rage for gentility, Scott must needs become the +apologist of the Stuarts and their party; but God made this man pay +dearly for taking the part of the wicked against the good; for +lauding up to the skies the miscreants and robbers, and +calumniating the noble spirits of Britain, the salt of England, and +his own country. As God had driven the Stuarts from their throne, +and their followers from their estates, making them vagabonds and +beggars on the face of the earth, taking from them all that they +cared for, so did that same God, who knows perfectly well how and +where to strike, deprive the apologist of that wretched crew of all +that rendered life pleasant in his eyes, the lack of which +paralysed him in body and mind, rendered him pitiable to others, +loathsome to himself,--so much so, that he once said, "Where is the +beggar who would change places with me, notwithstanding all my +fame?" Ah! God knows perfectly well how to strike. He permitted +him to retain all his literary fame to the very last--his literary +fame for which he cared nothing; but what became of the sweetness +of life, his fine house, his grand company, and his entertainments? +The grand house ceased to be his; he was only permitted to live in +it on sufferance, and whatever grandeur it might still retain, it +soon became as desolate a looking house as any misanthrope could +wish to see--where were the grand entertainments and the grand +company? there are no grand entertainments where there is no money; +no lords and ladies where there are no entertainments--and there +lay the poor lodger in the desolate house, groaning on a bed no +longer his, smitten by the hand of God in the part where he was +most vulnerable. Of what use telling such a man to take comfort, +for he had written the "Minstrel" and "Rob Roy,"--telling him to +think of his literary fame? Literary fame, indeed! he wanted back +his lost gentility:- + + +"Retain my altar, +I care nothing for it--but, oh! touch not my BEARD." +PORNY'S War of the Gods. + + +He dies, his children die too, and then comes the crowning judgment +of God on what remains of his race and the house which he had +built. He was not a Papist himself, nor did he wish any one +belonging to him to be Popish, for he had read enough of the Bible +to know that no one can be saved through Popery, yet had he a +sneaking affection for it, and would at times in an underhand +manner, give it a good word both in writing and discourse, because +it was a gaudy kind of worship, and ignorance and vassalage +prevailed so long as it flourished--but he certainly did not wish +any of his people to become Papists, nor the house which he had +built to become a Popish house, though the very name he gave it +savoured of Popery; but Popery becomes fashionable through his +novels and poems--the only one that remains of his race, a female +grandchild, marries a person who, following the fashion, becomes a +Papist, and makes her a Papist too. Money abounds with the +husband, who buys the house, and then the house becomes the rankest +Popish house in Britain. A superstitious person might almost +imagine that one of the old Scottish Covenanters, whilst the grand +house was being built from the profits resulting from the sale of +writings favouring Popery and persecution, and calumniatory of +Scotland's saints and martyrs, had risen from the grave, and banned +Scott, his race, and his house, by reading a certain psalm. + +In saying what he has said about Scott, the author has not been +influenced by any feeling of malice or ill-will, but simply by a +regard for truth, and a desire to point out to his countrymen the +harm which has resulted from the perusal of his works;--he is not +one of those who would depreciate the talents of Scott--he admires +his talents, both as a prose writer and a poet; as a poet +especially he admires him, and believes him to have been by far the +greatest, with perhaps the exception of Mickiewicz, who only wrote +for unfortunate Poland, that Europe has given birth to during the +last hundred years. As a prose writer he admires him, less, it is +true, but his admiration for him in that capacity is very high, and +he only laments that he prostituted his talents to the cause of the +Stuarts and gentility. What book of fiction of the present century +can you read twice, with the exception of "Waverley" and "Rob Roy?" +There is "Pelham," it is true, which the writer of these lines has +seen a Jewess reading in the steppe of Debreczin, and which a young +Prussian Baron, a great traveller, whom he met at Constantinople in +'44 told him he always carried in his valise. And, in conclusion, +he will say, in order to show the opinion which he entertains of +the power of Scott as a writer, that he did for the sceptre of the +wretched Pretender what all the kings of Europe could not do for +his body--placed it on the throne of these realms; and for Popery, +what Popes and Cardinals strove in vain to do for three centuries-- +brought back its mummeries and nonsense into the temples of the +British Isles. + +Scott during his lifetime had a crowd of imitators, who, whether +they wrote history so called--poetry so called--or novels--nobody +would call a book a novel if he could call it anything else--wrote +Charlie o'er the water nonsense; and now that he has been dead +nearly a quarter of a century, there are others daily springing up +who are striving to imitate Scott in his Charlie o'er the water +nonsense--for nonsense it is, even when flowing from his pen. +They, too, must write Jacobite histories, Jacobite songs, and +Jacobite novels, and much the same figure as the scoundrel menials +in the comedy cut when personating their masters, and retailing +their masters' conversation, do they cut as Walter Scotts. In +their histories, they too talk about the Prince and Glenfinnan, and +the pibroch; and in their songs about "Claverse" and "Bonny +Dundee." But though they may be Scots, they are not Walter Scotts. +But it is perhaps chiefly in the novel that you see the veritable +hog in armour; the time of the novel is of course the '15 or '45; +the hero a Jacobite, and connected with one or other of the +enterprises of those periods; and the author, to show how +unprejudiced he is, and what ORIGINAL views he takes of subjects, +must needs speak up for Popery, whenever he has occasion to mention +it; though, with all his originality, when he brings his hero and +the vagabonds with which he is concerned before a barricadoed +house, belonging to the Whigs, he can make them get into it by no +other method than that which Scott makes his rioters employ to get +into the Tolbooth, BURNING DOWN the door. + +To express the more than utter foolishness of this latter Charlie +o'er the water nonsense, whether in rhyme or prose, there is but +one word, and that word a Scotch word. Scotch, the sorriest of +jargons, compared with which even Roth Welsch is dignified and +expressive, has yet one word to express what would be inexpressible +by any word or combination of words in any language, or in any +other jargon in the world; and very properly; for as the nonsense +is properly Scotch, so should the word be Scotch which expresses +it--that word is "fushionless," pronounced FOOSHIONLESS; and when +the writer has called the nonsense fooshionless--and he does call +it fooshionless--he has nothing more to say, but leaves the +nonsense to its fate. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + + +On Canting Nonsense. + + +The writer now wishes to say something on the subject of canting +nonsense, of which there is a great deal in England. There are +various cants in England, amongst which is the religious cant. He +is not going to discuss the subject of religious cant: lest, +however, he should be misunderstood, he begs leave to repeat that +he is a sincere member of the Church of England, in which he +believes there is more religion, and consequently less cant, than +in any other church in the world; nor is he going to discuss many +other cants; he shall content himself with saying something about +two--the temperance cant and the unmanly cant. Temperance canters +say that "it is unlawful to drink a glass of ale." Unmanly canters +say that "it is unlawful to use one's fists." The writer begs +leave to tell both these species of canters that they do not speak +words of truth. + +It is very lawful to take a cup of ale, or wine, for the purpose of +cheering or invigorating yourself when you are faint and down- +hearted; and likewise to give a cup of ale or wine to others when +they are in a similar condition. The Holy Scripture sayeth nothing +to the contrary, but rather encourageth people in so doing by the +text, "Wine maketh glad the heart of man." But it is not lawful to +intoxicate yourself with frequent cups of ale or wine, nor to make +others intoxicated, nor does the Holy Scripture say it is. The +Holy Scripture no more says that it is lawful to intoxicate +yourself or others, than it says that it is unlawful to take a cup +of ale or wine yourself, or to give one to others. Noah is not +commended in the Scripture for making himself drunken on the wine +he brewed. Nor is it said that the Saviour, when he supplied the +guests with first-rate wine at the marriage-feast, told them to +make themselves drunk upon it. He is said to have supplied them +with first-rate wine, but He doubtless left the quantity which each +should drink to each party's reason and discretion. When you set a +good dinner before your guests, you do not expect that they should +gorge themselves with the victuals you set before them. Wine may +be abused, and so may a leg of mutton. + +Second. It is lawful for any one to use his fists in his own +defence, or in the defence of others, provided they can't help +themselves; but it is not lawful to use them for purposes of +tyranny or brutality. If you are attacked by a ruffian, as the +elderly individual in Lavengro is in the inn-yard, it is quite +lawful, if you can, to give him as good a thrashing as the elderly +individual gave the brutal coachman; and if you see a helpless +woman--perhaps your own sister--set upon by a drunken lord, a +drunken coachman, or a drunken coalheaver, or a brute of any +description, either drunk or sober, it is not only lawful but +laudable, to give them, if you can, a good drubbing; but it is not +lawful because you have a strong pair of fists, and know how to use +them, to go swaggering through a fair, jostling against unoffending +individuals; should you do so, you would be served quite right if +you were to get a drubbing, more particularly if you were served +out by some one less strong, but more skilful than yourself--even +as the coachman was served out by a pupil of the immortal +Broughton--sixty years old, it is true, but possessed of +Broughton's guard and chop. Moses is not blamed in the Scripture +for taking part with the oppressed, and killing an Egyptian +persecutor. We are not told how Moses killed the Egyptian; but it +is quite as creditable to Moses to suppose that he killed the +Egyptian by giving him a buffet under the left ear, as by stabbing +him with a knife. It is true that the Saviour in the New Testament +tells His disciples to turn the left cheek to be smitten, after +they had received a blow on the right; but He was speaking to +people divinely inspired, or whom He intended divinely to inspire-- +people selected by God for a particular purpose. He likewise tells +these people to part with various articles of raiment when asked +for them, and to go a-travelling without money, and take no thought +of the morrow. Are those exhortations carried out by very good +people in the present day? Do Quakers, when smitten on the right +cheek, turn the left to the smiter? When asked for their coat, do +they say, "Friend, take my shirt also?" Has the Dean of Salisbury +no purse? Does the Archbishop of Canterbury go to an inn, run up a +reckoning, and then say to his landlady, "Mistress, I have no +coin?" Assuredly the Dean has a purse, and a tolerably well-filled +one; and, assuredly, the Archbishop, on departing from an inn, not +only settles his reckoning, but leaves something handsome for the +servants, and does not say that he is forbidden by the gospel to +pay for what he has eaten, or the trouble he has given, as a +certain Spanish cavalier said he was forbidden by the statutes of +chivalry. Now, to take the part of yourself, or the part of the +oppressed, with your fists, is quite as lawful in the present day +as it is to refuse your coat and shirt also to any vagabond who may +ask for them, and not to refuse to pay for supper, bed, and +breakfast, at the Feathers, or any other inn, after you have had +the benefit of all three. + +The conduct of Lavengro with respect to drink may, upon the whole, +serve as a model. He is no drunkard, nor is he fond of +intoxicating other people; yet when the horrors are upon him he has +no objection to go to a public-house and call for a pint of ale, +nor does he shrink from recommending ale to others when they are +faint and downcast. In one instance, it is true, he does what +cannot be exactly justified; he encourages the Priest in the +dingle, in more instances than one, in drinking more hollands and +water than is consistent with decorum. He has a motive indeed in +doing so; a desire to learn from the knave in his cups the plans +and hopes of the Propaganda of Rome. Such conduct, however, was +inconsistent with strict fair dealing and openness; and the author +advises all those whose consciences never reproach them for a +single unfair or covert act committed by them, to abuse him +heartily for administering hollands and water to the Priest of +Rome. In that instance the hero is certainly wrong; yet in all +other cases with regard to drink, he is manifestly right. To tell +people that they are never to drink a glass of ale or wine +themselves, or to give one to others, is cant; and the writer has +no toleration for cant of any description. Some cants are not +dangerous; but the writer believes that a more dangerous cant than +the temperance cant, or as it is generally called, teetotalism, is +scarcely to be found. The writer is willing to believe that it +originated with well meaning, though weak people; but there can be +no doubt that it was quickly turned to account by people who were +neither well meaning nor weak. Let the reader note particularly +the purpose to which this cry has been turned in America; the land, +indeed, par excellence, of humbug and humbug cries. It is there +continually in the mouth of the most violent political party, and +is made an instrument of almost unexampled persecution. The writer +would say more on the temperance cant, both in England and America, +but want of space prevents him. There is one point on which he +cannot avoid making a few brief remarks--that is, the inconsistent +conduct of its apostles in general. The teetotal apostle says, it +is a dreadful thing to be drunk. So it is, teetotaller; but if so, +why do you get drunk? I get drunk? Yes, unhappy man, why do you +get drunk on smoke and passion? Why are your garments impregnated +with the odour of the Indian weed? Why is there a pipe or a cigar +always in your mouth? Why is your language more dreadful than that +of a Poissarde? Tobacco-smoke is more deleterious than ale, +teetotaller; bile more potent than brandy. You are fond of telling +your hearers what an awful thing it is to die drunken. So it is, +teetotaller. Then take good care that you do not die with smoke +and passion, drunken, and with temperance language on your lips; +that is, abuse and calumny against all those who differ from you. +One word of sense you have been heard to say, which is, that +spirits may be taken as a medicine. Now you are in a fever of +passion, teetotaller; so, pray take this tumbler of brandy; take it +on the homoeopathic principle, that heat is to be expelled by heat. +You are in a temperance fury, so swallow the contents of this +tumbler, and it will, perhaps, cure you. You look at the glass +wistfully--you occasionally take a glass medicinally--and it is +probable you do. Take one now. Consider what a dreadful thing it +would be to die passion drunk; to appear before your Maker with +intemperate language on your lips. That's right! You don't seem +to wince at the brandy. That's right!--well done! All down in two +pulls. Now you look like a reasonable being! + +If the conduct of Lavengro with retard to drink is open to little +censure, assuredly the use which he makes of his fists is entitled +to none at all. Because he has a pair of tolerably strong fists, +and knows to a certain extent how to use them, is he a swaggerer or +oppressor? To what ill account does he turn them? Who more quiet, +gentle, and inoffensive than he? He beats off a ruffian who +attacks him in a dingle; has a kind of friendly tuzzle with Mr. +Petulengro, and behold the extent of his fistic exploits. + +Ay, but he associates with prize-fighters; and that very fellow, +Petulengro, is a prize-fighter, and has fought for a stake in a +ring. Well, and if he had not associated with prize-fighters, how +could he have used his fists? Oh, anybody can use his fists in his +own defence, without being taught by prize-fighters. Can they? +Then why does not the Italian, or Spaniard, or Affghan use his +fists when insulted or outraged, instead of having recourse to the +weapons which he has recourse to? Nobody can use his fists without +being taught the use of them by those who have themselves been +taught, no more than any one can "whiffle" without being taught by +a master of the art. Now let any man of the present day try to +whiffle. Would not any one who wished to whiffle have to go to a +master of the art? Assuredly! but where would he find one at the +present day? The last of the whifflers hanged himself about a +fortnight ago on a bell-rope in a church steeple of "the old town," +from pure grief that there was no further demand for the exhibition +of his art, there being no demand for whiffling since the +discontinuation of Guildhall banquets. Whiffling is lost. The old +chap left his sword behind him; let any one take up the old chap's +sword and try to whiffle. Now much the same hand as he would make +who should take up the whiffler's sword and try to whiffle, would +he who should try to use his fists who had never had the advantage +of a master. Let no one think that men use their fists naturally +in their own disputes--men have naturally recourse to any other +thing to defend themselves or to offend others; they fly to the +stick, to the stone, to the murderous and cowardly knife, or to +abuse as cowardly as the knife, and occasionally more murderous. +Now which is best when you hate a person, or have a pique against a +person, to clench your fist and say "Come on," or to have recourse +to the stone, the knife,--or murderous calumny? The use of the +fist is almost lost in England. Yet are the people better than +they were when they knew how to use their fists? The writer +believes not. A fisty combat is at present a great rarity, but the +use of the knife, the noose, and of poison, to say nothing of +calumny, are of more frequent occurrence in England than perhaps in +any country in Europe. Is polite taste better than when it could +bear the details of a fight? The writer believes not. Two men +cannot meet in a ring to settle a dispute in a manly manner without +some trumpery local newspaper letting loose a volley of abuse +against "the disgraceful exhibition," in which abuse it is sure to +be sanctioned by its dainty readers; whereas some murderous horror, +the discovery for example of the mangled remains of a woman in some +obscure den, is greedily seized hold of by the moral journal, and +dressed up for its readers, who luxuriate and gloat upon the +ghastly dish. Now, the writer of Lavengro has no sympathy with +those who would shrink from striking a blow, but would not shrink +from the use of poison or calumny; and his taste has little in +common with that which cannot tolerate the hardy details of a +prize-fight, but which luxuriates on descriptions of the murder +dens of modern England. But prize-fighters and pugilists are +blackguards, a reviewer has said; and blackguards they would be +provided they employed their skill and their prowess for purposes +of brutality and oppression; but prize-fighters and pugilists are +seldom friends to brutality and oppression; and which is the +blackguard, the writer would ask, he who uses his fists to take his +own part, or instructs others to use theirs for the same purpose, +or the being who from envy and malice, or at the bidding of a +malicious scoundrel, endeavours by calumny, falsehood, and +misrepresentation to impede the efforts of lonely and unprotected +genius? + +One word more about the race, all but extinct, of the people +opprobriously called prize-fighters. Some of them have been as +noble, kindly men as the world ever produced. Can the rolls of the +English aristocracy exhibit names belonging to more noble, more +heroic men than those who were called respectively Pearce, Cribb, +and Spring? Did ever one of the English aristocracy contract the +seeds of fatal consumption by rushing up the stairs of a burning +edifice, even to the topmost garret, and rescuing a woman from +seemingly inevitable destruction? The writer says no. A woman was +rescued from the top of a burning house; but the man who rescued +her was no aristocrat; it was Pearce, not Percy, who ran up the +burning stairs. Did ever one of those glittering ones save a +fainting female from the libidinous rage of six ruffians? The +writer believes not. A woman was rescued from the libidinous fury +of six monsters on--Down; but the man who rescued her was no +aristocrat; it was Pearce not Paulet, who rescued the woman, and +thrashed my lord's six gamekeepers--Pearce, whose equal never was, +and probably never will be, found in sturdy combat. Are there any +of the aristocracy of whom it can be said that they never did a +cowardly, cruel, or mean action, and that they invariably took the +part of the unfortunate and weak against cruelty and oppression? +As much can be said of Cribb, of Spring, and the other; but where +is the aristocrat of whom as much can be said? Wellington? +Wellington indeed! a skilful general, and a good man of valour, it +is true, but with that cant word of "duty" continually on his lips, +did he rescue Ney from his butchers? Did he lend a helping hand to +Warner? + +In conclusion, the writer would advise those of his country-folks +who read his book to have nothing to do with the two kinds of +canting nonsense described above, but in their progress through +life to enjoy as well as they can, but always with moderation, the +good things of this world, to put confidence in God, to be as +independent as possible, and to take their own parts. If they are +low-spirited, let them not make themselves foolish by putting on +sackcloth, drinking water, or chewing ashes, but let them take +wholesome exercise, and eat the most generous food they can get, +taking up and reading occasionally, not the lives of Ignatius +Loyola and Francis Spira, but something more agreeable; for +example, the life and adventures of Mr. Duncan Campbell, the deaf +and dumb gentleman; the travels of Captain Falconer in America, and +the journal of John Randall, who went to Virginia and married an +Indian wife; not forgetting, amidst their eating and drinking, +their walks over heaths, and by the sea-side, and their agreeable +literature, to be charitable to the poor, to read the Psalms and to +go to church twice on a Sunday. In their dealings with people, to +be courteous to everybody, as Lavengro was, but always independent +like him; and if people meddle with them, to give them as good as +they bring, even as he and Isopel Berners were in the habit of +doing; and it will be as well for him to observe that he by no +means advises women to be too womanly, but bearing the conduct of +Isopel Berners in mind, to take their own parts, and if anybody +strikes them, to strike again. + +Beating of women by the lords of the creation has become very +prevalent in England since pugilism has been discountenanced. Now +the writer strongly advises any woman who is struck by a ruffian to +strike him again; or if she cannot clench her fists, and he advises +all women in these singular times to learn to clench their fists, +to go at him with tooth and nail, and not to be afraid of the +result, for any fellow who is dastard enough to strike a woman, +would allow himself to be beaten by a woman, were she to make at +him in self-defence, even if, instead of possessing the stately +height and athletic proportions of the aforesaid Isopel, she were +as diminutive in stature, and had a hand as delicate, and foot as +small, as a certain royal lady, who was some time ago assaulted by +a fellow upwards of six feet high, whom the writer has no doubt she +could have beaten had she thought proper to go at him. Such is the +deliberate advice of the author to his countrymen and women--advice +in which he believes there is nothing unscriptural or repugnant to +common sense. + +The writer is perfectly well aware that, by the plain language +which he has used in speaking of the various kinds of nonsense +prevalent in England, he shall make himself a multitude of enemies; +but he is not going to conceal the truth or to tamper with +nonsense, from the fear of provoking hostility. He has a duty to +perform and he will perform it resolutely; he is the person who +carried the Bible to Spain; and as resolutely as he spoke in Spain +against the superstitions of Spain, will he speak in England +against the nonsense of his own native land. He is not one of +those who, before they sit down to write a book, say to themselves, +what cry shall we take up? what principles shall we advocate? what +principles shall we abuse? before we put pen to paper we must find +out what cry is the loudest, what principle has the most advocates, +otherwise, after having written our book, we may find ourselves on +the weaker side. + +A sailor of the "Bounty," waked from his sleep by the noise of the +mutiny, lay still in his hammock for some time, quite undecided +whether to take part with the captain or to join the mutineers. "I +must mind what I do," said he to himself, "lest, in the end, I find +myself on the weaker side;" finally, on hearing that the mutineers +were successful, he went on deck, and seeing Bligh pinioned to the +mast, he put his fist to his nose, and otherwise insulted him. +Now, there are many writers of the present day whose conduct is +very similar to that of the sailor. They lie listening in their +corners till they have ascertained which principle has most +advocates; then, presently, they make their appearance on the deck +of the world with their book; if truth has been victorious, then +has truth the hurrah! but if truth is pinioned against the mast, +then is their fist thrust against the nose of truth, and their gibe +and their insult spirted in her face. The strongest party had the +sailor, and the strongest party has almost invariably the writer of +the present day. + + + +CHAPTER IX + + + +Pseudo-Critics. + + +A certain set of individuals calling themselves critics have +attacked Lavengro with much virulence and malice. If what they +call criticism had been founded on truth, the author would have had +nothing to say. The book contains plenty of blemishes, some of +them, by the bye, wilful ones, as the writer will presently show; +not one of these, however, has been detected and pointed out; but +the best passages in the book, indeed whatever was calculated to +make the book valuable, have been assailed with abuse and +misrepresentation. The duty of the true critic is to play the part +of a leech, and not of a viper. Upon true and upon malignant +criticism there is an excellent fable by the Spaniard Iriarte. The +viper says to the leech, "Why do people invite your bite, and flee +from mine?" "Because," says the leech, "people receive health from +my bite, and poison from yours." "There is as much difference," +says the clever Spaniard, "between true and malignant criticism, as +between poison and medicine." Certainly a great many meritorious +writers have allowed themselves to be poisoned by malignant +criticism; the writer, however, is not one of those who allow +themselves to be poisoned by pseudo-critics; no! no! he will rather +hold them up by their tails, and show the creatures wriggling, +blood and foam streaming from their broken jaws. First of all, +however, he will notice one of their objections. "The book isn't +true," say they. Now one of the principal reasons with those that +have attacked Lavengro for their abuse of it is, that it is +particularly true in one instance, namely, that it exposes their +own nonsense, their love of humbug, their slavishness, their +dressings, their goings out, their scraping and bowing to great +people; it is the showing up of "gentility-nonsense" in Lavengro +that has been one principal reason for raising the above cry; for +in Lavengro is denounced the besetting folly of the English people, +a folly which those who call themselves guardians of the public +taste are far from being above. "We can't abide anything that +isn't true!" they exclaim. Can't they? Then why are they so +enraptured with any fiction that is adapted to purposes of humbug, +which tends to make them satisfied with their own proceedings, with +their own nonsense, which does not tell them to reform, to become +more alive to their own failings, and less sensitive about the +tyrannical goings on of the masters, and the degraded condition, +the sufferings, and the trials of the serfs in the star Jupiter? +Had Lavengro, instead of being the work of an independent mind, +been written in order to further any of the thousand and one cants, +and species of nonsense prevalent in England, the author would have +heard much less about its not being true, both from public +detractors and private censurers. + +"But Lavengro pretends to be an autobiography," say the critics; +and here the writer begs leave to observe, that it would be well +for people who profess to have a regard for truth, not to exhibit +in every assertion which they make a most profligate disregard of +it; this assertion of theirs is a falsehood, and they know it to be +a falsehood. In the preface Lavengro is stated to be a dream; and +the writer takes this opportunity of stating that he never said it +was an autobiography; never authorized any person to say that it +was one; and that he has in innumerable instances declared in +public and private, both before and after the work was published, +that it was not what is generally termed an autobiography: but a +set of people who pretend to write criticisms on books, hating the +author for various reasons,--amongst others, because, having the +proper pride of a gentleman and a scholar, he did not, in the year +'43, choose to permit himself to be exhibited and made a zany of in +London, and especially because he will neither associate with, nor +curry favour with, them who are neither gentlemen nor scholars,-- +attack his book with abuse and calumny. He is, perhaps, +condescending too much when he takes any notice of such people; as, +however, the English public is wonderfully led by cries and shouts, +and generally ready to take part against any person who is either +unwilling or unable to defend himself, he deems it advisable not to +be altogether quiet with those who assail him. The best way to +deal with vipers is to tear out their teeth; and the best way to +deal with pseudo-critics is to deprive them of their poison-bag, +which is easily done by exposing their ignorance. The writer knew +perfectly well the description of people with whom he would have to +do, he therefore very quietly prepared a stratagem, by means of +which he could at any time exhibit them, powerless and helpless, in +his hand. Critics, when they review books, ought to have a +competent knowledge of the subjects which those books discuss. + +Lavengro is a philological book, a poem if you choose to call it +so. Now, what a fine triumph it would have been for those who +wished to vilify the book and its author, provided they could have +detected the latter tripping in his philology--they might have +instantly said that he was an ignorant pretender to philology--they +laughed at the idea of his taking up a viper by its tail, a trick +which hundreds of country urchins do every September, but they were +silent about the really wonderful part of the book, the +philological matter--they thought philology was his stronghold, and +that it would be useless to attack him there; they of course would +give him no credit as a philologist, for anything like fair +treatment towards him was not to be expected at their hands, but +they were afraid to attack his philology--yet that was the point, +and the only point in which they might have attacked him +successfully; he was vulnerable there. How was this? Why, in +order to have an opportunity of holding up pseudo-critics by the +tails, he wilfully spelt various foreign words wrong--Welsh words, +and even Italian words--did they detect these misspellings? not one +of them, even as he knew they would not, and he now taunts them +with ignorance; and the power of taunting them with ignorance is +the punishment which he designed for them--a power which they might +but for their ignorance have used against him. The writer besides +knowing something of Italian and Welsh, knows a little of Armenian +language and literature; but who knowing anything of the Armenian +language, unless he had an end in view, would say, that the word +sea in Armenian is anything like the word tide in English? The +word for sea in Armenian is dzow, a word connected with the +Tebetian word for water, and the Chinese shuy, and the Turkish su, +signifying the same thing; but where is the resemblance between +dzow and tide? Again, the word for bread in ancient Armenian is +hats; yet the Armenian on London Bridge is made to say zhats, which +is not the nominative of the Armenian noun for bread, but the +accusative: now, critics, ravening against a man because he is a +gentleman and a scholar, and has not only the power but also the +courage to write original works, why did you not discover that weak +point? Why, because you were ignorant, so here ye are held up! +Moreover, who with a name commencing with Z, ever wrote fables in +Armenian? There are two writers of fables in Armenian--Varthan and +Koscht, and illustrious writers they are, one in the simple, and +the other in the ornate style of Armenian composition, but neither +of their names begins with a Z. Oh, what a precious opportunity ye +lost, ye ravening crew, of convicting the poor, half-starved, +friendless boy of the book, of ignorance or misrepresentation, by +asking who with a name beginning with Z ever wrote fables in +Armenian; but ye couldn't help yourselves, ye are duncie. We +duncie! Ay, duncie. So here ye are held up by the tails, blood +and foam streaming from your jaws. + +The writer wishes to ask here, what do you think of all this, +Messieurs les Critiques? Were ye ever served so before? But don't +you richly deserve it? Haven't you been for years past bullying +and insulting everybody whom you deemed weak, and currying favour +with everybody whom you thought strong? "We approve of this. We +disapprove of that. Oh, this will never do. These are fine +lines!" The lines perhaps some horrid sycophantic rubbish +addressed to Wellington, or Lord So-and-so. To have your ignorance +thus exposed, to be shown up in this manner, and by whom? A gypsy! +Ay, a gypsy was the very right person to do it. But is it not +galling, after all? + +"Ah, but WE don't understand Armenian, it cannot be expected that +WE should understand Armenian, or Welsh, or--Hey, what's this? The +mighty WE not understand Armenian or Welsh, or--Then why does the +mighty WE pretend to review a book like Lavengro? From the +arrogance with which it continually delivers itself, one would +think that the mighty WE is omniscient; that it understands every +language; is versed in every literature; yet the mighty WE does not +even know the word for bread in Armenian. It knows bread well +enough by name in England, and frequently bread in England only by +its name, but the truth is, that the mighty WE, with all its +pretension, is in general a very sorry creature, who, instead of +saying nous disons, should rather say nous dis: Porny in his +"Guerre des Dieux," very profanely makes the three in one say, Je +faisons; now, Lavengro, who is anything but profane, would suggest +that critics, especially magazine and Sunday newspaper critics, +should commence with nous dis, as the first word would be +significant of the conceit and assumption of the critic, and the +second of the extent of the critic's information. The WE says its +say, but when fawning sycophancy or vulgar abuse are taken from +that say, what remains? Why a blank, a void like Ginnungagap. + +As the writer, of his own accord, has exposed some of the blemishes +of his book--a task, which a competent critic ought to have done-- +he will now point out two or three of its merits, which any critic, +not altogether blinded with ignorance might have done, or not +replete with gall and envy would have been glad to do. The book +has the merit of communicating a fact connected with physiology, +which in all the pages of the multitude of books was never +previously mentioned--the mysterious practice of touching objects +to baffle the evil chance. The miserable detractor will, of +course, instantly begin to rave about such a habit being common: +well and good; but was it ever before described in print, or all +connected with it dissected? He may then vociferate something +about Johnson having touched:- the writer cares not whether +Johnson, who, by the bye, during the last twenty or thirty years, +owing to people having become ultra Tory mad from reading Scott's +novels and the "Quarterly Review," has been a mighty favourite, +especially with some who were in the habit of calling him a half +crazy old fool--touched, or whether he did or not; but he asks +where did Johnson ever describe the feelings which induced him to +perform the magic touch, even supposing that he did perform it? +Again, the history gives an account of a certain book called the +"Sleeping Bard," the most remarkable prose work of the most +difficult language but one, of modern Europe,--a book, for a notice +of which, he believes, one might turn over in vain the pages of any +review printed in England, or, indeed, elsewhere.--So here are two +facts, one literary and the other physiological, for which any +candid critic was bound to thank the author, even as in Romany Rye +there is a fact connected with Iro Norman Myth, for the disclosing +of which, any person who pretends to have a regard for literature +is bound to thank him, namely, that the mysterious Finn or Fingal +of "Ossian's Poems" is one and the same person as the Sigurd +Fofnisbane of the Edda and the Wilkina, and the Siegfried Horn of +the Lay of the Niebelungs. + +The writer might here conclude, and, he believes, most +triumphantly; as, however, he is in the cue for writing, which he +seldom is, he will for his own gratification, and for the sake of +others, dropping metaphors about vipers and serpents, show up in +particular two or three sets or cliques of people, who, he is happy +to say, have been particularly virulent against him and his work, +for nothing indeed could have given him greater mortification than +their praise. + +In the first place, he wishes to dispose of certain individuals who +call themselves men of wit and fashion--about town--who he is told +have abused his book "vaustly"--their own word. These people paint +their cheeks, wear white kid gloves, and dabble in literature, or +what they conceive to be literature. For abuse from such people, +the writer was prepared. Does any one imagine that the writer was +not well aware, before he published his book, that, whenever he +gave it to the world, he should be attacked by every literary +coxcomb in England who had influence enough to procure the +insertion of a scurrilous article in a magazine or newspaper! He +has been in Spain, and has seen how invariably the mule attacks the +horse; now why does the mule attack the horse? Why, because the +latter carries about with him that which the envious hermaphrodite +does not possess. + +They consider, forsooth, that his book is low--but he is not going +to waste words about them--one or two of whom, he is told, have +written very duncie books about Spain, and are highly enraged with +him, because certain books which he wrote about Spain were not +considered duncie. No, he is not going to waste words upon them, +for verily he dislikes their company, and so he'll pass them by, +and proceed to others. + +The Scotch Charlie o'er the water people have been very loud in the +abuse of Lavengro--this again might be expected; the sarcasms of +the Priest about the Charlie o'er the water nonsense of course +stung them. Oh! it is one of the claims which Lavengro has to +respect, that it is the first, if not the only work, in which that +nonsense is, to a certain extent, exposed. Two or three of their +remarks on passages of Lavengro, he will reproduce and laugh at. +Of course your Charlie o'er the water people are genteel +exceedingly, and cannot abide anything low. Gypsyism they think is +particularly low, and the use of gypsy words in literature beneath +its gentility; so they object to gypsy words being used in Lavengro +where gypsies are introduced speaking--"What is Romany forsooth?" +say they. Very good! And what is Scotch? has not the public been +nauseated with Scotch for the last thirty years? "Ay, but Scotch +is not"--the writer believes he knows much better than the Scotch +what Scotch is and what it is not; he has told them before what it +is, a very sorry jargon. He will now tell them what it is not--a +sister or an immediate daughter of the Sanscrit, which Romany is. +"Ay, but the Scotch are"--foxes, foxes, nothing else than foxes, +even like the gypsies--the difference between the gypsy and Scotch +fox being that the first is wild, with a mighty brush, the other a +sneak with a gilt collar and without a tail. + +A Charlie o'er the water person attempts to be witty, because the +writer has said that perhaps a certain old Edinburgh High-School +porter, of the name of Boee, was perhaps of the same blood as a +certain Bui, a Northern Kemp who distinguished himself at the +battle of Horinger Bay. A pretty matter, forsooth, to excite the +ridicule of a Scotchman! Why, is there a beggar or trumpery fellow +in Scotland, who does not pretend to be somebody, or related to +somebody? Is not every Scotchman descended from some king, kemp, +or cow-stealer of old, by his own account at least? Why, the +writer would even go so far as to bet a trifle that the poor +creature, who ridicules Boee's supposed ancestry, has one of his +own, at least as grand and as apocryphal as old Boee's of the High +School. + +The same Charlie o'er the water person is mightily indignant that +Lavengro should have spoken disrespectfully of William Wallace; +Lavengro, when he speaks of that personage, being a child of about +ten years old, and repeating merely what he had heard. All the +Scotch, by the bye, for a great many years past, have been great +admirers of William Wallace, particularly the Charlie o'er the +water people, who in their nonsense-verses about Charlie generally +contrive to bring in the name of William, Willie, or Wullie +Wallace. The writer begs leave to say that he by no means wishes +to bear hard against William Wallace, but he cannot help asking +why, if William, Willie, or Wullie Wallace was such a particularly +nice person, did his brother Scots betray him to a certain renowned +southern warrior, called Edward Longshanks, who caused him to be +hanged and cut into four in London, and his quarters to be placed +over the gates of certain towns? They got gold, it is true, and +titles, very nice things, no doubt; but, surely, the life of a +patriot is better than all the gold and titles in the world--at +least Lavengro thinks so--but Lavengro has lived more with gypsies +than Scotchmen, and gypsies do not betray their brothers. It would +be some time before a gypsy would hand over his brother to the +harum-beck, even supposing you would not only make him a king, but +a justice of the peace, and not only give him the world, but the +best farm on the Holkham estate; but gypsies are wild foxes, and +there is certainly a wonderful difference between the way of +thinking of the wild fox who retains his brush, and that of the +scurvy kennel creature who has lost his tail. + +Ah! but thousands of Scotch, and particularly the Charlie o'er the +water people, will say, "We didn't sell Willie Wallace, it was our +forbears who sold Willie Wallace--If Edward Longshanks had asked us +to sell Wullie Wallace, we would soon have shown him that--" Lord +better ye, ye poor trumpery set of creatures, ye would not have +acted a bit better than your forefathers; remember how ye have ever +treated the few amongst ye who, though born in the kennel, have +shown something of the spirit of the wood. Many of ye are still +alive who delivered over men, quite as honest and patriotic as +William Wallace, into the hands of an English minister, to be +chained and transported for merely venturing to speak and write in +the cause of humanity, at the time when Europe was beginning to +fling off the chains imposed by kings and priests. And it is not +so very long since Burns, to whom ye are now building up obelisks +rather higher than he deserves, was permitted by his countrymen to +die in poverty and misery, because he would not join with them in +songs of adulation to kings and the trumpery great. So say not +that ye would have acted with respect to William Wallace one whit +better than your fathers--and you in particular, ye children of +Charlie, whom do ye write nonsense-verses about? A family of +dastard despots, who did their best, during a century and more, to +tread out the few sparks of independent feeling still glowing in +Scotland--but enough has been said about ye. + +Amongst those who have been prodigal in abuse and defamation of +Lavengro, have been your modern Radicals, and particularly a set of +people who filled the country with noise against the King and +Queen, Wellington, and the Tories, in '32. About these people the +writer will presently have occasion to say a good deal, and also of +real Radicals. As, however, it may be supposed that he is one of +those who delight to play the sycophant to kings and queens, to +curry favour with Tories, and to bepraise Wellington, he begs leave +to state that such is not the case. + +About kings and queens he has nothing to say; about Tories, simply +that he believes them to be a bad set; about Wellington, however, +it will be necessary for him to say a good deal, of mixed import, +as he will subsequently frequently have occasion to mention him in +connection with what he has to say about pseudo-Radicals. + + + +CHAPTER X + + + +Pseudo-Radicals. + + +About Wellington, then, he says, that he believes him at the +present day to be infinitely overrated. But there certainly was a +time when he was shamefully underrated. Now what time was that? +Why the time of pseudo-Radicalism, par excellence, from '20 to '32. +Oh, the abuse that was heaped on Wellington by those who traded in +Radical cant--your newspaper editors and review writers! and how he +was sneered at then by your Whigs, and how faintly supported he was +by your Tories, who were half ashamed of him; for your Tories, +though capital fellows as followers, when you want nobody to back +you, are the faintest creatures in the world when you cry in your +agony, "Come and help me!" Oh, assuredly Wellington was infamously +used at that time, especially by your traders in Radicalism, who +howled at and hooted him; said he had every vice--was no general-- +was beaten at Waterloo--was a poltroon--moreover a poor illiterate +creature, who could scarcely read or write; nay, a principal +Radical paper said boldly he could not read, and devised an +ingenious plan for teaching Wellington how to read. Now this was +too bad; and the writer, being a lover of justice, frequently spoke +up for Wellington, saying, that as for vice, he was not worse than +his neighbours; that he was brave; that he won the fight at +Waterloo, from a half-dead man, it is true, but that he did win it. +Also, that he believed he had read "Rules for the Manual and +Platoon Exercises" to some purpose; moreover, that he was sure he +could write, for that he the writer had once written to Wellington, +and had received an answer from him; nay, the writer once went so +far as to strike a blow for Wellington; for the last time he used +his fists was upon a Radical sub-editor, who was mobbing Wellington +in the street, from behind a rank of grimy fellows; but though the +writer spoke up for Wellington to a certain extent, when he was +shamefully underrated, and once struck a blow for him when he was +about being hustled, he is not going to join in the loathsome +sycophantic nonsense which it has been the fashion to use with +respect to Wellington these last twenty years. Now what have those +years been to England! Why the years of ultra-gentility, everybody +in England having gone gentility mad during the last twenty years, +and no people more so than your pseudo-Radicals. Wellington was +turned out, and your Whigs and Radicals got in, and then commenced +the period of ultra-gentility in England. The Whigs and Radicals +only hated Wellington as long as the patronage of the country was +in his hands, none of which they were tolerably sure he would +bestow on them; but no sooner did they get it into their own, than +they forthwith became admirers of Wellington. And why? Because he +was a duke, petted at Windsor and by foreign princes, and a very +genteel personage. Formerly many of your Whigs and Radicals had +scarcely a decent coat on their backs; but now the plunder of the +country was at their disposal, and they had as good a chance of +being genteel as any people. So they were willing to worship +Wellington because he was very genteel, and could not keep the +plunder of the country out of their hands. And Wellington has been +worshipped, and prettily so, during the last fifteen or twenty +years. He is now a noble fine-hearted creature; the greatest +general the world ever produced; the bravest of men; and--and-- +mercy upon us! the greatest of military writers! Now the present +writer will not join in such sycophancy. As he was not afraid to +take the part of Wellington when he was scurvily used by all +parties, and when it was dangerous to take his part, so he is not +afraid to speak the naked truth about Wellington in these days, +when it is dangerous to say anything about him but what is +sycophantically laudatory. He said in '32, that as to vice, +Wellington was not worse than his neighbours; but he is not going +to say, in '54, that Wellington was a noble-hearted fellow; for he +believes that a more cold-hearted individual never existed. His +conduct to Warner, the poor Vaudois, and Marshal Ney, showed that. +He said, in '32, that he was a good general and a brave man; but he +is not going, in '54, to say that he was the best general, or the +bravest man the world ever saw. England has produced a better +general--France two or three--both countries many braver men. The +son of the Norfolk clergyman was a brave man; Marshal Ney was a +braver man. Oh, that battle of Copenhagen! Oh, that covering the +retreat of the Grand Army! And though he said in '32 that he could +write, he is not going to say in '54 that he is the best of all +military writers. On the contrary, he does not hesitate to say +that any Commentary of Julius Caesar, or any chapter in Justinus, +more especially the one about the Parthians, is worth the ten +volumes of Wellington's Despatches; though he has no doubt that, by +saying so, he shall especially rouse the indignation of a certain +newspaper, at present one of the most genteel journals imaginable-- +with a slight tendency to Liberalism, it is true, but perfectly +genteel--which is nevertheless the very one which, in '32, swore +bodily that Wellington could neither read nor write, and devised an +ingenious plan for teaching him how to read. + +Now, after the above statement, no one will venture to say, if the +writer should be disposed to bear hard upon Radicals, that he would +be influenced by a desire to pay court to princes, or to curry +favour with Tories, or from being a blind admirer of the Duke of +Wellington; but the writer is not going to declaim against +Radicals, that is, real Republicans, or their principles; upon the +whole, he is something of an admirer of both. The writer has +always had as much admiration for everything that is real and +honest as he has had contempt for the opposite. Now real +Republicanism is certainly a very fine thing, a much finer thing +than Toryism, a system of common robbery, which is nevertheless far +better than Whiggism {7}--a compound of petty larceny, popular +instruction, and receiving of stolen goods. Yes, real +Republicanism is certainly a very fine thing, and your real +Radicals and Republicans are certainly very fine fellows, or rather +were fine fellows, for the Lord only knows where to find them at +the present day--the writer does not. If he did, he would at any +time go five miles to invite one of them to dinner, even supposing +that he had to go to a workhouse in order to find the person he +wished to invite. Amongst the real Radicals of England, those who +flourished from the year '16 to '20, there were certainly +extraordinary characters, men partially insane, perhaps, but honest +and brave--they did not make a market of the principles which they +professed, and never intended to do so; they believed in them, and +were willing to risk their lives in endeavouring to carry them out. +The writer wishes to speak in particular of two of these men, both +of whom perished on the scaffold--their names were Thistlewood and +Ings. Thistlewood, the best known of them, was a brave soldier, +and had served with distinction as an officer in the French +service; he was one of the excellent swordsmen of Europe; had +fought several duels in France, where it is no child's play to +fight a duel; but had never unsheathed his sword for single combat, +but in defence of the feeble and insulted--he was kind and open- +hearted, but of too great simplicity; he had once ten thousand +pounds left him, all of which he lent to a friend, who disappeared +and never returned a penny. Ings was an uneducated man, of very +low stature, but amazing strength and resolution; he was a kind +husband and father, and though a humble butcher, the name he bore +was one of the royal names of the heathen Anglo-Saxons. These two +men, along with five others, were executed, and their heads hacked +off, for levying war against George the Fourth; the whole seven +dying in a manner which extorted cheers from the populace; the most +of then uttering philosophical or patriotic sayings. Thistlewood, +who was, perhaps, the most calm and collected of all, just before +he was turned off, said, "We are now going to discover the great +secret." Ings, the moment before he was choked, was singing "Scots +wha ha' wi' Wallace bled." Now there was no humbug about those +men, nor about many more of the same time and of the same +principles. They might be deluded about Republicanism, as Algernon +Sidney was, and as Brutus was, but they were as honest and brave as +either Brutus or Sidney; and as willing to die for their +principles. But the Radicals who succeeded them were beings of a +very different description; they jobbed and traded in +Republicanism, and either parted with it, or at the present day are +eager to part with it for a consideration. In order to get the +Whigs into power, and themselves places, they brought the country +by their inflammatory language to the verge of a revolution, and +were the cause that many perished on the scaffold; by their +incendiary harangues and newspaper articles they caused the Bristol +conflagration, for which six poor creatures were executed; they +encouraged the mob to pillage, pull down and burn, and then rushing +into garrets looked on. Thistlewood tells the mob the Tower is a +second Bastile; let it be pulled down. A mob tries to pull down +the Tower; but Thistlewood is at the head of that mob; he is not +peeping from a garret on Tower Hill like Gulliver at Lisbon. +Thistlewood and Ings say to twenty ragged individuals, Liverpool +and Castlereagh are two satellites of despotism; it would be highly +desirable to put them out of the way. And a certain number of +ragged individuals are surprised in a stable in Cato Street, making +preparations to put Castlereagh and Liverpool out of the way, and +are fired upon with muskets by Grenadiers, and are hacked at with +cutlasses by Bow Street runners; but the twain who encouraged those +ragged individuals to meet in Cato Street are not far off, they are +not on the other side of the river, in the Borough, for example, in +some garret or obscure cellar. The very first to confront the +Guards and runners are Thistlewood and Ings; Thistlewood whips his +long thin rapier through Smithers' lungs, and Ings makes a dash at +Fitzclarence with his butcher's knife. Oh, there was something in +those fellows! honesty and courage--but can as much be said for the +inciters of the troubles of '32? No; they egged on poor ignorant +mechanics and rustics, and got them hanged for pulling down and +burning, whilst the highest pitch to which their own daring ever +mounted was to mob Wellington as he passed in the streets. + +Now, these people were humbugs, which Thistlewood and Ings were +not. They raved and foamed against kings, queens, Wellington, the +aristocracy, and what not, till they had got the Whigs into power, +with whom they were in secret alliance, and with whom they +afterwards openly joined in a system of robbery and corruption, +more flagitious than the old Tory one, because there was more cant +about it; for themselves they got consulships, commissionerships, +and in some instances governments; for their sons clerkships in +public offices; and there you may see those sons with the never- +failing badge of the low scoundrel-puppy, the gilt chain at the +waistcoat pocket; and there you may hear and see them using the +languishing tones, and employing the airs and graces which wenches +use and employ, who, without being in the family way, wish to make +their keepers believe that they are in the family way. Assuredly +great is the cleverness of your Radicals of '32, in providing for +themselves and their families. Yet, clever as they are, there is +one thing they cannot do--they get governments for themselves, +commissionerships for their brothers, clerkships for their sons, +but there is one thing beyond their craft--they cannot get husbands +for their daughters, who, too ugly for marriage, and with their +heads filled with the nonsense they have imbibed from gentility- +novels, go over from Socinus to the Pope, becoming sisters in fusty +convents, or having heard a few sermons in Mr. Platitude's +"chapelle," seek for admission at the establishment of mother S---, +who, after employing them for a time in various menial offices, and +making them pluck off their eyebrows hair by hair, generally +dismisses them on the plea of sluttishness; whereupon they return +to their papas to eat the bread of the country, with the +comfortable prospect of eating it still in the shape of a pension +after their sires are dead. Papa (ex uno disce omnes) living as +quietly as he can; not exactly enviably, it is true, being now and +then seen to cast an uneasy and furtive glance behind, even as an +animal is wont, who has lost by some mischance a very slight +appendage; as quietly however as he can, and as dignifiedly, a +great admirer of every genteel thing and genteel personage, the +Duke in particular, whose "Despatches," bound in red morocco, you +will find on his table. A disliker of coarse expressions, and +extremes of every kind, with a perfect horror for revolutions and +attempts to revolutionize, exclaiming now and then, as a shriek +escapes from whipped and bleeding Hungary, a groan from gasping +Poland, and a half-stifled curse from down-trodden but scowling +Italy, "Confound the revolutionary canaille, why can't it be +quiet!" in a word, putting one in mind of the parvenu in the +"Walpurgis Nacht." The writer is no admirer of Gothe, but the idea +of that parvenu was certainly a good one. Yes, putting one in mind +of the individual who says - + + +"Wir waren wahrlich auch nicht dumm, +Und thaten oft was wir nicht sollten; +Doch jetzo kehrt sich alles um und um, +Und eben da wir's fest erhalten wollten." + +We were no fools, as every one discern'd, +And stopp'd at nought our projects in fulfilling; +But now the world seems topsy-turvy turn'd, +To keep it quiet just when we were willing. + + +Now, this class of individuals entertain a mortal hatred for +Lavengro and its writer, and never lose an opportunity of +vituperating both. It is true that such hatred is by no means +surprising. There is certainly a great deal of difference between +Lavengro and their own sons; the one thinking of independence and +philology, whilst he is clinking away at kettles, and hammering +horse-shoes in dingles; the others stuck up at public offices with +gilt chains at their waistcoat-pockets, and giving themselves the +airs and graces of females of a certain description. And there +certainly is a great deal of difference between the author of +Lavengro and themselves--he retaining his principles and his brush; +they with scarlet breeches on, it is true, but without their +Republicanism, and their tails. Oh, the writer can well afford to +be vituperated by your pseudo-Radicals of '32! + +Some time ago the writer was set upon by an old Radical and his +wife; but the matter is too rich not to require a chapter to +itself. + + + +CHAPTER XI + + + +The Old Radical. + + +"This very dirty man, with his very dirty face, +Would do any dirty act, which would get him a place." + + +Some time ago the writer was set upon by an old Radical and his +wife; but before he relates the manner in which they set upon him, +it will be as well to enter upon a few particulars tending to +elucidate their reasons for so doing. + +The writer had just entered into his eighteenth year, when he met +at the table of a certain Anglo-Germanist an individual, apparently +somewhat under thirty, of middle stature, a thin and weaselly +figure, a sallow complexion, a certain obliquity of vision, and a +large pair of spectacles. This person, who had lately come from +abroad, and had published a volume of translations, had attracted +some slight notice in the literary world, and was looked upon as a +kind of lion in a small provincial capital. After dinner he argued +a great deal, spoke vehemently against the church, and uttered the +most desperate Radicalism that was perhaps ever heard, saying, he +hoped that in a short time there would not be a king or queen in +Europe, and inveighing bitterly against the English aristocracy, +and against the Duke of Wellington in particular, whom he said, if +he himself was ever president of an English republic--an event +which he seemed to think by no means improbable--he would hang for +certain infamous acts of profligacy and bloodshed which he had +perpetrated in Spain. Being informed that the writer was something +of a philologist, to which character the individual in question +laid great pretensions, he came and sat down by him, and talked +about languages and literature. The writer, who was only a boy, +was a little frightened at first, but, not wishing to appear a +child of absolute ignorance, he summoned what little learning he +had, and began to blunder out something about the Celtic languages +and literature, and asked the Lion who he conceived Finn-Ma-Coul to +be? and whether he did not consider the "Ode to the Fox," by Red +Rhys of Eryry, to be a masterpiece of pleasantry? Receiving no +answer to these questions from the Lion, who, singular enough, +would frequently, when the writer put a question to him, look +across the table, and flatly contradict some one who was talking to +some other person, the writer dropped the Celtic languages and +literature, and asked him whether he did not think it a funny thing +that Temugin, generally called Genghis Khan, should have married +the daughter of Prester John? {8} The Lion, after giving a side- +glance at the writer through his left spectacle glass, seemed about +to reply, but was unfortunately prevented, being seized with an +irresistible impulse to contradict a respectable doctor of +medicine, who was engaged in conversation with the master of the +house at the upper and farther end of the table, the writer being a +poor ignorant lad, sitting of course at the bottom. The doctor, +who had served in the Peninsula, having observed that Ferdinand the +Seventh was not quite so bad as had been represented, the Lion +vociferated that he was ten times worse, and that he hoped to see +him and the Duke of Wellington hanged together. The doctor, who, +being a Welshman, was somewhat of a warm temper, growing rather +red, said that at any rate he had been informed that Ferdinand the +Seventh knew sometimes how to behave himself like a gentleman--this +brought on a long dispute, which terminated rather abruptly. The +Lion having observed that the doctor must not talk about Spanish +matters with one who had visited every part of Spain, the doctor +bowed, and said he was right, for that he believed no people in +general possessed such accurate information about countries as +those who had travelled them as bagmen. On the Lion asking the +doctor what he meant, the Welshman, whose under jaw began to move +violently, replied, that he meant what he said. Here the matter +ended, for the Lion, turning from him, looked at the writer. The +writer, imagining that his own conversation hitherto had been too +trivial and common-place for the Lion to consider worth his while +to take much notice of it, determined to assume a little higher +ground, and after repeating a few verses of the Koran, and gabbling +a little Arabic, asked the Lion what he considered to be the +difference between the Hegira and the Christian era, adding, that +he thought the general computation was in error by about one year; +and being a particularly modest person, chiefly, he believes, owing +to his having been at school in Ireland, absolutely blushed at +finding that the Lion returned not a word in answer. "What a +wonderful individual I am seated by," thought he, "to whom Arabic +seems a vulgar speech, and a question about the Hegira not worthy +of an answer!" not reflecting that as lions come from the Sahara, +they have quite enough of Arabic at home, and that the question +about the Hegira was rather mal a propos to one used to prey on the +flesh of hadjis. "Now I only wish he would vouchsafe me a little +of his learning," thought the boy to himself, and in this wish he +was at last gratified; for the Lion, after asking him whether he +was acquainted at all with the Sclavonian languages, and being +informed that he was not, absolutely dumb-foundered him by a +display of Sclavonian erudition. + +Years rolled by--the writer was a good deal about, sometimes in +London, sometimes in the country, sometimes abroad; in London he +occasionally met the man of the spectacles, who was always very +civil to him, and, indeed, cultivated his acquaintance. The writer +thought it rather odd that, after he himself had become acquainted +with the Sclavonian languages and literature, the man of the +spectacles talked little or nothing about them. In a little time, +however, the matter ceased to cause him the slightest surprise, for +he had discovered a key to the mystery. In the mean time the man +of spectacles was busy enough; he speculated in commerce, failed, +and paid his creditors twenty pennies in the pound; published +translations, of which the public at length became heartily tired; +having, indeed, got an inkling of the manner in which those +translations were got up. He managed, however, to ride out many a +storm, having one trusty sheet-anchor--Radicalism. This he turned +to the best advantage--writing pamphlets and articles in reviews, +all in the Radical interest, and for which he was paid out of the +Radical fund; which articles and pamphlets, when Toryism seemed to +reel on its last legs, exhibited a slight tendency to Whiggism. +Nevertheless, his abhorrence of desertion of principle was so great +in the time of the Duke of Wellington's administration, that when +S--- left the Whigs and went over, he told the writer, who was +about that time engaged with him in a literary undertaking, that +the said S--- was a fellow with a character so infamous, that any +honest man would rather that you spit in his face than insult his +ears with the mention of the name of S---. + +The literary project having come to nothing,--in which, by the bye, +the writer was to have all the labour, and his friend all the +credit, provided any credit should accrue from it,--the writer did +not see the latter for some years, during which time considerable +political changes took place; the Tories were driven from, and the +Whigs placed in, office, both events being brought about by the +Radicals coalescing with the Whigs, over whom they possessed great +influence for the services which they had rendered. When the +writer next visited his friend, he found him very much altered; his +opinions were by no means so exalted as they had been--he was not +disposed even to be rancorous against the Duke of Wellington, +saying that there were worse men than he, and giving him some +credit as a general; a hankering after gentility seeming to pervade +the whole family, father and sons, wife and daughters, all of whom +talked about genteel diversions--gentility novels, and even seemed +to look with favour on High Churchism, having in former years, to +all appearance, been bigoted Dissenters. In a little time the +writer went abroad; as, indeed, did his friend; not, however, like +the writer, at his own expense, but at that of the country--the +Whigs having given him a travelling appointment, which he held for +some years, during which he received upwards of twelve thousand +pounds of the money of the country, for services which will, +perhaps, be found inscribed on certain tablets, when another +Astolfo shall visit the moon. This appointment, however, he lost +on the Tories resuming power--when the writer found him almost as +Radical and patriotic as ever, just engaged in trying to get into +Parliament, into which he got by the assistance of his Radical +friends, who, in conjunction with the Whigs, were just getting up a +crusade against the Tories, which they intended should be a +conclusive one. + +A little time after the publication of "The Bible in Spain," the +Tories being still in power, this individual, full of the most +disinterested friendship for the author, was particularly anxious +that he should be presented with an official situation, in a +certain region a great many miles off. "You are the only person +for that appointment," said he; "you understand a great deal about +the country, and are better acquainted with the two languages +spoken there than any one in England. Now I love my country, and +have, moreover, a great regard for you, and as I am in Parliament, +and have frequent opportunities of speaking to the Ministry, I +shall take care to tell them how desirable it would be to secure +your services. It is true they are Tories, but I think that even +Tories would give up their habitual love of jobbery in a case like +yours, and for once show themselves disposed to be honest men and +gentlemen; indeed, I have no doubt they will, for having so +deservedly an infamous character, they would be glad to get +themselves a little credit, by a presentation which could not +possibly be traced to jobbery or favouritism." + +The writer begged his friend to give himself no trouble about the +matter, as he was not desirous of the appointment, being in +tolerably easy circumstances, and willing to take some rest after a +life of labour. All, however, that he could say was of no use, his +friend indignantly observing, that the matter ought to be taken +entirely out of his hands, and the appointment thrust upon him for +the credit of the country. "But may not many people be far more +worthy of the appointment than myself?" said the writer. "Where?" +said the friendly Radical. "If you don't get it, it will be made a +job of, given to the son of some steward, or, perhaps, to some +quack who has done dirty work; I tell you what, I shall ask it for +you, in spite of you; I shall, indeed!" and his eyes flashed with +friendly and patriotic fervour through the large pair of spectacles +which he wore. + +And, in fact, it would appear that the honest and friendly patriot +put his threat into execution. "I have spoken," said he, "more +than once to this and that individual in Parliament, and everybody +seems to think that the appointment should be given to you. Nay, +that you should be forced to accept it. I intend next to speak to +Lord A--- " And so he did, at least it would appear so. On the +writer calling upon him one evening, about a week afterwards, in +order to take leave of him, as the writer was about to take a long +journey for the sake of his health, his friend no sooner saw him +than he started up in a violent fit of agitation, and glancing +about the room, in which there were several people, amongst others +two Whig members of Parliament, said, "I am glad you are come, I +was just speaking about you. This," said he, addressing the two +members, "is so and so, the author of so and so, the well-known +philologist; as I was telling you, I spoke to Lord A--- this day +about him, and said that he ought forthwith to have the head +appointment in--and what did the fellow say? Why, that there was +no necessity for such an appointment at all, and if there were, +why--and then he hummed and ha'd. Yes," said he, looking at the +writer, "he did indeed. What a scandal! what an infamy! But I see +how it will be, it will be a job. The place will be given to some +son of a steward or to some quack, as I said before. Oh, these +Tories! Well, if this does not make one-- " Here he stopped +short, crunched his teeth, and looked the image of desperation. + +Seeing the poor man in this distressed condition, the writer begged +him to be comforted, and not to take the matter so much to heart; +but the indignant Radical took the matter very much to heart, and +refused all comfort whatever, bouncing about the room, and, whilst +his spectacles flashed in the light of four spermaceti candles, +exclaiming, "It will be a job--a Tory job! I see it all, I see it +all, I see it all!" + +And a job it proved, and a very pretty job, but no Tory job. +Shortly afterwards the Tories were out, and the Whigs were in. +From that time the writer heard not a word about the injustice done +to the country in not presenting him with the appointment to -; the +Radical, however, was busy enough to obtain the appointment, not +for the writer, but for himself, and eventually succeeded, partly +through Radical influence, and partly through that of a certain +Whig lord, for whom the Radical had done, on a particular occasion, +work of a particular kind. So, though the place was given to a +quack, and the whole affair a very pretty job, it was one in which +the Tories had certainly no hand. + +In the meanwhile, however, the friendly Radical did not drop the +writer. Oh, no! On various occasions he obtained from the writer +all the information about the country in question, and was +particularly anxious to obtain from the writer, and eventually did +obtain, a copy of a work written in the court language of that +country, edited by the writer, a language exceedingly difficult, +which the writer, at the expense of a considerable portion of his +eyesight, had acquired, at least as far as by the eyesight it could +be acquired. What use the writer's friend made of the knowledge he +had gained from him, and what use he made of the book, the writer +can only guess; but he has little doubt that when the question of +sending a person to--was mooted in a Parliamentary Committee--which +it was at the instigation of the writer's friend--the Radical on +being examined about the country, gave the information which he had +obtained from the writer as his own, and flashed the book and its +singular characters in the eyes of the Committee; and then of +course his Radical friends would instantly say, "This is the man! +there is no one like him. See what information he possesses; and +see that book written by himself in the court language of Serendib. +This is the only man to send there. What a glory, what a triumph +it would be to Britain, to send out a man so deeply versed in the +mysterious lore of--as our illustrious countryman; a person who +with his knowledge could beat with their own weapons the wise men +of-- Is such an opportunity to be lost? Oh, no! surely not; if it +is, it will be an eternal disgrace to England, and the world will +see that Whigs are no better than Tories." + +Let no one think the writer uncharitable in these suppositions. +The writer is only too well acquainted with the antecedents of the +individual, to entertain much doubt that he would shrink from any +such conduct, provided he thought that his temporal interest would +be forwarded by it. The writer is aware of more than one instance +in which he has passed off the literature of friendless young men +for his own, after making them a slight pecuniary compensation and +deforming what was originally excellent by interpolations of his +own. This was his especial practice with regard to translation, of +which he would fain be esteemed the king. This Radical literato is +slightly acquainted with four or five of the easier dialects of +Europe, on the strength of which knowledge be would fain pass for a +universal linguist, publishing translations of pieces originally +written in various difficult languages; which translations, +however, were either made by himself from literal renderings done +for him into French or German, or had been made from the originals +into English, by friendless young men, and then deformed by his +alterations. + +Well, the Radical got the appointment, and the writer certainly did +not grudge it him. He, of course, was aware that his friend had +behaved in a very base manner towards him, but he bore him no ill- +will, and invariably when he heard him spoken against, which was +frequently the case, took his part when no other person would; +indeed, he could well afford to bear him no ill-will. He had never +sought for the appointment, nor wished for it, nor, indeed, ever +believed himself to be qualified for it. He was conscious, it is +true, that he was not altogether unacquainted with the language and +literature of the country with which the appointment was connected. +He was likewise aware that he was not altogether deficient in +courage and in propriety of behaviour. He knew that his appearance +was not particularly against him; his face not being like that of a +convicted pickpocket, nor his gait resembling that of a fox who has +lost his tail; yet he never believed himself adapted for the +appointment, being aware that he had no aptitude for the doing of +dirty work, if called to do it, nor pliancy which would enable him +to submit to scurvy treatment, whether he did dirty work or not-- +requisites, at the time of which he is speaking, indispensable in +every British official; requisites, by the bye, which his friend +the Radical possessed in a high degree; but though he bore no ill- +will towards his friend, his friend bore anything but good-will +towards him; for from the moment that he had obtained the +appointment for himself, his mind was filled with the most bitter +malignity against the writer, and naturally enough; for no one ever +yet behaved in a base manner towards another, without forthwith +conceiving a mortal hatred against him. You wrong another, know +yourself to have acted basely, and are enraged, not against +yourself--for no one hates himself--but against the innocent cause +of your baseness; reasoning very plausibly, "But for that fellow, I +should never have been base; for had he not existed I could not +have been so, at any rate against him;" and this hatred is all the +more bitter, when you reflect that you have been needlessly base. + +Whilst the Tories are in power the writer's friend, of his own +accord, raves against the Tories because they do not give the +writer a certain appointment, and makes, or says he makes, +desperate exertions to make them do so; but no sooner are the +Tories out, with whom he has no influence, and the Whigs in, with +whom he, or rather his party, has influence, than he gets the place +for himself, though, according to his own expressed opinion--an +opinion with which the writer does not, and never did, concur--the +writer was the only person competent to hold it. Now had he, +without saying a word to the writer, or about the writer with +respect to the employment, got the place for himself when he had an +opportunity, knowing, as he very well knew, himself to be utterly +unqualified for it, the transaction, though a piece of jobbery, +would not have merited the title of a base transaction; as the +matter stands, however, who can avoid calling the whole affair not +only a piece of--come, come, out with the word--scoundrelism on the +part of the writer's friend, but a most curious piece of uncalled- +for scoundrelism? and who, with any knowledge of fallen human +nature, can wonder at the writer's friend entertaining towards him +a considerable portion of gall and malignity? + +This feeling on the part of the writer's friend was wonderfully +increased by the appearance of Lavengro, many passages of which the +Radical in his foreign appointment applied to himself and family-- +one or two of his children having gone over to Popery, the rest +become members of Mr. Platitude's chapel, and the minds of all +being filled with ultra notions of gentility. + +The writer, hearing that his old friend had returned to England, to +apply, he believes, for an increase of salary, and for a title, +called upon him, unwillingly, it is true, for he had no wish to see +a person for whom, though he bore him no ill-will, he could not +avoid feeling a considerable portion of contempt; the truth is, +that his sole object in calling was to endeavour to get back a +piece of literary property which his friend had obtained from him +many years previously, and which, though he had frequently applied +for it, he never could get back. Well, the writer called; he did +not get his property, which, indeed, he had scarcely time to press +for, being almost instantly attacked by his good friend and his +wife--yes, it was then that the author was set upon by an old +Radical and his wife--the wife, who looked the very image of shame +and malignity, did not say much, it is true, but encouraged her +husband in all he said. Both of their own accord introduced the +subject of Lavengro. The Radical called the writer a grumbler, +just as if there had ever been a greater grumbler than himself +until, by the means above described, he had obtained a place: he +said that the book contained a melancholy view of human nature-- +just as if anybody could look in his face without having a +melancholy view of human nature. On the writer quietly observing +that the book contained an exposition of his principles, the +pseudo-Radical replied, that he cared nothing for his principles-- +which was probably true, it not being likely that he would care for +another person's principles after having shown so thorough a +disregard for his own. The writer said that the book, of course, +would give offence to humbugs; the Radical then demanded whether he +thought him a humbug?--the wretched wife was the Radical's +protection, even as he knew she would be; it was on her account +that the writer did not kick his good friend; as it was, he looked +at him in the face and thought to himself, "How is it possible I +should think you a humbug, when only last night I was taking your +part in a company in which everybody called you a humbug?" + +The Radical, probably observing something in the writer's eye which +he did not like, became all on a sudden abjectly submissive, and, +professing the highest admiration for the writer, begged him to +visit him in his government; this the writer promised faithfully to +do, and he takes the present opportunity of performing his promise. + +This is one of the pseudo-Radical calumniators of Lavengro and its +author; were the writer on his deathbed he would lay his hand on +his heart and say, that he does not believe that there is one trait +of exaggeration in the portrait which he has drawn. This is one of +the pseudo-Radical calumniators of Lavengro and its author; and +this is one of the genus, who, after having railed against jobbery +for perhaps a quarter of a century, at present batten on large +official salaries which they do not earn. England is a great +country, and her interests require that she should have many a +well-paid official both at home and abroad; but will England long +continue a great country if the care of her interests, both at home +and abroad, is in many instances intrusted to beings like him +described above, whose only recommendation for an official +appointment was that he was deeply versed in the secrets of his +party and of the Whigs? + +Before he concludes, the writer will take the liberty of saying of +Lavengro that it is a book written for the express purpose of +inculcating virtue, love of country, learning, manly pursuits, and +genuine religion, for example, that of the Church of England, and +for awakening a contempt for nonsense of every kind, and a hatred +for priestcraft, more especially that of Rome. + +And in conclusion, with respect to many passages of his book in +which he has expressed himself in terms neither measured nor mealy, +he will beg leave to observe, in the words of a great poet, who +lived a profligate life, it is true, but who died a sincere +penitent--thanks, after God, to good Bishop Burnet - + + +"All this with indignation I have hurl'd +At the pretending part of this proud world, +Who, swollen with selfish vanity, devise +False freedoms, formal cheats, and holy lies, +Over their fellow fools to tyrannize." +ROCHESTER. + + + +Footnotes + +{1} Tipperary. + +{2} An obscene oath. + +{3} See "Muses' Library," pp. 86, 87. London, 1738. + +{4} Genteel with them seems to be synonymous with Gentile and +Gentoo; if so, the manner in which it has been applied for ages +ceases to surprise, for genteel is heathenish. Ideas of barbaric +pearl and gold, glittering armour, plumes, tortures, blood- +shedding, and lust, should always be connected with it. Wace, in +his grand Norman poem, calls the Baron genteel:- + + +"La furent li gentil Baron," etc. + + +And he certainly could not have applied the word better than to the +strong Norman thief, armed cap-a-pie, without one particle of truth +or generosity; for a person to be a pink of gentility, that is +heathenism, should have no such feelings; and, indeed, the admirers +of gentility seldom or never associate any such feelings with it. +It was from the Norman, the worst of all robbers and miscreants, +who built strong castles, garrisoned them with devils, and tore out +poor wretches' eyes, as the Saxon Chronicle says, that the English +got their detestable word genteel. What could ever have made the +English such admirers of gentility, it would be difficult to say; +for, during three hundred years, they suffered enough by it. Their +genteel Norman landlords were their scourgers, their torturers, the +plunderers of their homes, the dishonourers of their wives, and the +deflourers of their daughters. Perhaps, after all, fear is at the +root of the English veneration for gentility. + +{5} Gentle and gentlemanly may be derived from the same root as +genteel; but nothing can be more distinct from the mere genteel, +than the ideas which enlightened minds associate with these words. +Gentle and gentlemanly mean something kind and genial; genteel, +that which is glittering or gaudy. A person can be a gentleman in +rags, but nobody can be genteel. + +{6} The writer has been checked in print by the Scotch with being +a Norfolk man. Surely, surely, these latter times have not been +exactly the ones in which it was expedient for Scotchmen to check +the children of any county in England with the place of their +birth, more especially those who have had the honour of being born +in Norfolk--times in which British fleets, commanded by Scotchmen, +have returned laden with anything but laurels from foreign shores. +It would have been well for Britain had she had the old Norfolk man +to dispatch to the Baltic or the Black sea, lately, instead of +Scotch admirals. + +{7} As the present work will come out in the midst of a vehement +political contest, people may be led to suppose that the above was +written expressly for the time. The writer therefore begs to state +that it was written in the year 1854. He cannot help adding that +he is neither Whig, Tory, nor Radical, and cares not a straw what +party governs England, provided it is governed well. But he has no +hopes of good government from the Whigs. It is true that amongst +them there is one very great man, Lord Palmerston, who is indeed +the sword and buckler, the chariots and the horses of the party; +but it is impossible for his lordship to govern well with such +colleagues as he has--colleagues which have been forced upon him by +family influence, and who are continually pestering him into +measures anything but conducive to the country's honour and +interest. If Palmerston would govern well, he must get rid of +them; but from that step, with all his courage and all his +greatness, he will shrink. Yet how proper and easy a step it would +be! He could easily get better, but scarcely worse, associates. +They appear to have one object in view, and only one--jobbery. It +was chiefly owing to a most flagitious piece of jobbery, which one +of his lordship's principal colleagues sanctioned and promoted, +that his lordship experienced his late parliamentary disasters. + +{8} A fact. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE ROMANY RYE *** + +This file should be named trrye10.txt or trrye10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, trrye11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, trrye10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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Dent Edition by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +THE ROMANY RYE<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER I<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The Making of the Linch-pin - The Sound Sleeper - Breakfast - The Postillion’s +Departure.<br> +<br> +<br> +I awoke at the first break of day, and, leaving the postillion fast +asleep, stepped out of the tent. The dingle was dank and dripping. +I lighted a fire of coals, and got my forge in readiness. I then +ascended to the field, where the chaise was standing as we had left +it on the previous evening. After looking at the cloud-stone near +it, now cold, and split into three pieces, I set about prying narrowly +into the condition of the wheel and axletree - the latter had sustained +no damage of any consequence, and the wheel, as far as I was able to +judge, was sound, being only slightly injured in the box. The +only thing requisite to set the chaise in a travelling condition appeared +to be a linch-pin, which I determined to make. Going to the companion +wheel, I took out the linch-pin, which I carried down with me to the +dingle, to serve as a model.<br> +<br> +I found Belle by this time dressed, and seated near the forge: with +a slight nod to her like that which a person gives who happens to see +an acquaintance when his mind is occupied with important business, I +forthwith set about my work. Selecting a piece of iron which I +thought would serve my purpose, I placed it in the fire, and plying +the bellows in a furious manner, soon made it hot; then seizing it with +the tongs, I laid it on my anvil, and began to beat it with my hammer, +according to the rules of my art. The dingle resounded with my +strokes. Belle sat still, and occasionally smiled, but suddenly +started up, and retreated towards her encampment, on a spark which I +purposely sent in her direction alighting on her knee. I found +the making of a linch-pin no easy matter; it was, however, less difficult +than the fabrication of a pony-shoe; my work, indeed, was much facilitated +by my having another pin to look at. In about three-quarters of +an hour I had succeeded tolerably well, and had produced a linch-pin +which I thought would serve. During all this time, notwithstanding +the noise which I was making, the postillion never showed his face. +His non-appearance at first alarmed me: I was afraid he might be dead, +but, on looking into the tent, I found him still buried in the soundest +sleep. “He must surely be descended from one of the seven +sleepers,” said I, as I turned away, and resumed my work. +My work finished, I took a little oil, leather, and sand, and polished +the pin as well as I could; then, summoning Belle, we both went to the +chaise, where, with her assistance, I put on the wheel. The linch-pin +which I had made fitted its place very well, and having replaced the +other, I gazed at the chaise for some time with my heart full of that +satisfaction which results from the consciousness of having achieved +a great action; then, after looking at Belle in the hope of obtaining +a compliment from her lips, which did not come, I returned to the dingle, +without saying a word, followed by her. Belle set about making +preparations for breakfast; and I taking the kettle, went and filled +it at the spring. Having hung it over the fire, I went to the +tent in which the postillion was still sleeping, and called upon him +to arise. He awoke with a start, and stared around him at first +with the utmost surprise, not unmixed, I could observe, with a certain +degree of fear. At last, looking in my face, he appeared to recollect +himself. “I had quite forgot,” said he, as he got +up, “where I was, and all that happened yesterday. However, +I remember now the whole affair, thunder-storm, thunder-bolt, frightened +horses, and all your kindness. Come, I must see after my coach +and horses; I hope we shall be able to repair the damage.” +“The damage is already quite repaired,” said I, “as +you will see, if you come to the field above.” “You +don’t say so,” said the postillion, coming out of the tent; +“well, I am mightily beholden to you. Good morning, young +gentle-woman,” said he, addressing Belle, who, having finished +her preparations, was seated near the fire. “Good morning, +young man,” said Belle, “I suppose you would be glad of +some breakfast; however, you must wait a little, the kettle does not +boil.” “Come and look at your chaise,” said +I; “but tell me how it happened that the noise which I have been +making did not awake you; for three-quarters of an hour at least I was +hammering close at your ear.” “I heard you all the +time,” said the postillion, “but your hammering made me +sleep all the sounder; I am used to hear hammering in my morning sleep. +There’s a forge close by the room where I sleep when I’m +at home, at my inn; for we have all kinds of conveniences at my inn +- forge, carpenter’s shop, and wheel-wright’s, - so that +when I heard you hammering I thought, no doubt, that it was the old +noise, and that I was comfortable in my bed at my own inn.” +We now ascended to the field, where I showed the postillion his chaise. +He looked at the pin attentively, rubbed his hands, and gave a loud +laugh. “Is it not well done?” said I. “It +will do till I get home,” he replied. “And that is +all you have to say?” I demanded. “And that’s +a good deal,” said he, “considering who made it. But +don’t be offended,” he added, “I shall prize it all +the more for its being made by a gentleman, and no blacksmith; and so +will my governor, when I show it to him. I shan’t let it +remain where it is, but will keep it, as a remembrance of you, as long +as I live.” He then again rubbed his hands with great glee, +and said, “I will now go and see after my horses, and then to +breakfast, partner, if you please.” Suddenly, however, looking +at his hands, he said, “Before sitting down to breakfast I am +in the habit of washing my hands and face: I suppose you could not furnish +me with a little soap and water.” “As much water as +you please,” said I, “but if you want soap, I must go and +trouble the young gentle-woman for some.” “By no means,” +said the postillion, “water will do at a pinch.” “Follow +me,” said I, and leading him to the pond of the frogs and newts, +I said, “this is my ewer; you are welcome to part of it - the +water is so soft that it is scarcely necessary to add soap to it;” +then lying down on the bank, I plunged my head into the water, then +scrubbed my hands and face, and afterwards wiped them with some long +grass which grew on the margin of the pond. “Bravo,” +said the postillion, “I see you know how to make a shift:” +he then followed my example, declared he never felt more refreshed in +his life, and, giving a bound, said, “he would go and look after +his horses.”<br> +<br> +We then went to look after the horses, which we found not much the worse +for having spent the night in the open air. My companion again +inserted their heads in the corn-bags, and, leaving the animals to discuss +their corn, returned with me to the dingle, where we found the kettle +boiling. We sat down, and Belle made tea and did the honours of +the meal. The postillion was in high spirits, ate heartily, and, +to Belle’s evident satisfaction, declared that he had never drank +better tea in his life, or indeed any half so good. Breakfast +over, he said that he must now go and harness his horses, as it was +high time for him to return to his inn. Belle gave him her hand +and wished him farewell: the postillion shook her hand warmly, and was +advancing close up to her - for what purpose I cannot say - whereupon +Belle, withdrawing her hand, drew herself up with an air which caused +the postillion to retreat a step or two with an exceedingly sheepish +look. Recovering himself, however, he made a low bow, and proceeded +up the path. I attended him, and helped to harness his horses +and put them to the vehicle; he then shook me by the hand, and taking +the reins and whip, mounted to his seat; ere he drove away he thus addressed +me: “If ever I forget your kindness and that of the young woman +below, dash my buttons. If ever either of you should enter my +inn you may depend upon a warm welcome, the best that can be set before +you, and no expense to either, for I will give both of you the best +of characters to the governor, who is the very best fellow upon all +the road. As for your linch-pin, I trust it will serve till I +get home, when I will take it out and keep it in remembrance of you +all the days of my life:” then giving the horses a jerk with his +reins, he cracked his whip and drove off.<br> +<br> +I returned to the dingle, Belle had removed the breakfast things, and +was busy in her own encampment: nothing occurred, worthy of being related, +for two hours, at the end of which time Belle departed on a short expedition, +and I again found myself alone in the dingle.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER II<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The Man in Black - The Emperor of Germany - Nepotism - Donna Olympia +- Omnipotence - Camillo Astalli - The Five Propositions.<br> +<br> +<br> +In the evening I received another visit from the man in black. +I had been taking a stroll in the neighbourhood, and was sitting in +the dingle in rather a listless manner, scarcely knowing how to employ +myself; his coming, therefore, was by no means disagreeable to me. +I produced the hollands and glass from my tent, where Isopel Berners +had requested me to deposit them, and also some lump sugar, then taking +the gotch I fetched water from the spring, and, sitting down, begged +the man in black to help himself; he was not slow in complying with +my desire, and prepared for himself a glass of hollands and water with +a lump of sugar in it. After he had taken two or three sips with +evident satisfaction, I, remembering his chuckling exclamation of “Go +to Rome for money,” when he last left the dingle, took the liberty, +after a little conversation, of reminding him of it, whereupon, with +a he! he! he! he replied, “Your idea was not quite so original +as I supposed. After leaving you the other night, I remembered +having read of an Emperor of Germany who conceived the idea of applying +to Rome for money, and actually put it into practice.<br> +<br> +“Urban the Eighth then occupied the papal chair, of the family +of the Barbarini, nicknamed the Mosche, or Flies, from the circumstance +of bees being their armorial bearing. The Emperor having exhausted +all his money in endeavouring to defend the church against Gustavus +Adolphus, the great King of Sweden, who was bent on its destruction, +applied in his necessity to the Pope for a loan of money. The +Pope, however, and his relations, whose cellars were at that time full +of the money of the church, which they had been plundering for years, +refused to lend him a scudo; whereupon a pasquinade picture was stuck +up at Rome, representing the church lying on a bed, gashed with dreadful +wounds, and beset all over with flies, which were sucking her, whilst +the Emperor of Germany was kneeling before her with a miserable face, +requesting a little money towards carrying on the war against the heretics, +to which the poor church was made to say: ‘How can I assist you, +O my champion, do you not see that the flies have sucked me to the very +bones?’ Which story,” said he, “shows that the +idea of going to Rome for money was not quite so original as I imagined +the other night, though utterly preposterous.<br> +<br> +“This affair,” said he, “occurred in what were called +the days of nepotism. Certain popes, who wished to make themselves +in some degree independent of the cardinals, surrounded themselves with +their nephews and the rest of their family, who sucked the church and +Christendom as much as they could, none doing so more effectually than +the relations of Urban the Eighth, at whose death, according to the +book called the ‘Nipotismo di Roma,’ there were in the Barbarini +family two hundred and twenty-seven governments, abbeys and high dignities; +and so much hard cash in their possession, that threescore and ten mules +were scarcely sufficient to convey the plunder of one of them to Palestrina.” +He added, however, that it was probable that Christendom fared better +whilst the popes were thus independent, as it was less sucked, whereas +before and after that period it was sucked by hundreds instead of tens, +by the cardinals and all their relations, instead of by the pope and +his nephews only.<br> +<br> +Then, after drinking rather copiously of his hollands, he said that +it was certainly no bad idea of the popes to surround themselves with +nephews, on whom they bestowed great church dignities, as by so doing +they were tolerably safe from poison, whereas a pope, if abandoned to +the cardinals, might at any time be made away with by them, provided +they thought that he lived too long, or that he seemed disposed to do +anything which they disliked; adding, that Ganganelli would never have +been poisoned provided he had had nephews about him to take care of +his life, and to see that nothing unholy was put into his food, or a +bustling stirring brother’s wife like Donna Olympia. He +then with a he! he! he! asked me if I had ever read the book called +the “Nipotismo di Roma”; and on my replying in the negative, +he told me that it was a very curious and entertaining book, which he +occasionally looked at in an idle hour, and proceeded to relate to me +anecdotes out of the “Nipotismo di Roma,” about the successor +of Urban, Innocent the Tenth, and Donna Olympia, showing how fond he +was of her, and how she cooked his food, and kept the cardinals away +from it, and how she and her creatures plundered Christendom, with the +sanction of the Pope, until Christendom, becoming enraged, insisted +that he should put her away, which he did for a time, putting a nephew +- one Camillo Astalli - in her place, in which, however, he did not +continue long; for the Pope, conceiving a pique against him, banished +him from his sight, and recalled Donna Olympia, who took care of his +food, and plundered Christendom until Pope Innocent died.<br> +<br> +I said that I only wondered that between pope and cardinals the whole +system of Rome had not long fallen to the ground, and was told, in reply, +that its not having fallen was the strongest proof of its vital power, +and the absolute necessity for the existence of the system. That +the system, notwithstanding its occasional disorders, went on. +Popes and cardinals might prey upon its bowels, and sell its interests, +but the system survived. The cutting off of this or that member +was not able to cause Rome any vital loss; for, as soon as she lost +a member, the loss was supplied by her own inherent vitality; though +her popes had been poisoned by cardinals, and her cardinals by popes; +and though priests occasionally poisoned popes, cardinals, and each +other, after all that had been, and might be, she had still, and would +ever have, her priests, cardinals, and pope.<br> +<br> +Finding the man in black so communicative and reasonable, I determined +to make the best of my opportunity, and learn from him all I could with +respect to the papal system, and told him that he would particularly +oblige me by telling me who the Pope of Rome was; and received for answer, +that he was an old man elected by a majority of cardinals to the papal +chair; who, immediately after his election, became omnipotent and equal +to God on earth. On my begging him not to talk such nonsense, +and asking him how a person could be omnipotent who could not always +preserve himself from poison, even when fenced round by nephews, or +protected by a bustling woman, he, after taking a long sip of hollands +and water, told me that I must not expect too much from omnipotence; +for example, that as it would be unreasonable to expect that One above +could annihilate the past - for instance, the Seven Years’ War, +or the French Revolution - though any one who believed in Him would +acknowledge Him to be omnipotent, so would it be unreasonable for the +faithful to expect that the Pope could always guard himself from poison. +Then, after looking at me for a moment stedfastly, and taking another +sip, he told me that popes had frequently done impossibilities; for +example, Innocent the Tenth had created a nephew; for, not liking particularly +any of his real nephews, he had created the said Camillo Astalli his +nephew; asking me, with a he! he! “What but omnipotence +could make a young man nephew to a person to whom he was not in the +slightest degree related?” On my observing that of course +no one believed that the young fellow was really the Pope’s nephew, +though the Pope might have adopted him as such, the man in black replied, +“that the reality of the nephewship of Camillo Astalli had hitherto +never become a point of faith; let, however, the present pope, or any +other pope, proclaim that it is necessary to believe in the reality +of the nephewship of Camillo Astalli, and see whether the faithful would +not believe in it. Who can doubt that,” he added, “seeing +that they believe in the reality of the five propositions of Jansenius? +The Jesuits, wishing to ruin the Jansenists, induced a pope to declare +that such and such damnable opinions, which they called five propositions, +were to be found in a book written by Jansen, though, in reality, no +such propositions were to be found there; whereupon the existence of +these propositions became forthwith a point of faith to the faithful. +Do you then think,” he demanded, “that there is one of the +faithful who would not swallow, if called upon, the nephewship of Camillo +Astalli as easily as the five propositions of Jansenius?” +“Surely, then,” said I, “the faithful must be a pretty +pack of simpletons!” Whereupon the man in black exclaimed, +“What! a Protestant, and an infringer of the rights of faith! +Here’s a fellow, who would feel himself insulted if any one were +to ask him how he could believe in the miraculous conception, calling +people simpletons who swallow the five propositions of Jansenius, and +are disposed, if called upon, to swallow the reality of the nephewship +of Camillo Astalli.”<br> +<br> +I was about to speak, when I was interrupted by the arrival of Belle. +After unharnessing her donkey, and adjusting her person a little, she +came and sat down by us. In the meantime I had helped my companion +to some more hollands and water, and had plunged with him into yet deeper +discourse.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER III<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Necessity of Religion - The Great Indian One - Image-worship - Shakespeare +- The Pat Answer - Krishna - Amen.<br> +<br> +<br> +Having told the man in black that I should like to know all the truth +with regard to the Pope and his system, he assured me he should be delighted +to give me all the information in his power; that he had come to the +dingle, not so much for the sake of the good cheer which I was in the +habit of giving him, as in the hope of inducing me to enlist under the +banners of Rome, and to fight in her cause; and that he had no doubt +that, by speaking out frankly to me, he ran the best chance of winning +me over.<br> +<br> +He then proceeded to tell me that the experience of countless ages had +proved the necessity of religion; the necessity, he would admit, was +only for simpletons; but as nine-tenths of the dwellers upon this earth +were simpletons, it would never do for sensible people to run counter +to their folly, but, on the contrary, it was their wisest course to +encourage them in it, always provided that, by so doing, sensible people +would derive advantage; that the truly sensible people of this world +were the priests, who, without caring a straw for religion for its own +sake, made use of it as a cord by which to draw the simpletons after +them; that there were many religions in this world, all of which had +been turned to excellent account by the priesthood; but that the one +the best adapted for the purposes of priestcraft was the popish, which, +he said, was the oldest in the world and the best calculated to endure. +On my inquiring what he meant by saying the popish religion was the +oldest in the world, whereas there could be no doubt that the Greek +and Roman religion had existed long before it, to say nothing of the +old Indian religion still in existence and vigour; he said, with a nod, +after taking a sip at his glass, that, between me and him, the popish +religion, that of Greece and Rome, and the old Indian system were, in +reality, one and the same.<br> +<br> +“You told me that you intended to be frank,” said I; “but, +however frank you may be, I think you are rather wild.”<br> +<br> +“We priests of Rome,” said the man in black, “even +those amongst us who do not go much abroad, know a great deal about +church matters, of which you heretics have very little idea. Those +of our brethren of the Propaganda, on their return home from distant +missions, not unfrequently tell us very strange things relating to our +dear mother; for example, our first missionaries to the East were not +slow in discovering and telling to their brethren that our religion +and the great Indian one were identical, no more difference between +them than between Ram and Rome. Priests, convents, beads, prayers, +processions, fastings, penances, all the same, not forgetting anchorites +and vermin, he! he! The pope they found under the title of the +grand lama, a sucking child surrounded by an immense number of priests. +Our good brethren, some two hundred years ago, had a hearty laugh, which +their successors have often re-echoed; they said that helpless suckling +and its priests put them so much in mind of their own old man, surrounded +by his cardinals, he! he! Old age is second childhood.”<br> +<br> +“Did they find Christ?” said I.<br> +<br> +“They found him too,” said the man in black, “that +is, they saw his image; he is considered in India as a pure kind of +being, and on that account, perhaps, is kept there rather in the background, +even as he is here.”<br> +<br> +“All this is very mysterious to me,” said I.<br> +<br> +“Very likely,” said the man in black; “but of this +I am tolerably sure, and so are most of those of Rome, that modern Rome +had its religion from ancient Rome, which had its religion from the +East.”<br> +<br> +“But how?” I demanded.<br> +<br> +“It was brought about, I believe, by the wanderings of nations,” +said the man in black. “A brother of the Propaganda, a very +learned man, once told me - I do not mean Mezzofanti, who has not five +ideas - this brother once told me that all we of the Old World, from +Calcutta to Dublin, are of the same stock, and were originally of the +same language, and - ”<br> +<br> +“All of one religion,” I put in.<br> +<br> +“All of one religion,” said the man in black; “and +now follow different modifications of the same religion.”<br> +<br> +“We Christians are not image-worshippers,” said I.<br> +<br> +“You heretics are not, you mean,” said the man in black; +“but you will be put down, just as you have always been, though +others may rise up after you; the true religion is image-worship; people +may strive against it, but they will only work themselves to an oil; +how did it fare with that Greek Emperor, the Iconoclast, what was his +name, Leon the Isaurian? Did not his image-breaking cost him Italy, +the fairest province of his empire, and did not ten fresh images start +up at home for every one which he demolished? Oh! you little know +the craving which the soul sometimes feels after a good bodily image.”<br> +<br> +“I have indeed no conception of it,” said I; “I have +an abhorrence of idolatry - the idea of bowing before a graven figure!”<br> +<br> +“The idea, indeed!” said Belle, who had now joined us.<br> +<br> +“Did you never bow before that of Shakespeare?” said the +man in black, addressing himself to me, after a low bow to Belle.<br> +<br> +“I don’t remember that I ever did,” said I, “but +even suppose I did?”<br> +<br> +“Suppose you did,” said the man in black; “shame on +you, Mr. Hater of Idolatry; why, the very supposition brings you to +the ground; you must make figures of Shakespeare, must you? then why +not of St. Antonio, or Ignacio, or of a greater personage still! +I know what you are going to say,” he cried, interrupting me, +as I was about to speak. “You don’t make his image +in order to pay it divine honours, but only to look at it, and think +of Shakespeare; but this looking at a thing in order to think of a person +is the very basis of idolatry. Shakespeare’s works are not +sufficient for you; no more are the Bible or the legend of Saint Anthony +or Saint Ignacio for us, that is for those of us who believe in them; +I tell you, Zingara, that no religion can exist long which rejects a +good bodily image.”<br> +<br> +“Do you think,” said I, “that Shakespeare’s +works would not exist without his image?”<br> +<br> +“I believe,” said the man in black, “that Shakespeare’s +image is looked at more than his works, and will be looked at, and perhaps +adored, when they are forgotten. I am surprised that they have +not been forgotten long ago; I am no admirer of them.”<br> +<br> +“But I can’t imagine,” said I, “how you will +put aside the authority of Moses. If Moses strove against image-worship, +should not his doing so be conclusive as to the impropriety of the practice: +what higher authority can you have than that of Moses?”<br> +<br> +“The practice of the great majority of the human race,” +said the man in black, “and the recurrence to image-worship where +image-worship has been abolished. Do you know that Moses is considered +by the church as no better than a heretic, and though, for particular +reasons, it has been obliged to adopt his writings, the adoption was +merely a sham one, as it never paid the slightest attention to them? +No, no, the church was never led by Moses, nor by one mightier than +he, whose doctrine it has equally nullified - I allude to Krishna in +his second avatar; the church, it is true, governs in his name, but +not unfrequently gives him the lie, if he happens to have said anything +which it dislikes. Did you never hear the reply which Padre Paolo +Segani made to the French Protestant Jean Anthoine Guerin, who had asked +him whether it was easier for Christ to have been mistaken in his Gospel, +than for the Pope to be mistaken in his decrees?”<br> +<br> +“I never heard their names before,” said I.<br> +<br> +“The answer was pat,” said the man in black, “though +he who made it was confessedly the most ignorant fellow of the very +ignorant order to which he belonged, the Augustine. ‘Christ +might err as a man,’ said he, ‘but the Pope can never err, +being God.’ The whole story is related in the Nipotismo.”<br> +<br> +“I wonder you should ever have troubled yourself with Christ at +all,” said I.<br> +<br> +“What was to be done?” said the man in black; “the +power of that name suddenly came over Europe, like the power of a mighty +wind; it was said to have come from Judea, and from Judea it probably +came when it first began to agitate minds in these parts; but it seems +to have been known in the remote East, more or less, for thousands of +years previously. It filled people’s minds with madness; +it was followed by books which were never much regarded, as they contained +little of insanity; but the name! what fury that breathed into people! +the books were about peace and gentleness, but the name was the most +horrible of war-cries - those who wished to uphold old names at first +strove to oppose it, but their efforts were feeble, and they had no +good war-cry; what was Mars as a war-cry compared with the name of . +. . ? It was said that they persecuted terribly, but who said +so? The Christians. The Christians could have given them +a lesson in the art of persecution, and eventually did so. None +but Christians have ever been good persecutors; well, the old religion +succumbed, Christianity prevailed, for the ferocious is sure to prevail +over the gentle.”<br> +<br> +“I thought,” said I, “you stated a little time ago +that the Popish religion and the ancient Roman are the same?”<br> +<br> +“In every point but that name, that Krishna and the fury and love +of persecution which it inspired,” said the man in black. +“A hot blast came from the East, sounding Krishna; it absolutely +maddened people’s minds, and the people would call themselves +his children; we will not belong to Jupiter any longer, we will belong +to Krishna, and they did belong to Krishna; that is in name, but in +nothing else; for who ever cared for Krishna in the Christian world, +or who ever regarded the words attributed to him, or put them in practice?”<br> +<br> +“Why, we Protestants regard his words, and endeavour to practise +what they enjoin as much as possible.”<br> +<br> +“But you reject his image,” sad the man in black; “better +reject his words than his image: no religion can exist long which rejects +a good bodily image. Why, the very negro barbarians of High Barbary +could give you a lesson on that point; they have their fetish images, +to which they look for help in their afflictions; they have likewise +a high priest, whom they call - ”<br> +<br> +“Mumbo Jumbo,” said I; “I know all about him already.”<br> +<br> +“How came you to know anything about him?” said the man +in black, with a look of some surprise.<br> +<br> +“Some of us poor Protestants tinkers,” said I, “though +we live in dingles, are also acquainted with a thing or two.”<br> +<br> +“I really believe you are,” said the man in black, staring +at me; “but, in connection with this Mumbo Jumbo, I could relate +to you a comical story about a fellow, an English servant, I once met +at Rome.”<br> +<br> +“It would be quite unnecessary,” said I; “I would +much sooner hear you talk about Krishna, his words and image.”<br> +<br> +“Spoken like a true heretic,” said the man in black; “one +of the faithful would have placed his image before his words; for what +are all the words in the world compared with a good bodily image!”<br> +<br> +“I believe you occasionally quote his words?” said I.<br> +<br> +“He! he!” said the man in black; “occasionally.”<br> +<br> +“For example,” said I, “upon this rock I will found +my church.”<br> +<br> +“He! he!” said the man in black; “you must really +become one of us.”<br> +<br> +“Yet you must have had some difficulty in getting the rock to +Rome?”<br> +<br> +“None whatever,” said the man in black; “faith can +remove mountains, to say nothing of rocks - ho! ho!”<br> +<br> +“But I cannot imagine,” said I, “what advantage you +could derive from perverting those words of Scripture in which the Saviour +talks about eating his body.”<br> +<br> +“I do not know, indeed, why we troubled our heads about the matter +at all,” said the man in black; “but when you talk about +perverting the meaning of the text, you speak ignorantly, Mr. Tinker; +when he whom you call the Saviour gave his followers the sop, and bade +them eat it, telling them it was his body, he delicately alluded to +what it was incumbent upon them to do after his death, namely, to eat +his body.”<br> +<br> +“You do not mean to say that he intended they should actually +eat his body?”<br> +<br> +“Then you suppose ignorantly,” said the man in black; “eating +the bodies of the dead was a heathenish custom, practised by the heirs +and legatees of people who left property; and this custom is alluded +to in the text.”<br> +<br> +“But what has the New Testament to do with heathen customs,” +said I, “except to destroy them?”<br> +<br> +“More than you suppose,” said the man in black. “We +priests of Rome, who have long lived at Rome, know much better what +the New Testament is made of than the heretics and their theologians, +not forgetting their Tinkers; though I confess some of the latter have +occasionally surprised us - for example, Bunyan. The New Testament +is crowded with allusions to heathen customs, and with words connected +with pagan sorcery. Now, with respect to words, I would fain have +you, who pretend to be a philologist, tell me the meaning of Amen.”<br> +<br> +I made no answer.<br> +<br> +“We of Rome,” said the man in black, “know two or +three things of which the heretics are quite ignorant; for example, +there are those amongst us - those, too, who do not pretend to be philologists +- who know what Amen is, and, moreover, how we got it. We got +it from our ancestors, the priests of ancient Rome; and they got the +word from their ancestors of the East, the priests of Buddh and Brahma.”<br> +<br> +“And what is the meaning of the word?” I demanded.<br> +<br> +“Amen,” said the man in black, “is a modification +of the old Hindoo formula, Omani batsikhom, by the almost ceaseless +repetition of which the Indians hope to be received finally to the rest +or state of forgetfulness of Buddh or Brahma; a foolish practice you +will say, but are you heretics much wiser, who are continually sticking +Amen to the end of your prayers, little knowing when you do so, that +you are consigning yourselves to the repose of Buddh! Oh, what +hearty laughs our missionaries have had when comparing the eternally-sounding +Eastern gibberish of Omani batsikhom, Omani batsikhom, and the Ave Maria +and Amen Jesus of our own idiotical devotees.”<br> +<br> +“I have nothing to say about the Ave Marias and Amens of your +superstitious devotees,” said I; “I dare say that they use +them nonsensically enough, but in putting Amen to the end of a prayer, +we merely intend to express, ‘So let it be.’”<br> +<br> +“It means nothing of the kind,” said the man in black; “and +the Hindoos might just as well put your national oath at the end of +their prayers, as perhaps they will after a great many thousand years, +when English is forgotten, and only a few words of it remembered by +dim tradition without being understood. How strange if, after +the lapse of four thousand years, the Hindoos should damn themselves +to the blindness so dear to their present masters, even as their masters +at present consign themselves to the forgetfulness so dear to the Hindoos; +but my glass has been empty for a considerable time; perhaps, Bellissima +Biondina,” said he, addressing Belle, “you will deign to +replenish it?”<br> +<br> +“I shall do no such thing,” said Belle, “you have +drunk quite enough, and talked more than enough, and to tell you the +truth I wish you would leave us alone.”<br> +<br> +“Shame on you, Belle,” said I; “consider the obligations +of hospitality.”<br> +<br> +“I am sick of that word,” said Belle, “you are so +frequently misusing it; were this place not Mumpers’ Dingle, and +consequently as free to the fellow as ourselves, I would lead him out +of it.”<br> +<br> +“Pray be quiet, Belle,” said I. “You had better +help yourself,” said I, addressing myself to the man in black, +“the lady is angry with you.”<br> +<br> +“I am sorry for it,” said the man in black; “if she +is angry with me, I am not so with her, and shall be always proud to +wait upon her; in the meantime, I will wait upon myself.”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER IV<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The Proposal - The Scotch Novel - Latitude - Miracles - Pestilent Heretics +- Old Fraser - Wonderful Texts - No Armenian.<br> +<br> +<br> +The man in black having helped himself to some more of his favourite +beverage, and tasted it, I thus addressed him: “The evening is +getting rather advanced, and I can see that this lady,” pointing +to Belle, “is anxious for her tea, which she prefers to take cosily +and comfortably with me in the dingle: the place, it is true, is as +free to you as to ourselves, nevertheless, as we are located here by +necessity, whilst you merely come as a visitor, I must take the liberty +of telling you that we shall be glad to be alone, as soon as you have +said what you have to say, and have finished the glass of refreshment +at present in your hand. I think you said some time ago that one +of your motives for coming hither was to induce me to enlist under the +banner of Rome. I wish to know whether that was really the case?”<br> +<br> +“Decidedly so,” said the man in black; “I come here +principally in the hope of enlisting you in our regiment, in which I +have no doubt you could do us excellent service.”<br> +<br> +“Would you enlist my companion as well?” I demanded.<br> +<br> +“We should be only too proud to have her among us, whether she +comes with you or alone,” said the man in black, with a polite +bow to Belle.<br> +<br> +“Before we give you an answer,” I replied, “I would +fain know more about you; perhaps you will declare your name?”<br> +<br> +“That I will never do,” said the man in black; “no +one in England knows it but myself, and I will not declare it, even +in a dingle; as for the rest, <i>Sono un Prete Cattolico</i> <i>Appostolico</i> +- that is all that many a one of us can say for himself, and it assuredly +means a great deal.”<br> +<br> +“We will now proceed to business,” said I. “You +must be aware that we English are generally considered a self-interested +people.”<br> +<br> +“And with considerable justice,” said the man in black, +drinking. “Well, you are a person of acute perception, and +I will presently make it evident to you that it would be to your interest +to join with us. You are at present, evidently, in very needy +circumstances, and are lost, not only to yourself, but to the world; +but should you enlist with us, I could find you an occupation not only +agreeable, but one in which your talents would have free scope. +I would introduce you in the various grand houses here in England, to +which I have myself admission, as a surprising young gentleman of infinite +learning, who by dint of study has discovered that the Roman is the +only true faith. I tell you confidently that our popish females +would make a saint, nay, a God of you; they are fools enough for anything. +There is one person in particular with whom I would wish to make you +acquainted, in the hope that you would be able to help me to perform +good service to the holy see. He is a gouty old fellow, of some +learning, residing in an old hall, near the great western seaport, and +is one of the very few amongst the English Catholics possessing a grain +of sense. I think you could help us to govern him, for he is not +unfrequently disposed to be restive, asks us strange questions - occasionally +threatens us with his crutch; and behaves so that we are often afraid +that we shall lose him, or, rather, his property, which he has bequeathed +to us, and which is enormous. I am sure that you could help us +to deal with him; sometimes with your humour, sometimes with your learning, +and perhaps occasionally with your fists.”<br> +<br> +“And in what manner would you provide for my companion?” +said I.<br> +<br> +“We would place her at once,” said the man in black, “in +the house of two highly respectable Catholic ladies in this neighbourhood, +where she would be treated with every care and consideration till her +conversion should be accomplished in a regular manner; we would then +remove her to a female monastic establishment, where, after undergoing +a year’s probation, during which time she would be instructed +in every elegant accomplishment, she should take the veil. Her +advancement would speedily follow, for, with such a face and figure, +she would make a capital lady abbess, especially in Italy, to which +country she would probably be sent; ladies of her hair and complexion +- to say nothing of her height - being a curiosity in the south. +With a little care and management she could soon obtain a vast reputation +for sanctity; and who knows but after her death she might become a glorified +saint - he! he! Sister Maria Theresa, for that is the name I propose +you should bear. Holy Mother Maria Theresa - glorified and celestial +saint, I have the honour of drinking to your health,” and the +man in black drank.<br> +<br> +“Well, Belle,” said I, “what have you to say to the +gentleman’s proposal?”<br> +<br> +“That if he goes on in this way I will break his glass against +his mouth.”<br> +<br> +“You have heard the lady’s answer,” said I.<br> +<br> +“I have,” said the man in black, “and shall not press +the matter. I can’t help, however, repeating that she would +make a capital lady abbess; she would keep the nuns in order, I warrant +her; no easy matter! Break the glass against my mouth - he! he! +How she would send the holy utensils flying at the nuns’ heads +occasionally, and just the person to wring the nose of Satan, should +he venture to appear one night in her cell in the shape of a handsome +black man. No offence, madam, no offence, pray retain your seat,” +said he, observing that Belle had started up; “I mean no offence. +Well, if you will not consent to be an abbess, perhaps you will consent +to follow this young Zingaro, and to co-operate with him and us. +I am a priest, madam, and can join you both in an instant, <i>connubio</i> +<i>stabili</i>, as I suppose the knot has not been tied already.”<br> +<br> +“Hold your mumping gibberish,” said Belle, “and leave +the dingle this moment, for though ‘tis free to every one, you +have no right to insult me in it.”<br> +<br> +“Pray be pacified,” said I to Belle, getting up, and placing +myself between her and the man in black, “he will presently leave, +take my word for it - there, sit down again,” said I, as I led +her to her seat; then, resuming my own, I said to the man in black: +“I advise you to leave the dingle as soon as possible.”<br> +<br> +“I should wish to have your answer to my proposal first,” +said he.<br> +<br> +“Well, then, here you shall have it: I will not entertain your +proposal; I detest your schemes: they are both wicked and foolish.”<br> +<br> +“Wicked,” said the man in black, “have they not - +he! he! - the furtherance of religion in view?”<br> +<br> +“A religion,” said I, “in which you yourself do not +believe, and which you contemn.”<br> +<br> +“Whether I believe in it or not,” said the man in black, +“it is adapted for the generality of the human race; so I will +forward it, and advise you to do the same. It was nearly extirpated +in these regions, but it is springing up again, owing to circumstances. +Radicalism is a good friend to us; all the liberals laud up our system +out of hatred to the Established Church, though our system is ten times +less liberal than the Church of England. Some of them have really +come over to us. I myself confess a baronet who presided over +the first radical meeting ever held in England - he was an atheist when +he came over to us, in the hope of mortifying his own church - but he +is now - ho! ho! - a real Catholic devotee - quite afraid of my threats; +I make him frequently scourge himself before me. Well, Radicalism +does us good service, especially amongst the lower classes, for Radicalism +chiefly flourishes amongst them; for though a baronet or two may be +found amongst the radicals, and perhaps as many lords - fellows who +have been discarded by their own order for clownishness, or something +they have done - it incontestably flourishes best among the lower orders. +Then the love of what is foreign is a great friend to us; this love +is chiefly confined to the middle and upper classes. Some admire +the French, and imitate them; others must needs be Spaniards, dress +themselves up in a zamarra, stick a cigar in their mouth, and say, ‘Carajo.’ +Others would pass for Germans; he! he! the idea of any one wishing to +pass for a German! but what has done us more service than anything else +in these regions - I mean amidst the middle classes - has been the novel, +the Scotch novel. The good folks, since they have read the novels, +have become Jacobites; and, because all the Jacobs were Papists, the +good folks must become Papists also, or, at least, papistically inclined. +The very Scotch Presbyterians, since they have read the novels, are +become all but Papists; I speak advisedly, having lately been amongst +them. There’s a trumpery bit of a half papist sect, called +the Scotch Episcopalian Church, which lay dormant and nearly forgotten +for upwards of a hundred years, which has of late got wonderfully into +fashion in Scotland, because, forsooth, some of the long-haired gentry +of the novels were said to belong to it, such as Montrose and Dundee; +and to this the Presbyterians are going over in throngs, traducing and +vilifying their own forefathers, or denying them altogether, and calling +themselves descendants of - ho! ho! ho! - Scottish Cavaliers!!! +I have heard them myself repeating snatches of Jacobite ditties about +‘Bonnie Dundee,’ and -<br> +<br> +<br> +“‘Come, fill up my cup, and fill up my can,<br> +And saddle my horse, and call up my man.’<br> +<br> +<br> +There’s stuff for you! Not that I object to the first part +of the ditty. It is natural enough that a Scotchman should cry, +‘Come, fill up my cup!’ more especially if he’s drinking +at another person’s expense - all Scotchmen being fond of liquor +at free cost: but ‘Saddle his horse!!!’ - for what purpose, +I would ask? Where is the use of saddling a horse, unless you +can ride him? and where was there ever a Scotchman who could ride?”<br> +<br> +“Of course you have not a drop of Scotch blood in your veins,” +said I, “otherwise you would never have uttered that last sentence.”<br> +<br> +“Don’t be too sure of that,” said the man in black; +“you know little of Popery if you imagine that it cannot extinguish +love of country, even in a Scotchman. A thorough-going Papist +- and who more thorough-going than myself? - cares nothing for his country; +and why should he? he belongs to a system, and not to a country.”<br> +<br> +“One thing,” said I, “connected with you, I cannot +understand; you call yourself a thorough-going Papist, yet are continually +saying the most pungent things against Popery, and turning to unbounded +ridicule those who show any inclination to embrace it.”<br> +<br> +“Rome is a very sensible old body,” said the man in black, +“and little cares what her children say, provided they do her +bidding. She knows several things, and amongst others, that no +servants work so hard and faithfully as those who curse their masters +at every stroke they do. She was not fool enough to be angry with +the Miquelets of Alba, who renounced her, and called her ‘puta’ +all the time they were cutting the throats of the Netherlanders. +Now, if she allowed her faithful soldiers the latitude of renouncing +her, and calling her ‘puta’ in the market-place, think not +she is so unreasonable as to object to her faithful priests occasionally +calling her ‘puta’ in the dingle.”<br> +<br> +“But,” said I, “suppose some one were to tell the +world some of the disorderly things which her priests say in the dingle?”<br> +<br> +“He would have the fate of Cassandra,” said the man in black; +“no one would believe him - yes, the priests would: but they would +make no sign of belief. They believe in the Alcoran des Cordeliers +- that is, those who have read it; but they make no sign.”<br> +<br> +“A pretty system,” said I, “which extinguishes love +of country and of everything noble, and brings the minds of its ministers +to a parity with those of devils, who delight in nothing but mischief.”<br> +<br> +“The system,” said the man in black, “is a grand one, +with unbounded vitality. Compare it with your Protestantism, and +you will see the difference. Popery is ever at work, whilst Protestantism +is supine. A pretty church, indeed, the Protestant! Why, +it can’t even work a miracle.”<br> +<br> +“Can your church work miracles?” I demanded.<br> +<br> +“That was the very question,” said the man in black, “which +the ancient British clergy asked of Austin Monk, after they had been +fools enough to acknowledge their own inability. ‘We don’t +pretend to work miracles; do you?’ ‘Oh! dear me, yes,’ +said Austin; ‘we find no difficulty in the matter. We can +raise the dead, we can make the blind see; and to convince you, I will +give sight to the blind. Here is this blind Saxon, whom you cannot +cure, but on whose eyes I will manifest my power, in order to show the +difference between the true and the false church;’ and forthwith, +with the assistance of a handkerchief and a little hot water, he opened +the eyes of the barbarian. So we manage matters! A pretty +church, that old British church, which could not work miracles - quite +as helpless as the modern one. The fools! was birdlime so scarce +a thing amongst them? - and were the properties of warm water so unknown +to them, that they could not close a pair of eyes and open them?”<br> +<br> +“It’s a pity,” said I, “that the British clergy +at that interview with Austin, did not bring forward a blind Welshman, +and ask the monk to operate upon him.”<br> +<br> +“Clearly,” said the man in black; “that’s what +they ought to have done; but they were fools without a single resource.” +Here he took a sip at his glass.<br> +<br> +“But they did not believe in the miracle?” said I.<br> +<br> +“And what did their not believing avail them?” said the +man in black. “Austin remained master of the field, and +they went away holding their heads down, and muttering to themselves. +What a fine subject for a painting would be Austin’s opening the +eyes of the Saxon barbarian, and the discomfiture of the British clergy! +I wonder it has not been painted! - he! he!”<br> +<br> +“I suppose your church still performs miracles occasionally!” +said I.<br> +<br> +“It does,” said the man in black. “The Rev. +- has lately been performing miracles in Ireland, destroying devils +that had got possession of people; he has been eminently successful. +In two instances he not only destroyed the devils, but the lives of +the people possessed - he! he! Oh! there is so much energy in +our system; we are always at work, whilst Protestantism is supine.”<br> +<br> +“You must not imagine,” said I, “that all Protestants +are supine; some of them appear to be filled with unbounded zeal. +They deal, it is true, not in lying miracles, but they propagate God’s +Word. I remember only a few months ago, having occasion for a +Bible, going to an establishment, the object of which was to send Bibles +all over the world. The supporters of that establishment could +have no self-interested views; for I was supplied by them with a noble-sized +Bible at a price so small as to preclude the idea that it could bring +any profit to the vendors.”<br> +<br> +The countenance of the man in black slightly fell. “I know +the people to whom you allude,” said he; “indeed, unknown +to them, I have frequently been to see them, and observed their ways. +I tell you frankly that there is not a set of people in this kingdom +who have caused our church so much trouble and uneasiness. I should +rather say that they alone cause us any; for as for the rest, what with +their drowsiness, their plethora, their folly and their vanity, they +are doing us anything but mischief. These fellows are a pestilent +set of heretics, whom we would gladly see burnt; they are, with the +most untiring perseverance, and in spite of divers minatory declarations +of the holy father, scattering their books abroad through all Europe, +and have caused many people in Catholic countries to think that hitherto +their priesthood have endeavoured, as much as possible, to keep them +blinded. There is one fellow amongst them for whom we entertain +a particular aversion; a big, burly parson, with the face of a lion, +the voice of a buffalo, and a fist like a sledge-hammer. The last +time I was there, I observed that his eye was upon me, and I did not +like the glance he gave me at all; I observed him clench his fist, and +I took my departure as fast as I conveniently could. Whether he +suspected who I was, I know not; but I did not like his look at all, +and do not intend to go again.”<br> +<br> +“Well, then,” said I, “you confess that you have redoubtable +enemies to your plans in these regions, and that even amongst the ecclesiastics +there are some widely different from those of the plethoric and Platitude +schools?”<br> +<br> +“It is but too true,” said the man in black; “and +if the rest of your church were like them we should quickly bid adieu +to all hope of converting these regions, but we are thankful to be able +to say that such folks are not numerous; there are, moreover, causes +at work quite sufficient to undermine even their zeal. Their sons +return at the vacations, from Oxford and Cambridge, puppies, full of +the nonsense which they have imbibed from Platitude professors; and +this nonsense they retail at home, where it fails not to make some impression, +whilst the daughters scream - I beg their pardons - warble about Scotland’s +Montrose and Bonny Dundee, and all the Jacobs; so we have no doubt that +their papas’ zeal about the propagation of such a vulgar book +as the Bible will in a very little time be terribly diminished. +Old Rome will win, so you had better join her.”<br> +<br> +And the man in black drained the last drop in his glass.<br> +<br> +“Never,” said I, “will I become the slave of Rome.”<br> +<br> +“She will allow you latitude,” said the man in black; “do +but serve her, and she will allow you to call her ‘puta’ +at a decent time and place, her popes occasionally call her ‘puta.’ +A pope has been known to start from his bed at midnight and rush out +into the corridor, and call out ‘puta’ three times in a +voice which pierced the Vatican; that pope was - ”<br> +<br> +“Alexander the Sixth, I dare say,” said I; “the greatest +monster that ever existed, though the worthiest head which the pope +system ever had - so his conscience was not always still. I thought +it had been seared with a brand of iron.”<br> +<br> +“I did not allude to him, but to a much more modern pope,” +said the man in black; “it is true he brought the word, which +is Spanish, from Spain, his native country, to Rome. He was very +fond of calling the church by that name, and other popes have taken +it up. She will allow you to call her by it, if you belong to +her.”<br> +<br> +“I shall call her so,” said I, “without belonging +to her, or asking her permission.”<br> +<br> +“She will allow you to treat her as such, if you belong to her,” +said the man in black; “there is a chapel in Rome, where there +is a wondrously fair statue - the son of a cardinal - I mean his nephew +- once - Well, she did not cut off his head, but slightly boxed his +cheek and bade him go.”<br> +<br> +“I have read all about that in ‘Keysler’s Travels,’” +said I; “do you tell her that I would not touch her with a pair +of tongs, unless to seize her nose.”<br> +<br> +“She is fond of lucre,” said the man in black; “but +does not grudge a faithful priest a little private perquisite,” +and he took out a very handsome gold repeater.<br> +<br> +“Are you not afraid,” said I, “to flash that watch +before the eyes of a poor tinker in a dingle?”<br> +<br> +“Not before the eyes of one like you,” said the man in black.<br> +<br> +“It is getting late,” said I; “I care not for perquisites.”<br> +<br> +“So you will not join us?” said the man in black.<br> +<br> +“You have had my answer,” said I.<br> +<br> +“If I belong to Rome,” said the man in black, “why +should not you?”<br> +<br> +“I may be a poor tinker,” said I; “but I may never +have undergone what you have. You remember, perhaps, the fable +of the fox who had lost his tail?”<br> +<br> +The man in black winced, but almost immediately recovering himself, +he said, “Well, we can do without you, we are sure of winning.”<br> +<br> +“It is not the part of wise people,” said I, “to make +sure of the battle before it is fought: there’s the landlord of +the public-house, who made sure that his cocks would win, yet the cocks +lost the main, and the landlord is little better than a bankrupt.”<br> +<br> +“People very different from the landlord,” said the man +in black, “both in intellect and station, think we shall surely +win; there are clever machinators among us who have no doubt of our +success.”<br> +<br> +“Well,” said I, “I will set the landlord aside, and +will adduce one who was in every point a very different person from +the landlord, both in understanding and station; he was very fond of +laying schemes, and, indeed, many of them turned out successful. +His last and darling one, however, miscarried, notwithstanding that +by his calculations he had persuaded himself that there was no possibility +of its failing - the person that I allude to was old Fraser - ”<br> +<br> +“Who?” said the man in black, giving a start, and letting +his glass fall.<br> +<br> +“Old Fraser, of Lovat,” said I, “the prince of all +conspirators and machinators; he made sure of placing the Pretender +on the throne of these realms. ‘I can bring into the field +so many men,’ said he; ‘my son-in-law Cluny, so many, and +likewise my cousin, and my good friend;’ then speaking of those +on whom the government reckoned for support, he would say, ‘So +and so are lukewarm, this person is ruled by his wife, who is with us, +the clergy are anything but hostile to us, and as for the soldiers and +sailors, half are disaffected to King George, and the rest cowards.’ +Yet when things came to a trial, this person whom he had calculated +upon to join the Pretender did not stir from his home, another joined +the hostile ranks, the presumed cowards turned out heroes, and those +whom he thought heroes ran away like lusty fellows at Culloden; in a +word, he found himself utterly mistaken, and in nothing more than in +himself; he thought he was a hero, and proved himself nothing more than +an old fox; he got up a hollow tree, didn’t he, just like a fox?<br> +<br> +<br> +“‘L’opere sue non furon leonine, ma di volpe.’”<br> +<br> +<br> +The man in black sat silent for a considerable time, and at length answered +in rather a faltering voice, “I was not prepared for this; you +have frequently surprised me by your knowledge of things which I should +never have expected any person of your appearance to be acquainted with, +but that you should be aware of my name is a circumstance utterly incomprehensible +to me. I had imagined that no person in England was acquainted +with it; indeed, I don’t see how any person should be, I have +revealed it to no one, not being particularly proud of it. Yes, +I acknowledge that my name is Fraser, and that I am of the blood of +that family or clan, of which the rector of our college once said, that +he was firmly of opinion that every individual member was either rogue +or fool. I was born at Madrid, of pure, <i>oimè</i>, Fraser +blood. My parents, at an early age, took me to -, where they shortly +died, not, however, before they had placed me in the service of a cardinal, +with whom I continued for some years, and who, when he had no further +occasion for me, sent me to the college, in the left-hand cloister of +which, as you enter, rest the bones of Sir John -; there, in studying +logic and humane letters, I lost whatever of humanity I had retained +when discarded by the cardinal. Let me not, however, forget two +points, - I am a Fraser, it is true, but not a Flannagan; I may bear +the vilest name of Britain, but not of Ireland; I was bred up at the +English house, and there is at - a house for the education of bogtrotters; +I was not bred up at that; beneath the lowest gulf, there is one yet +lower; whatever my blood may be, it is at least not Irish; whatever +my education may have been, I was not bred at the Irish seminary - on +those accounts I am thankful - yes, <i>per</i> <i>dio</i>! I am +thankful. After some years at college - but why should I tell +you my history? you know it already perfectly well, probably much better +than myself. I am now a missionary priest, labouring in heretic +England, like Parsons and Garnet of old, save and except that, unlike +them, I run no danger, for the times are changed. As I told you +before, I shall cleave to Rome - I must; <i>no</i> <i>hay remedio</i>, +as they say at Madrid, and I will do my best to further her holy plans +- he! he! - but I confess I begin to doubt of their being successful +here - you put me out; old Fraser, of Lovat! I have heard my father +talk of him; he had a gold-headed cane, with which he once knocked my +grandfather down - he was an astute one, but, as you say, mistaken, +particularly in himself. I have read his life by Arbuthnot, it +is in the library of our college. Farewell! I shall come +no more to this dingle - to come would be of no utility; I shall go +and labour elsewhere, though - how you came to know my name, is a fact +quite inexplicable - farewell! to you both.”<br> +<br> +He then arose; and without further salutation departed from the dingle, +in which I never saw him again. “How, in the name of wonder, +came you to know that man’s name?” said Belle, after he +had been gone some time.<br> +<br> +“I, Belle? I knew nothing of the fellow’s name, I +assure you.”<br> +<br> +“But you mentioned his name.”<br> +<br> +“If I did, it was merely casually, by way of illustration. +I was saying how frequently cunning people were mistaken in their calculations, +and I adduced the case of old Fraser, of Lovat, as one in point; I brought +forward his name, because I was well acquainted with his history, from +having compiled and inserted it in a wonderful work, which I edited +some months ago, entitled ‘Newgate Lives and Trials,’ but +without the slightest idea that it was the name of him who was sitting +with us; he, however, thought that I was aware of his name. Belle! +Belle! for a long time I doubted the truth of Scripture, owing to certain +conceited individuals, but now I begin to believe firmly; what wonderful +texts are in Scripture, Belle; ‘The wicked trembleth where - where +- ’”<br> +<br> +“‘They were afraid where no fear was; thou hast put them +to confusion, because God hath despised them,’” said Belle; +“I have frequently read it before the clergyman in the great house +of Long Melford. But if you did not know the man’s name, +why let him go away supposing that you did?”<br> +<br> +“Oh, if he was fool enough to make such a mistake, I was not going +to undeceive him - no, no! Let the enemies of old England make +the most of all their blunders and mistakes, they will have no help +from me; but enough of the fellow, Belle; let us now have tea, and after +that - ”<br> +<br> +“No Armenian,” said Belle; “but I want to ask a question: +pray are all people of that man’s name either rogues or fools?”<br> +<br> +“It is impossible for me to say, Belle, this person being the +only one of the name I have ever personally known. I suppose there +are good and bad, clever and foolish, amongst them, as amongst all large +bodies of people; however, after the tribe had been governed for upwards +of thirty years, by such a person as old Fraser, it were no wonder if +the greater part had become either rogues or fools: he was a ruthless +tyrant, Belle, over his own people, and by his cruelty and rapaciousness +must either have stunned them into an apathy approaching to idiotcy, +or made them artful knaves in their own defence. The qualities +of parents are generally transmitted to their descendants - the progeny +of trained pointers are almost sure to point, even without being taught: +if, therefore, all Frasers are either rogues or fools, as this person +seems to insinuate, it is little to be wondered at, their parents or +grandparents having been in the training-school of old Fraser! +But enough of the old tyrant and his slaves. Belle, prepare tea +this moment, or dread my anger. I have not a gold-headed cane +like old Fraser of Lovat, but I have, what some people would dread much +more, an Armenian rune-stick.”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER V<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Fresh Arrivals - Pitching the Tent - Certificated Wife - High-flying +Notions.<br> +<br> +<br> +On the following morning, as I was about to leave my tent, I heard the +voice of Belle at the door, exclaiming, “Sleepest thou, or wakest +thou?” “I was never more awake in my life,” +said I, going out. “What is the matter?” “He +of the horse-shoe,” said she, “Jasper, of whom I have heard +you talk, is above there on the field with all his people; I went out +about a quarter of an hour ago to fill the kettle at the spring, and +saw them arriving. “It is well,” said I; “have +you any objection to asking him and his wife to breakfast?” +“You can do as you please,” said she; “I have cups +enough, and have no objection to their company.” “We +are the first occupiers of the ground,” said I, “and, being +so, should consider ourselves in the light of hosts, and do our best +to practise the duties of hospitality.” “How fond +you are of using that word,” said Belle; “if you wish to +invite the man and his wife, do so, without more ado; remember, however, +that I have not cups enough, nor indeed tea enough, for the whole company.” +Thereupon hurrying up the ascent, I presently found myself outside the +dingle. It was as usual a brilliant morning, the dewy blades of +the rye-grass which covered the plain sparkled brightly in the beams +of the sun, which had probably been about two hours above the horizon. +A rather numerous body of my ancient friends and allies occupied the +ground in the vicinity of the mouth of the dingle. About five +yards on the right I perceived Mr. Petulengro busily employed in erecting +his tent; he held in his hand an iron bar, sharp at the bottom, with +a kind of arm projecting from the top for the purpose of supporting +a kettle or cauldron over the fire, and which is called in the Romanian +language “Kekauviskoe saster.” With the sharp end +of this Mr. Petulengro was making holes in the earth, at about twenty +inches distant from each other, into which he inserted certain long +rods with a considerable bend towards the top, which constituted no +less than the timber of the tent, and the supporters of the canvas. +Mrs. Petulengro, and a female with a crutch in her hand, whom I recognised +as Mrs. Chikno, sat near him on the ground, whilst two or three children, +from six to ten years old, who composed the young family of Mr. and +Mrs. Petulengro, were playing about.<br> +<br> +“Here we are, brother,” said Mr. Petulengro, as he drove +the sharp end of the bar into the ground; “here we are, and plenty +of us - Bute dosta Romany chals.”<br> +<br> +“I am glad to see you all,” said I; “and particularly +you, madam,” said I, making a bow to Mrs. Petulengro; “and +you also, madam,” taking off my hat to Mrs. Chikno.<br> +<br> +“Good-day to you, sir,” said Mrs. Petulengro; “you +look, as usual, charmingly, and speak so, too; you have not forgot your +manners.”<br> +<br> +“It is not all gold that glitters,” said Mrs. Chikno. +“However, good-morrow to you, young rye.”<br> +<br> +“I do not see Tawno,” said I, looking around; “where +is he?”<br> +<br> +“Where, indeed!” said Mrs. Chikno; “I don’t +know; he who countenances him in the roving line can best answer.”<br> +<br> +“He will be here anon,” said Mr. Petulengro; “he has +merely ridden down a by-road to show a farmer a two-year-old colt; she +heard me give him directions, but she can’t be satisfied.”<br> +<br> +“I can’t indeed,” said Mrs. Chikno.<br> +<br> +“And why not, sister?”<br> +<br> +“Because I place no confidence in your words, brother; as I said +before, you countenances him.”<br> +<br> +“Well,” said I, “I know nothing of your private concerns; +I am come on an errand. Isopel Berners, down in the dell there, +requests the pleasure of Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro’s company at +breakfast. She will be happy also to see you, madam,” said +I, addressing Mrs. Chikno.<br> +<br> +“Is that young female your wife, young man?” said Mrs. Chikno.<br> +<br> +“My wife?” said I.<br> +<br> +“Yes, young man; your wife, your lawful certificated wife?”<br> +<br> +“No,” said I; “she is not my wife.”<br> +<br> +“Then I will not visit with her,” said Mrs. Chikno; “I +countenance nothing in the roving line.”<br> +<br> +“What do you mean by the roving line?” I demanded.<br> +<br> +“What do I mean by the roving line? Why, by it I mean such +conduct as is not tatcheno. When ryes and rawnies live together +in dingles, without being certificated, I call such behaviour being +tolerably deep in the roving line, everything savouring of which I am +determined not to sanctify. I have suffered too much by my own +certificated husband’s outbreaks in that line to afford anything +of the kind the slightest shadow of countenance.”<br> +<br> +“It is hard that people may not live in dingles together without +being suspected of doing wrong,” said I.<br> +<br> +“So it is,” said Mrs. Petulengro, interposing; “and, +to tell you the truth, I am altogether surprised at the illiberality +of my sister’s remarks. I have often heard say, that it +is in good company - and I have kept good company in my time - that +suspicion is king’s evidence of a narrow and uncultivated mind; +on which account I am suspicious of nobody, not even of my own husband, +whom some people would think I have a right to be suspicious of, seeing +that on his account I once refused a lord; but ask him whether I am +suspicious of him, and whether I seek to keep him close tied to my apron-string; +he will tell you nothing of the kind; but that, on the contrary, I always +allows him an agreeable latitude, permitting him to go where he pleases, +and to converse with any one to whose manner of speaking he may take +a fancy. But I have had the advantage of keeping good company, +and therefore - ”<br> +<br> +“Meklis,” said Mrs. Chikno, “pray drop all that, sister; +I believe I have kept as good company as yourself; and with respect +to that offer with which you frequently fatigue those who keeps company +with you, I believe, after all, it was something in the roving and uncertificated +line.”<br> +<br> +“In whatever line it was,” said Mrs. Petulengro, “the +offer was a good one. The young duke - for he was not only a lord, +but a duke too - offered to keep me a fine carriage, and to make me +his second wife; for it is true that he had another who was old and +stout, though mighty rich, and highly good-natured; so much so, indeed, +that the young lord assured me that she would have no manner of objection +to the arrangement; more especially if I would consent to live in the +same house with her, being fond of young and cheerful society. +So you see - ”<br> +<br> +“Yes, yes,” said Mrs. Chikno, “I see, what I before +thought, that it was altogether in the uncertificated line.”<br> +<br> +“Meklis,” said Mrs. Petulengro; “I use your own word, +madam, which is Romany: for my own part, I am not fond of using Romany +words, unless I can hope to pass them off for French, which I cannot +in the present company. I heartily wish that there was no such +language, and do my best to keep it away from my children, lest the +frequent use of it should altogether confirm them in low and vulgar +habits. I have four children, madam, but - ”<br> +<br> +“I suppose by talking of your four children you wish to check +me for having none,” said Mrs. Chikno, bursting into tears; “if +I have no children, sister, it is no fault of mine, it is - but why +do I call you sister?” said she, angrily; “you are no sister +of mine, you are a grasni, a regular mare - a pretty sister, indeed, +ashamed of your own language. I remember well that by your high-flying +notions you drove your own mother - ”<br> +<br> +“We will drop it,” said Mrs. Petulengro; “I do not +wish to raise my voice, and to make myself ridiculous. Young gentleman,” +said she, “pray present my compliments to Miss Isopel Berners, +and inform her that I am very sorry that I cannot accept her polite +invitation. I am just arrived, and have some slight domestic matters +to see to - amongst others, to wash my children’s faces; but that +in the course of the forenoon, when I have attended to what I have to +do, and have dressed myself, I hope to do myself the honour of paying +her a regular visit; you will tell her that, with my compliments. +With respect to my husband he can answer for himself, as I, not being +of a jealous disposition, never interferes with his matters.”<br> +<br> +“And tell Miss Berners,” said Mr. Petulengro, “that +I shall be happy to wait upon her in company with my wife as soon as +we are regularly settled: at present I have much on my hands, having +not only to pitch my own tent, but this here jealous woman’s, +whose husband is absent on my business.”<br> +<br> +Thereupon I returned to the dingle, and, without saying anything about +Mrs. Chikno’s observations, communicated to Isopel the messages +of Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro; Isopel made no other reply than by replacing +in her coffer two additional cups and saucers, which, in expectation +of company, she had placed upon the board. The kettle was by this +time boiling. We sat down, and, as we breakfasted, I gave Isopel +Berners another lesson in the Armenian language.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER VI<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The Promised Visit - Roman Fashion - Wizard and Witch - Catching at +Words - The Two Females - Dressing of Hair - The New Roads - Belle’s +Altered Appearance - Herself Again.<br> +<br> +<br> +About mid-day Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro came to the dingle to pay the +promised visit. Belle, at the time of their arrival, was in her +tent, but I was at the fire-place, engaged in hammering part of the +outer-tire, or defence, which had come off from one of the wheels of +my vehicle. On perceiving them I forthwith went to receive them. +Mr. Petulengro was dressed in Roman fashion, with a somewhat smartly-cut +sporting-coat, the buttons of which were half-crowns - and a waistcoat, +scarlet and black, the buttons of which were spaded half-guineas; his +breeches were of a stuff half velveteen, half corduroy, the cords exceedingly +broad. He had leggings of buff cloth, furred at the bottom; and +upon his feet were highlows. Under his left arm was a long black +whalebone riding-whip, with a red lash, and an immense silver knob. +Upon his head was a hat with a high peak, somewhat of the kind which +the Spaniards call <i>calané</i>, so much in favour with the +bravos of Seville and Madrid. Now, when I have added that Mr. +Petulengro had on a very fine white holland shirt, I think I have described +his array. Mrs. Petulengro - I beg pardon for not having spoken +of her first - was also arrayed very much in the Roman fashion. +Her hair, which was exceedingly black and lustrous, fell in braids on +either side of her head. In her ears were rings, with long drops +of gold. Round her neck was a string of what seemed very much +like very large pearls, somewhat tarnished, however, and apparently +of considerable antiquity. “Here we are, brother,” +said Mr. Petulengro; “here we are, come to see you - wizard and +witch, witch and wizard:-<br> +<br> +<br> +“‘There’s a chovahanee, and a chovahano,<br> +The nav se len is Petulengro.’”<br> +<br> +<br> +“Hold your tongue, sir,” said Mrs. Petulengro; “you +make me ashamed of you with your vulgar ditties. We are come a +visiting now, and everything low should be left behind.”<br> +<br> +“True,” said Mr. Petulengro; “why bring what’s +low to the dingle, which is low enough already?”<br> +<br> +“What, are you a catcher at words?” said I. “I +thought that catching at words had been confined to the pothouse farmers +and village witty bodies.”<br> +<br> +“All fools,” said Mrs. Petulengro, “catch at words, +and very naturally, as by so doing they hope to prevent the possibility +of rational conversation. Catching at words confined to pothouse +farmers, and village witty bodies! No, not to Jasper Petulengro. +Listen for an hour or two to the discourse of a set they call newspaper +editors, and if you don’t go out and eat grass, as a dog does +when he is sick, I am no female woman. The young lord whose hand +I refused when I took up with wise Jasper, once brought two of them +to my mother’s tan, when hankering after my company; they did +nothing but carp at each other’s words, and a pretty hand they +made of it. Ill-favoured dogs they were; and their attempts at +what they called wit almost as unfortunate as their countenances.”<br> +<br> +“Well,” said I, “madam, we will drop all catchings +and carpings for the present. Pray take your seat on this stool, +whilst I go and announce to Miss Isopel Berners your arrival.”<br> +<br> +Thereupon I went to Belle’s habitation, and informed her that +Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro had paid us a visit of ceremony, and were awaiting +her at the fire-place. “Pray go and tell them that I am +busy,” said Belle, who was engaged with her needle. “I +do not feel disposed to take part in any such nonsense.” +“I shall do no such thing,” said I; “and I insist +upon your coming forthwith, and showing proper courtesy to your visitors. +If you do not, their feelings will be hurt, and you are aware that I +cannot bear that people’s feelings should be outraged. Come +this moment, or - ” “Or what?” said Belle, half +smiling. “I was about to say something in Armenian,” +said I. “Well,” said Belle, laying down her work, +“I will come.” “Stay,” said I; “your +hair is hanging about your ears, and your dress is in disorder; you +had better stay a minute or two to prepare yourself to appear before +your visitors, who have come in their very best attire.” +“No,” said Belle, “I will make no alteration in my +appearance; you told me to come this moment, and you shall be obeyed.” +So Belle and I advanced towards our guests. As we drew nigh Mr. +Petulengro took off his hat, and made a profound obeisance to Belle, +whilst Mrs. Petulengro rose from the stool, and made a profound curtsey. +Belle, who had flung her hair back over her shoulders, returned their +salutations by bending her head, and after slightly glancing at Mr. +Petulengro, fixed her large blue eyes full upon his wife. Both +these females were very handsome - but how unlike! Belle fair, +with blue eyes and flaxen hair; Mrs. Petulengro with olive complexion, +eyes black, and hair dark - as dark as could be. Belle, in demeanour +calm and proud; the gypsy graceful, but full of movement and agitation. +And then how different were those two in stature! The head of +the Romany rawnie scarcely ascended to the breast of Isopel Berners. +I could see that Mrs. Petulengro gazed on Belle with unmixed admiration; +so did her husband. “Well,” said the latter, “one +thing I will say, which is, that there is only one on earth worthy to +stand up in front of this she, and that is the beauty of the world, +as far as man flesh is concerned, Tawno Chikno; what a pity he did not +come down!”<br> +<br> +“Tawno Chikno,” said Mrs. Petulengro, flaring up; “a +pretty fellow he to stand up in front of this gentlewoman, a pity he +didn’t come, quotha? not at all, the fellow is a sneak, afraid +of his wife. He stand up against this rawnie! why, the look she +has given me would knock the fellow down.”<br> +<br> +“It is easier to knock him down with a look than with a fist,” +said Mr. Petulengro; “that is, if the look comes from a woman: +not that I am disposed to doubt that this female gentlewoman is able +to knock him down either one way or the other. I have heard of +her often enough, and have seen her once or twice, though not so near +as now. Well, ma’am, my wife and I are come to pay our respects +to you; we are both glad to find that you have left off keeping company +with Flaming Bosville, and have taken up with my pal; he is not very +handsome, but a better - ”<br> +<br> +“I take up with your pal, as you call him! you had better mind +what you say,” said Isopel Berners, “I take up with nobody.”<br> +<br> +“I merely mean taking up your quarters with him,” said Mr. +Petulengro; “and I was only about to say a better fellow-lodger +you cannot have, or a more instructive, especially if you have a desire +to be inoculated with tongues, as he calls them. I wonder whether +you and he have had any tongue-work already.”<br> +<br> +“Have you and your wife anything particular to say? if you have +nothing but this kind of conversation I must leave you, as I am going +to make a journey this afternoon, and should be getting ready.”<br> +<br> +“You must excuse my husband, madam,” said Mrs. Petulengro, +“he is not overburdened with understanding, and has said but one +word of sense since he has been here, which was that we came to pay +our respects to you. We have dressed ourselves in our best Roman +way, in order to do honour to you; perhaps you do not like it; if so, +I am sorry. I have no French clothes, madam; if I had any, madam, +I would have come in them, in order to do you more honour.”<br> +<br> +“I like to see you much better as you are,” said Belle; +“people should keep to their own fashions, and yours is very pretty.”<br> +<br> +“I am glad you are pleased to think it so, madam; it has been +admired in the great city; it created what they call a sensation; and +some of the great ladies, the court ladies, imitated it, else I should +not appear in it so often as I am accustomed; for I am not very fond +of what is Roman, having an imagination that what is Roman is ungenteel; +in fact, I once heard the wife of a rich citizen say that gypsies were +vulgar creatures. I should have taken her saying very much to +heart, but for her improper pronunciation; she could not pronounce her +words, madam, which we gypsies, as they call us, usually can, so I thought +she was no very high purchase. You are very beautiful, madam, +though you are not dressed as I could wish to see you, and your hair +is hanging down in sad confusion; allow me to assist you in arranging +your hair, madam; I will dress it for you in our fashion; I would fain +see how your hair would look in our poor gypsy fashion; pray allow me, +madam?” and she took Belle by the hand.<br> +<br> +“I really can do no such thing,” said Belle, withdrawing +her hand; “I thank you for coming to see me, but - ”<br> +<br> +“Do allow me to officiate upon your hair, madam,” said Mrs. +Petulengro. “I should esteem your allowing me a great mark +of condescension. You are very beautiful, madam, and I think you +doubly so, because you are so fair; I have a great esteem for persons +with fair complexions and hair; I have a less regard for people with +dark hair and complexions, madam.”<br> +<br> +“Then why did you turn off the lord, and take up with me?” +said Mr. Petulengro; “that same lord was fair enough all about +him.”<br> +<br> +“People do when they are young and silly what they sometimes repent +of when they are of riper years and understandings. I sometimes +think that had I not been something of a simpleton, I might at this +time be a great court lady. Now, madam,” said she, again +taking Belle by the hand, “do oblige me by allowing me to plait +your hair a little?”<br> +<br> +“I have really a good mind to be angry with you,” said Belle, +giving Mrs. Petulengro a peculiar glance.<br> +<br> +“Do allow her to arrange your hair,” said I; “she +means no harm, and wishes to do you honour; do oblige her and me too, +for I should like to see how your hair would look dressed in her fashion.”<br> +<br> +“You hear what the young rye says?” said Mrs. Petulengro. +“I am sure you will oblige the young rye, if not myself. +Many people would be willing to oblige the young rye, if he would but +ask them; but he is not in the habit of asking favours. He has +a nose of his own, which he keeps tolerably exalted; he does not think +small-beer of himself, madam; and all the time I have been with him, +I never heard him ask a favour before; therefore, madam, I am sure you +will oblige him. My sister Ursula would be very willing to oblige +him in many things, but he will not ask for anything, except for such +a favour as a word, which is a poor favour after all. I don’t +mean for her word; perhaps he will some day ask you for your word. +If so - ”<br> +<br> +“Why, here you are, after railing at me for catching at words, +catching at a word yourself,” said Mr. Petulengro.<br> +<br> +“Hold your tongue, sir,” said Mrs. Petulengro. “Don’t +interrupt me in my discourse; if I caught at a word now, I am not in +the habit of doing so. I am no conceited body; no newspaper Neddy; +no pothouse witty person. I was about to say, madam, that if the +young rye asks you at any time for your word, you will do as you deem +convenient; but I am sure you will oblige him by allowing me to braid +your hair.”<br> +<br> +“I shall not do it to oblige him,” said Belle; “the +young rye, as you call him, is nothing to me.”<br> +<br> +“Well, then, to oblige me,” said Mrs. Petulengro; “do +allow me to become your poor tire-woman.”<br> +<br> +“It is great nonsense,” said Belle, reddening; “however, +as you came to see me, and ask the matter as a particular favour to +yourself - ”<br> +<br> +“Thank you, madam,” said Mrs. Petulengro, leading Belle +to the stool; “please to sit down here. Thank you; your +hair is very beautiful, madam,” she continued, as she proceeded +to braid Belle’s hair; “so is your countenance. Should +you ever go to the great city, among the grand folks, you would make +a sensation, madam. I have made one myself, who am dark; the chi +she is kauley, which last word signifies black, which I am not, though +rather dark. There is no colour like white, madam; it’s +so lasting, so genteel. Gentility will carry the day, madam, even +with the young rye. He will ask words of the black lass, but beg +the word of the fair.”<br> +<br> +In the meantime Mr. Petulengro and myself entered into conversation. +“Any news stirring, Mr. Petulengro?” said I. “Have +you heard anything of the great religious movements?”<br> +<br> +“Plenty,” said Mr. Petulengro; “all the religious +people, more especially the Evangelicals - those that go about distributing +tracts - are very angry about the fight between Gentleman Cooper and +White-headed Bob, which they say ought not to have been permitted to +take place; and then they are trying all they can to prevent the fight +between the lion and the dogs, which they say is a disgrace to a Christian +country. Now I can’t say that I have any quarrel with the +religious party and the Evangelicals; they are always civil to me and +mine, and frequently give us tracts, as they call them, which neither +I nor mine can read; but I cannot say that I approve of any movements, +religious or not, which have in aim to put down all life and manly sport +in this here country.”<br> +<br> +“Anything else?” said I.<br> +<br> +“People are becoming vastly sharp,” said Mr. Petulengro; +“and I am told that all the old-fashioned good-tempered constables +are going to be set aside, and a paid body of men to be established, +who are not to permit a tramper or vagabond on the roads of England; +- and talking of roads, puts me in mind of a strange story I heard two +nights ago, whilst drinking some beer at a public-house in company with +my cousin Sylvester. I had asked Tawno to go, but his wife would +not let him. Just opposite me, smoking their pipes, were a couple +of men, something like engineers, and they were talking of a wonderful +invention which was to make a wonderful alteration in England; inasmuch +as it would set aside all the old roads, which in a little time would +be ploughed up, and sowed with corn, and cause all England to be laid +down with iron roads, on which people would go thundering along in vehicles, +pushed forward by fire and smoke. Now, brother, when I heard this, +I did not feel very comfortable; for I thought to myself, what a queer +place such a road would be to pitch one’s tent upon, and how impossible +it would be for one’s cattle to find a bite of grass upon it; +and I thought likewise of the danger to which one’s family would +be exposed in being run over and severely scorched by these same flying +fiery vehicles; so I made bold to say, that I hoped such an invention +would never be countenanced, because it was likely to do a great deal +of harm. Whereupon, one of the men, giving me a glance, said, +without taking the pipe out of his mouth, that for his part, he sincerely +hoped that it would take effect; and if it did no other good than stopping +the rambles of gypsies, and other like scamps, it ought to be encouraged. +Well, brother, feeling myself insulted, I put my hand into my pocket, +in order to pull out money, intending to challenge him to fight for +a five-shilling stake, but merely found sixpence, having left all my +other money at the tent; which sixpence was just sufficient to pay for +the beer which Sylvester and myself were drinking, of whom I couldn’t +hope to borrow anything - ‘poor as Sylvester’ being a by-word +amongst us. So, not being able to back myself, I held my peace, +and let the Gorgio have it all his own way, who, after turning up his +nose at me, went on discoursing about the said invention, saying what +a fund of profit it would be to those who knew how to make use of it, +and should have the laying down of the new roads, and the shoeing of +England with iron. And after he had said this, and much more of +the same kind, which I cannot remember, he and his companion got up +and walked away; and presently I and Sylvester got up and walked to +our camp; and there I lay down in my tent by the side of my wife, where +I had an ugly dream of having camped upon an iron road; my tent being +overturned by a flying vehicle; my wife’s leg injured; and all +my affairs put into great confusion.”<br> +<br> +“Now, madam,” said Mrs. Petulengro, “I have braided +your hair in our fashion: you look very beautiful, madam; more beautiful, +if possible, than before.” Belle now rose, and came forward +with her tire-woman. Mr. Petulengro was loud in his applause, +but I said nothing, for I did not think Belle was improved in appearance +by having submitted to the ministry of Mrs. Petulengro’s hand. +Nature never intended Belle to appear as a gypsy; she had made her too +proud and serious. A more proper part for her was that of a heroine, +a queenly heroine, - that of Theresa of Hungary, for example; or, better +still, that of Brynhilda the Valkyrie, the beloved of Sigurd, the serpent-killer, +who incurred the curse of Odin, because, in the tumult of spears, she +sided with the young king, and doomed the old warrior to die, to whom +Odin had promised victory.<br> +<br> +Belle looked at me for a moment in silence; then turning to Mrs. Petulengro, +she said, “You have had your will with me; are you satisfied?” +“Quite so, madam,” said Mrs. Petulengro, “and I hope +you will be so too, as soon as you have looked in the glass.” +“I have looked in one already,” said Belle; “and the +glass does not flatter.” “You mean the face of the +young rye,” said Mrs. Petulengro; “never mind him, madam; +the young rye, though he knows a thing or two, is not a university, +nor a person of universal wisdom. I assure you, that you never +looked so well before; and I hope that, from this moment, you will wear +your hair in this way.” “And who is to braid it in +this way?” said Belle, smiling. “I, madam,” +said Mrs. Petulengro; “I will braid it for you every morning, +if you will but be persuaded to join us. Do so, madam, and I think, +if you did, the young rye would do so too.” “The young +rye is nothing to me, nor I to him,” said Belle; “we have +stayed some time together; but our paths will soon be apart. Now, +farewell, for I am about to take a journey.” “And +you will go out with your hair as I have braided it,” said Mrs. +Petulengro; “if you do, everybody will be in love with you.” +“No,” said Belle; “hitherto I have allowed you to +do what you please, but henceforth I shall have my own way. Come, +come,” said she, observing that the gypsy was about to speak, +“we have had enough of nonsense; whenever I leave this hollow, +it will be wearing my hair in my own fashion.” “Come, +wife,” said Mr. Petulengro; “we will no longer intrude upon +the rye and rawnie; there is such a thing as being troublesome.” +Thereupon Mr. Petulengro and his wife took their leave, with many salutations. +“Then you are going?” said I, when Belle and I were left +alone. “Yes,” said Belle; “I am going on a journey; +my affairs compel me.” “But you will return again?” +said I. “Yes,” said Belle, “I shall return once +more.” “Once more,” said I; “what do you +mean by once more? The Petulengros will soon be gone, and will +you abandon me in this place?” “You were alone here,” +said Belle, “before I came, and I suppose, found it agreeable, +or you would not have stayed in it.” “Yes,” +said I, “that was before I knew you; but having lived with you +here, I should be very loth to live here without you.” “Indeed,” +said Belle; “I did not know that I was of so much consequence +to you. Well, the day is wearing away - I must go and harness +Traveller to the cart.” “I will do that,” said +I, “or anything else you may wish me. Go and prepare yourself; +I will see after Traveller and the cart.” Belle departed +to her tent, and I set about performing the task I had undertaken. +In about half-an-hour Belle again made her appearance - she was dressed +neatly and plainly. Her hair was no longer in the Roman fashion, +in which Pakomovna had plaited it, but was secured by a comb; she held +a bonnet in her hand. “Is there anything else I can do for +you?” I demanded. “There are two or three bundles +by my tent, which you can put into the cart,” said Belle. +I put the bundles into the cart, and then led Traveller and the cart +up the winding path to the mouth of the dingle, near which was Mr. Petulengro’s +encampment. Belle followed. At the top, I delivered the +reins into her hands; we looked at each other stedfastly for some time. +Belle then departed, and I returned to the dingle, where, seating myself +on my stone, I remained for upwards of an hour in thought.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER VII<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The Festival - The Gypsy Song - Piramus of Rome - The Scotchman - Gypsy +Names.<br> +<br> +<br> +On the following day there was much feasting amongst the Romany chals +of Mr. Petulengro’s party. Throughout the forenoon the Romany +chies did scarcely anything but cook flesh, and the flesh which they +cooked was swine’s flesh. About two o’clock, the chals +dividing themselves into various parties, sat down and partook of the +fare, which was partly roasted, partly sodden. I dined that day +with Mr. Petulengro and his wife and family, Ursula, Mr. and Mrs. Chikno, +and Sylvester and his two children. Sylvester, it will be as well +to say, was a widower, and had consequently no one to cook his victuals +for him, supposing he had any, which was not always the case, Sylvester’s +affairs being seldom in a prosperous state. He was noted for his +bad success in trafficking, notwithstanding the many hints which he +received from Jasper, under whose protection he had placed himself, +even as Tawno Chikno had done, who himself, as the reader has heard +on a former occasion, was anything but a wealthy subject, though he +was at all times better off than Sylvester, the Lazarus of the Romany +tribe.<br> +<br> +All our party ate with a good appetite, except myself, who, feeling +rather melancholy that day, had little desire to eat. I did not, +like the others, partake of the pork, but got my dinner entirely off +the body of a squirrel which had been shot the day before by a chal +of the name of Piramus, who, besides being a good shot, was celebrated +for his skill in playing on the fiddle. During the dinner a horn +filled with ale passed frequently around; I drank of it more than once, +and felt inspirited by the draughts. The repast concluded, Sylvester +and his children departed to their tent, and Mr. Petulengro, Tawno, +and myself, getting up, went and lay down under a shady hedge, where +Mr. Petulengro, lighting his pipe, began to smoke, and where Tawno presently +fell asleep. I was about to fall asleep also, when I heard the +sound of music and song. Piramus was playing on the fiddle, whilst +Mrs. Chikno, who had a voice of her own, was singing in tones sharp +enough, but of great power, a gypsy song:-<br> +<br> +<br> +POISONING THE PORKER<br> +BY MRS. CHIKNO<br> +<br> +<br> +To mande shoon ye Romany chals<br> +Who besh in the pus about the yag,<br> +I’ll pen how we drab the baulo,<br> +I’ll pen how we drab the baulo.<br> +<br> +We jaws to the drab-engro ker,<br> +Trin horsworth there of drab we lels,<br> +And when to the swety back we wels<br> +We pens we’ll drab the baulo,<br> +We’ll have a drab at a baulo.<br> +<br> +And then we kairs the drab opré,<br> +And then we jaws to the farming ker,<br> +To mang a beti habben,<br> +A beti poggado habben.<br> +<br> +A rinkeno baulo there we dick,<br> +And then we pens in Romano jib;<br> +Wust lis odoi opré ye chick,<br> +And the baulo he will lel lis,<br> +The baulo he will lel lis.<br> +<br> +Coliko, coliko saulo we<br> +Apopli to the farming ker<br> +Will wel and mang him mullo,<br> +Will wel and mang his truppo.<br> +<br> +And so we kairs, and so we kairs;<br> +The baulo in the rarde mers;<br> +We mang him on the saulo,<br> +And rig to the tan the baulo.<br> +<br> +And then we toves the wendror well<br> +Till sore the wendror iuziou se,<br> +Till kekkeno drab’s adrey lis,<br> +Till drab there’s kek adrey lis.<br> +<br> +And then his truppo well we hatch,<br> +Kin levinor at the kitchema,<br> +And have a kosko habben,<br> +A kosko Romano habben.<br> +<br> +The boshom engro kils, he kils,<br> +The tawnie juva gils, she gils<br> +A puro Romano gillie,<br> +Now shoon the Romano gillie.<br> +<br> +<br> +Which song I had translated in the following manner, in my younger days, +for a lady’s album:<br> +<br> +<br> +Listen to me ye Romanlads, who are seated in the straw about the fire, +and I will tell how we poison the porker, I will tell how we poison +the porker.<br> +<br> +We go to the house of the poison-monger, where we buy three pennies’ +worth of bane, and when we return to our people we say, we will poison +the porker; we will try and poison the porker.<br> +<br> +We then make up the poison, and then we take our way to the house of +the farmer, as if to beg a bit of victuals, a little broken victuals.<br> +<br> +We see a jolly porker, and then we say in Roman language, “Fling +the bane yonder amongst the dirt, and the porker soon will find it, +the porker soon will find it.”<br> +<br> +Early on the morrow, we will return to the farm-house, and beg the dead +porker, the body of the dead porker.<br> +<br> +And so we do, even so we do; the porker dieth during the night; on the +morrow we beg the porker, and carry to the tent the porker.<br> +<br> +And then we wash the inside well, till all the inside is perfectly clean, +till there’s no bane within it, not a poison grain within it.<br> +<br> +And then we roast the body well, send for ale to the alehouse, and have +a merry banquet, a merry Roman banquet.<br> +<br> +The fellow with the fiddle plays, he plays; the little lassie sings, +she sings an ancient Roman ditty; now hear the Roman ditty.<br> +<br> +<br> +SONG OF THE BROKEN CHASTITY<br> +BY URSULA<br> +<br> +<br> +Penn’d the Romany chi ké laki dye<br> +“Miry dearie dye mi shom cambri!”<br> +“And coin kerdo tute cambri,<br> +Miry dearie chi, miry Romany chi?”<br> +“O miry dye a boro rye,<br> +A bovalo rye, a gorgiko rye,<br> +Sos kistur pré a pellengo grye,<br> +‘Twas yov sos kerdo man cambri.”<br> +“Tu tawnie vassavie lubbeny,<br> +Tu chal from miry tan abri;<br> +Had a Romany cwal kair’d tute cambri,<br> +Then I had penn’d ke tute chie,<br> +But tu shan a vassavie lubbeny<br> +With gorgikie rat to be cambri.”<br> +<br> +<br> +“There’s some kernel in those songs, brother,” said +Mr. Petulengro, when the songs and music were over.<br> +<br> +“Yes,” said I; “they are certainly very remarkable +songs. I say, Jasper, I hope you have not been drabbing baulor +lately.”<br> +<br> +“And suppose we have, brother, what then?”<br> +<br> +“Why, it is a very dangerous practice, to say nothing of the wickedness +of it.”<br> +<br> +“Necessity has no law, brother.”<br> +<br> +“That is true,” said I; “I have always said so, but +you are not necessitous, and should not drab baulor.”<br> +<br> +“And who told you we had been drabbing baulor?”<br> +<br> +“Why, you have had a banquet of pork, and after the banquet, Mrs. +Chikno sang a song about drabbing baulor, so I naturally thought you +might have lately been engaged in such a thing.”<br> +<br> +“Brother, you occasionally utter a word or two of common sense. +It was natural for you to suppose, after seeing that dinner of pork, +and hearing that song, that we had been drabbing baulor; I will now +tell you that we have not been doing so. What have you to say +to that?”<br> +<br> +“That I am very glad of it.”<br> +<br> +“Had you tasted that pork, brother, you would have found that +it was sweet and tasty, which balluva that is drabbed can hardly be +expected to be. We have no reason to drab baulor at present, we +have money and credit; but necessity has no law. Our forefathers +occasionally drabbed baulor; some of our people may still do such a +thing, but only from compulsion.”<br> +<br> +“I see,” said I; “and at your merry meetings you sing +songs upon the compulsatory deeds of your people, alias, their villainous +actions; and, after all, what would the stirring poetry of any nation +be, but for its compulsatory deeds? Look at the poetry of Scotland, +the heroic part, founded almost entirely on the villainous deeds of +the Scotch nation; cow-stealing, for example, which is very little better +than drabbing baulor; whilst the softer part is mostly about the slips +of its females among the broom, so that no upholder of Scotch poetry +could censure Ursula’s song as indelicate, even if he understood +it. What do you think, Jasper?”<br> +<br> +“I think, brother, as I before said, that occasionally you utter +a word of common sense; you were talking of the Scotch, brother; what +do you think of a Scotchman finding fault with Romany!”<br> +<br> +“A Scotchman finding fault with Romany, Jasper! Oh dear, +but you joke, the thing could never be.”<br> +<br> +“Yes, and at Piramus’s fiddle; what do you think of a Scotchman +turning up his nose at Piramus’s fiddle?”<br> +<br> +“A Scotchman turning up his nose at Piramus’s fiddle! nonsense, +Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“Do you know what I most dislike, brother?”<br> +<br> +“I do not, unless it be the constable, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“It is not the constable; it’s a beggar on horseback, brother.”<br> +<br> +“What do you mean by a beggar on horseback?”<br> +<br> +“Why, a scamp, brother, raised above his proper place, who takes +every opportunity of giving himself fine airs. About a week ago, +my people and myself camped on a green by a plantation in the neighbourhood +of a great house. In the evening we were making merry, the girls +were dancing, while Piramus was playing on the fiddle a tune of his +own composing, to which he has given his own name, Piramus of Rome, +and which is much celebrated amongst our people, and from which I have +been told that one of the grand gorgio composers, who once heard it, +has taken several hints. So, as we were making merry, a great +many grand people, lords and ladies, I believe, came from the great +house, and looked on, as the girls danced to the tune of Piramus of +Rome, and seemed much pleased; and when the girls had left off dancing, +and Piramus playing, the ladies wanted to have their fortunes told; +so I bade Mikailia Chikno, who can tell a fortune when she pleases better +than any one else, tell them a fortune, and she, being in a good mind, +told them a fortune which pleased them very much. So, after they +had heard their fortunes, one of them asked if any of our women could +sing; and I told them several could, more particularly Leviathan - you +know Leviathan, she is not here now, but some miles distant, she is +our best singer, Ursula coming next. So the lady said she should +like to hear Leviathan sing, whereupon Leviathan sang the Gudlo pesham, +and Piramus played the tune of the same name, which as you know, means +the honeycomb, the song and the tune being well entitled to the name, +being wonderfully sweet. Well, everybody present seemed mighty +well pleased with the song and music, with the exception of one person, +a carroty-haired Scotch body; how he came there I don’t know, +but there he was; and, coming forward, he began in Scotch as broad as +a barn-door to find fault with the music and the song, saying, that +he had never heard viler stuff than either. Well, brother, out +of consideration for the civil gentry with whom the fellow had come, +I held my peace for a long time, and in order to get the subject changed, +I said to Mikailia in Romany, You have told the ladies their fortunes, +now tell the gentlemen theirs, quick, quick, - pen lende dukkerin. +Well, brother, the Scotchman, I suppose, thinking I was speaking ill +of him, fell into a greater passion than before, and catching hold of +the word dukkerin - ‘Dukkerin,’ said he, ‘what’s +dukkerin?’ ‘Dukkerin,’ said I, ‘is fortune, +a man or woman’s destiny; don’t you like the word?’ +‘Word! d’ye ca’ that a word? a bonnie word,’ +said he. ‘Perhaps, you’ll tell us what it is in Scotch,’ +said I, ‘in order that we may improve our language by a Scotch +word; a pal of mine has told me that we have taken a great many words +from foreign lingos.’ ‘Why, then, if that be the case, +fellow, I will tell you; it is e’en “spaeing,”’ +said he, very seriously. ‘Well, then,’ said I, ‘I’ll +keep my own word, which is much the prettiest - spaeing! spaeing! why, +I should be ashamed to make use of the word, it sounds so much like +a certain other word;’ and then I made a face as if I were unwell. +‘Perhaps it’s Scotch also for that?’ ‘What +do ye mean by speaking in that guise to a gentleman?’ said he; +‘you insolent vagabond, without a name or a country.’ +‘There you are mistaken,’ said I; ‘my country is Egypt, +but we ‘Gyptians, like you Scotch, are rather fond of travelling; +and as for name - my name is Jasper Petulengro, perhaps you have a better; +what is it?’ ‘Sandy Macraw.’ At that, +brother, the gentlemen burst into a roar of laughter, and all the ladies +tittered.”<br> +<br> +“You were rather severe on the Scotchman, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“Not at all, brother, and suppose I were, he began first; I am +the civilest man in the world, and never interfere with anybody, who +lets me and mine alone. He finds fault with Romany, forsooth! +why, L-d A’mighty, what’s Scotch? He doesn’t +like our songs; what are his own? I understand them as little +as he mine; I have heard one or two of them, and pretty rubbish they +seemed. But the best of the joke is, the fellow’s finding +fault with Piramus’s fiddle - a chap from the land of bagpipes +finding fault with Piramus’s fiddle! Why, I’ll back +that fiddle against all the bagpipes in Scotland, and Piramus against +all the bagpipers; for though Piramus weighs but ten stone, he shall +flog a Scotchman of twenty.”<br> +<br> +“Scotchmen are never so fat as that,” said I, “unless +indeed, they have been a long time pensioners of England. I say, +Jasper, what remarkable names your people have!”<br> +<br> +“And what pretty names, brother; there’s my own, for example, +Jasper; then there’s Ambrose and Sylvester; then there’s +Culvato, which signifies Claude; then there’s Piramus - that’s +a nice name, brother.”<br> +<br> +“Then there’s your wife’s name, Pakomovna; then there’s +Ursula and Morella.”<br> +<br> +“Then, brother, there’s Ercilla.”<br> +<br> +“Ercilla! the name of the great poet of Spain, how wonderful; +then Leviathan.”<br> +<br> +“The name of a ship, brother; Leviathan was named after a ship, +so don’t make a wonder out of her. But there’s Sanpriel +and Synfye.”<br> +<br> +“Ay, and Clementina and Lavinia, Camillia and Lydia, Curlanda +and Orlanda; wherever did they get those names?”<br> +<br> +“Where did my wife get her necklace, brother?”<br> +<br> +“She knows best, Jasper. I hope - ”<br> +<br> +“Come, no hoping! She got it from her grandmother, who died +at the age of a hundred and three, and sleeps in Coggeshall churchyard. +She got it from her mother, who also died very old, and who could give +no other account of it than that it had been in the family time out +of mind.”<br> +<br> +“Whence could they have got it?”<br> +<br> +“Why, perhaps where they got their names, brother. A gentleman, +who had travelled much, once told me that he had seen the sister of +it about the neck of an Indian queen.”<br> +<br> +“Some of your names, Jasper, appear to be church names; your own, +for example, and Ambrose, and Sylvester; perhaps you got them from the +Papists, in the times of Popery; but where did you get such a name as +Piramus, a name of Grecian romance? Then some of them appear to +be Slavonian; for example, Mikailia and Pakomovna. I don’t +know much of Slavonian; but - ”<br> +<br> +“What is Slavonian, brother?”<br> +<br> +“The family name of certain nations, the principal of which is +the Russian, and from which the word slave is originally derived. +You have heard of the Russians, Jasper?”<br> +<br> +“Yes, brother; and seen some. I saw their crallis at the +time of the peace; he was not a bad-looking man for a Russian.”<br> +<br> +“By the bye, Jasper, I’m half inclined to think that crallis +is a Slavish word. I saw something like it in a lil called ‘Voltaire’s +Life of Charles.’ How you should have come by such names +and words is to me incomprehensible.”<br> +<br> +“You seem posed, brother.”<br> +<br> +“I really know very little about you, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“Very little indeed, brother. We know very little about +ourselves; and you know nothing, save what we have told you; and we +have now and then told you things about us which are not exactly true, +simply to make a fool of you, brother. You will say that was wrong; +perhaps it was. Well, Sunday will be here in a day or two, when +we will go to church, where possibly we shall hear a sermon on the disastrous +consequences of lying.”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER VIII<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The Church - The Aristocratical Pew - Days of Yore - The Clergyman - +“In What Would a Man be Profited?”<br> +<br> +<br> +When two days had passed, Sunday came; I breakfasted by myself in the +solitary dingle; and then, having set things a little to rights, I ascended +to Mr. Petulengro’s encampment. I could hear church-bells +ringing around in the distance, appearing to say, “Come to church, +come to church,” as clearly as it was possible for church-bells +to say. I found Mr. Petulengro seated by the door of his tent, +smoking his pipe, in rather an ungenteel undress. “Well, +Jasper,” said I, “are you ready to go to church? for if +you are, I am ready to accompany you.” “I am not ready, +brother,” said Mr. Petulengro, “nor is my wife; the church, +too, to which we shall go is three miles off; so it is of no use to +think of going there this morning, as the service would be three-quarters +over before we got there; if, however, you are disposed to go in the +afternoon, we are your people.” Thereupon I returned to +my dingle, where I passed several hours in conning the Welsh Bible, +which the preacher, Peter Williams, had given me.<br> +<br> +At last I gave over reading, took a slight refreshment, and was about +to emerge from the dingle, when I heard the voice of Mr. Petulengro +calling me. I went up again to the encampment, where I found Mr. +Petulengro, his wife, and Tawno Chikno, ready to proceed to church. +Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro were dressed in Roman fashion, though not in +the full-blown manner in which they had paid their visit to Isopel and +myself. Tawno had on a clean white slop, with a nearly new black +beaver, with very broad rims, and the nap exceedingly long. As +for myself, I was dressed in much the same manner as that in which I +departed from London, having on, in honour of the day, a shirt perfectly +clean, having washed one on purpose for the occasion, with my own hands, +the day before, in the pond of tepid water in which the newts and defts +were in the habit of taking their pleasure. We proceeded for upwards +of a mile, by footpaths through meadows and corn-fields; we crossed +various stiles; at last, passing over one, we found ourselves in a road, +wending along which for a considerable distance, we at last came in +sight of a church, the bells of which had been tolling distinctly in +our ears for some time; before, however, we reached the church-yard, +the bells had ceased their melody. It was surrounded by lofty +beech-trees of brilliant green foliage. We entered the gate, Mrs. +Petulengro leading the way, and proceeded to a small door near the east +end of the church. As we advanced, the sound of singing within +the church rose upon our ears. Arrived at the small door, Mrs. +Petulengro opened it and entered, followed by Tawno Chikno. I +myself went last of all, following Mr. Petulengro, who, before I entered, +turned round, and, with a significant nod, advised me to take care how +I behaved. The part of the church which we had entered was the +chancel; on one side stood a number of venerable old men - probably +the neighbouring poor - and on the other a number of poor girls belonging +to the village school, dressed in white gowns and straw bonnets, whom +two elegant but simply dressed young women were superintending. +Every voice seemed to be united in singing a certain anthem, which, +notwithstanding it was written neither by Tate nor Brady, contains some +of the sublimest words which were ever put together, not the worst of +which are those which burst on our ears as we entered:<br> +<br> +<br> +“Every eye shall now behold Him,<br> +Robed in dreadful majesty;<br> +Those who set at nought and sold Him,<br> +Pierced and nailed Him to the tree,<br> +Deeply wailing,<br> +Shall the true Messiah see.”<br> +<br> +<br> +Still following Mrs. Petulengro, we proceeded down the chancel and along +the aisle; notwithstanding the singing, I could distinctly hear as we +passed many a voice whispering, “Here come the gypsies! here come +the gypsies!” I felt rather embarrassed, with a somewhat +awkward doubt as to where we were to sit; none of the occupiers of the +pews, who appeared to consist almost entirely of farmers, with their +wives, sons, and daughters, opened a door to admit us. Mrs. Petulengro, +however, appeared to feel not the least embarrassment, but tripped along +the aisle with the greatest nonchalance. We passed under the pulpit, +in which stood the clergyman in his white surplice, and reached the +middle of the church, where we were confronted by the sexton dressed +in long blue coat, and holding in his hand a wand. This functionary +motioned towards the lower end of the church, where were certain benches, +partly occupied by poor people and boys. Mrs. Petulengro, however, +with a toss of her head, directed her course to a magnificent pew, which +was unoccupied, which she opened and entered, followed closely by Tawno +Chikno, Mr. Petulengro, and myself. The sexton did not appear +by any means to approve of the arrangement, and as I stood next the +door, laid his finger on my arm, as if to intimate that myself and companions +must quit our aristocratical location. I said nothing, but directed +my eyes to the clergyman, who uttered a short and expressive cough; +the sexton looked at him for a moment, and then, bowing his head, closed +the door - in a moment more the music ceased. I took up a prayer-book, +on which was engraved an earl’s coronet. The clergyman uttered, +“I will arise, and go to my father.” England’s +sublime liturgy had commenced.<br> +<br> +Oh, what feelings came over me on finding myself again in an edifice +devoted to the religion of my country! I had not been in such +a place I cannot tell for how long - certainly not for years; and now +I had found my way there again, it appeared as if I had fallen asleep +in the pew of the old church of pretty D---. I had occasionally +done so when a child, and had suddenly woke up. Yes, surely I +had been asleep and had woke up; but no! alas, no! I had not been +asleep - at least not in the old church - if I had been asleep I had +been walking in my sleep, struggling, striving, learning, and unlearning +in my sleep. Years had rolled away whilst I had been asleep - +ripe fruit had fallen, green fruit had come on whilst I had been asleep +- how circumstances had altered, and above all myself, whilst I had +been asleep. No, I had not been asleep in the old church! +I was in a pew, it is true, but not the pew of black leather, in which +I sometimes fell asleep in days of yore, but in a strange pew; and then +my companions, they were no longer those of days of yore. I was +no longer with my respectable father and mother, and my dear brother, +but with the gypsy cral and his wife, and the gigantic Tawno, the Antinous +of the dusky people. And what was I myself? No longer an +innocent child, but a moody man, bearing in my face, as I knew well, +the marks of my strivings and strugglings, of what I had learnt and +unlearnt; nevertheless, the general aspect of things brought to my mind +what I had felt and seen of yore. There was difference enough, +it is true, but still there was a similarity - at least I thought so +- the church, the clergyman, and the clerk, differing in many respects +from those of pretty D---, put me strangely in mind of them; and then +the words! - by the bye, was it not the magic of the words which brought +the dear enchanting past so powerfully before the mind of Lavengro? +for the words were the same sonorous words of high import which had +first made an impression on his childish ear in the old church of pretty +D---.<br> +<br> +The liturgy was now over, during the reading of which my companions +behaved in a most unexceptionable manner, sitting down and rising up +when other people sat down and rose, and holding in their hands prayer-books +which they found in the pew, into which they stared intently, though +I observed that, with the exception of Mrs. Petulengro, who knew how +to read a little, they held the books by the top, and not the bottom, +as is the usual way. The clergyman now ascended the pulpit, arrayed +in his black gown. The congregation composed themselves to attention, +as did also my companions, who fixed their eyes upon the clergyman with +a certain strange immovable stare, which I believe to be peculiar to +their race. The clergyman gave out his text, and began to preach. +He was a tall, gentlemanly man, seemingly between fifty and sixty, with +greyish hair; his features were very handsome, but with a somewhat melancholy +cast: the tones of his voice were rich and noble, but also with somewhat +of melancholy in them. The text which he gave out was the following +one, “In what would a man be profited, provided he gained the +whole world, and lost his own soul?”<br> +<br> +And on this text the clergyman preached long and well: he did not read +his sermon, but spoke it extempore; his doing so rather surprised and +offended me at first; I was not used to such a style of preaching in +a church devoted to the religion of my country. I compared it +within my mind with the style of preaching used by the high-church rector +in the old church of pretty D---, and I thought to myself it was very +different, and being very different I did not like it, and I thought +to myself how scandalized the people of D--- would have been had they +heard it, and I figured to myself how indignant the high-church clerk +would have been had any clergyman got up in the church of D--- and preached +in such a manner. Did it not savour strongly of dissent, methodism, +and similar low stuff? Surely it did; why, the Methodist I had +heard preach on the heath above the old city, preached in the same manner +- at least he preached extempore; ay, and something like the present +clergyman; for the Methodist spoke very zealously and with great feeling, +and so did the present clergyman; so I, of course, felt rather offended +with the clergyman for speaking with zeal and feeling. However, +long before the sermon was over I forgot the offence which I had taken, +and listened to the sermon with much admiration, for the eloquence and +powerful reasoning with which it abounded.<br> +<br> +Oh, how eloquent he was, when he talked of the inestimable value of +a man’s soul, which he said endured for ever, whilst his body, +as every one knew, lasted at most for a very contemptible period of +time; and how forcibly he reasoned on the folly of a man, who, for the +sake of gaining the whole world - a thing, he said, which provided he +gained he could only possess for a part of the time, during which his +perishable body existed - should lose his soul, that is, cause that +precious deathless portion of him to suffer indescribable misery time +without end.<br> +<br> +There was one part of his sermon which struck me in a very particular +manner: he said, “That there were some people who gained something +in return for their souls; if they did not get the whole world, they +got a part of it - lands, wealth, honour, or renown; mere trifles, he +allowed, in comparison with the value of a man’s soul, which is +destined either to enjoy delight, or suffer tribulation time without +end; but which, in the eyes of the worldly, had a certain value, and +which afforded a certain pleasure and satisfaction. But there +were also others who lost their souls, and got nothing for them - neither +lands, wealth, renown, nor consideration, who were poor outcasts, and +despised by everybody. My friends,” he added, “if +the man is a fool who barters his soul for the whole world, what a fool +he must be who barters his soul for nothing.”<br> +<br> +The eyes of the clergyman, as he uttered these words, wandered around +the whole congregation; and when he had concluded them, the eyes of +the whole congregation were turned upon my companions and myself.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER IX<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Return from Church - The Cuckoo and Gypsy - Spiritual Discourse.<br> +<br> +<br> +The service over, my companions and myself returned towards the encampment, +by the way we came. Some of the humble part of the congregation +laughed and joked at us as we passed. Mr. Petulengro and his wife, +however, returned their laughs and jokes with interest. As for +Tawno and myself, we said nothing: Tawno, like most handsome fellows, +having very little to say for himself at any time; and myself, though +not handsome, not being particularly skilful at repartee. Some +boys followed us for a considerable time, making all kinds of observations +about gypsies; but as we walked at a great pace, we gradually left them +behind, and at last lost sight of them. Mrs. Petulengro and Tawno +Chikno walked together, even as they had come; whilst Mr. Petulengro +and myself followed at a little distance.<br> +<br> +“That was a very fine preacher we heard,” said I to Mr. +Petulengro, after we had crossed the stile into the fields.<br> +<br> +“Very fine indeed, brother,” said Mr. Petulengro; “he +is talked of, far and wide, for his sermons; folks say that there is +scarcely another like him in the whole of England.”<br> +<br> +“He looks rather melancholy, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“He lost his wife several years ago, who, they say, was one of +the most beautiful women ever seen. They say that it was grief +for her loss that made him come out mighty strong as a preacher; for, +though he was a clergyman, he was never heard of in the pulpit before +he lost his wife; since then, the whole country has rung with the preaching +of the clergyman of M--- as they call him. Those two nice young +gentlewomen, whom you saw with the female childer, are his daughters.”<br> +<br> +“You seem to know all about him, Jasper. Did you ever hear +him preach before?”<br> +<br> +“Never, brother; but he has frequently been to our tent, and his +daughters too, and given us tracts; for he is one of the people they +call Evangelicals, who give folks tracts which they cannot read.”<br> +<br> +“You should learn to read, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“We have no time, brother.”<br> +<br> +“Are you not frequently idle?”<br> +<br> +“Never, brother; when we are not engaged in our traffic, we are +engaged in taking our relaxation: so we have no time to learn.”<br> +<br> +“You really should make an effort. If you were disposed +to learn to read, I would endeavour to assist you. You would be +all the better for knowing how to read.”<br> +<br> +“In what way, brother?”<br> +<br> +“Why, you could read the Scriptures, and, by so doing, learn your +duty towards your fellow-creatures.”<br> +<br> +“We know that already, brother; the constables and justices have +contrived to knock that tolerably into our heads.”<br> +<br> +“Yet you frequently break the laws.”<br> +<br> +“So, I believe, do now and then those who know how to read, brother.”<br> +<br> +“Very true, Jasper; but you really ought to learn to read, as, +by so doing, you might learn your duty towards yourselves: and your +chief duty is to take care of your own souls; did not the preacher say, +‘In what is a man profited, provided he gain the whole world?’”<br> +<br> +“We have not much of the world, brother.”<br> +<br> +“Very little indeed, Jasper. Did you not observe how the +eyes of the whole congregation were turned towards our pew, when the +preacher said, ‘There are some people who lose their souls, and +get nothing in exchange; who are outcast, despised, and miserable?’ +Now was not what he said quite applicable to the gypsies?”<br> +<br> +“We are not miserable, brother.”<br> +<br> +“Well, then, you ought to be, Jasper. Have you an inch of +ground of your own? Are you of the least use? Are you not +spoken ill of by everybody? What’s a gypsy?”<br> +<br> +“What’s the bird noising yonder, brother?”<br> +<br> +“The bird! oh, that’s the cuckoo tolling; but what has the +cuckoo to do with the matter?”<br> +<br> +“We’ll see, brother; what’s the cuckoo?”<br> +<br> +“What is it? you know as much about it as myself, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“Isn’t it a kind of roguish, chaffing bird, brother?”<br> +<br> +“I believe it is, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“Nobody knows whence it comes, brother?”<br> +<br> +“I believe not, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“Very poor, brother, not a nest of its own?”<br> +<br> +“So they say, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“With every person’s bad word, brother?”<br> +<br> +“Yes, Jasper, every person is mocking it.”<br> +<br> +“Tolerably merry, brother?”<br> +<br> +“Yes, tolerably merry, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“Of no use at all, brother?”<br> +<br> +“None whatever, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“You would be glad to get rid of the cuckoos, brother?”<br> +<br> +“Why, not exactly, Jasper; the cuckoo is a pleasant, funny bird, +and its presence and voice give a great charm to the green trees and +fields; no, I can’t say I wish exactly to get rid of the cuckoo.”<br> +<br> +“Well, brother, what’s a Romany chal?”<br> +<br> +“You must answer that question yourself, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“A roguish, chaffing fellow, a’n’t he, brother?”<br> +<br> +“Ay, ay, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“Of no use at all, brother?”<br> +<br> +“Just so, Jasper; I see - ”<br> +<br> +“Something very much like a cuckoo, brother?”<br> +<br> +“I see what you are after, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“You would like to get rid of us, wouldn’t you?”<br> +<br> +“Why no, not exactly.”<br> +<br> +“We are no ornament to the green lanes in spring and summer time, +are we, brother? and the voices of our chies, with their cukkerin and +dukkerin, don’t help to make them pleasant?”<br> +<br> +“I see what you are at, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“You would wish to turn the cuckoos into barn-door fowls, wouldn’t +you?”<br> +<br> +“Can’t say I should, Jasper, whatever some people might +wish.”<br> +<br> +“And the chals and chies into radical weavers and factory wenches, +hey, brother?”<br> +<br> +“Can’t say that I should, Jasper. You are certainly +a picturesque people, and in many respects an ornament both to town +and country; painting and lil writing too are under great obligations +to you. What pretty pictures are made out of your campings and +groupings, and what pretty books have been written in which gypsies, +or at least creatures intended to represent gypsies, have been the principal +figures. I think if we were without you, we should begin to miss +you.”<br> +<br> +“Just as you would the cuckoos, if they were all converted into +barn-door fowls. I tell you what, brother; frequently, as I have +sat under a hedge in spring or summer time, and heard the cuckoo, I +have thought that we chals and cuckoos are alike in many respects, but +especially in character. Everybody speaks ill of us both, and +everybody is glad to see both of us again.”<br> +<br> +“Yes, Jasper, but there is some difference between men and cuckoos; +men have souls, Jasper!”<br> +<br> +“And why not cuckoos, brother?”<br> +<br> +“You should not talk so, Jasper; what you say is little short +of blasphemy. How should a bird have a soul?”<br> +<br> +“And how should a man?”<br> +<br> +“Oh, we know very well that a man has a soul.”<br> +<br> +“How do you know it?”<br> +<br> +“We know very well.”<br> +<br> +“Would you take your oath of it, brother - your bodily oath?”<br> +<br> +“Why, I think I might, Jasper!”<br> +<br> +“Did you ever see the soul, brother?”<br> +<br> +“No, I never saw it.”<br> +<br> +“Then how could you swear to it? A pretty figure you would +make in a court of justice, to swear to a thing which you never saw. +Hold up your head, fellow. When and where did you see it? +Now upon your oath, fellow, do you mean to say that this Roman stole +the donkey’s foal? Oh, there’s no one for cross-questioning +like Counsellor P---. Our people when they are in a hobble always +like to employ him, though he is somewhat dear. Now, brother, +how can you get over the ‘upon your oath, fellow, will you say +that you have a soul?’”<br> +<br> +“Well, we will take no oaths on the subject; but you yourself +believe in the soul. I have heard you say that you believe in +dukkerin; now what is dukkerin but the soul science?”<br> +<br> +“When did I say that I believed in it?”<br> +<br> +“Why, after that fight, when you pointed to the bloody mark in +the cloud, whilst he you wot of was galloping in the barouche to the +old town, amidst the rain-cataracts, the thunder, and flame of heaven.”<br> +<br> +“I have some kind of remembrance of it, brother.”<br> +<br> +“Then, again, I heard you say that the dook of Abershaw rode every +night on horseback down the wooded hill.”<br> +<br> +“I say, brother, what a wonderful memory you have!”<br> +<br> +“I wish I had not, Jasper; but I can’t help it, it is my +misfortune.”<br> +<br> +“Misfortune! well, perhaps it is; at any rate it is very ungenteel +to have such a memory. I have heard my wife say that to show you +have a long memory looks very vulgar; and that you can’t give +a greater proof of gentility than by forgetting a thing as soon as possible +- more especially a promise, or an acquaintance when he happens to be +shabby. Well, brother, I don’t deny that I may have said +that I believe in dukkerin, and in Abershaw’s dook, which you +say is his soul; but what I believe one moment, or say I believe, don’t +be certain that I shall believe the next, or say I do.”<br> +<br> +“Indeed, Jasper, I heard you say on a previous occasion, on quoting +a piece of a song, that when a man dies he is cast into the earth, and +there’s an end of him.”<br> +<br> +“I did, did I? Lor’ what a memory you have, brother. +But you are not sure that I hold that opinion now.”<br> +<br> +“Certainly not, Jasper. Indeed, after such a sermon as we +have been hearing, I should be very shocked if you held such an opinion.”<br> +<br> +“However, brother, don’t be sure I do not, however shocking +such an opinion may be to you.”<br> +<br> +“What an incomprehensible people you are, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“We are rather so, brother; indeed, we have posed wiser heads +than yours before now.”<br> +<br> +“You seem to care for so little, and yet you rove about a distinct +race.”<br> +<br> +“I say, brother!”<br> +<br> +“Yes, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“What do you think of our women?”<br> +<br> +“They have certainly very singular names, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“Names! Lavengro! However, brother, if you had been +as fond of things as of names, you would never have been a pal of ours.”<br> +<br> +“What do you mean, Jasper?”<br> +<br> +“A’n’t they rum animals?”<br> +<br> +“They have tongues of their own, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“Did you ever feel their teeth and nails, brother?”<br> +<br> +“Never, Jasper, save Mrs. Herne’s. I have always been +very civil to them, so - ”<br> +<br> +“They let you alone. I say, brother, some part of the secret +is in them.”<br> +<br> +“They seem rather flighty, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“Ay, ay, brother!”<br> +<br> +“Rather fond of loose discourse!”<br> +<br> +“Rather so, brother.”<br> +<br> +“Can you always trust them, Jasper?”<br> +<br> +“We never watch them, brother.”<br> +<br> +“Can they always trust you?”<br> +<br> +“Not quite so well as we can them. However, we get on very +well together, except Mikailia and her husband; but Mikailia is a cripple, +and is married to the beauty of the world, so she may be expected to +be jealous - though he would not part with her for a duchess, no more +than I would part with my rawnie, nor any other chal with his.”<br> +<br> +“Ay, but would not the chi part with the chal for a duke, Jasper?”<br> +<br> +“My Pakomovna gave up the duke for me, brother.”<br> +<br> +“But she occasionally talks of him, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“Yes, brother, but Pakomovna was born on a common not far from +the sign of the gammon.”<br> +<br> +“Gammon of bacon, I suppose.”<br> +<br> +“Yes, brother; but gammon likewise means - ”<br> +<br> +“I know it does, Jasper; it means fun, ridicule, jest; it is an +ancient Norse word, and is found in the Edda.”<br> +<br> +“Lor’, brother! how learned in lils you are!”<br> +<br> +“Many words of Norse are to be found in our vulgar sayings, Jasper; +for example - in that particularly vulgar saying of ours, ‘Your +mother is up,’ there’s a noble Norse word; mother, there, +meaning not the female who bore us, but rage and choler, as I discovered +by reading the Sagas, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“Lor’, brother! how book-learned you be.”<br> +<br> +“Indifferently so, Jasper. Then you think you might trust +your wife with the duke?”<br> +<br> +“I think I could, brother, or even with yourself.”<br> +<br> +“Myself, Jasper! Oh, I never troubled my head about your +wife; but I suppose there have been love affairs between gorgios and +Romany chies. Why, novels are stuffed with such matters; and then +even one of your own songs says so - the song which Ursula was singing +the other afternoon.”<br> +<br> +“That is somewhat of an old song, brother, and is sung by the +chies as a warning at our solemn festivals.”<br> +<br> +“Well! but there’s your sister-in-law, Ursula, herself, +Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“Ursula, herself, brother?”<br> +<br> +“You were talking of my having her, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“Well, brother, why didn’t you have her?”<br> +<br> +“Would she have had me?”<br> +<br> +“Of course, brother. You are so much of a Roman, and speak +Romany so remarkably well.”<br> +<br> +“Poor thing! she looks very innocent!”<br> +<br> +“Remarkably so, brother! however, though not born on the same +common with my wife, she knows a thing or two of Roman matters.”<br> +<br> +“I should like to ask her a question or two, Jasper, in connection +with that song.”<br> +<br> +“You can do no better, brother. Here we are at the camp. +After tea, take Ursula under a hedge, and ask her a question or two +in connection with that song.”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER X<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Sunday Evening - Ursula - Action at Law - Meridiana - Married Already.<br> +<br> +<br> +I took tea that evening with Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro and Ursula, outside +of their tent. Tawno was not present, being engaged with his wife +in his own tabernacle; Sylvester was there, however, lolling listlessly +upon the ground. As I looked upon this man, I thought him one +of the most disagreeable fellows I had ever seen. His features +were ugly, and, moreover, as dark as pepper; and, besides being dark, +his skin was dirty. As for his dress, it was torn and sordid. +His chest was broad, and his arms seemed powerful; but, upon the whole, +he looked a very caitiff. “I am sorry that man has lost +his wife,” thought I; “for I am sure he will never get another.” +What surprises me is, that he ever found a woman disposed to unite her +lot with his!<br> +<br> +After tea I got up and strolled about the field. My thoughts were +upon Isopel Berners. I wondered where she was, and how long she +would stay away. At length becoming tired and listless, I determined +to return to the dingle, and resume the reading of the Bible at the +place where I had left off. “What better could I do,” +methought, “on a Sunday evening?” I was then near +the wood which surrounded the dingle, but at that side which was farthest +from the encampment, which stood near the entrance. Suddenly, +on turning round the southern corner of the copse, which surrounded +the dingle, I perceived Ursula seated under a thornbush. I thought +I never saw her look prettier than then, dressed as she was, in her +Sunday’s best.<br> +<br> +“Good evening, Ursula,” said I; “I little thought +to have the pleasure of seeing you here.”<br> +<br> +“Nor would you, brother,” said Ursula, “had not Jasper +told me that you had been talking about me, and wanted to speak to me +under a hedge; so, hearing that, I watched your motions, and came here +and sat down.”<br> +<br> +“I was thinking of going to my quarters in the dingle, to read +the Bible, Ursula, but - ”<br> +<br> +“Oh, pray then, go to your quarters, brother, and read the Miduveleskoe +lil; you can speak to me under a hedge some other time.”<br> +<br> +“I think I will sit down with you, Ursula; for, after all, reading +godly books in dingles at eve, is rather sombre work. Yes, I think +I will sit down with you;” and I sat down by her side.<br> +<br> +“Well, brother, now you have sat down with me under the hedge, +what have you to say to me?”<br> +<br> +“Why, I hardly know, Ursula.”<br> +<br> +“Not know, brother; a pretty fellow you to ask young women to +come and sit with you under hedges, and, when they come, not know what +to say to them.”<br> +<br> +“Oh! ah! I remember; do you know, Ursula, that I take a great +interest in you?”<br> +<br> +“Thank ye, brother; kind of you, at any rate.”<br> +<br> +“You must be exposed to a great many temptations, Ursula.”<br> +<br> +“A great many indeed, brother. It is hard, to see fine things, +such as shawls, gold watches, and chains in the shops, behind the big +glasses, and to know that they are not intended for one. Many’s +the time I have been tempted to make a dash at them; but I bethought +myself that by so doing I should cut my hands, besides being almost +certain of being grabbed and sent across the gull’s bath to the +foreign country.”<br> +<br> +“Then you think gold and fine things temptations, Ursula?”<br> +<br> +“Of course, brother, very great temptations; don’t you think +them so?”<br> +<br> +“Can’t say I do, Ursula.”<br> +<br> +“Then more fool you, brother; but have the kindness to tell me +what you would call a temptation?”<br> +<br> +“Why, for example, the hope of honour and renown, Ursula.”<br> +<br> +“The hope of honour and renown! very good, brother; but I tell +you one thing, that unless you have money in your pocket, and good broad-cloth +on your back, you are not likely to obtain much honour and - what do +you call it? amongst the gorgios, to say nothing of the Romany chals.”<br> +<br> +“I should have thought, Ursula, that the Romany chals, roaming +about the world as they do, free and independent, were above being led +by such trifles.”<br> +<br> +“Then you know nothing of the gypsies, brother; no people on earth +are fonder of those trifles, as you call them, than the Romany chals, +and more disposed to respect those who have them.”<br> +<br> +“Then money and fine clothes would induce you to do anything, +Ursula?”<br> +<br> +“Ay, ay, brother, anything.”<br> +<br> +“To chore, Ursula?”<br> +<br> +“Like enough, brother; gypsies have been transported before now +for choring.”<br> +<br> +“To hokkawar?”<br> +<br> +“Ay, ay; I was telling dukkerin only yesterday, brother.”<br> +<br> +“In fact, to break the law in everything?”<br> +<br> +“Who knows, brother, who knows? as I said before, gold and fine +clothes are great temptations.”<br> +<br> +“Well, Ursula, I am sorry for it, I should never have thought +you so depraved.”<br> +<br> +“Indeed, brother.”<br> +<br> +“To think that I am seated by one who is willing to - to - ”<br> +<br> +“Go on, brother.”<br> +<br> +“To play the thief.”<br> +<br> +“Go on, brother.”<br> +<br> +“The liar.”<br> +<br> +“Go on, brother.”<br> +<br> +“The - the - ”<br> +<br> +“Go on, brother.”<br> +<br> +“The - the lubbeny.”<br> +<br> +“The what, brother?” said Ursula, starting from her seat.<br> +<br> +“Why, the lubbeny; don’t you - ”<br> +<br> +“I tell you what, brother,” said Ursula, looking somewhat +pale, and speaking very low, “if I had only something in my hand, +I would do you a mischief.”<br> +<br> +“Why, what is the matter, Ursula?” said I; “how have +I offended you?”<br> +<br> +“How have you offended me? Why, didn’t you insinivate +just now that I was ready to play the - the - ”<br> +<br> +“Go on, Ursula.”<br> +<br> +“The - the - I’ll not say it; but I only wish I had something +in my hand.”<br> +<br> +“If I have offended, Ursula, I am very sorry for it; any offence +I may have given you was from want of understanding you. Come, +pray be seated, I have much to question you about - to talk to you about.”<br> +<br> +“Seated, not I! It was only just now that you gave me to +understand that you was ashamed to be seated by me, a thief, a liar.”<br> +<br> +“Well, did you not almost give me to understand that you were +both, Ursula?”<br> +<br> +“I don’t much care being called a thief and a liar,” +said Ursula; “a person may be a liar and thief, and yet a very +honest woman, but - ”<br> +<br> +“Well, Ursula.”<br> +<br> +“I tell you what, brother, if you ever sinivate again that I could +be the third thing, so help me duvel! I’ll do you a mischief. +By my God I will!”<br> +<br> +“Well, Ursula, I assure you that I shall sinivate, as you call +it, nothing of the kind about you. I have no doubt, from what +you have said, that you are a very paragon of virtue - a perfect Lucretia; +but - ”<br> +<br> +“My name is Ursula, brother, and not Lucretia: Lucretia is not +of our family, but one of the Bucklands; she travels about Oxfordshire; +yet I am as good as she any day.”<br> +<br> +“Lucretia; how odd! Where could she have got that name? +Well, I make no doubt, Ursula, that you are quite as good as she, and +she as her namesake of ancient Rome; but there is a mystery in this +same virtue, Ursula, which I cannot fathom; how a thief and a liar should +be able, or indeed willing, to preserve her virtue is what I don’t +understand. You confess that you are very fond of gold. +Now, how is it that you don’t barter your virtue for gold sometimes? +I am a philosopher, Ursula, and like to know everything. You must +be every now and then exposed to great temptation, Ursula; for you are +of a beauty calculated to captivate all hearts. Come, sit down +and tell me how you are enabled to resist such a temptation as gold +and fine clothes?”<br> +<br> +“Well, brother,” said Ursula, “as you say you mean +no harm, I will sit down beside you, and enter into discourse with you; +but I will uphold that you are the coolest hand that I ever came nigh, +and say the coolest things.”<br> +<br> +And thereupon Ursula sat down by my side.<br> +<br> +“Well, Ursula, we will, if you please, discourse on the subject +of your temptations. I suppose that you travel very much about, +and show yourself in all kinds of places?”<br> +<br> +“In all kinds, brother; I travels, as you say, very much about, +attends fairs and races, and enters booths and public-houses, where +I tells fortunes, and sometimes dances and sings.”<br> +<br> +“And do not people often address you in a very free manner?”<br> +<br> +“Frequently, brother; and I give them tolerably free answers.”<br> +<br> +“Do people ever offer to make you presents? I mean presents +of value, such as - ”<br> +<br> +“Silk handkerchiefs, shawls, and trinkets; very frequently, brother.”<br> +<br> +“And what do you do, Ursula?”<br> +<br> +“I takes what people offers me, brother, and stows it away as +soon as I can.”<br> +<br> +“Well, but don’t people expect something for their presents? +I don’t mean dukkerin, dancing, and the like; but such a moderate +and innocent thing as a choomer, Ursula?”<br> +<br> +“Innocent thing, do you call it, brother?”<br> +<br> +“The world calls it so, Ursula. Well, do the people who +give you the fine things never expect a choomer in return?”<br> +<br> +“Very frequently, brother.”<br> +<br> +“And do you ever grant it?”<br> +<br> +“Never, brother.”<br> +<br> +“How do you avoid it?”<br> +<br> +“I gets away as soon as possible, brother. If they follows +me, I tries to baffle them, by means of jests and laughter; and if they +persist, I uses bad and terrible language, of which I have plenty in +store.”<br> +<br> +“But if your terrible language has no effect?”<br> +<br> +“Then I screams for the constable, and if he comes not, I uses +my teeth and nails.”<br> +<br> +“And are they always sufficient?”<br> +<br> +“I have only had to use them twice, brother; but then I found +them sufficient.”<br> +<br> +“But suppose the person who followed you was highly agreeable, +Ursula? A handsome young officer of local militia, for example, +all dressed in Lincoln green, would you still refuse him the choomer?”<br> +<br> +“We makes no difference, brother; the daughters of the gypsy-father +makes no difference; and what’s more, sees none.”<br> +<br> +“Well, Ursula, the world will hardly give you credit for such +indifference.”<br> +<br> +“What cares we for the world, brother! we are not of the world.”<br> +<br> +“But your fathers, brothers, and uncles, give you credit, I suppose, +Ursula.”<br> +<br> +“Ay, ay, brother, our fathers, brothers, and cokos gives us all +manner of credit; for example, I am telling lies and dukkerin in a public-house +where my batu or coko - perhaps both - are playing on the fiddle; well, +my batu and my coko beholds me amongst the public-house crew, talking +nonsense and hearing nonsense; but they are under no apprehension; and +presently they sees the good-looking officer of militia, in his greens +and Lincolns, get up and give me a wink, and I go out with him abroad, +into the dark night perhaps; well, my batu and my coko goes on fiddling +just as if I were six miles off asleep in the tent, and not out in the +dark street with the local officer, with his Lincolns and his greens.”<br> +<br> +“They know they can trust you, Ursula?”<br> +<br> +“Ay, ay, brother; and, what’s more, I knows I can trust +myself.”<br> +<br> +“So you would merely go out to make a fool of him, Ursula?”<br> +<br> +“Merely go out to make a fool of him, brother, I assure you.”<br> +<br> +“But such proceedings really have an odd look, Ursula.”<br> +<br> +“Amongst gorgios, very so, brother.”<br> +<br> +“Well, it must be rather unpleasant to lose one’s character +even amongst gorgios, Ursula; and suppose the officer, out of revenge +for being tricked and duped by you, were to say of you the thing that +is not, were to meet you on the race-course the next day, and boast +of receiving favours which he never had, amidst a knot of jeering militia-men, +how would you proceed, Ursula? would you not be abashed?”<br> +<br> +“By no means, brother; I should bring my action of law against +him.”<br> +<br> +“Your action at law, Ursula?”<br> +<br> +“Yes, brother, I should give a whistle, whereupon all one’s +cokos and batus, and all my near and distant relations, would leave +their fiddling, dukkerin, and horse-dealing, and come flocking about +me. ‘What’s the matter, Ursula?’ says my coko. +‘Nothing at all,’ I replies, ‘save and except that +gorgio, in his greens and his Lincolns, says that I have played the +- with him.’ ‘Oho, he does, Ursula,’ says my +coko, ‘try your action of law against him, my lamb,’ and +he puts something privily into my hands; whereupon I goes close up to +the grinning gorgio, and staring him in the face, with my head pushed +forward, I cries out: ‘You say I did what was wrong with you last +night when I was out with you abroad?’ ‘Yes,’ +says the local officer, ‘I says you did,’ looking down all +the time. ‘You are a liar,’ says I, and forthwith +I breaks his head with the stick which I holds behind me, and which +my coko has conveyed privily into my hand.”<br> +<br> +“And this is your action at law, Ursula?”<br> +<br> +“Yes, brother, this is my action at club-law.”<br> +<br> +“And would your breaking the fellow’s head quite clear you +of all suspicion in the eyes of your batus, cokos, and what not?”<br> +<br> +“They would never suspect me at all, brother, because they would +know that I would never condescend to be over-intimate with a gorgio; +the breaking the head would be merely intended to justify Ursula in +the eyes of the gorgios.”<br> +<br> +“And would it clear you in their eyes?”<br> +<br> +“Would it not, brother? when they saw the blood running down from +the fellow’s cracked poll on his greens and Lincolns, they would +be quite satisfied; why, the fellow would not be able to show his face +at fair or merry-making for a year and three-quarters.”<br> +<br> +“Did you ever try it, Ursula?”<br> +<br> +“Can’t say I ever did, brother, but it would do.”<br> +<br> +“And how did you ever learn such a method of proceeding?”<br> +<br> +“Why, ‘t is advised by gypsy liri, brother. It’s +part of our way of settling difficulties amongst ourselves; for example, +if a young Roman were to say the thing which is not respecting Ursula +and himself, Ursula would call a great meeting of the people, who would +all sit down in a ring, the young fellow amongst them; a coko would +then put a stick in Ursula’s hand, who would then get up and go +to the young fellow, and say, ‘Did I play the - with you?’ +and were he to say ‘Yes,’ she would crack his head before +the eyes of all.”<br> +<br> +“Well,” said I, “Ursula, I was bred an apprentice +to gorgio law, and of course ought to stand up for it, whenever I conscientiously +can, but I must say the gypsy manner of bringing an action for defamation +is much less tedious, and far more satisfactory, than the gorgiko one. +I wish you now to clear up a certain point which is rather mysterious +to me. You say that for a Romany chi to do what is unseemly with +a gorgio is quite out of the question, yet only the other day I heard +you singing a song in which a Romany chi confesses herself to be cambri +by a grand gorgious gentleman.”<br> +<br> +“A sad let down,” said Ursula.<br> +<br> +“Well,” said I, “sad or not, there’s the song +that speaks of the thing, which you give me to understand is not.”<br> +<br> +“Well, if the thing ever was,” said Ursula, “it was +a long time ago, and perhaps, after all, not true.”<br> +<br> +“Then why do you sing the song?”<br> +<br> +“I’ll tell you, brother, we sings the song now and then +to be a warning to ourselves to have as little to do as possible in +the way of acquaintance with the gorgios; and a warning it is; you see +how the young woman in the song was driven out of her tent by her mother, +with all kind of disgrace and bad language; but you don’t know +that she was afterwards buried alive by her cokos and pals, in an uninhabited +place; the song doesn’t say it, but the story says it, for there +is a story about it, though, as I said before, it was a long time ago, +and perhaps, after all, wasn’t true.”<br> +<br> +“But if such a thing were to happen at present, would the cokos +and pals bury the girl alive?”<br> +<br> +“I can’t say what they would do,” said Ursula; “I +suppose they are not so strict as they were long ago; at any rate, she +would be driven from the tan, and avoided by all her family and relations +as a gorgio’s acquaintance; so that, perhaps, at last, she would +be glad if they would bury her alive.”<br> +<br> +“Well, I can conceive that there would be an objection on the +part of the cokos and batus that a Romany chi should form an improper +acquaintance with a gorgio, but I should think that the batus and cokos +could hardly object to the chi’s entering into the honourable +estate of wedlock with a gorgio.”<br> +<br> +Ursula was silent.<br> +<br> +“Marriage is an honourable estate, Ursula.”<br> +<br> +“Well, brother, suppose it be?”<br> +<br> +“I don’t see why a Romany chi should object to enter into +the honourable estate of wedlock with a gorgio.”<br> +<br> +“You don’t, brother; don’t you?”<br> +<br> +“No,” said I; “and, moreover, I am aware, notwithstanding +your evasion, Ursula, that marriages and connections now and then occur +between gorgios and Romany chies; the result of which is the mixed breed, +called half and half, which is at present travelling about England, +and to which the Flaming Tinman belongs, otherwise called Anselo Herne.”<br> +<br> +“As for the half and halfs,” said Ursula, “they are +a bad set; and there is not a worse blackguard in England than Anselo +Herne.”<br> +<br> +“All that you say may be very true, Ursula, but you admit that +there are half and halfs.”<br> +<br> +“The more’s the pity, brother.”<br> +<br> +“Pity, or not, you admit the fact; but how do you account for +it?”<br> +<br> +“How do I account for it? why, I will tell you, by the break up +of a Roman family, brother - the father of a small family dies, and, +perhaps, the mother; and the poor children are left behind; sometimes, +they are gathered up by their relations, and sometimes, if they have +none, by charitable Romans, who bring them up in the observance of gypsy +law; but sometimes they are not so lucky, and falls into the company +of gorgios, trampers, and basket-makers, who live in caravans, with +whom they take up, and so - I hate to talk of the matter, brother; but +so comes this race of the half and halfs.”<br> +<br> +“Then you mean to say, Ursula, that no Romany chi, unless compelled +by hard necessity, would have anything to do with a gorgio?”<br> +<br> +“We are not over-fond of gorgios, brother, and we hates basket-makers, +and folks that live in caravans.”<br> +<br> +“Well,” said I, “suppose a gorgio who is not a basket-maker, +a fine, handsome gorgious gentleman, who lives in a fine house - ”<br> +<br> +“We are not fond of houses, brother; I never slept in a house +in my life.”<br> +<br> +“But would not plenty of money induce you?”<br> +<br> +“I hate houses, brother, and those who live in them.”<br> +<br> +“Well, suppose such a person were willing to resign his fine house; +and, for love of you, to adopt gypsy law, speak Romany, and live in +a tan, would you have nothing to say to him?”<br> +<br> +“Bringing plenty of money with him, brother?”<br> +<br> +“Well, bringing plenty of money with him, Ursula.”<br> +<br> +“Well, brother, suppose you produce your man; where is he?”<br> +<br> +“I was merely supposing such a person, Ursula.”<br> +<br> +“Then you don’t know of such a person, brother?”<br> +<br> +“Why, no, Ursula; why do you ask?”<br> +<br> +“Because, brother, I was almost beginning to think that you meant +yourself.”<br> +<br> +“Myself! Ursula; I have no fine house to resign; nor have +I money. Moreover, Ursula, though I have a great regard for you, +and though I consider you very handsome, quite as handsome, indeed, +as Meridiana in - ”<br> +<br> +“Meridiana! where did you meet with her?” said Ursula, with +a toss of her head.<br> +<br> +“Why, in old Pulci’s - ”<br> +<br> +“At old Fulcher’s! that’s not true, brother. +Meridiana is a Borzlam, and travels with her own people, and not with +old Fulcher, who is a gorgio, and a basket-maker.”<br> +<br> +“I was not speaking of old Fulcher, but Pulci, a great Italian +writer, who lived many hundred years ago, and who, in his poem called +‘Morgante Maggiore,’ speaks of Meridiana, the daughter of +- ”<br> +<br> +“Old Carus Borzlam,” said Ursula; “but if the fellow +you mention lived so many hundred years ago, how, in the name of wonder, +could he know anything of Meridiana?”<br> +<br> +“The wonder, Ursula, is, how your people could ever have got hold +of that name, and similar ones. The Meridiana of Pulci was not +the daughter of old Carus Borzlam, but of Caradoro, a great pagan king +of the East, who, being besieged in his capital by Manfredonio, another +mighty pagan king, who wished to obtain possession of his daughter, +who had refused him, was relieved in his distress by certain paladins +of Charlemagne, with one of whom, Oliver, his daughter Meridiana fell +in love.”<br> +<br> +“I see,” said, Ursula, “that it must have been altogether +a different person, for I am sure that Meridiana Borzlam would never +have fallen in love with Oliver. Oliver! why, that is the name +of the curo-mengro, who lost the fight near the chong gav, the day of +the great tempest, when I got wet through. No, no! Meridiana +Borzlam would never have so far forgot her blood as to take up with +Tom Oliver.”<br> +<br> +“I was not talking of that Oliver, Ursula, but of Oliver, peer +of France, and paladin of Charlemagne, with whom Meridiana, daughter +of Caradoro, fell in love, and for whose sake she renounced her religion +and became a Christian, and finally ingravidata, or cambri, by him:-<br> +<br> +<br> +‘E nacquene un figliuol, dice la storia,<br> +Che dette a Carlo-man poi gran vittoria;’<br> +<br> +<br> +which means - ”<br> +<br> +“I don’t want to know what it means,” said Ursula; +“no good, I’m sure. Well, if the Meridiana of Charles’s +wain’s pal was no handsomer than Meridiana Borzlam, she was no +great catch, brother; for though I am by no means given to vanity, I +think myself better to look at than she, though I will say she is no +lubbeny, and would scorn - ”<br> +<br> +“I make no doubt she would, Ursula, and I make no doubt that you +are much handsomer than she, or even the Meridiana of Oliver. +What I was about to say, before you interrupted me, is this, that though +I have a great regard for you, and highly admire you, it is only in +a brotherly way, and - ”<br> +<br> +“And you had nothing better to say to me,” said Ursula, +“when you wanted to talk to me beneath a hedge, than that you +liked me in a brotherly way I well, I declare - ”<br> +<br> +“You seem disappointed, Ursula.”<br> +<br> +“Disappointed, brother! not I.”<br> +<br> +“You were just now saying that you disliked gorgios, so, of course, +could only wish that I, who am a gorgio, should like you in a brotherly +way: I wished to have a conversation with you beneath a hedge, but only +with the view of procuring from you some information respecting the +song which you sung the other day, and the conduct of Roman females, +which has always struck me as being highly unaccountable; so, if you +thought anything else - ”<br> +<br> +“What else should I expect from a picker-up of old words, brother? +Bah! I dislike a picker-up of old words worse than a picker-up of old +rags.”<br> +<br> +“Don’t be angry, Ursula, I feel a great interest in you; +you are very handsome, and very clever; indeed, with your beauty and +cleverness, I only wonder that you have not long since been married.”<br> +<br> +“You do, do you, brother?”<br> +<br> +“Yes. However, keep up your spirits, Ursula, you are not +much past the prime of youth, so - ”<br> +<br> +“Not much past the prime of youth! Don’t be uncivil, +brother, I was only twenty-two last month.”<br> +<br> +“Don’t be offended, Ursula, but twenty-two is twenty-two, +or, I should rather say, that twenty-two in a woman is more than twenty-six +in a man. You are still very beautiful, but I advise you to accept +the first offer that’s made to you.”<br> +<br> +“Thank you, brother, but your advice comes rather late; I accepted +the first offer that was made me five years ago.”<br> +<br> +“You married five years ago, Ursula! is it possible?”<br> +<br> +“Quite possible, brother, I assure you.”<br> +<br> +“And how came I to know nothing about it?”<br> +<br> +“How comes it that you don’t know many thousand things about +the Romans, brother? Do you think they tell you all their affairs?”<br> +<br> +“Married, Ursula, married! well, I declare!”<br> +<br> +“You seem disappointed, brother.”<br> +<br> +“Disappointed! Oh! no, not at all; but Jasper, only a few +weeks ago, told me that you were not married; and, indeed, almost gave +me to understand that you would be very glad to get a husband.”<br> +<br> +“And you believed him? I’ll tell you, brother, for +your instruction, that there is not in the whole world a greater liar +than Jasper Petulengro.”<br> +<br> +“I am sorry to hear it, Ursula; but with respect to him you married +- who might he be? A gorgio, or a Romany chal?”<br> +<br> +“Gorgio, or Romany chal! Do you think I would ever condescend +to a gorgio! It was a Camomescro, brother, a Lovell, a distant +relation of my own.”<br> +<br> +“And where is he? and what became of him! Have you any family?”<br> +<br> +“Don’t think I am going to tell you all my history, brother; +and, to tell you the truth, I am tired of sitting under hedges with +you, talking nonsense. I shall go to my house.”<br> +<br> +“Do sit a little longer, sister Ursula. I most heartily +congratulate you on your marriage. But where is this same Lovell? +I have never seen him: I wish to congratulate him too. You are +quite as handsome as the Meridiana of Pulci, Ursula, ay, or the Despina +of Riciardetto. Riciardetto, Ursula, is a poem written by one +Fortiguerra, about ninety years ago, in imitation of the Morgante of +Pulci. It treats of the wars of Charlemagne and his Paladins with +various barbarous nations, who came to besiege Paris. Despina +was the daughter and heiress of Scricca, King of Cafria; she was the +beloved of Riciardetto, and was beautiful as an angel; but I make no +doubt you are quite as handsome as she.”<br> +<br> +“Brother,” said Ursula - but the reply of Ursula I reserve +for another chapter, the present having attained to rather an uncommon +length, for which, however, the importance of the matter discussed is +a sufficient apology.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XI<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Ursula’s Tale - The Patteran - The Deep Water - Second Husband.<br> +<br> +<br> +“Brother,” said Ursula, plucking a dandelion which grew +at her feet, “I have always said that a more civil and pleasant-spoken +person than yourself can’t be found. I have a great regard +for you and your learning, and am willing to do you any pleasure in +the way of words or conversation. Mine is not a very happy story, +but as you wish to hear it, it is quite at your service. Launcelot +Lovell made me an offer, as you call it, and we were married in Roman +fashion; that is, we gave each other our right hands, and promised to +be true to each other. We lived together two years, travelling +sometimes by ourselves, sometimes with our relations; I bore him two +children, both of which were still-born, partly, I believe, from the +fatigue I underwent in running about the country telling dukkerin when +I was not exactly in a state to do so, and partly from the kicks and +blows which my husband Launcelot was in the habit of giving me every +night, provided I came home with less than five shillings, which it +is sometimes impossible to make in the country, provided no fair or +merry-making is going on. At the end of two years my husband, +Launcelot, whistled a horse from a farmer’s field, and sold it +for forty-pounds; and for that horse he was taken, put in prison, tried, +and condemned to be sent to the other country for life. Two days +before he was to be sent away, I got leave to see him in the prison, +and in the presence of the turnkey I gave him a thin cake of gingerbread, +in which there was a dainty saw which could cut through iron. +I then took on wonderfully, turned my eyes inside out, fell down in +a seeming fit, and was carried out of the prison. That same night +my husband sawed his irons off, cut through the bars of his window, +and dropping down a height of fifty feet, lighted on his legs, and came +and joined me on a heath where I was camped alone. We were just +getting things ready to be off, when we heard people coming, and sure +enough they were runners after my husband, Launcelot Lovell; for his +escape had been discovered within a quarter of an hour after he had +got away. My husband, without bidding me farewell, set off at +full speed, and they after him, but they could not take him, and so +they came back and took me, and shook me, and threatened me, and had +me before the poknees, who shook his head at me, and threatened me in +order to make me discover where my husband was, but I said I did not +know, which was true enough; not that I would have told him if I had. +So at last the poknees and the runners, not being able to make anything +out of me, were obliged to let me go, and I went in search of my husband. +I wandered about with my cart for several days in the direction in which +I saw him run off, with my eyes bent on the ground, but could see no +marks of him; at last, coming to four cross roads, I saw my husband’s +patteran.”<br> +<br> +“You saw your husband’s patteran?”<br> +<br> +“Yes, brother. Do you know what patteran means?”<br> +<br> +“Of course, Ursula; the gypsy trail, the handful of grass which +the gypsies strew in the roads as they travel, to give information to +any of their companions who may be behind, as to the route they have +taken. The gypsy patteran has always had a strange interest for +me, Ursula.”<br> +<br> +“Like enough, brother; but what does patteran mean?”<br> +<br> +“Why, the gypsy trail, formed as I told you before.”<br> +<br> +“And you know nothing more about patteran, brother?”<br> +<br> +“Nothing at all, Ursula; do you?”<br> +<br> +“What’s the name for the leaf of a tree, brother?”<br> +<br> +“I don’t know,” said I; “it’s odd enough +that I have asked that question of a dozen Romany chals and chies, and +they always told me that they did not know.”<br> +<br> +“No more they did, brother; there’s only one person in England +that knows, and that’s myself - the name for a leaf is patteran. +Now there are two that knows it - the other is yourself.”<br> +<br> +“Dear me, Ursula, how very strange! I am much obliged to +you. I think I never saw you look so pretty as you do now; but +who told you?”<br> +<br> +“My mother, Mrs. Herne, told it me one day, brother, when she +was in a good humour, which she very seldom was, as no one has a better +right to know than yourself, as she hated you mortally: it was one day +when you had been asking our company what was the word for a leaf, and +nobody could tell you, that she took me aside and told me, for she was +in a good humour, and triumphed in seeing you balked. She told +me the word for leaf was patteran, which our people use now for trail, +having forgotten the true meaning. She said that the trail was +called patteran, because the gypsies of old were in the habit of making +the marks with the leaves and branches of trees, placed in a certain +manner. She said that nobody knew it but herself, who was one +of the old sort, and begged me never to tell the word to any one but +him I should marry; and to be particularly cautious never to let you +know it, whom she hated. Well, brother, perhaps I have done wrong +to tell you; but, as I said before, I likes you, and am always ready +to do your pleasure in words and conversation; my mother, moreover, +is dead and gone, and, poor thing, will never know anything about the +matter. So, when I married, I told my husband about the patteran, +and we were in the habit of making our private trails with leaves and +branches of trees, which none of the other gypsy people did; so, when +I saw my husband’s patteran, I knew it at once, and I followed +it upwards of two hundred miles towards the north; and then I came to +a deep, awful-looking water, with an overhanging bank, and on the bank +I found the patteran, which directed me to proceed along the bank towards +the east, and I followed my husband’s patteran towards the east; +and before I had gone half a mile, I came to a place where I saw the +bank had given way, and fallen into the deep water. Without paying +much heed, I passed on, and presently came to a public-house, not far +from the water, and I entered the public-house to get a little beer, +and perhaps to tell a dukkerin, for I saw a great many people about +the door; and, when I entered, I found there was what they calls an +inquest being held upon a body in that house, and the jury had just +risen to go and look at the body; and being a woman, and having a curiosity, +I thought I would go with them, and so I did; and no sooner did I see +the body, than I knew it to be my husband’s; it was much swelled +and altered, but I knew it partly by the clothes, and partly by a mark +on the forehead, and I cried out, ‘It is my husband’s body,’ +and I fell down in a fit, and the fit that time, brother, was not a +seeming one.”<br> +<br> +“Dear me,” said I, “how terrible! but tell me, Ursula, +how did your husband come by his death?”<br> +<br> +“The bank, overhanging the deep water, gave way under him, brother, +and he was drowned; for, like most of our people, he could not swim, +or only a little. The body, after it had been in the water a long +time, came up of itself, and was found floating. Well, brother, +when the people of the neighbourhood found that I was the wife of the +drowned man, they were very kind to me, and made a subscription for +me, with which, after having seen my husband buried, I returned the +way I had come, till I met Jasper and his people, and with them I have +travelled ever since: I was very melancholy for a long time, I assure +you, brother; for the death of my husband preyed very much upon my mind.”<br> +<br> +“His death was certainly a very shocking one, Ursula; but, really, +if he had died a natural one, you could scarcely have regretted it, +for he appears to have treated you barbarously.”<br> +<br> +“Women must bear, brother; and, barring that he kicked and beat +me, and drove me out to tell dukkerin when I could scarcely stand, he +was not a bad husband. A man, by gypsy law, brother, is allowed +to kick and beat his wife, and to bury her alive, if he thinks proper. +I am a gypsy, and have nothing to say against the law.”<br> +<br> +“But what has Mikailia Chikno to say about it?”<br> +<br> +“She is a cripple, brother, the only cripple amongst the Roman +people: so she is allowed to do and say as she pleases. Moreover, +her husband does not think fit to kick or beat her, though it is my +opinion she would like him all the better if he were occasionally to +do so, and threaten to bury her alive; at any rate, she would treat +him better, and respect him more.”<br> +<br> +“Your sister does not seem to stand much in awe of Jasper Petulengro, +Ursula.”<br> +<br> +“Let the matters of my sister and Jasper Petulengro alone, brother; +you must travel in their company some time before you can understand +them; they are a strange two, up to all kind of chaffing: but two more +regular Romans don’t breathe, and I’ll tell you, for your +instruction, that there isn’t a better mare-breaker in England +than Jasper Petulengro, if you can manage Miss Isopel Berners as well +as - ”<br> +<br> +“Isopel Berners,” said I, “how came you to think of +her?”<br> +<br> +“How should I but think of her, brother, living as she does with +you in Mumper’s dingle, and travelling about with you; you will +have, brother, more difficulty to manage her, than Jasper has to manage +my sister Pakomovna. I should have mentioned her before, only +I wanted to know what you had to say to me; and when we got into discourse, +I forgot her. I say, brother, let me tell you your dukkerin, with +respect to her, you will never - ”<br> +<br> +“I want to hear no dukkerin, Ursula.”<br> +<br> +“Do let me tell you your dukkerin, brother, you will never manage +- ”<br> +<br> +“I want to hear no dukkerin, Ursula, in connection with Isopel +Berners. Moreover, it is Sunday, we will change the subject; it +is surprising to me that, after all you have undergone, you should look +so beautiful. I suppose you do not think of marrying again, Ursula?”<br> +<br> +“No, brother, one husband at a time is quite enough for any reasonable +mort; especially such a good husband as I have got.”<br> +<br> +“Such a good husband! why, I thought you told me your husband +was drowned?”<br> +<br> +“Yes, brother, my first husband was.”<br> +<br> +“And have you a second?”<br> +<br> +“To be sure, brother.”<br> +<br> +“And who is he? in the name of wonder.”<br> +<br> +“Who is he? why Sylvester, to be sure.”<br> +<br> +“I do assure you, Ursula, that I feel disposed to be angry with +you; such a handsome young woman as yourself to take up with such a +nasty pepper-faced good for nothing - ”<br> +<br> +“I won’t hear my husband abused, brother; so you had better +say no more.”<br> +<br> +“Why, is he not the Lazarus of the gypsies? has he a penny of +his own, Ursula?”<br> +<br> +“Then the more his want, brother, of a clever chi like me to take +care of him and his childer. I tell you what, brother, I will +chore, if necessary, and tell dukkerin for Sylvester, if even so heavy +as scarcely to be able to stand. You call him lazy; you would +not think him lazy if you were in a ring with him: he is a proper man +with his hands; Jasper is going to back him for twenty pounds against +Slammocks of the Chong gav, the brother of Roarer and Bell-metal, he +says he has no doubt that he will win.”<br> +<br> +“Well, if you like him, I, of course, can have no objection. +Have you been long married?”<br> +<br> +“About a fortnight, brother; that dinner, the other day, when +I sang the song, was given in celebration of the wedding.”<br> +<br> +“Were you married in a church, Ursula?”<br> +<br> +“We were not, brother; none but gorgios, cripples, and lubbenys +are ever married in a church: we took each other’s words. +Brother, I have been with you near three hours beneath this hedge. +I will go to my husband.”<br> +<br> +“Does he know that you are here?”<br> +<br> +“He does, brother.”<br> +<br> +“And is he satisfied?”<br> +<br> +“Satisfied! of course. Lor’, you gorgies! Brother, +I go to my husband and my house.” And, thereupon, Ursula +rose and departed.<br> +<br> +After waiting a little time I also arose; it was now dark, and I thought +I could do no better than betake myself to the dingle; at the entrance +of it I found Mr. Petulengro. “Well, brother,” said +he, “what kind of conversation have you and Ursula had beneath +the hedge?”<br> +<br> +“If you wished to hear what we were talking about, you should +have come and sat down beside us; you knew where we were.”<br> +<br> +“Well, brother, I did much the same, for I went and sat down behind +you.”<br> +<br> +“Behind the hedge, Jasper?”<br> +<br> +“Behind the hedge, brother.”<br> +<br> +“And heard all our conversation.”<br> +<br> +“Every word, brother; and a rum conversation it was.”<br> +<br> +“’Tis an old saying, Jasper, that listeners never hear any +good of themselves; perhaps you heard the epithet that Ursula bestowed +upon you.”<br> +<br> +“If, by epitaph, you mean that she called me a liar, I did, brother, +and she was not much wrong, for I certainly do not always stick exactly +to truth; you, however, have not much to complain of me.”<br> +<br> +“You deceived me about Ursula, giving me to understand she was +not married.”<br> +<br> +“She was not married when I told you so, brother; that is, not +to Sylvester; nor was I aware that she was going to marry him. +I once thought you had a kind of regard for her, and I am sure she had +as much for you as a Romany chi can have for a gorgio. I half +expected to have heard you make love to her behind the hedge, but I +begin to think you care for nothing in this world but old words and +strange stories. Lor’ to take a young woman under a hedge, +and talk to her as you did to Ursula; and yet you got everything out +of her that you wanted, with your gammon about old Fulcher and Meridiana. +You are a cunning one, brother.”<br> +<br> +“There you are mistaken, Jasper. I am not cunning. +If people think I am, it is because, being made up of art themselves, +simplicity of character is a puzzle to them. Your women are certainly +extraordinary creatures, Jasper.”<br> +<br> +“Didn’t I say they were rum animals? Brother, we Romans +shall always stick together as long as they stick fast to us.”<br> +<br> +“Do you think they always will, Jasper?”<br> +<br> +“Can’t say, brother; nothing lasts for ever. Romany +chies are Romany chies still, though not exactly what they were sixty +years ago. My wife, though a rum one, is not Mrs. Herne, brother. +I think she is rather fond of Frenchmen and French discourse. +I tell you what, brother, if ever gypsyism breaks up, it will be owing +to our chies having been bitten by that mad puppy they calls gentility.”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XII<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The Dingle at Night - The Two Sides of the Question - Roman Females +- Filling the Kettle - The Dream - The Tall Figure.<br> +<br> +<br> +I descended to the bottom of the dingle. It was nearly involved +in obscurity. To dissipate the feeling of melancholy which came +over my mind, I resolved to kindle a fire; and having heaped dry sticks +upon my hearth, and added a billet or two, I struck a light, and soon +produced a blaze. Sitting down, I fixed my eyes upon the blaze, +and soon fell into a deep meditation. I thought of the events +of the day, the scene at church, and what I had heard at church, the +danger of losing one’s soul, the doubts of Jasper Petulengro as +to whether one had a soul. I thought over the various arguments +which I had either heard, or which had come spontaneously to my mind, +for or against the probability of a state of future existence. +They appeared to me to be tolerably evenly balanced. I then thought +that it was at all events taking the safest part to conclude that there +was a soul. It would be a terrible thing, after having passed +one’s life in the disbelief of the existence of a soul, to wake +up after death a soul, and to find one’s self a lost soul. +Yes, methought I would come to the conclusion that one has a soul. +Choosing the safe side, however, appeared to me to be playing a rather +dastardly part. I had never been an admirer of people who chose +the safe side in everything; indeed I had always entertained a thorough +contempt for them. Surely it would be showing more manhood to +adopt the dangerous side, that of disbelief; I almost resolved to do +so - but yet in a question of so much importance, I ought not to be +guided by vanity. The question was not which was the safe, but +the true side? yet how was I to know which was the true side? +Then I thought of the Bible - which I had been reading in the morning +- that spoke of the soul and a future state; but was the Bible true? +I had heard learned and moral men say that it was true, but I had also +heard learned and moral men say that it was not: how was I to decide? +Still that balance of probabilities! If I could but see the way +of truth, I would follow it, if necessary, upon hands and knees; on +that I was determined; but I could not see it. Feeling my brain +begin to turn round, I resolved to think of something else; and forthwith +began to think of what had passed between Ursula and myself in our discourse +beneath the hedge.<br> +<br> +I mused deeply on what she had told me as to the virtue of the females +of her race. How singular that virtue must be which was kept pure +and immaculate by the possessor, whilst indulging in habits of falsehood +and dishonesty! I had always thought the gypsy females extraordinary +beings. I had often wondered at them, their dress, their manner +of speaking, and, not least, at their names; but, until the present +day, I had been unacquainted with the most extraordinary point connected +with them. How came they possessed of this extraordinary virtue? +was it because they were thievish? I remembered that an ancient +thief-taker, who had retired from his useful calling, and who frequently +visited the office of my master at law, the respectable S---, who had +the management of his property - I remembered to have heard this worthy, +with whom I occasionally held discourse, philosophic and profound, when +he and I chanced to be alone together in the office, say that all first-rate +thieves were sober, and of well-regulated morals, their bodily passions +being kept in abeyance by their love of gain; but this axiom could scarcely +hold good with respect to these women - however thievish they might +be, they did care for something besides gain: they cared for their husbands. +If they did thieve, they merely thieved for their husbands; and though, +perhaps, some of them were vain, they merely prized their beauty because +it gave them favour in the eyes of their husbands. Whatever the +husbands were - and Jasper had almost insinuated that the males occasionally +allowed themselves some latitude - they appeared to be as faithful to +their husbands as the ancient Roman matrons were to theirs. Roman +matrons! and, after all, might not these be in reality Roman matrons? +They called themselves Romans; might not they be the descendants of +the old Roman matrons? Might not they be of the same blood as +Lucretia? And were not many of their strange names - Lucretia +amongst the rest - handed down to them from old Rome? It is true +their language was not that of old Rome; it was not, however, altogether +different from it. After all, the ancient Romans might be a tribe +of these people, who settled down and founded a village with the tilts +of carts, which, by degrees, and the influx of other people, became +the grand city of the world. I liked the idea of the grand city +of the world owing its origin to a people who had been in the habit +of carrying their houses in their carts. Why, after all, should +not the Romans of history be a branch of these Romans? There were +several points of similarity between them; if Roman matrons were chaste, +both men and women were thieves. Old Rome was the thief of the +world; yet still there were difficulties to be removed before I could +persuade myself that the old Romans and my Romans were identical; and +in trying to remove these difficulties, I felt my brain once more beginning +to turn, and in haste took up another subject of meditation, and that +was the patteran, and what Ursula had told me about it.<br> +<br> +I had always entertained a strange interest for that sign by which in +their wanderings the Romanese gave to those of their people who came +behind intimation as to the direction which they took; but it now inspired +me with greater interest than ever, - now that I had learnt that the +proper meaning of it was the leaves of trees. I had, as I had +said in my dialogue with Ursula, been very eager to learn the word for +leaf in the Romanian language, but had never learnt it till this day; +so patteran signified leaf of a tree; and no one at present knew that +but myself and Ursula, who had learnt it from Mrs. Herne, the last, +it was said, of the old stock; and then I thought what strange people +the gypsies must have been in the old time. They were sufficiently +strange at present, but they must have been far stranger of old; they +must have been a more peculiar people - their language must have been +more perfect - and they must have had a greater stock of strange secrets. +I almost wished that I had lived some two or three hundred years ago, +that I might have observed these people when they were yet stranger +than at present. I wondered whether I could have introduced myself +to their company at that period, whether I should have been so fortunate +as to meet such a strange, half-malicious, half good-humoured being +as Jasper, who would have instructed me in the language, then more deserving +of note than at present. What might I not have done with that +language, had I known it in its purity? Why, I might have written +books in it; yet those who spoke it would hardly have admitted me to +their society at that period, when they kept more to themselves. +Yet I thought that I might possibly have gained their confidence, and +have wandered about with them, and learnt their language, and all their +strange ways, and then - and then - and a sigh rose from the depth of +my breast; for I began to think, “Supposing I had accomplished +all this, what would have been the profit of it; and in what would all +this wild gypsy dream have terminated?”<br> +<br> +Then rose another sigh, yet more profound, for I began to think, “What +was likely to be the profit of my present way of life; the living in +dingles, making pony and donkey shoes, conversing with gypsy-women under +hedges, and extracting from them their odd secrets?” What +was likely to be the profit of such a kind of life, even should it continue +for a length of time? - a supposition not very probable, for I was earning +nothing to support me, and the funds with which I had entered upon this +life were gradually disappearing. I was living, it is true, not +unpleasantly, enjoying the healthy air of heaven; but, upon the whole, +was I not sadly misspending my time? Surely I was; and, as I looked +back, it appeared to me that I had always been doing so. What +had been the profit of the tongues which I had learnt? had they ever +assisted me in the day of hunger? No, no! it appeared to me that +I had always misspent my time, save in one instance, when by a desperate +effort I had collected all the powers of my imagination, and written +the “Life of Joseph Sell;” but even when I wrote the Life +of Sell, was I not in a false position? Provided I had not misspent +my time, would it have been necessary to make that effort, which, after +all, had only enabled me to leave London, and wander about the country +for a time? But could I, taking all circumstances into consideration, +have done better than I had? With my peculiar temperament and +ideas, could I have pursued with advantage the profession to which my +respectable parents had endeavoured to bring me up? It appeared +to me that I could not, and that the hand of necessity had guided me +from my earliest years, until the present night, in which I found myself +seated in the dingle, staring on the brands of the fire. But ceasing +to think of the past which, as irrecoverably gone, it was useless to +regret, even were there cause to regret it, what should I do in future? +Should I write another book like the Life of Joseph Sell; take it to +London, and offer it to a publisher? But when I reflected on the +grisly sufferings which I had undergone whilst engaged in writing the +Life of Sell, I shrank from the idea of a similar attempt; moreover, +I doubted whether I possessed the power to write a similar work - whether +the materials for the life of another Sell lurked within the recesses +of my brain? Had I not better become in reality what I had hitherto +been merely playing at - a tinker or a gypsy? But I soon saw that +I was not fitted to become either in reality. It was much more +agreeable to play the gypsy or the tinker than to become either in reality. +I had seen enough of gypsying and tinkering to be convinced of that. +All of a sudden the idea of tilling the soil came into my head; tilling +the soil was a healthful and noble pursuit! but my idea of tilling the +soil had no connection with Britain; for I could only expect to till +the soil in Britain as a serf. I thought of tilling it in America, +in which it was said there was plenty of wild, unclaimed land, of which +any one, who chose to clear it of its trees, might take possession. +I figured myself in America, in an immense forest, clearing the land +destined, by my exertions, to become a fruitful and smiling plain. +Methought I heard the crash of the huge trees as they fell beneath my +axe; and then I bethought me that a man was intended to marry - I ought +to marry; and if I married, where was I likely to be more happy as a +husband and a father than in America, engaged in tilling the ground? +I fancied myself in America, engaged in tilling the ground, assisted +by an enormous progeny. Well, why not marry, and go and till the +ground in America? I was young, and youth was the time to marry +in, and to labour in. I had the use of all my faculties; my eyes, +it is true, were rather dull from early study, and from writing the +Life of Joseph Sell; but I could see tolerably well with them, and they +were not bleared. I felt my arms, and thighs, and teeth - they +were strong and sound enough; so now was the time to labour, to marry, +eat strong flesh, and beget strong children - the power of doing all +this would pass away with youth, which was terribly transitory. +I bethought me that a time would come when my eyes would be bleared, +and, perhaps, sightless; my arms and thighs strengthless and sapless; +when my teeth would shake in my jaws, even supposing they did not drop +out. No going a wooing then - no labouring - no eating strong +flesh, and begetting lusty children then; and I bethought me how, when +all this should be, I should bewail the days of my youth as misspent, +provided I had not in them founded for myself a home, and begotten strong +children to take care of me in the days when I could not take care of +myself; and thinking of these things, I became sadder and sadder, and +stared vacantly upon the fire till my eyes closed in a doze.<br> +<br> +I continued dozing over the fire, until rousing myself I perceived that +the brands were nearly consumed, and I thought of retiring for the night. +I arose, and was about to enter my tent, when a thought struck me. +“Suppose,” thought I, “that Isopel Berners should +return in the midst of the night, how dark and dreary would the dingle +appear without a fire! truly, I will keep up the fire, and I will do +more; I have no board to spread for her, but I will fill the kettle, +and heat it, so that, if she comes, I may be able to welcome her with +a cup of tea, for I know she loves tea.” Thereupon, I piled +more wood upon the fire, and soon succeeded in procuring a better blaze +than before; then, taking the kettle, I set out for the spring. +On arriving at the mouth of the dingle, which fronted the east, I perceived +that Charles’s wain was nearly opposite to it, high above in the +heavens, by which I knew that the night was tolerably well advanced. +The gypsy encampment lay before me; all was hushed and still within +it, and its inmates appeared to be locked in slumber; as I advanced, +however, the dogs, which were fastened outside the tents, growled and +barked; but presently recognising me, they were again silent, some of +them wagging their tails. As I drew near a particular tent, I +heard a female voice say - “Some one is coming!” and, as +I was about to pass it, the cloth which formed the door was suddenly +lifted up, and a black head and part of a huge naked body protruded. +It was the head and upper part of the giant Tawno, who, according to +the fashion of gypsy men, lay next the door wrapped in his blanket; +the blanket had, however, fallen off, and the starlight shone clear +on his athletic tawny body, and was reflected from his large staring +eyes.<br> +<br> +“It is only I, Tawno,” said I, “going to fill the +kettle, as it is possible that Miss Berners may arrive this night.” +“Kos-ko,” drawled out Tawno, and replaced the curtain. +“Good, do you call it?” said the sharp voice of his wife; +“there is no good in the matter! if that young chap were not living +with the rawnee in the illegal and uncertificated line, he would not +be getting up in the middle of the night to fill her kettles.” +Passing on, I proceeded to the spring, where I filled the kettle, and +then returned to the dingle.<br> +<br> +Placing the kettle upon the fire, I watched it till it began to boil; +then removing it from the top of the brands, I placed it close beside +the fire, and leaving it simmering, I retired to my tent; where, having +taken off my shoes, and a few of my garments, I lay down on my palliasse, +and was not long in falling asleep. I believe I slept soundly +for some time, thinking and dreaming of nothing; suddenly, however, +my sleep became disturbed, and the subject of the patterans began to +occupy my brain. I imagined that I saw Ursula tracing her husband, +Launcelot Lovel, by means of his patterans; I imagined that she had +considerable difficulty in doing so; that she was occasionally interrupted +by parish beadles and constables, who asked her whither she was travelling, +to whom she gave various answers. Presently methought that, as +she was passing by a farm-yard, two fierce and savage dogs flew at her; +I was in great trouble, I remember, and wished to assist her, but could +not, for though I seemed to see her, I was still at a distance: and +now it appeared that she had escaped from the dogs, and was proceeding +with her cart along a gravelly path which traversed a wild moor; I could +hear the wheels grating amidst sand and gravel. The next moment +I was awake, and found myself sitting up in my tent; there was a glimmer +of light through the canvas caused by the fire; a feeling of dread came +over me, which was perhaps natural, on starting suddenly from one’s +sleep in that wild lone place; I half imagined that some one was nigh +the tent; the idea made me rather uncomfortable, and, to dissipate it, +I lifted up the canvas of the door and peeped out, and, lo! I had a +distinct view of a tall figure standing by the tent. “Who +is that?” said I, whilst I felt my blood rush to my heart. +“It is I,” said the voice of Isopel Berners; “you +little expected me, I dare say; well, sleep on, I do not wish to disturb +you.” “But I was expecting you,” said I, recovering +myself, “as you may see by the fire and kettle. I will be +with you in a moment.”<br> +<br> +Putting on in haste the articles of dress which I had flung off, I came +out of the tent, and addressing myself to Isopel, who was standing beside +her cart, I said - “just as I was about to retire to rest I thought +it possible that you might come to-night, and got everything in readiness +for you. Now, sit down by the fire whilst I lead the donkey and +cart to the place where you stay; I will unharness the animal, and presently +come and join you.” “I need not trouble you,” +said Isopel; “I will go myself and see after my things.” +“We will go together,” said I, “and then return and +have some tea.” Isopel made no objection, and in about half-an-hour +we had arranged everything at her quarters, I then hastened and prepared +tea. Presently Isopel rejoined me, bringing her stool; she had +divested herself of her bonnet, and her hair fell over her shoulders; +she sat down, and I poured out the beverage, handing her a cup. +“Have you made a long journey to-night?” said I. “A +very long one,” replied Belle. “I have come nearly +twenty miles since six o’clock.” “I believe +I heard you coming in my sleep,” said I; “did the dogs above +bark at you?” “Yes,” said Isopel, “very +violently; did you think of me in your sleep?” “No,” +said I, “I was thinking of Ursula and something she had told me.” +“When and where was that?” said Isopel. “Yesterday +evening,” said I, “beneath the dingle hedge.” +“Then you were talking with her beneath the hedge?” +“I was,” said I, “but only upon gypsy matters. +Do you know, Belle, that she has just been married to Sylvester, so +that you need not think that she and I - ” “She and +you are quite at liberty to sit where you please,” said Isopel. +“However, young man,” she continued, dropping her tone, +which she had slightly raised, “I believe what you said, that +you were merely talking about gypsy matters, and also what you were +going to say, if it was, as I suppose, that she and you had no particular +acquaintance.” Isopel was now silent for some time. +“What are you thinking of?” said I. “I was thinking,” +said Belle, “how exceedingly kind it was of you to get everything +in readiness for me, though you did not know that I should come.” +“I had a presentiment that you would come,” said I; “but +you forget that I have prepared the kettle for you before, though it +was true that I was then certain that you would come.” “I +had not forgotten your doing so, young man,” said Belle; “but +I was beginning to think that you were utterly selfish, caring for nothing +but the gratification of your own selfish whims.” “I +am very fond of having my own way,” said I, “but utterly +selfish I am not, as I dare say I shall frequently prove to you. +You will often find the kettle boiling when you come home.” +“Not heated by you,” said Isopel, with a sigh. “By +whom else?” said I; “surely you are not thinking of driving +me away?” “You have as much right here as myself,” +said Isopel, “as I have told you before; but I must be going myself.” +“Well,” said I, “we can go together; to tell you the +truth, I am rather tired of this place.” “Our paths +must be separate,” said Belle. “Separate,” said +I, “what do you mean? I shan’t let you go alone, I +shall go with you; and you know the road is as free to me as to you; +besides, you can’t think of parting company with me, considering +how much you would lose by doing so; remember that you know scarcely +anything of the Armenian language; now, to learn Armenian from me would +take you twenty years.”<br> +<br> +Belle faintly smiled. “Come,” said I, “take +another cup of tea.” Belle took another cup of tea, and +yet another; we had some indifferent conversation, after which I arose +and gave her donkey a considerable feed of corn. Belle thanked +me, shook me by the hand, and then went to her own tabernacle, and I +returned to mine.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XIII<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Visit to the Landlord - His Mortifications - Hunter and his Clan - Resolution.<br> +<br> +<br> +On the following morning, after breakfasting with Belle, who was silent +and melancholy, I left her in the dingle, and took a stroll amongst +the neighbouring lanes. After some time I thought I would pay +a visit to the landlord of the public-house, whom I had not seen since +the day when he communicated to me his intention of changing his religion. +I therefore directed my steps to the house, and on entering it found +the landlord standing in the kitchen. Just then two mean-looking +fellows, who had been drinking at one of the tables, and who appeared +to be the only customers in the house, got up, brushed past the landlord, +and saying in a surly tone, we shall pay you some time or other, took +their departure. “That’s the way they serve me now,” +said the landlord, with a sigh. “Do you know those fellows,” +I demanded, “since you let them go away in your debt?” + “I know nothing about them,” said the landlord, “save +that they are a couple of scamps.” “Then why did you +let them go away without paying you?” said I. “I had +not the heart to stop them,” said the landlord; “and, to +tell you the truth, everybody serves me so now, and I suppose they are +right, for a child could flog me.” “Nonsense,” +said I, “behave more like a man, and with respect to those two +fellows run after them, I will go with you, and if they refuse to pay +the reckoning I will help you to shake some money out of their clothes.” +“Thank you,” said the landlord; “but as they are gone, +let them go on. What they have drank is not of much consequence.” +“What is the matter with you?” said I, staring at the landlord, +who appeared strangely altered; his features were wild and haggard, +his formerly bluff cheeks were considerably sunken in, and his figure +had lost much of its plumpness. “Have you changed your religion +already, and has the fellow in black commanded you to fast?” +“I have not changed my religion yet,” said the landlord, +with a kind of shudder; “I am to change it publicly this day fortnight, +and the idea of doing so - I do not mind telling you - preys much upon +my mind; moreover, the noise of the thing has got abroad, and everybody +is laughing at me, and what’s more, coming and drinking my beer, +and going away without paying for it, whilst I feel myself like one +bewitched, wishing but not daring to take my own part. Confound +the fellow in black, I wish I had never seen him! yet what can I do +without him? The brewer swears that unless I pay him fifty pounds +within a fortnight he’ll send a distress warrant into the house, +and take all I have. My poor niece is crying in the room above; +and I am thinking of going into the stable and hanging myself; and perhaps +it’s the best thing I can do, for it’s better to hang myself +before selling my soul than afterwards, as I’m sure I should, +like Judas Iscariot, whom my poor niece, who is somewhat religiously +inclined, has been talking to me about.” “I wish I +could assist you,” said I, “with money, but that is quite +out of my power. However, I can give you a piece of advice. +Don’t change your religion by any means; you can’t hope +to prosper if you do; and if the brewer chooses to deal hardly with +you, let him. Everybody would respect you ten times more provided +you allowed yourself to be turned into the roads rather than change +your religion, than if you got fifty pounds for renouncing it.” +“I am half inclined to take your advice,” said the landlord, +“only, to tell you the truth, I feel quite low, without any heart +in me.” “Come into the bar,” said I, “and +let us have something together - you need not be afraid of my not paying +for what I order.”<br> +<br> +We went into the bar-room, where the landlord and I discussed between +us two bottles of strong ale, which he said were part of the last six +which he had in his possession. At first he wished to drink sherry, +but I begged him to do no such thing, telling him that sherry would +do him no good under the present circumstances; nor, indeed, to the +best of my belief, under any, it being of all wines the one for which +I entertained the most contempt. The landlord allowed himself +to be dissuaded, and, after a glass or two of ale, confessed that sherry +was a sickly, disagreeable drink, and that he had merely been in the +habit of taking it from an idea he had that it was genteel. Whilst +quaffing our beverage, he gave me an account of the various mortifications +to which he had of late been subject, dwelling with particular bitterness +on the conduct of Hunter, who he said came every night and mouthed him, +and afterwards went away without paying for what he had drank or smoked, +in which conduct he was closely imitated by a clan of fellows who constantly +attended him. After spending several hours at the public-house +I departed, not forgetting to pay for the two bottles of ale. +The landlord, before I went, shaking me by the hand, declared that he +had now made up his mind to stick to his religion at all hazards, the +more especially as he was convinced he should derive no good by giving +it up.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XIV<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Preparations for the Fair - The Last Lesson - The Verb Siriel.<br> +<br> +<br> +It might be about five in the evening, when I reached the gypsy encampment. +Here I found Mr. Petulengro, Tawno Chikno, Sylvester, and others in +a great bustle, clipping and trimming certain ponies and old horses +which they had brought with them. On inquiring of Jasper the reason +of their being so engaged, he informed me that they were getting the +horses ready for a fair, which was to be held on the morrow, at a place +some miles distant, at which they should endeavour to dispose of them, +adding - “Perhaps, brother, you will go with us, provided you +have nothing better to do?” Not having any particular engagement, +I assured him that I should have great pleasure in being of the party. +It was agreed that we should start early on the following morning. +Thereupon I descended into the dingle. Belle was sitting before +the fire, at which the kettle was boiling. “Were you waiting +for me?” I inquired. “Yes,” said Belle, “I +thought that you would come, and I waited for you.” “That +was very kind,” said I. “Not half so kind,” +said she, “as it was of you to get everything ready for me in +the dead of last night, when there was scarcely a chance of my coming.” +The tea-things were brought forward, and we sat down. “Have +you been far?” said Belle. “Merely to that public-house,” +said I, “to which you directed me on the second day of our acquaintance.” +“Young men should not make a habit of visiting public-houses,” +said Belle, “they are bad places.” “They may +be so to some people,” said I, “but I do not think the worst +public-house in England could do me any harm.” “Perhaps +you are so bad already,” said Belle, with a smile, “that +it would be impossible to spoil you.” “How dare you +catch at my words?” said I; “come, I will make you pay for +doing so - you shall have this evening the longest lesson in Armenian +which I have yet inflicted upon you.” “You may well +say inflicted,” said Belle, “but pray spare me. I +do not wish to hear anything about Armenian, especially this evening.” +“Why this evening?” said I. Belle made no answer. +“I will not spare you,” said I; “this evening I intend +to make you conjugate an Armenian verb.” “Well, be +it so,” said Belle; “for this evening you shall command.” +“To command is hramahyel,” said I. “Ram her +ill, indeed,” said Belle; “I do not wish to begin with that.” +“No,” said I, “as we have come to the verbs, we will +begin regularly; hramahyel is a verb of the second conjugation. +We will begin with the first.” “First of all tell +me,” said Belle, “what a verb is?” “A +part of speech,” said I, “which, according to the dictionary, +signifies some action or passion; for example, I command you, or I hate +you.” “I have given you no cause to hate me,” +said Belle, looking me sorrowfully in the face.<br> +<br> +“I was merely giving two examples,” said I, “and neither +was directed at you. In those examples, to command and hate are +verbs. Belle, in Armenian there are four conjugations of verbs; +the first ends in al, the second in yel, the third in oul, and the fourth +in il. Now, have you understood me?”<br> +<br> +“I am afraid, indeed, it will all end ill,” said Belle.<br> +<br> +“Hold your tongue,” said I, “or you will make me lose +my patience.” “You have already made me nearly lose +mine,” said Belle. “Let us have no unprofitable interruptions,” +said I; “the conjugations of the Armenian verbs are neither so +numerous nor so difficult as the declensions of the nouns; hear that, +and rejoice. Come, we will begin with the verb hntal, a verb of +the first conjugation, which signifies to rejoice. Come along; +hntam, I rejoice; hntas, thou rejoicest; why don’t you follow, +Belle?”<br> +<br> +“I am sure I don’t rejoice, whatever you may do,” +said Belle. “The chief difficulty, Belle,” said I, +“that I find in teaching you the Armenian grammar, proceeds from +your applying to yourself and me every example I give. Rejoice, +in this instance, is merely an example of an Armenian verb of the first +conjugation, and has no more to do with your rejoicing than lal, which +is, also a verb of the first conjugation, and which signifies to weep, +would have to do with your weeping, provided I made you conjugate it. +Come along; hntam, I rejoice; hntas, thou rejoicest; hntà, he +rejoices; hntamk we rejoice: now, repeat those words.”<br> +<br> +“I can’t,” said Belle, “they sound more like +the language of horses than human beings. Do you take me for - +?” “For what?” said I. Belle was silent. +“Were you going to say mare?” said I. “Mare! +mare! by the bye, do you know, Belle, that mare in old English stands +for woman; and that when we call a female an evil mare, the strict meaning +of the term is merely a bad woman. So if I were to call you a +mare without prefixing bad, you must not be offended.” “But +I should though,” said Belle. “I was merely attempting +to make you acquainted with a philological fact,” said I. +“If mare, which in old English, and likewise in vulgar English, +signifies a woman, sounds the same as mare, which in modern and polite +English signifies a female horse, I can’t help it. There +is no such confusion of sounds in Armenian, not, at least, in the same +instance. Belle, in Armenian, woman is ghin, the same word, by +the by, as our queen, whereas mare is madagh tzi, which signifies a +female horse; and perhaps you will permit me to add, that a hard-mouthed +jade is, in Armenian, madagh tzi hsdierah.”<br> +<br> +“I can’t bear this much longer,” said Belle. +“Keep yourself quiet,” said I; “I wish to be gentle +with you; and to convince you, we will skip hntal, and also for the +present verbs of the first conjugation and proceed to the second. +Belle, I will now select for you to conjugate the prettiest verb in +Armenian; not only of the second, but also of all the four conjugations; +that verb is siriel. Here is the present tense:- siriem, siries, +sirè, siriemk, sirèk, sirien. You observe that it +runs on just in the same manner as hntal, save and except that the e +is substituted for a; and it will be as well to tell you that almost +the only difference between the second, third, and fourth conjugation, +and the first, is the substituting in the present, preterite and other +tenses e or ou, or i for a; so you see that the Armenian verbs are by +no means difficult. Come on, Belle, and say siriem.” +Belle hesitated. “Pray oblige me, Belle, by saying siriem!” +Belle still appeared to hesitate. “You must admit, Belle, +that it is much softer than hntam.” “It is so,” +said Belle; “and to oblige you I will say siriem.” +“Very well indeed, Belle,” said I. “No vartabied, +or doctor, could have pronounced it better; and now, to show you how +verbs act upon pronouns in Armenian, I will say siriem zkiez. +Please to repeat siriem zkiez!” “Siriem zkiez!” +said Belle; “that last word is very hard to say.” +“Sorry that you think so, Belle,” said I. “Now +please to say sirià zis.” Belle did so. “Exceedingly +well,” said I. “Now say, yerani thè sirèir +zis.” “Yerani thè sirèir zis,” +said Belle. “Capital!” said I; “you have now +said, I love you - love me - ah! would that you would love me!”<br> +<br> +“And I have said all these things?” said Belle. “Yes,” +said I; “you have said them in Armenian.” “I +would have said them in no language that I understood,” said Belle; +“and it was very wrong of you to take advantage of my ignorance, +and make me say such things.” “Why so?” said +I; “if you said them, I said them too.” “You +did so,” said Belle; “but I believe you were merely bantering +and jeering.” “As I told you before, Belle,” +said I, “the chief difficulty which I find in teaching you Armenian +proceeds from your persisting in applying to yourself and me every example +I give.” “Then you meant nothing after all,” +said Belle, raising her voice. “Let us proceed,” said +I; “sirietsi, I loved.” “You never loved any +one but yourself,” said Belle; “and what’s more - +” “Sirietsits, I will love,” said I; “sirietsies, +thou wilt love.” “Never one so thoroughly heartless,” +said Belle. “I tell you what, Belle, you are becoming intolerable, +but we will change the verb; or rather I will now proceed to tell you +here, that some of the Armenian conjugations have their anomalies; one +species of these I wish to bring before your notice. As old Villotte +says - from whose work I first contrived to pick up the rudiments of +Armenian - ‘Est verborum transitivorum, quorum infinitivus - ’ +but I forgot, you don’t understand Latin. He says there +are certain transitive verbs, whose infinitive is in outsaniel; the +preterite in outsi; the imperative in one; for example - parghatsout-saniem, +I irritate - ”<br> +<br> +“You do, you do,” said Belle; “and it will be better +for both of us, if you leave off doing so.”<br> +<br> +“You would hardly believe, Belle,” said I, “that the +Armenian is in some respects closely connected with the Irish, but so +it is; for example, that word parghatsout-saniem is evidently derived +from the same root as feargaim, which, in Irish, is as much as to say +I vex.”<br> +<br> +“You do, indeed,” said Belle, sobbing.<br> +<br> +“But how do you account for it?”<br> +<br> +“O man, man!” said Belle, bursting into tears, “for +what purpose do you ask a poor ignorant girl such a question, unless +it be to vex and irritate her? If you wish to display your learning, +do so to the wise and instructed, and not to me, who can scarcely read +or write. Oh, leave off your nonsense; yet I know you will not +do so, for it is the breath of your nostrils! I could have wished +we should have parted in kindness, but you will not permit it. +I have deserved better at your hands than such treatment. The +whole time we have kept company together in this place, I have scarcely +had one kind word from you, but the strangest - ” and here the +voice of Belle was drowned in her sobs.<br> +<br> +“I am sorry to see you take on so, dear Belle,” said I. +“I really have given you no cause to be so unhappy; surely teaching +you a little Armenian was a very innocent kind of diversion.”<br> +<br> +“Yes, but you went on so long, and in such a strange way, and +made me repeat such strange examples, as you call them, that I could +not bear it.”<br> +<br> +“Why, to tell you the truth, Belle, it’s just my way; and +I have dealt with you just as I would with - ”<br> +<br> +“A hard-mouthed jade,” said Belle, “and you practising +your horse-witchery upon her. I have been of an unsubdued spirit, +I acknowledge, but I was always kind to you; and if you have made me +cry, it’s a poor thing to boast of.”<br> +<br> +“Boast of!” said I; “a pretty thing indeed to boast +of; I had no idea of making you cry. Come, I beg your pardon; +what more can I do? Come, cheer up, Belle. You were talking +of parting; don’t let us part, but depart, and that together.”<br> +<br> +“Our ways lie different,” said Belle.<br> +<br> +“I don’t see why they should,” said I. “Come, +let us he off to America together.”<br> +<br> +“To America together?” said Belle, looking full at me.<br> +<br> +“Yes,” said I; “where we will settle down in some +forest, and conjugate the verb siriel conjugally.”<br> +<br> +“Conjugally?” said Belle.<br> +<br> +“Yes,” said I; “as man and wife in America, air yew +ghin.”<br> +<br> +“You are jesting, as usual,” said Belle.<br> +<br> +“Not I, indeed. Come, Belle, make up your mind, and let +us be off to America; and leave priests, humbug, learning, and languages +behind us.”<br> +<br> +“I don’t think you are jesting,” said Belle; “but +I can hardly entertain your offers; however, young man, I thank you.”<br> +<br> +“You had better make up your mind at once,” said I, “and +let us be off. I shan’t make a bad husband, I assure you. +Perhaps you think I am not worthy of you? To convince you, Belle, +that I am, I am ready to try a fall with you this moment upon the grass. +Brynhilda, the valkyrie, swore that no one should ever marry her who +could not fling her down. Perhaps you have done the same. +The man who eventually married her, got a friend of his, who was called +Sygurd, the serpent-killer, to wrestle with her, disguising him in his +own armour. Sygurd flung her down, and won her for his friend, +though he loved her himself. I shall not use a similar deceit, +nor employ Jasper Petulengro to personate me - so get up, Belle, and +I will do my best to fling you down.”<br> +<br> +“I require no such thing of you, or anybody,” said Belle; +“you are beginning to look rather wild.”<br> +<br> +“I every now and then do,” said I; “come, Belle, what +do you say?”<br> +<br> +“I will say nothing at present on the subject,” said Belle, +“I must have time to consider.”<br> +<br> +“Just as you please,” said I, “to-morrow I go to a +fair with Mr. Petulengro, perhaps you will consider whilst I am away. +Come, Belle, let us have some more tea. I wonder whether we shall +be able to procure tea as good as this in the American forest.”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XV<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The Dawn of Day - The Last Farewell - Departure for the Fair - The Fine +Horse - Return to the Dingle - No Isopel.<br> +<br> +<br> +It was about the dawn of day when I was awakened by the voice of Mr. +Petulengro shouting from the top of the dingle, and bidding me get up. +I arose instantly, and dressed myself for the expedition to the fair. +On leaving my tent, I was surprised to observe Belle, entirely dressed, +standing close to her own little encampment. “Dear me,” +said I, “I little expected to find you up so early. I suppose +Jasper’s call awakened you, as it did me.” “I +merely lay down in my things,” said Belle, “and have not +slept during the night.” “And why did you not take +off your things and go to sleep?” said I. “I did not +undress,” said Belle, “because I wished to be in readiness +to bid you farewell when you departed; and as for sleeping, I could +not.” “Well, God bless you!” said I, taking +Belle by the hand. Belle made no answer, and I observed that her +hand was very cold. “What is the matter with you?” +said I, looking her in the face. Belle looked at me for a moment +in the eyes - and then cast down her own - her features were very pale. +“You are really unwell,” said I, “I had better not +go to the fair, but stay here, and take care of you.” “No,” +said Belle, “pray go, I am not unwell.” “Then +go to your tent,” said I, “and do not endanger your health +by standing abroad in the raw morning air. God bless you, Belle. +I shall be home to-night, by which time I expect you will have made +up your mind; if not, another lesson in Armenian, however late the hour +be.” I then wrung Belle’s hand, and ascended to the +plain above.<br> +<br> +I found the Romany party waiting for me, and everything in readiness +for departing. Mr. Petulengro and Tawno Chikno were mounted on +two old horses. The rest, who intended to go to the fair, amongst +whom were two or three women, were on foot. On arriving at the +extremity of the plain, I looked towards the dingle. Isopel Berners +stood at the mouth, the beams of the early morning sun shone full on +her noble face and figure. I waved my hand towards her. +She slowly lifted up her right arm. I turned away, and never saw +Isopel Berners again.<br> +<br> +My companions and myself proceeded on our way. In about two hours +we reached the place where the fair was to be held. After breakfasting +on bread and cheese and ale behind a broken stone wall, we drove our +animals to the fair. The fair was a common cattle and horse fair: +there was little merriment going on, but there was no lack of business. +By about two o’clock in the afternoon, Mr. Petulengro and his +people had disposed of their animals at what they conceived very fair +prices - they were all in high spirits, and Jasper proposed to adjourn +to a public-house. As we were proceeding to one, a very fine horse, +led by a jockey, made its appearance on the ground. Mr. Petulengro +stopped short, and looked at it stedfastly: “Fino covar dove odoy +sas miro - a fine thing were that if it were but mine!” he exclaimed. +“If you covet it,” said I, “why do you not purchase +it?” “We low ‘Gyptians never buy animals of +that description; if we did we could never sell them, and most likely +should be had up as horse-stealers.” “Then why did +you say just now, ‘It were a fine thing if it were but yours?’” +said I. “We ‘Gyptians always say so when we see anything +that we admire. An animal like that is not intended for a little +hare like me, but for some grand gentleman like yourself. I say, +brother, do you buy that horse!” “How should I buy +the horse, you foolish person?” said I. “Buy the horse, +brother,” said Mr. Petulengro, “if you have not the money +I can lend it you, though I be of lower Egypt.” “You +talk nonsense,” said I; “however, I wish you would ask the +man the price of it.” Mr. Petulengro, going up to the jockey, +inquired the price of the horse - the man, looking at him scornfully, +made no reply. “Young man,” said I, going up to the +jockey, “do me the favour to tell me the price of that horse, +as I suppose it is to sell.” The jockey, who was a surly-looking +man, of about fifty, looked at me for a moment, then, after some hesitation, +said, laconically, “Seventy.” “Thank you,” +said I, and turned away. “Buy that horse,” said Mr. +Petulengro, coming after me; “the dook tells me that in less than +three months he will be sold for twice seventy.” “I +will have nothing to do with him,” said I; “besides, Jasper, +I don’t like his tail. Did you observe what a mean scrubby +tail he has?” “What a fool you are, brother,” +said Mr. Petulengro; “that very tail of his shows his breeding. +No good bred horse ever yet carried a fine tail - ‘tis your scrubby-tailed +horses that are your out-and-outers. Did you ever hear of Syntax, +brother? That tail of his puts me in mind of Syntax. Well, +I say nothing more, have your own way - all I wonder at is, that a horse +like him was ever brought to such a fair of dog cattle as this.”<br> +<br> +We then made the best of our way to a public-house, where we had some +refreshment. I then proposed returning to the encampment, but +Mr. Petulengro declined, and remained drinking with his companions till +about six o’clock in the evening, when various jockeys from the +fair came in. After some conversation a jockey proposed a game +of cards; and in a little time, Mr. Petulengro and another gypsy sat +down to play a game of cards with two of the jockeys.<br> +<br> +Though not much acquainted with cards, I soon conceived a suspicion +that the jockeys were cheating Mr. Petulengro and his companion, I therefore +called Mr. Petulengro aside, and gave him a hint to that effect. +Mr. Petulengro, however, instead of thanking me, told me to mind my +own bread and butter, and forthwith returned to his game. I continued +watching the players for some hours. The gypsies lost considerably, +and I saw clearly that the jockeys were cheating them most confoundedly. +I therefore once more called Mr. Petulengro aside, and told him that +the jockeys were cheating him, conjuring him to return to the encampment. +Mr. Petulengro, who was by this time somewhat the worse for liquor, +now fell into a passion, swore several oaths, and asking me who had +made me a Moses over him and his brethren, told me to return to the +encampment by myself. Incensed at the unworthy return which my +well-meant words had received, I forthwith left the house, and having +purchased a few articles of provision, I set out for the dingle alone. +It was a dark night when I reached it, and descending I saw the glimmer +of a fire from the depths of the dingle; my heart beat with fond anticipation +of a welcome. “Isopel Berners is waiting for me,” +said I, “and the first words that I shall hear from her lips is +that she has made up her mind. We shall go to America, and be +so happy together.” On reaching the bottom of the dingle, +however, I saw seated near the fire, beside which stood the kettle simmering, +not Isopel Berners, but a gypsy girl, who told me that Miss Berners +when she went away had charged her to keep up the fire, and have the +kettle boiling against my arrival. Startled at these words, I +inquired at what hour Isopel had left, and whither she was gone, and +was told that she had left the dingle, with her cart, about two hours +after I departed; but where she was gone she, the girl, did not know. +I then asked whether she had left no message, and the girl replied that +she had left none, but had merely given directions about the kettle +and fire, putting, at the same time, six-pence into her hand. +“Very strange,” thought I; then dismissing the gypsy girl +I sat down by the fire. I had no wish for tea, but sat looking +on the embers, wondering what could be the motive of the sudden departure +of Isopel. “Does she mean to return?” thought I to +myself. “Surely she means to return,” Hope replied, +“or she would not have gone away without leaving any message” +- “and yet she could scarcely mean to return,” muttered +Foreboding, “or she assuredly would have left some message with +the girl.” I then thought to myself what a hard thing it +would be, if, after having made up my mind to assume the yoke of matrimony, +I should be disappointed of the woman of my choice. “Well, +after all,” thought I, “I can scarcely be disappointed; +if such an ugly scoundrel as Sylvester had no difficulty in getting +such a nice wife as Ursula, surely I, who am not a tenth part so ugly, +cannot fail to obtain the hand of Isopel Berners, uncommonly fine damsel +though she be. Husbands do not grow upon hedgerows; she is merely +gone after a little business and will return to-morrow.”<br> +<br> +Comforted in some degree by these hopeful imaginings, I retired to my +tent, and went to sleep.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XVI<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Gloomy Forebodings - The Postman’s Mother - The Letter - Bears +and Barons - The Best of Advice.<br> +<br> +<br> +Nothing occurred to me of any particular moment during the following +day. Isopel Berners did not return; but Mr. Petulengro and his +companions came home from the fair early in the morning. When +I saw him, which was about midday, I found him with his face bruised +and swelled. It appeared that, some time after I had left him, +he himself perceived that the jockeys with whom he was playing cards +were cheating him and his companion; a quarrel ensued, which terminated +in a fight between Mr. Petulengro and one of the jockeys, which lasted +some time, and in which Mr. Petulengro, though he eventually came off +victor, was considerably beaten. His bruises, in conjunction with +his pecuniary loss, which amounted to about seven pounds, were the cause +of his being much out of humour; before night, however, he had returned +to his usual philosophic frame of mind, and, coming up to me as I was +walking about, apologized for his behaviour on the preceding day, and +assured me that he was determined, from that time forward, never to +quarrel with a friend for giving him good advice.<br> +<br> +Two more days passed, and still Isopel Berners did not return. +Gloomy thoughts and forebodings filled my mind. During the day +I wandered about the neighbouring roads in the hopes of catching an +early glimpse of her and her returning vehicle; and at night lay awake, +tossing about on my hard couch, listening to the rustle of every leaf, +and occasionally thinking that I heard the sound of her wheels upon +the distant road. Once at midnight, just as I was about to fall +into unconsciousness, I suddenly started up, for I was convinced that +I heard the sound of wheels. I listened most anxiously, and the +sound of wheels striking against stones was certainly plain enough. +“She comes at last,” thought I, and for a few moments I +felt as if a mountain had been removed from my breast; - “here +she comes at last, now, how shall I receive her? Oh,” thought +I, “I will receive her rather coolly, just as if I was not particularly +anxious about her - that’s the way to manage these women.” +The next moment the sound became very loud, rather too loud, I thought, +to proceed from her wheels, and then by degrees became fainter. +Rushing out of my tent, I hurried up the path to the top of the dingle, +where I heard the sound distinctly enough, but it was going from me, +and evidently proceeded from something much larger than the cart of +Isopel. I could, moreover, hear the stamping of a horse’s +hoof at a lumbering trot. Those only whose hopes have been wrought +up to a high pitch, and then suddenly cast down, can imagine what I +felt at that moment; and yet when I returned to my lonely tent, and +lay down on my hard pallet, the voice of conscience told me that the +misery I was then undergoing I had fully merited, for the unkind manner +in which I had intended to receive her, when for a brief moment I supposed +that she had returned.<br> +<br> +It was on the morning after this affair, and the fourth, if I forget +not, from the time of Isopel’s departure, that, as I was seated +on my stone at the bottom of the dingle, getting my breakfast, I heard +an unknown voice from the path above - apparently that of a person descending +- exclaim, “Here’s a strange place to bring a letter to;” +and presently an old woman, with a belt round her middle, to which was +attached a leathern bag, made her appearance, and stood before me.<br> +<br> +“Well, if I ever!” said she, as she looked about her. +“My good gentlewoman,” said I, “pray what may you +please to want?” “Gentlewoman!” said the old +dame, “please to want - well, I call that speaking civilly, at +any rate. It is true, civil words cost nothing; nevertheless, +we do not always get them. What I please to want is to deliver +a letter to a young man in this place; perhaps you be he?” +“What’s the name on the letter?” said I, getting up, +and going to her. “There’s no name upon it,” +said she, taking a letter out of her scrip, and looking at it. +“It is directed to the young man in Mumper’s Dingle.” +“Then it is for me, I make no doubt,” said I, stretching +out my hand to take it. “Please to pay me ninepence first,” +said the old woman. “However,” said she, after a moment’s +thought, “civility is civility, and, being rather a scarce article, +should meet with some return. Here’s the letter, young man, +and I hope you will pay for it; for if you do not I must pay the postage +myself.” “You are the postwoman, I suppose,” +said I, as I took the letter. “I am the postman’s +mother,” said the old woman; “but as he has a wide beat, +I help him as much as I can, and I generally carry letters to places +like this, to which he is afraid to come himself.” “You +say the postage is ninepence,” said I, “here’s a shilling.” +“Well, I call that honourable,” said the old woman, taking +the shilling, and putting it into her pocket - “here’s your +change, young man,” said she, offering me threepence. “Pray +keep that for yourself,” said I; “you deserve it for your +trouble.” “Well, I call that genteel,” said +the old woman; “and as one good turn deserves another, since you +look as if you couldn’t read, I will read your letter for you. +Let’s see it; it’s from some young woman or other, I dare +say.” “Thank you,” said I, “but I can +read.” “All the better for you,” said the old +woman; “your being able to read will frequently save you a penny, +for that’s the charge I generally make for reading letters; though, +as you behaved so genteelly to me, I should have charged you nothing. +Well, if you can read, why don’t you open the letter, instead +of keeping it hanging between your finger and thumb?” “I +am in no hurry to open it,” said I, with a sigh. The old +woman looked at me for a moment - “Well, young man,” said +she, “there are some - especially those who can read - who don’t +like to open their letters when anybody is by, more especially when +they come from young women. Well, I won’t intrude upon you, +but leave you alone with your letter. I wish it may contain something +pleasant. God bless you,” and with these words she departed.<br> +<br> +I sat down on my stone, with my letter in my hand. I knew perfectly +well that it could have come from no other person than Isopel Berners; +but what did the letter contain? I guessed tolerably well what +its purport was - an eternal farewell! yet I was afraid to open the +letter, lest my expectation should be confirmed. There I sat with +the letter, putting off the evil moment as long as possible. At +length I glanced at the direction, which was written in a fine bold +hand, and was directed, as the old woman had said, to the young man +in “Mumpers’ Dingle,” with the addition, near -, in +the county of - Suddenly the idea occurred to me, that, after +all, the letter might not contain an eternal farewell; and that Isopel +might have written, requesting me to join her. Could it be so? +“Alas! no,” presently said Foreboding. At last I became +ashamed of my weakness. The letter must be opened sooner or later. +Why not at once? So as the bather who, for a considerable time, +has stood shivering on the bank, afraid to take the decisive plunge, +suddenly takes it, I tore open the letter almost before I was aware. +I had no sooner done so than a paper fell out. I examined it; +it contained a lock of bright flaxen hair. “This is no good +sign,” said I, as I thrust the lock and paper into my bosom, and +proceeded to read the letter, which ran as follows: -<br> +<br> +<br> +“TO THE YOUNG MAN IN MUMPERS’ DINGLE.<br> +<br> +“SIR, - I send these lines, with the hope and trust that they +will find you well, even as I am myself at this moment, and in much +better spirits, for my own are not such as I could wish they were, being +sometimes rather hysterical and vapourish, and at other times, and most +often, very low. I am at a sea-port, and am just going on shipboard; +and when you get these I shall be on the salt waters, on my way to a +distant country, and leaving my own behind me, which I do not expect +ever to see again.<br> +<br> +“And now, young man, I will, in the first place, say something +about the manner in which I quitted you. It must have seemed somewhat +singular to you that I went away without taking any leave, or giving +you the slightest hint that I was going; but I did not do so without +considerable reflection. I was afraid that I should not be able +to support a leave-taking; and as you had said that you were determined +to go wherever I did, I thought it best not to tell you at all; for +I did not think it advisable that you should go with me, and I wished +to have no dispute.<br> +<br> +“In the second place, I wish to say something about an offer of +wedlock which you made me; perhaps, young man, had you made it at the +first period of our acquaintance, I should have accepted it, but you +did not, and kept putting off and putting off, and behaving in a very +strange manner, till I could stand your conduct no longer, but determined +upon leaving you and Old England, which last step I had been long thinking +about; so when you made your offer at last, everything was arranged +- my cart and donkey engaged to be sold - and the greater part of my +things disposed of. However, young man, when you did make it, +I frankly tell you that I had half a mind to accept it; at last, however, +after very much consideration, I thought it best to leave you for ever, +because, for some time past, I had become almost convinced, that though +with a wonderful deal of learning, and exceedingly shrewd in some things, +you were - pray don’t be offended - at the root mad! and though +mad people, I have been told, sometimes make very good husbands, I was +unwilling that your friends, if you had any, should say that Belle Berners, +the workhouse girl, took advantage of your infirmity; for there is no +concealing that I was born and bred up in a workhouse; notwithstanding +that, my blood is better than your own, and as good as the best; you +having yourself told me that my name is a noble name, and once, if I +mistake not, that it was the same word as baron, which is the same thing +as bear; and that to be called in old times a bear was considered a +great compliment - the bear being a mighty strong animal, on which account +our forefathers called all their great fighting-men barons, which is +the same as bears.<br> +<br> +“However, setting matters of blood and family entirely aside, +many thanks to you, young man, from poor Belle, for the honour you did +her in making that same offer; for, after all, it is an honour to receive +an honourable offer, which she could see clearly yours was, with no +floriness nor chaff in it; but, on the contrary, entire sincerity. +She assures you that she shall always bear it and yourself in mind, +whether on land or water; and as a proof of the good-will she bears +to you, she sends you a lock of the hair which she wears on her head, +which you were often looking at, and were pleased to call flax, which +word she supposes you meant as a compliment, even as the old people +meant to pass a compliment to their great folks, when they called them +bears; though she cannot help thinking that they might have found an +animal as strong as a bear, and somewhat less uncouth, to call their +great folks after: even as she thinks yourself, amongst your great store +of words, might have found something a little more genteel to call her +hair after than flax, which, though strong and useful, is rather a coarse +and common kind of article.<br> +<br> +“And as another proof of the good-will she bears to you, she sends +you, along with the lock, a piece of advice, which is worth all the +hair in the world, to say nothing of the flax.<br> +<br> +“<i>Fear God</i>, and take your own part. There’s +Bible in that, young man: see how Moses feared God, and how he took +his own part against everybody who meddled with him. And see how +David feared God, and took his own part against all the bloody enemies +which surrounded him - so fear God, young man, and never give in! +The world can bully, and is fond, provided it sees a man in a kind of +difficulty, of getting about him, calling him coarse names, and even +going so far as to hustle him: but the world, like all bullies, carries +a white feather in its tail, and no sooner sees the man taking off his +coat, and offering to fight its best, than it scatters here and there, +and is always civil to him afterwards. So when folks are disposed +to ill-treat you, young man, say, ‘Lord have mercy upon me!’ +and then tip them to Long Melford, which, as the saying goes, there +is nothing comparable for shortness all the world over; and these last +words, young man, are the last you will ever have from her who is nevertheless,<br> +<br> +Your affectionate female servant,<br> +<br> +ISOPEL BERNERS.<br> +<br> +<br> +After reading the letter I sat for some time motionless, holding it +in my hand. The daydream in which I had been a little time before +indulging, of marrying Isopel Berners, of going with her to America, +and having by her a large progeny, who were to assist me in felling +trees, cultivating the soil, and who would take care of me when I was +old, was now thoroughly dispelled. Isopel had deserted me, and +was gone to America by herself, where, perhaps, she would marry some +other person, and would bear him a progeny, who would do for him what +in my dream I had hoped my progeny by her would do for me. Then +the thought came into my head that though she was gone, I might follow +her to America, but then I thought that if I did I might not find her; +America was a very large place, and I did not know the port to which +she was bound; but I could follow her to the port from which she had +sailed, and there possibly discover the port to which she was bound; +but I did not even know the port from which she had set out, for Isopel +had not dated her letter from any place. Suddenly it occurred +to me that the post-mark on the letter would tell me from whence it +came, so I forthwith looked at the back of the letter, and in the post-mark +read the name of a well-known and not very distant sea-port. I +then knew with tolerable certainty the port where she had embarked, +and I almost determined to follow her, but I almost instantly determined +to do no such thing. Isopel Berners had abandoned me, and I would +not follow her; “Perhaps,” whispered Pride, “if I +overtook her, she would only despise me for running after her;” +and it also told me pretty roundly, provided I ran after her, whether +I overtook her or not, I should heartily despise myself. So I +determined not to follow Isopel Berners; I took her lock of hair, and +looked at it, then put it in her letter, which I folded up and carefully +stowed away, resolved to keep both for ever, but I determined not to +follow her. Two or three times, however, during the day, I wavered +in my determination, and was again and again almost tempted to follow +her, but every succeeding time the temptation was fainter. In +the evening I left the dingle, and sat down with Mr. Petulengro and +his family by the door of his tent; Mr. Petulengro soon began talking +of the letter which I had received in the morning. “Is it +not from Miss Berners, brother?” said he. I told him it +was. “Is she coming back, brother?” “Never,” +said I; “she is gone to America, and has deserted me.” +“I always knew that you two were never destined for each other,” +said he. “How did you know that?” I inquired. +“The dook told me so, brother; you are born to be a great traveller.” +“Well,” said I, “if I had gone with her to America, +as I was thinking of doing, I should have been a great traveller.” +“You are to travel in another direction, brother,” said +he. “I wish you would tell me all about my future wanderings,” +said I. “I can’t, brother,” said Mr. Petulengro, +“there’s a power of clouds before my eye.” “You +are a poor seer, after all,” said I; and getting up, I retired +to my dingle and my tent, where I betook myself to my bed, and there, +knowing the worst, and being no longer agitated by apprehension, nor +agonized by expectation, I was soon buried in a deep slumber, the first +which I had fallen into for several nights.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XVII<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The Public-house - Landlord on His Legs Again - A Blow in Season - The +Way of the World - The Grateful Mind - The Horse’s Neigh.<br> +<br> +<br> +It was rather late on the following morning when I awoke. At first +I was almost unconscious of what had occurred on the preceding day; +recollection, however, by degrees returned, and I felt a deep melancholy +coming over me, but perfectly aware that no advantage could be derived +from the indulgence of such a feeling, I sprang up, prepared my breakfast, +which I ate with a tolerable appetite, and then left the dingle, and +betook myself to the gypsy encampment, where I entered into discourse +with various Romanies, both male and female. After some time, +feeling myself in better spirits, I determined to pay another visit +to the landlord of the public-house. From the position of his +affairs when I had last visited him I entertained rather gloomy ideas +with respect to his present circumstances. I imagined that I should +either find him alone in his kitchen smoking a wretched pipe, or in +company with some surly bailiff or his follower, whom his friend the +brewer had sent into the house in order to take possession of his effects.<br> +<br> +Nothing more entirely differing from either of these anticipations could +have presented itself to my view than what I saw about one o’clock +in the afternoon, when I entered the house. I had come, though +somewhat in want of consolation myself, to offer any consolation which +was at my command to my acquaintance Catchpole, and perhaps like many +other people who go to a house with “drops of compassion trembling +on their eyelids,” I felt rather disappointed at finding that +no compassion was necessary. The house was thronged with company, +and cries for ale and porter, hot brandy and water, cold gin and water, +were numerous; moreover, no desire to receive and not to pay for the +landlord’s liquids was manifested - on the contrary, everybody +seemed disposed to play the most honourable part: “Landlord, here’s +the money for this glass of brandy and water - do me the favour to take +it; all right, remember I have paid you.” “Landlord, +here’s the money for the pint of half-and-half-fourpence halfpenny, +ain’t it? - here’s sixpence; keep the change - confound +the change!” The landlord, assisted by his niece, bustled +about; his brow erect, his cheeks plumped out, and all his features +exhibiting a kind of surly satisfaction. Wherever he moved, marks +of the most cordial amity were shown him, hands were thrust out to grasp +his, nor were looks of respect, admiration, nay, almost of adoration, +wanting. I observed one fellow, as the landlord advanced, take +the pipe out of his mouth, and gaze upon him with a kind of grin of +wonder, probably much the same as his ancestor, the Saxon lout of old, +put on when he saw his idol Thur, dressed in a new kirtle. To +avoid the press, I got into a corner, where on a couple of chairs sat +two respectable-looking individuals, whether farmers or sow-gelders, +I know not, but highly respectable-looking, who were discoursing about +the landlord. “Such another,” said one, “you +will not find in a summer’s day.” “No, nor in +the whole of England,” said the other. “Tom of Hopton,” +said the first: “ah! Tom of Hopton,” echoed the other; +“the man who could beat Tom of Hopton could beat the world.” +“I glory in him,” said the first. “So do I,” +said the second, “I’ll back him against the world. +Let me hear any one say anything against him, and if I don’t - +” then, looking at me, he added, “have you anything to say +against him, young man?” “Not a word,” said +I, “save that he regularly puts me out.” “He’ll +put any one out,” said the man, “any one out of conceit +with himself;” then, lifting a mug to his mouth, he added, with +a hiccough, “I drink his health.” Presently the landlord, +as he moved about, observing me, stopped short: “Ah!” said +he, “are you here? I am glad to see you, come this way. +Stand back,” said he to his company, as I followed him to the +bar, “stand back for me and this gentleman.” Two or +three young fellows were in the bar, seemingly sporting yokels, drinking +sherry and smoking. “Come, gentlemen,” said the landlord, +“clear the bar, I must have a clear bar for me and my friend here.” +“Landlord, what will you take,” said one, “a glass +of sherry? I know you like it.” “- sherry and +you too,” said the landlord, “I want neither sherry nor +yourself; didn’t you hear what I told you?” “All +right, old fellow,” said the other, shaking the landlord by the +hand, “all right, don’t wish to intrude - but I suppose +when you and your friend have done, I may come in again;” then, +with a “sarvant, sir,” to me, he took himself into the kitchen, +followed by the rest of the sporting yokels.<br> +<br> +Thereupon the landlord, taking a bottle of ale from a basket, uncorked +it, and pouring the contents into two large glasses, handed me one, +and motioning me to sit down, placed himself by me; then, emptying his +own glass at a draught, he gave a kind of grunt of satisfaction, and +fixing his eyes upon the opposite side of the bar, remained motionless, +without saying a word, buried apparently in important cogitations. +With respect to myself, I swallowed my ale more leisurely, and was about +to address my friend, when his niece, coming into the bar, said that +more and more customers were arriving, and how she should supply their +wants she did not know, unless her uncle would get and help her.<br> +<br> +“The customers!” said the landlord, “let the scoundrels +wait till you have time to serve them, or till I have leisure to see +after them.” “The kitchen won’t contain half +of them,” said his niece. “Then let them sit out abroad,” +said the landlord. “But there are not benches enough, uncle,” +said the niece. “Then let them stand or sit on the ground,” +said the uncle, “what care I; I’ll let them know that the +man who beat Tom of Hopton stands as well again on his legs as ever.” +Then opening a side door which led from the bar into the back yard, +he beckoned me to follow him. “You treat your customers +in rather a cavalier manner,” said I, when we were alone together +in the yard.<br> +<br> +“Don’t I?” said the landlord; “and I’ll +treat them more so yet; now I have got the whiphand of the rascals I +intend to keep it. I dare say you are a bit surprised with regard +to the change which has come over things since you were last here. +I’ll tell you how it happened. You remember in what a desperate +condition you found me, thinking of changing my religion, selling my +soul to the man in black, and then going and hanging myself like Pontius +Pilate; and I dare say you can’t have forgotten how you gave me +good advice, made me drink ale, and give up sherry. Well, after +you were gone, I felt all the better for your talk, and what you had +made me drink, and it was a mercy that I did feel better; for my niece +was gone out, poor thing, and I was left alone in the house, without +a soul to look at, or to keep me from doing myself a mischief in case +I was so inclined. Well, things wore on in this way till it grew +dusk, when in came that blackguard Hunter with his train to drink at +my expense, and to insult me as usual; there were more than a dozen +of them, and a pretty set they looked. Well, they ordered about +in a very free and easy manner for upwards of an hour and a half, occasionally +sneering and jeering at me, as they had been in the habit of doing for +some time past; so, as I said before, things wore on, and other customers +came in, who, though they did not belong to Hunter’s gang, also +passed off their jokes upon me; for, as you perhaps know, we English +are a set of low hounds, who will always take part with the many by +way of making ourselves safe, and currying favour with the stronger +side. I said little or nothing, for my spirits had again become +very low, and I was verily scared and afraid. All of a sudden +I thought of the ale which I had drank in the morning, and of the good +it did me then, so I went into the bar, opened another bottle, took +a glass, and felt better; so I took another, and feeling better still, +I went back into the kitchen, just as Hunter and his crew were about +leaving. ‘Mr. Hunter,’ said I, ‘you and your +people will please to pay me for what you have had?’ ‘What +do you mean by my people?’ said he, with an oath. ‘Ah, +what do you mean by calling us his people?’ said the clan. +‘We are nobody’s people;’ and then there was a pretty +load of abuse, and threatening to serve me out. ‘Well,’ +said I, ‘I was perhaps wrong to call them your people, and beg +your pardon and theirs. And now you will please to pay me for +what you have had yourself, and afterwards I can settle with them.’ +‘I shall pay you when I think fit,’ said Hunter. ‘Yes,’ +said the rest, ‘and so shall we. We shall pay you when we +think fit.’ ‘I tell you what,’ said Hunter, +‘I conceives I do such an old fool as you an honour when I comes +into his house and drinks his beer, and goes away without paying for +it;’ and then there was a roar of laughter from everybody, and +almost all said the same thing. ‘Now do you please to pay +me, Mr. Hunter?’ said I. ‘Pay you!’ said Hunter; +‘pay you! Yes, here’s the pay;’ and thereupon +he held out his thumb, twirling it round till it just touched my nose. +I can’t tell you what I felt that moment; a kind of madhouse thrill +came upon me, and all I know is, that I bent back as far as I could, +then lunging out, struck him under the ear, sending him reeling two +or three yards, when he fell on the floor. I wish you had but +seen how my company looked at me and at each other. One or two +of the clan went to raise Hunter, and get him to fight, but it was no +go; though he was not killed, he had had enough for that evening. +Oh, I wish you had seen my customers; those who did not belong to the +clan, but who had taken part with them, and helped to jeer and flout +me, now came and shook me by the hand, wishing me joy, and saying as, +how ‘I was a brave fellow, and had served the bully right!’ +As for the clan, they all said Hunter was bound to do me justice; so +they made him pay me what he owed for himself, and the reckoning of +those among them who said they had no money. Two or three of them +then led him away, while the rest stayed behind, and flattered me, and +worshipped me, and called Hunter all kinds of dogs’ names. +What do you think of that?”<br> +<br> +“Why,” said I, “it makes good what I read in a letter +which I received yesterday. It is just the way of the world.”<br> +<br> +“A’n’t it,” said the landlord. “Well, +that a’n’t all; let me go on. Good fortune never yet +came alone. In about an hour comes home my poor niece, almost +in high sterricks with joy, smiling and sobbing. She had been +to the clergyman of M---, the great preacher, to whose church she was +in the habit of going, and to whose daughters she was well known; and +to him she told a lamentable tale about my distresses, and about the +snares which had been laid for my soul; and so well did she plead my +cause, and so strong did the young ladies back all she said, that the +good clergyman promised to stand my friend, and to lend me sufficient +money to satisfy the brewer, and to get my soul out of the snares of +the man in black; and sure enough the next morning the two young ladies +brought me the fifty pounds, which I forthwith carried to the brewer, +who was monstrously civil, saying that he hoped any little misunderstanding +we had had would not prevent our being good friends in future. +That a’n’t all; the people of the neighbouring county hearing +as if by art witchcraft that I had licked Hunter, and was on good terms +with the brewer, forthwith began to come in crowds to look at me, pay +me homage, and be my customers. Moreover, fifty scoundrels who +owed me money, and would have seen me starve rather than help me as +long as they considered me a down pin, remembered their debts, and came +and paid me more than they owed. That a’n’t all; the +brewer being about to establish a stage-coach and three, to run across +the country, says it shall stop and change horses at my house, and the +passengers breakfast and sup as it goes and returns. He wishes +me - whom he calls the best man in England - to give his son lessons +in boxing, which he says he considers a fine manly English art, and +a great defence against Popery - notwithstanding that only a month ago, +when he considered me a down pin, he was in the habit of railing against +it as a blackguard practice, and against me as a blackguard for following +it; so I am going to commence with young hopeful to-morrow.”<br> +<br> +“I really cannot help congratulating you on your good fortune,” +said I.<br> +<br> +“That a’n’t all,” said the landlord. “This +very morning the folks of our parish made me churchwarden, which they +would no more have done a month ago, when they considered me a down +pin, than they - ”<br> +<br> +“Mercy upon us!” said I, “if fortune pours in upon +you in this manner, who knows but that within a year they may make you +a justice of the peace?”<br> +<br> +“Who knows, indeed!” said the landlord. “Well, +I will prove myself worthy of my good luck by showing the grateful mind +- not to those who would be kind to me now, but to those who were, when +the days were rather gloomy. My customers shall have abundance +of rough language, but I’ll knock any one down who says anything +against the clergyman who lent me the fifty pounds, or against the Church +of England, of which he is parson and I am churchwarden. I am +also ready to do anything in reason for him who paid me for the ale +he drank, when I shouldn’t have had the heart to collar him for +the money had he refused to pay; who never jeered or flouted me like +the rest of my customers when I was a down pin - and though he refused +to fight cross <i>for</i> me was never cross <i>with</i> me, but listened +to all I had to say, and gave me all kinds of good advice. Now +who do you think I mean by this last? why, who but yourself - who on +earth but yourself? The parson is a good man and a great preacher, +and I’ll knock anybody down who says to the contrary; and I mention +him first, because why; he’s a gentleman, and you a tinker. +But I am by no means sure you are not the best friend of the two; for +I doubt, do you see, whether I should have had the fifty pounds but +for you. You persuaded me to give up that silly drink they call +sherry, and drink ale; and what was it but drinking ale which gave me +courage to knock down that fellow Hunter - and knocking him down was, +I verily believe, the turning point of my disorder. God don’t +love them who won’t strike out for themselves; and as far as I +can calculate with respect to time, it was just the moment after I had +knocked down Hunter, that the parson consented to lend me the money, +and everything began to grow civil to me. So, dash my buttons +if I show the ungrateful mind to you! I don’t offer to knock +anybody down for you, because why - I dare say you can knock a body +down yourself; but I’ll offer something more to the purpose; as +my business is wonderfully on the increase, I shall want somebody to +help me in serving my customers, and keeping them in order. If +you choose to come and serve for your board, and what they’ll +give you, give me your fist; or if you like ten shillings a week better +than their sixpences and ha’pence, only say so - though, to be +open with you, I believe you would make twice ten shillings out of them +- the sneaking, fawning, curry-favouring humbugs!”<br> +<br> +“I am much obliged to you,” said I, “for your handsome +offer, which, however, I am obliged to decline.”<br> +<br> +“Why so?” said the landlord.<br> +<br> +“I am not fit for service,” said I; “moreover, I am +about to leave this part of the country.” As I spoke a horse +neighed in the stable. “What horse is that?” said +I.<br> +<br> +“It belongs to a cousin of mine, who put it into my hands yesterday +in the hopes that I might get rid of it for him, though he would no +more have done so a week ago, when he considered me a down pin, than +he would have given the horse away. Are you fond of horses?”<br> +<br> +“Very much,” said I.<br> +<br> +“Then come and look at it.” He led me into the stable, +where, in a stall, stood a noble-looking animal.<br> +<br> +“Dear me,” said I, “I saw this horse at - fair.”<br> +<br> +“Like enough,” said the landlord; “he was there and +was offered for seventy pounds, but didn’t find a bidder at any +price. What do you think of him?”<br> +<br> +“He’s a splendid creature.”<br> +<br> +“I am no judge of horses,” said the landlord; “but +I am told he’s a first-rate trotter, good leaper, and has some +of the blood of Syntax. What does all that signify? - the game +is against his master, who is a down pin, is thinking of emigrating, +and wants money confoundedly. He asked seventy pounds at the fair; +but, between ourselves, he would be glad to take fifty here.”<br> +<br> +“I almost wish,” said I, “that I were a rich squire.”<br> +<br> +“You would buy him then,” said the landlord. Here +he mused for some time, with a very profound look. “It would +be a rum thing,” said he, “if, some time or other, that +horse should come into your hands. Didn’t you hear how he +neighed when you talked about leaving the country? My granny was +a wise woman, and was up to all kinds of signs and wonders, sounds and +noises, the interpretation of the language of birds and animals, crowing +and lowing, neighing and braying. If she had been here, she would +have said at once that that horse was fated to carry you away. +On that point, however, I can say nothing, for under fifty pounds no +one can have him. Are you taking that money out of your pocket +to pay me for the ale? That won’t do; nothing to pay; I +invited you this time. Now if you are going, you had best get +into the road through the yard-gate. I won’t trouble you +to make your way through the kitchen and my fine-weather company - confound +them!”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XVIII<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Mr. Petulengro’s Device - The Leathern Purse - Consent to +Purchase a Horse.<br> +<br> +<br> +As I returned along the road I met Mr. Petulengro and one of his companions, +who told me that they were bound for the public-house; whereupon I informed +Jasper how I had seen in the stable the horse which we had admired at +the fair. “I shouldn’t wonder if you buy that horse +after all, brother,” said Mr. Petulengro. With a smile at +the absurdity of such a supposition, I left him and his companion, and +betook myself to the dingle. In the evening I received a visit +from Mr. Petulengro, who forthwith commenced talking about the horse, +which he had again seen, the landlord having shown it to him on learning +that he was a friend of mine. He told me that the horse pleased +him more than ever, he having examined his points with more accuracy +than he had an opportunity of doing on the first occasion, concluding +by pressing me to buy him. I begged him to desist from such foolish +importunity, assuring him that I had never so much money in all my life +as would enable me to purchase the horse. Whilst this discourse +was going on, Mr. Petulengro and myself were standing together in the +midst of the dingle. Suddenly he began to move round me - in a +very singular manner, making strange motions with his hands, and frightful +contortions with his features, till I became alarmed, and asked him +whether he had not lost his senses? Whereupon, ceasing his movements +and contortions, he assured me that he had not, but had merely been +seized with a slight dizziness, and then once more returned to the subject +of the horse. Feeling myself very angry, I told him that if he +continued persecuting me in that manner, I should be obliged to quarrel +with him; adding, that I believed his only motive for asking me to buy +the animal was to insult my poverty. “Pretty poverty,” +said he, “with fifty pounds in your pocket; however, I have heard +say that it is always the custom of your rich people to talk of their +poverty, more especially when they wish to avoid laying out money.” +Surprised at his saying that I had fifty pounds in my pocket, I asked +him what he meant; whereupon he told me that he was very sure that I +had fifty pounds in my pocket, offering to lay me five shillings to +that effect. “Done!” said I; “I have scarcely +more than the fifth part of what you say.” “I know +better, brother,” said Mr. Petulengro; “if you only pull +out what you have in the pocket of your slop, I am sure you will have +lost your wager.” Putting my hand into the pocket, I felt +something which I had never felt there before, and pulling it out, perceived +that it was a clumsy leathern purse, which I found on opening contained +four ten-pound-notes, and several pieces of gold. “Didn’t +I tell you so, brother?” said Mr. Petulengro. “Now, +in the first place, please to pay me the five shillings you have lost.” +“This is only a foolish piece of pleasantry,” said I; “you +put it into my pocket whilst you were moving about me, making faces +like a distracted person. Here, take your purse back.” +“I?” said Mr. Petulengro, “not I, indeed I don’t +think I am such a fool. I have won my wager, so pay me the five +shillings, brother.” “Do drop this folly,” said +I, “and take your purse;” and I flung it on the ground. +“Brother,” said Mr. Petulengro, “you were talking +of quarrelling with me just now. I tell you now one thing, which +is, that if you do not take back the purse I will quarrel with you; +and it shall be for good and all. I’ll drop your acquaintance, +no longer call you my pal, and not even say sarshan to you when I meet +you by the roadside. Hir mi diblis I never will.” +I saw by Jasper’s look and tone that he was in earnest, and, as +I had really a regard for the strange being, I scarcely knew what to +do. “Now, be persuaded, brother,” said Mr. Petulengro, +taking up the purse, and handing it to me; “be persuaded; put +the purse into your pocket, and buy the horse.” “Well,” +said I, “if I did so, would you acknowledge the horse to be yours, +and receive the money again as soon as I should be able to repay you?”<br> +<br> +“I would, brother, I would,” said he; “return me the +money as soon as you please, provided you buy the horse.” +“What motive have you for wishing me to buy that horse?” +said I. “He’s to be sold for fifty pounds,” +said Jasper, “and is worth four times that sum; though, like many +a splendid bargain, he is now going a begging; buy him, and I’m +confident that, in a little time, a grand gentleman of your appearance +may have anything he asks for him, and found a fortune by his means. +Moreover, brother, I want to dispose of this fifty pounds in a safe +manner. If you don’t take it, I shall fool it away in no +time, perhaps at card-playing, for you saw how I was cheated by those +blackguard jockeys the other day - we gyptians don’t know how +to take care of money: our best plan when we have got a handful of guineas +is to make buttons with them; but I have plenty of golden buttons, and +don’t wish to be troubled with more, so you can do me no greater +favour than vesting the money in this speculation, by which my mind +will be relieved of considerable care and trouble for some time at least.”<br> +<br> +Perceiving that I still hesitated, he said, “Perhaps, brother, +you think I did not come honestly by the money: by the honestest manner +in the world, for it is the money I earnt by fighting in the ring: I +did not steal it, brother, nor did I get it by disposing of spavined +donkeys, or glandered ponies - nor is it, brother, the profits of my +wife’s witchcraft and dukkerin.”<br> +<br> +“But,” said I, “you had better employ it in your traffic.” +“I have plenty of money for my traffic, independent of this capital,” +said Mr. Petulengro; “ay, brother, and enough besides to back +the husband of my wife’s sister, Sylvester, against Slammocks +of the Chong gav for twenty pounds, which I am thinking of doing.”<br> +<br> +“But,” said I, “after all, the horse may have found +another purchaser by this time.” “Not he,” said +Mr. Petulengro, “there is nobody in this neighbourhood to purchase +a horse like that, unless it be your lordship - so take the money, brother,” +and he thrust the purse into my hand. Allowing myself to be persuaded, +I kept possession of the purse. “Are you satisfied now?” +said I. “By no means, brother,” said Mr. Petulengro, +“you will please to pay me the five shillings which you lost to +me.” “Why,” said I, “the fifty pounds +which I found in my pocket were not mine, but put in by yourself.” +“That’s nothing to do with the matter, brother,” said +Mr. Petulengro, “I betted you five shillings that you had fifty +pounds in your pocket, which sum you had: I did not say that they were +your own, but merely that you had fifty pounds; you will therefore pay +me, brother, or I shall not consider you an honourable man.” +Not wishing to have any dispute about such a matter, I took five shillings +out of my under pocket, and gave them to him. Mr. Petulengro took +the money with great glee, observing - “These five shillings I +will take to the public-house forthwith, and spend in drinking with +four of my brethren, and doing so will give me an opportunity of telling +the landlord that I have found a customer for his horse, and that you +are the man. It will be as well to secure the horse as soon as +possible; for though the dook tells me that the horse is intended for +you, I have now and then found that the dock is, like myself, somewhat +given to lying.”<br> +<br> +He then departed, and I remained alone in the dingle. I thought +at first that I had committed a great piece of folly in consenting to +purchase this horse; I might find no desirable purchaser for him, until +the money in my possession should be totally exhausted, and then I might +be compelled to sell him for half the price I had given for him, or +be even glad to find a person who would receive him at a gift; I should +then remain sans horse, and indebted to Mr. Petulengro. Nevertheless, +it was possible that I might sell the horse very advantageously, and +by so doing obtain a fund sufficient to enable me to execute some grand +enterprise or other. My present way of life afforded no prospect +of support, whereas the purchase of the horse did afford a possibility +of bettering my condition, so, after all, had I not done right in consenting +to purchase the horse? the purchase was to be made with another person’s +property, it is true, and I did not exactly like the idea of speculating +with another person’s property, but Mr. Petulengro had thrust +his money upon me, and if I lost his money, he could have no one but +himself to blame; so I persuaded myself that I had, upon the whole, +done right, and having come to that persuasion, I soon began to enjoy +the idea of finding myself on horseback again, and figured to myself +all kinds of strange adventures which I should meet with on the roads +before the horse and I should part company.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XIX<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Trying the Horse - The Feats of Tawno - Man with the Red Waist-coat +- Disposal of Property.<br> +<br> +<br> +I saw nothing more of Mr. Petulengro that evening - on the morrow, however, +he came and informed me that he had secured the horse for me, and that +I was to go and pay for it at noon. At the hour appointed, therefore, +I went with Mr. Petulengro and Tawno to the public, where, as before, +there was a crowd of company. The landlord received us in the +bar with marks of much satisfaction and esteem, made us sit down, and +treated us with some excellent mild draught ale. “Who do +you think has been here this morning?” he said to me, “why, +that fellow in black, who came to carry me off to a house of Popish +devotion, where I was to pass seven days and nights in meditation, as +I think he called it, before I publicly renounced the religion of my +country. I read him a pretty lecture, calling him several unhandsome +names, and asking him what he meant by attempting to seduce a church-warden +of the Church of England. I tell you what, he ran some danger; +for some of my customers, learning his errand, laid hold on him, and +were about to toss him in a blanket, and then duck him in the horse-pond. +I, however, interfered, and said, ‘that what he came about was +between me and him, and that it was no business of theirs.’ +To tell you the truth, I felt pity for the poor devil, more especially +when I considered that they merely sided against him because they thought +him the weakest, and that they would have wanted to serve me in the +same manner had they considered me a down pin; so I rescued him from +their hands, told him not to be afraid, for that nobody should touch +him, and offered to treat him to some cold gin and water with a lump +of sugar in it; and on his refusing, told him that he had better make +himself scarce, which he did, and I hope I shall never see him again. +So I suppose you are come for the horse; mercy upon us! who would have +thought you would have become the purchaser? The horse, however, +seemed to know it by his neighing. How did you ever come by the +money? however, that’s no matter of mine. I suppose you +are strongly backed by certain friends you have.”<br> +<br> +I informed the landlord that he was right in supposing that I came for +the horse, but that, before I paid for him, I should wish to prove his +capabilities. “With all my heart,” said the landlord. +“You shall mount him this moment.” Then going into +the stable, he saddled and bridled the horse, and presently brought +him out before the door. I mounted him, Mr. Petulengro putting +a heavy whip into my hand, and saying a few words to me in his own mysterious +language. “The horse wants no whip,” said the landlord. +“Hold your tongue, daddy,” said Mr. Petulengro. “My +pal knows quite well what to do with the whip, he’s not going +to beat the horse with it.” About four hundred yards from +the house there was a hill, to the foot of which the road ran almost +on a perfect level; towards the foot of this hill I trotted the horse, +who set off at a long, swift pace, seemingly at the rate of about sixteen +miles an hour. On reaching the foot of the hill, I wheeled the +animal round, and trotted him towards the house - the horse sped faster +than before. Ere he had advanced a hundred yards, I took off my +hat, in obedience to the advice which Mr. Petulengro had given me, in +his own language, and holding it over the horse’s head commenced +drumming on the crown with the knob of the whip; the horse gave a slight +start, but instantly recovering himself, continued his trot till he +arrived at the door of the public-house, amidst the acclamations of +the company, who had all rushed out of the house to be spectators of +what was going on. “I see now what you wanted the whip for,” +said the landlord, “and sure enough, that drumming on your hat +was no bad way of learning whether the horse was quiet or not. +Well, did you ever see a more quiet horse, or a better trotter?” +“My cob shall trot against him,” said a fellow, dressed +in velveteen, mounted on a low powerful-looking animal. “My +cob shall trot against him to the hill and back again - come on!” +We both started; the cob kept up gallantly against the horse for about +half way to the hill, when he began to lose ground; at the foot of the +hill he was about fifteen yards behind. Whereupon I turned slowly +and waited for him. We then set off towards the house, but now +the cob had no chance, being at least twenty yards behind when I reached +the door. This running of the horse, the wild uncouth forms around +me, and the ale and beer which were being guzzled from pots and flagons, +put me wonderfully in mind of the ancient horse-races of the heathen +north. I almost imagined myself Gunnar of Hlitharend at the race +of -<br> +<br> +“Are you satisfied?” said the landlord. “Didn’t +you tell me that he could leap?” I demanded. “I am +told he can,” said the landlord; “but I can’t consent +that he should be tried in that way, as he might be damaged.” +“That’s right!” said Mr. Petulengro, “don’t +trust my pal to leap that horse, he’ll merely fling him down, +and break his neck and his own. There’s a better man than +he close by; let him get on his back and leap him.” “You +mean yourself, I suppose,” said the landlord. “Well, +I call that talking modestly, and nothing becomes a young man more than +modesty.” “It a’n’t I, daddy,” said +Mr. Petulengro. “Here’s the man,” said he, pointing +to Tawno. “Here’s the horse-leaper of the world!” +“You mean the horse-back breaker,” said the landlord. +“That big fellow would break down my cousin’s horse.” +“Why, he weighs only sixteen stone,” said Mr. Petulengro. +“And his sixteen stone, with his way of handling a horse, does +not press so much as any other one’s thirteen. Only let +him get on the horse’s back, and you’ll see what he can +do!” “No,” said the landlord, “it won’t +do.” Whereupon Mr. Petulengro became very much excited; and pulling +out a handful of money, said, “I’ll tell you what, I’ll +forfeit these guineas, if my black pal there does the horse any kind +of damage; duck me in the horse-pond if I don’t.” +“Well,” said the landlord, “for the sport of the thing +I consent, so let your white pal get down, and our black pal mount as +soon as he pleases.” I felt rather mortified at Mr. Petulengro’s +interference; and showed no disposition to quit my seat; whereupon he +came up to me and said, “Now, brother, do get out of the saddle +- you are no bad hand at trotting, I am willing to acknowledge that; +but at leaping a horse there is no one like Tawno. Let every dog +be praised for his own gift. You have been showing off in your +line for the last half-hour; now do give Tawno a chance of exhibiting +a little; poor fellow, he hasn’t often a chance of exhibiting, +as his wife keeps him so much out of sight.” Not wishing +to appear desirous of engrossing the public attention, and feeling rather +desirous to see how Tawno, of whose exploits in leaping horses I had +frequently heard, would acquit himself in the affair, I at length dismounted, +and Tawno, at a bound, leaped into the saddle, where he really looked +like Gunnar of Hlitharend, save and except the complexion of Gunnar +was florid, whereas that of Tawno was of nearly Mulatto darkness; and +that all Tawno’s features were cast in the Grecian model, whereas +Gunnar had a snub nose. “There’s a leaping-bar behind +the house,” said the landlord. “Leaping-bar!” +said Mr. Petulengro, scornfully. “Do you think my black +pal ever rides at a leaping-bar? No more than a windle-straw. +Leap over that meadow-wall, Tawno.” Just past the house, +in the direction in which I had been trotting, was a wall about four +feet high, beyond which was a small meadow. Tawno rode the horse +gently up to the wall, permitted him to look over, then backed him for +about ten yards, and pressing his calves against the horse’s sides, +he loosed the rein, and the horse launching forward, took the leap in +gallant style. “Well done, man and horse!” said Mr. +Petulengro, “now come back, Tawno.” The leap from +the side of the meadow was, however, somewhat higher; and the horse, +when pushed at it, at first turned away; whereupon Tawno backed him +to a greater distance, pushed the horse to a full gallop, giving a wild +cry; whereupon the horse again took the wall, slightly grazing one of +his legs against it. “A near thing,” said the landlord; +“but a good leap. Now, no more leaping, so long as I have +control over the animal.” The horse was then led back to +the stable; and the landlord, myself and companions going into the bar, +I paid down the money for the horse.<br> +<br> +Scarcely was the bargain concluded, when two or three of the company +began to envy me the possession of the horse, and forcing their way +into the bar, with much noise and clamour, said that the horse had been +sold too cheap. One fellow, in particular, with a red waistcoat, +the son of a wealthy farmer, said that if he had but known that the +horse had been so good a one, he would have bought it at the first price +asked for it, which he was now willing to pay, that is to-morrow, supposing +- “supposing your father will let you have the money,” said +the landlord, “which, after all, might not be the case; but, however +that may be, it is too late now. I think myself the horse has +been sold for too little money, but if so all the better for the young +man, who came forward when no other body did with his money in his hand. +There, take yourselves out of my bar,” he said to the fellows; +“and a pretty scoundrel you,” said he to the man of the +red waistcoat, “to say the horse has been sold too cheap; why, +it was only yesterday you said he was good for nothing, and were passing +all kinds of jokes at him. Take yourself out of my bar, I say, +you and all of you,” and he turned the fellows out. I then +asked the landlord whether he would permit the horse to remain in the +stable for a short time, provided I paid for his entertainment; and +on his willingly consenting, I treated my friends with ale, and then +returned with them to the encampment.<br> +<br> +That evening I informed Mr. Petulengro and his party that on the morrow +I intended to mount my horse, and leave that part of the country in +quest of adventures; inquiring of Jasper where, in the event of my selling +the horse advantageously, I might meet with him, and repay the money +I had borrowed of him; whereupon Mr. Petulengro informed me that in +about ten weeks I might find him at a certain place at the Chong gav. +I then stated that as I could not well carry with me the property which +I possessed in the dingle, which after all was of no considerable value, +I had resolved to bestow the said property, namely, the pony, tent, +tinker-tools, etc., on Ursula and her husband, partly because they were +poor, and partly on account of the great kindness which I bore to Ursula, +from whom I had, on various occasions, experienced all manner of civility, +particularly in regard to crabbed words. On hearing this intelligence, +Ursula returned many thanks to her gentle brother, as she called me, +and Sylvester was so overjoyed that, casting aside his usual phlegm, +he said I was the best friend he had ever had in the world, and in testimony +of his gratitude swore that he would permit his wife to give me a choomer +in the presence of the whole company, which offer, however, met with +a very mortifying reception, the company frowning disapprobation, Ursula +protesting against anything of the kind, and I myself showing no forwardness +to avail myself of it, having inherited from nature a considerable fund +of modesty, to which was added no slight store acquired in the course +of my Irish education. I passed that night alone in the dingle +in a very melancholy manner, with little or no sleep, thinking of Isopel +Berners; and in the morning when I quitted it I shed several tears, +as I reflected that I should probably never again see the spot where +I had passed so many hours in her company.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XX<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Farewell to the Romans - The Landlord and His Niece - Set Out as a Traveller.<br> +<br> +<br> +On reaching the plain above, I found my Romany friends breakfasting, +and on being asked by Mr. Petulengro to join them, I accepted the invitation. +No sooner was breakfast over than I informed Ursula and her husband +that they would find the property, which I had promised them, in the +dingle, commanding the little pony Ambrol to their best care. +I took leave of the whole company, which was itself about to break up +camp and to depart in the direction of London, and made the best of +my way to the public-house. I had a small bundle in my hand, and +was dressed in the same manner as when I departed from London, having +left my waggoner’s slop with the other effects in the dingle. +On arriving at the public-house, I informed the landlord that I was +come for my horse, inquiring, at the same time, whether he could not +accommodate me with a bridle and saddle. He told me that the bridle +and saddle, with which I had ridden the horse on the preceding day, +were at my service for a trifle; that he had received them some time +since in payment for a debt, and that he had himself no use for them. +The leathers of the bridle were rather shabby, and the bit rusty, and +the saddle was old fashioned; but I was happy to purchase them for seven +shillings, more especially as the landlord added a small valise, which +he said could be strapped to the saddle, and which I should find very +convenient for carrying my things in. I then proceeded to the +stable, told the horse we were bound on an expedition, and giving him +a feed of corn, left him to discuss it, and returned to the bar-room +to have a little farewell chat with the landlord, and at the same time +to drink with him a farewell glass of ale. Whilst we were talking +and drinking, the niece came and joined us: she was a decent, sensible +young woman, who appeared to take a great interest in her uncle, whom +she regarded with a singular mixture of pride and, disapprobation - +pride for the renown which he had acquired by his feats of old, and +disapprobation for his late imprudences. She said that she hoped +that his misfortunes would be a warning to him to turn more to his God +than he had hitherto done, and to give up cock-fighting and other low-life +practices. To which the landlord replied, that with respect to +cock-fighting he intended to give it up entirely, being determined no +longer to risk his capital upon birds, and with respect to his religious +duties, he should attend the church of which he was churchwarden at +least once a quarter, adding, however, that he did not intend to become +either canter or driveller, neither of which characters would befit +a publican surrounded by such customers as he was, and that to the last +day of his life he hoped to be able to make use of his fists. +After a stay of about two hours I settled accounts, and having bridled +and saddled my horse, and strapped on my valise, I mounted, shook hands +with the landlord and his niece, and departed, notwithstanding that +they both entreated me to tarry until the evening, it being then the +heat of the day.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXI<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +An Adventure on the Road - The Six Flint Stone - A Rural Scene - Mead +- The Old Man and His Bees.<br> +<br> +<br> +I bent my course in the direction of the north, more induced by chance +than any particular motive; all quarters of the world having about equal +attractions for me. I was in high spirits at finding myself once +more on horse-back, and trotted gaily on, until the heat of the weather +induced me to slacken my pace, more out of pity for my horse than because +I felt any particular inconvenience from it - heat and cold being then, +and still, matters of great indifference to me. What I thought +of I scarcely know, save and except that I have a glimmering recollection +that I felt some desire to meet with one of those adventures which upon +the roads of England are generally as plentiful as blackberries in autumn; +and Fortune, who has generally been ready to gratify my inclinations, +provided it cost her very little by so doing, was not slow in furnishing +me with an adventure, perhaps as characteristic of the English roads +as anything which could have happened.<br> +<br> +I might have travelled about six miles amongst cross roads and lanes, +when suddenly I found myself upon a broad and very dusty road which +seemed to lead due north. As I wended along this I saw a man upon +a donkey riding towards me. The man was commonly dressed, with +a broad felt hat on his head, and a kind of satchel on his back; he +seemed to be in a mighty hurry, and was every now and then belabouring +the donkey with a cudgel. The donkey, however, which was a fine +large creature of the silver-grey species, did not appear to sympathize +at all with its rider in his desire to get on, but kept its head turned +back as much as possible, moving from one side of the road to the other, +and not making much forward way. As I passed, being naturally +of a very polite disposition, I gave the man the sele of the day, asking +him, at the same time, why he beat the donkey; whereupon the fellow +eyeing me askance, told me to mind my own business, with the addition +of something which I need not repeat. I had not proceeded a furlong +before I saw seated on the dust by the wayside, close by a heap of stones, +and with several flints before him, a respectable-looking old man, with +a straw hat and a white smock, who was weeping bitterly.<br> +<br> +“What are you crying for, father?” said I. “Have +you come to any hurt?” “Hurt enough,” sobbed +the old man, “I have just been tricked out of the best ass in +England by a villain, who gave me nothing but these trash in return,” +pointing to the stones before him. “I really scarcely understand +you,” said I, “I wish you would explain yourself more clearly.” +“I was riding on my ass from market,” said the old man, +“when I met here a fellow with a sack on his back, who, after +staring at the ass and me a moment or two, asked me if I would sell +her. I told him that I could not think of selling her, as she +was very useful to me, and though an animal, my true companion, whom +I loved as much as if she were my wife and daughter. I then attempted +to pass on, but the fellow stood before me, begging me to sell her, +saying that he would give me anything for her; well, seeing that he +persisted, I said at last that if I sold her, I must have six pounds +for her, and I said so to get rid of him, for I saw that he was a shabby +fellow, who had probably not six shillings in the world; but I had better +have held my tongue,” said the old man, crying more bitterly than +before, “for the words were scarcely out of my mouth, when he +said he would give me what I asked, and taking the sack from his back, +he pulled out a steelyard, and going to the heap of stones there, he +took up several of them and weighed them, then flinging them down before +me, he said, ‘There are six pounds, neighbour; now, get off the +ass, and hand her over to me.’ Well, I sat like one dumbfoundered +for a time, till at last I asked him what he meant? ‘What +do I mean?’ said he, ‘you old rascal, why, I mean to claim +my purchase,’ and then he swore so awfully, that scarcely knowing +what I did I got down, and he jumped on the animal and rode off as fast +as he could.” “I suppose he was the fellow,” +said I, “whom I just now met upon a fine gray ass, which he was +beating with a cudgel.” “I dare say he was,” +said the old man, “I saw him beating her as he rode away, and +I thought I should have died.” “I never heard such +a story,” said I; “well, do you mean to submit to such a +piece of roguery quietly?” “Oh, dear,” said +the old man, “what can I do? I am seventy-nine years of +age; I am bad on my feet, and dar’n’t go after him.” +- “Shall I go?” said I; “the fellow is a thief, and +any one has a right to stop him.” “Oh, if you could +but bring her again to me,” said the old man, “I would bless +you till my dying day; but have a care; I don’t know but after +all the law may say that she is his lawful purchase. I asked six +pounds for her, and he gave me six pounds.” “Six flints, +you mean,” said I, “no, no, the law is not quite so bad +as that either; I know something about her, and am sure that she will +never sanction such a quibble. At all events, I’ll ride +after the fellow.” Thereupon turning my horse round, I put +him to his very best trot; I rode nearly a mile without obtaining a +glimpse of the fellow, and was becoming apprehensive that he had escaped +me by turning down some by-path, two or three of which I had passed. +Suddenly, however, on the road making a slight turning, I perceived +him right before me, moving at a tolerably swift pace, having by this +time probably overcome the resistance of the animal. Putting my +horse to a full gallop, I shouted at the top of my voice, “Get +off that donkey, you rascal, and give her up to me, or I’ll ride +you down.” The fellow hearing the thunder of the horse’s +hoofs behind him, drew up on one side of the road. “What +do you want?” said he, as I stopped my charger, now almost covered +with sweat and foam close beside him. “Do you want to rob +me?” “To rob you?” said I. “No! +but to take from you that ass, of which you have just robbed its owner.” +“I have robbed no man,” said the fellow; “I just now +purchased it fairly of its master, and the law will give it to me; he +asked six pounds for it, and I gave him six pounds.” “Six +stones, you mean, you rascal,” said I; “get down, or my +horse shall be upon you in a moment;” then with a motion of my +reins, I caused the horse to rear, pressing his sides with my heels +as if I intended to make him leap. “Stop,” said the +man, “I’ll get down, and then try if I can’t serve +you out.” He then got down, and confronted me with his cudgel; +he was a horrible-looking fellow, and seemed prepared for anything. +Scarcely, however, had he dismounted, when the donkey jerked the bridle +out of his hand, and probably in revenge for the usage she had received, +gave him a pair of tremendous kicks on the hip with her hinder legs, +which overturned him, and then scampered down the road the way she had +come. “Pretty treatment this,” said the fellow, getting +up without his cudgel, and holding his hand to his side, “I wish +I may not be lamed for life.” “And if you be,” +said I, “it will merely serve you right, you rascal, for trying +to cheat a poor old man out of his property by quibbling at words.” +“Rascal!” said the fellow, “you lie, I am no rascal; +and as for quibbling with words - suppose I did! What then? +All the first people does it! The newspapers does it! the gentlefolks +that calls themselves the guides of the popular mind does it! +I’m no ignoramus. I read the newspapers, and knows what’s +what.” “You read them to some purpose,” said +I. “Well, if you are lamed for life, and unfitted for any +active line - turn newspaper editor; I should say you are perfectly +qualified, and this day’s adventure may be the foundation of your +fortune,” thereupon I turned round and rode off. The fellow +followed me with a torrent of abuse. “Confound you,” +said he - yet that was not the expression either - “I know you; +you are one of the horse-patrol come down into the country on leave +to see your relations. Confound you, you and the like of you have +knocked my business on the head near Lunnon, and I suppose we shall +have you shortly in the country.” “To the newspaper +office,” said I, “and fabricate falsehoods out of flint +stones;” then touching the horse with my heels, I trotted off, +and coming to the place where I had seen the old man, I found him there, +risen from the ground, and embracing his ass.<br> +<br> +I told him that I was travelling down the road, and said, that if his +way lay in the same direction as mine he could do no better than accompany +me for some distance, lest the fellow who, for aught I knew, might be +hovering nigh, might catch him alone, and again get his ass from him. +After thanking me for my offer, which he said he would accept, he got +upon his ass, and we proceeded together down the road. My new +acquaintance said very little of his own accord; and when I asked him +a question, answered rather incoherently. I heard him every now +and then say, “Villain!” to himself, after which he would +pat the donkey’s neck, from which circumstance I concluded that +his mind was occupied with his late adventure. After travelling +about two miles, we reached a place where a drift-way on the right led +from the great road; here my companion stopped, and on my asking him +whether he was going any farther, he told me that the path to the right +was the way to his home.<br> +<br> +I was bidding him farewell, when he hemmed once or twice, and said, +that as he did not live far off, he hoped that I would go with him and +taste some of his mead. As I had never tasted mead, of which I +had frequently read in the compositions of the Welsh bards, and, moreover, +felt rather thirsty from the heat of the day, I told him that I should +have great pleasure in attending him. Whereupon, turning off together, +we proceeded about half a mile, sometimes between stone walls, and at +other times hedges, till we reached a small hamlet, through which we +passed, and presently came to a very pretty cottage, delightfully situated +within a garden, surrounded by a hedge of woodbines. Opening a +gate at one corner of the garden he led the way to a large shed, which +stood partly behind the cottage, which he said was his stable; thereupon +he dismounted and led his donkey into the shed, which was without stalls, +but had a long rack and manger. On one side he tied his donkey, +after taking off her caparisons, and I followed his example, tying my +horse at the other side with a rope halter which he gave me; he then +asked me to come in and taste his mead, but I told him that I must attend +to the comfort of my horse first, and forthwith, taking a wisp of straw, +rubbed him carefully down. Then taking a pailful of clear water +which stood in the shed, I allowed the horse to drink about half a pint; +and then turning to the old man, who all the time had stood by looking +at my proceedings, I asked him whether he had any oats? “I +have all kinds of grain,” he replied; and, going out, he presently +returned with two measures, one a large and the other a small one, both +filled with oats, mixed with a few beans, and handing the large one +to me for the horse, he emptied the other before the donkey, who, before +she began to despatch it, turned her nose to her master’s face, +and fairly kissed him. Having given my horse his portion, I told +the old man that I was ready to taste his mead as soon as he pleased, +whereupon he ushered me into his cottage, where, making me sit down +by a deal table in a neatly sanded kitchen, he produced from an old-fashioned +closet a bottle, holding about a quart, and a couple of cups, which +might each contain about half a pint, then opening the bottle and filling +the cups with a brown-coloured liquor, he handed one to me, and taking +a seat opposite to me, he lifted the other, nodded, and saying to me +- “Health and welcome,” placed it to his lips and drank.<br> +<br> +“Health and thanks,” I replied; and being very thirsty, +emptied my cup at a draught; I had scarcely done so, however, when I +half repented. The mead was deliciously sweet and mellow, but +appeared strong as brandy; my eyes reeled in my head, and my brain became +slightly dizzy. “Mead is a strong drink,” said the +old man, as he looked at me, with a half smile on his countenance. +“This is at any rate,” said I, “so strong, indeed, +that I would not drink another cup for any consideration.” +“And I would not ask you,” said the old man; “for, +if you did, you would most probably be stupid all day, and wake the +next morning with a headache. Mead is a good drink, but woundily +strong, especially to those who be not used to it, as I suppose you +are not.” “Where do you get it?” said I. +“I make it myself,” said the old man, “from the honey +which my bees make.” “Have you many bees?” I +inquired. “A great many,” said the old man. +“And do you keep them,” said I, “for the sake of making +mead with their honey?” “I keep them,” he replied, +“partly because I am fond of them, and partly for what they bring +me in; they make me a great deal of honey, some of which I sell, and +with a little I make some mead to warm my poor heart with, or occasionally +to treat a friend with like yourself.” “And do you +support yourself entirely by means of your bees?” “No,” +said the old man; “I have a little bit of ground behind my house, +which is my principal means of support.” “And do you +live alone?” “Yes,” said he; “with the +exception of the bees and the donkey, I live quite alone.” +“And have you always lived alone?” The old man emptied +his cup, and his heart being warmed with the mead, he told his history, +which was simplicity itself. His father was a small yeoman, who, +at his death, had left him, his only child, the cottage, with a small +piece of ground behind it, and on this little property he had lived +ever since. About the age of twenty-five he had married an industrious +young woman, by whom he had one daughter, who died before reaching years +of womanhood. His wife, however, had survived her daughter many +years, and had been a great comfort to him, assisting him in his rural +occupations; but, about four years before the present period, he had +lost her, since which time he had lived alone, making himself as comfortable +as he could; cultivating his ground, with the help of a lad from the +neighbouring village, attending to his bees, and occasionally riding +his donkey to market, and hearing the word of God, which he said he +was sorry he could not read, twice a week regularly at the parish church. +Such was the old man’s tale.<br> +<br> +When he had finished speaking, he led me behind his house, and showed +me his little domain. It consisted of about two acres in admirable +cultivation; a small portion of it formed a kitchen garden, while the +rest was sown with four kinds of grain, wheat, barley, peas, and beans. +The air was full of ambrosial sweets, resembling those proceeding from +an orange grove; a place which though I had never seen at that time, +I since have. In the garden was the habitation of the bees, a +long box, supported upon three oaken stumps. It was full of small +round glass windows, and appeared to be divided into a great many compartments, +much resembling drawers placed sideways. He told me that, as one +compartment was filled, the bees left it for another; so that, whenever +he wanted honey, he could procure some without injury to the insects. +Through the little round windows I could see several of the bees at +work; hundreds were going in and out of the doors; hundreds were buzzing +about on the flowers, the woodbines, and beans. As I looked around +on the well-cultivated field, the garden, and the bees, I thought I +had never before seen so rural and peaceful a scene.<br> +<br> +When we returned to the cottage we again sat down, and I asked the old +man whether he was not afraid to live alone. He told me that he +was not, for that, upon the whole, his neighbours were very kind to +him. I mentioned the fellow who had swindled him of his donkey +upon the road. “That was no neighbour of mine,” said +the old man, “and, perhaps, I shall never see him again, or his +like.” “It’s a dreadful thing,” said I, +“to have no other resource, when injured, than to shed tears on +the road.” “It is so,” said the old man; “but +God saw the tears of the old, and sent a helper.” “Why +did you not help yourself?” said I. “Instead of getting +off your ass, why did you not punch at the fellow, or at any rate use +dreadful language, call him villain, and shout robbery?” +“Punch!” said the old man, “shout! what, with these +hands, and this voice - Lord, how you run on! I am old, young +chap, I am old!” “Well,” said I, “it is +a shameful thing to cry even when old.” “You think +so now,” said the old man, “because you are young and strong; +perhaps when you are as old as I, you will not be ashamed to cry.”<br> +<br> +Upon the whole I was rather pleased with the old man, and much with +all about him. As evening drew nigh, I told him that I must proceed +on my journey; whereupon he invited me to tarry with him during the +night, telling me that he had a nice room and bed above at my service. +I, however, declined; and bidding him farewell, mounted my horse, and +departed. Regaining the road, I proceeded once more in the direction +of the north; and, after a few hours, coming to a comfortable public-house, +I stopped, and put up for the night.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXII<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The Singular Noise - Sleeping in a Meadow - The Book - Cure for Wakefulness +- Literary Tea Party - Poor Byron.<br> +<br> +<br> +I did not awake till rather late the next morning; and when I did, I +felt considerable drowsiness, with a slight headache, which I was uncharitable +enough to attribute to the mead which I had drunk on the preceding day. +After feeding my horse, and breakfasting, I proceeded on my wanderings. +Nothing occurred worthy of relating till mid-day was considerably past, +when I came to a pleasant valley, between two gentle hills. I +had dismounted, in order to ease my horse, and was leading him along +by the bridle, when, on my right, behind a bank in which some umbrageous +ashes were growing, heard a singular noise. I stopped short and +listened, and presently said to myself, “Surely this is snoring, +perhaps that of a hedgehog.” On further consideration, however, +I was convinced that the noise which I heard, and which certainly seemed +to be snoring, could not possibly proceed from the nostrils of so small +an animal, but must rather come from those of a giant, so loud and sonorous +was it. About two or three yards farther was a gate, partly open, +to which I went, and peeping into the field, saw a man lying on some +rich grass, under the shade of one of the ashes; he was snoring away +at a great rate. Impelled by curiosity, I fastened the bridle +of my horse to the gate, and went up to the man. He was a genteelly-dressed +individual; rather corpulent, with dark features, and seemingly about +forty-five. He lay on his back, his hat slightly over his brow, +and at his right hand lay an open book. So strenuously did he +snore that the wind from his nostrils agitated, perceptibly, a fine +cambric frill which he wore at his bosom. I gazed upon him for +some time, expecting that he might awake; but he did not, but kept on +snoring, his breast heaving convulsively. At last, the noise he +made became so terrible, that I felt alarmed for his safety, imagining +that a fit might seize him, and he lose his life while fast asleep. +I therefore exclaimed, “Sir, sir, awake! you sleep over-much.” +But my voice failed to rouse him, and he continued snoring as before; +whereupon I touched him slightly with my riding wand, but failing to +wake him, I touched him again more vigorously; whereupon he opened his +eyes, and, probably imagining himself in a dream, closed them again. +But I was determined to arouse him, and cried as loud as I could, “Sir, +sir, pray sleep no more!” He heard what I said, opened his +eyes again, stared at me with a look of some consciousness, and, half +raising himself upon his elbows, asked me what was the matter. +“I beg your pardon,” said I, “but I took the liberty +of awaking you, because you appeared to be much disturbed in your sleep +- I was fearful, too, that you might catch a fever from sleeping under +a tree.” “I run no risk,” said the man, “I +often come and sleep here; and as for being disturbed in my sleep, I +felt very comfortable; I wish you had not awoke me.” “Well,” +said I, “I beg your pardon once more. I assure you that +what I did was with the best intention.” “Oh! pray +make no further apology,” said the individual, “I make no +doubt that what you did was done kindly; but there’s an old proverb, +to the effect, ‘that you should let sleeping dogs lie,’” +he added with a smile. Then, getting up, and stretching himself +with a yawn, he took up his book and said, “I have slept quite +long enough, and it’s quite time for me to be going home.” +“Excuse my curiosity,” said I, “if I inquire what +may induce you to come and sleep in this meadow?” “To +tell you the truth,” answered he, “I am a bad sleeper.” +“Pray pardon me,” said I, “if I tell you that I never +saw one sleep more heartily.” “If I did so,” +said the individual, “I am beholden to this meadow and this book; +but I am talking riddles, and will explain myself. I am the owner +of a very pretty property, of which this valley forms part. Some +years ago, however, up started a person who said the property was his; +a lawsuit ensued, and I was on the brink of losing my all, when, most +unexpectedly, the suit was determined in my favour. Owing, however, +to the anxiety to which my mind had been subjected for several years, +my nerves had become terribly shaken; and no sooner was the trial terminated +than sleep forsook my pillow. I sometimes passed nights without +closing an eye; I took opiates, but they rather increased than alleviated +my malady. About three weeks ago a friend of mine put this book +into my hand, and advised me to take it every day to some pleasant part +of my estate, and try and read a page or two, assuring me, if I did, +that I should infallibly fall asleep. I took his advice, and selecting +this place, which I considered the pleasantest part of my property, +I came, and lying down, commenced reading the book, and before finishing +a page was in a dead slumber. Every day since then I have repeated +the experiment, and every time with equal success. I am a single +man, without any children; and yesterday I made my will, in which, in +the event of my friend’s surviving me, I have left him all my +fortune, in gratitude for his having procured for me the most invaluable +of all blessings - sleep.”<br> +<br> +“Dear me,” said I, “how very extraordinary! +Do you think that your going to sleep is caused by the meadow or the +book?” “I suppose by both,” said my new acquaintance, +“acting in co-operation.” “It may be so,” +said I; “the magic influence does certainly not proceed from the +meadow alone; for since I have been here, I have not felt the slightest +inclination to sleep. Does the book consist of prose or poetry?” +“It consists of poetry,” said the individual. “Not +Byron’s?” said I. “Byron’s!” repeated +the individual, with a smile of contempt; “no, no; there is nothing +narcotic in Byron’s poetry. I don’t like it. +I used to read it, but it thrilled, agitated, and kept me awake. +No; this is not Byron’s poetry, but the inimitable -‘s” +- mentioning a name which I had never heard till then. “Will +you permit me to look at it?” said I. “With pleasure,” +he answered, politely handing me the book. I took the volume, +and glanced over the contents. It was written in blank verse, +and appeared to abound in descriptions of scenery; there was much mention +of mountains, valleys, streams, and waterfalls, harebells and daffodils. +These descriptions were interspersed with dialogues, which, though they +proceeded from the mouths of pedlars and rustics, were of the most edifying +description; mostly on subjects moral or metaphysical, and couched in +the most gentlemanly and unexceptionable language, without the slightest +mixture of vulgarity, coarseness, or pie-bald grammar. Such appeared +to me to be the contents of the book; but before I could form a very +clear idea of them, I found myself nodding, and a surprising desire +to sleep coming over me. Rousing myself, however, by a strong +effort, I closed the book, and, returning it to the owner, inquired +of him, “Whether he had any motive in coming and lying down in +the meadow, besides the wish of enjoying sleep?” “None +whatever,” he replied; “indeed, I should be very glad not +to be compelled to do so, always provided I could enjoy the blessing +of sleep; for by lying down under trees, I may possibly catch the rheumatism, +or be stung by serpents; and, moreover, in the rainy season and winter +the thing will be impossible, unless I erect a tent, which will possibly +destroy the charm.” “Well,” said I, “you +need give yourself no further trouble about coming here, as I am fully +convinced that with this book in your hand, you may go to sleep anywhere, +as your friend was doubtless aware, though he wished to interest your +imagination for a time by persuading you to lie abroad; therefore, in +future, whenever you feel disposed to sleep, try to read the book, and +you will be sound asleep in a minute; the narcotic influence lies in +the book, and not in the field.” “I will follow your +advice,” said the individual; “and this very night take +it with me to bed; though I hope in time to be able to sleep without +it, my nerves being already much quieted from the slumbers I have enjoyed +in this field.” He then moved towards the gate, where we +parted; he going one way, and I and my horse the other.<br> +<br> +More than twenty years subsequent to this period, after much wandering +about the world, returning to my native country, I was invited to a +literary tea-party, where, the discourse turning upon poetry, I, in +order to show that I was not more ignorant than my neighbours, began +to talk about Byron, for whose writings I really entertained considerable +admiration, though I had no particular esteem for the man himself. +At first, I received no answer to what I said - the company merely surveying +me with a kind of sleepy stare. At length a lady, about the age +of forty, with a large wart on her face, observed, in a drawling tone, +“That she had not read Byron - at least, since her girlhood - +and then only a few passages; but that the impression on her mind was, +that his writings were of a highly objectionable character.” +“I also read a little of him in my boyhood,” said a gentleman +about sixty, but who evidently, from his dress and demeanour, wished +to appear about thirty, “but I highly disapproved of him; for, +notwithstanding he was a nobleman, he is frequently very coarse, and +very fond of raising emotion. Now emotion is what I dislike;” +drawling out the last syllable of the word dislike. “There +is only one poet for me - the divine - ” and then he mentioned +a name which I had only once heard, and afterwards quite forgotten; +the same mentioned by the snorer in the field. “Ah! there +is no one like him!” murmured some more of the company; “the +poet of nature - of nature without its vulgarity.” I wished +very much to ask these people whether they were ever bad sleepers, and +whether they had read the poet, so called, from a desire of being set +to sleep. Within a few days, however, I learnt that it had of +late become very fashionable and genteel to appear half asleep, and +that one could exhibit no better mark of superfine breeding than by +occasionally in company setting one’s rhomal organ in action. +I then ceased to wonder at the popularity, which I found nearly universal, +of -‘s poetry; for, certainly in order to make one’s self +appear sleepy in company, or occasionally to induce sleep, nothing could +be more efficacious than a slight prelection of his poems. So +poor Byron, with his fire and emotion - to say nothing of his mouthings +and coxcombry - was dethroned, as I prophesied he would be more than +twenty years before, on the day of his funeral, though I had little +idea that his humiliation would have been brought about by one, whose +sole strength consists in setting people to sleep. Well, all things +are doomed to terminate in sleep. Before that termination, however, +I will venture to prophesy that people will become a little more awake +- snoring and yawning be a little less in fashion - and poor Byron be +once more reinstated on his throne, though his rival will always stand +a good chance of being worshipped by those whose ruined nerves are insensible +to the narcotic powers of opium and morphine.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXIII<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Drivers and Front Outside Passengers - Fatigue of Body and Mind - Unexpected +Greeting - My Inn - The Governor - Engagement.<br> +<br> +<br> +I continued my journey, passing through one or two villages. The +day was exceedingly hot, and the roads dusty. In order to cause +my horse as little fatigue as possible, and not to chafe his back, I +led him by the bridle, my doing which brought upon me a shower of remarks, +jests, and would-be witticisms from the drivers and front outside passengers +of sundry stage-coaches which passed me in one direction or the other. +In this way I proceeded till considerably past noon, when I felt myself +very fatigued, and my horse appeared no less so; and it is probable +that the lazy and listless manner in which we were moving on, tired +us both much more effectually than hurrying along at a swift trot would +have done, for I have observed that when the energies of the body are +not exerted a languor frequently comes over it. At length arriving +at a very large building with an archway, near the entrance of a town, +I sat down on what appeared to be a stepping-block, and presently experienced +a great depression of spirits. I began to ask myself whither I +was going, and what I should do with myself and the horse which I held +by the bridle? It appeared to me that I was alone in the world +with the poor animal, who looked for support to me, who knew not how +to support myself. Then the image of Isopel Berners came into +my mind, and when I thought how I had lost her for ever, and how happy +I might have been with her in the New World had she not deserted me, +I became yet more miserable.<br> +<br> +As I sat in this state of mind, I suddenly felt some one clap me on +the shoulder, and heard a voice say, “Ha! comrade of the dingle, +what chance has brought you into these parts?” I turned +round, and beheld a man in the dress of a postillion, whom I instantly +recognized as he to whom I had rendered assistance on the night of the +storm.<br> +<br> +“Ah!” said I, “is it you? I am glad to see you, +for I was feeling very lonely and melancholy.”<br> +<br> +“Lonely and melancholy,” he replied, “how is that? +how can any one be lonely and melancholy with such a noble horse as +that you hold by the bridle?”<br> +<br> +“The horse,” said I, “is one cause of my melancholy, +for I know not in the world what to do with it.”<br> +<br> +“It is your own?”<br> +<br> +“Yes,” said I, “I may call it my own, though I borrowed +the money to purchase it.”<br> +<br> +“Well, why don’t you sell it?”<br> +<br> +“It is not always easy to find a purchaser for a horse like this,” +said I; “can you recommend me one?”<br> +<br> +“I? Why no, not exactly; but you’ll find a purchaser +shortly - pooh! if you have no other cause for disquiet than that horse, +cheer up, man, don’t be cast down. Have you nothing else +on your mind? By the bye, what’s become of the young woman +you were keeping company with in that queer lodging place of yours?”<br> +<br> +“She has left me,” said I.<br> +<br> +“You quarrelled, I suppose?”<br> +<br> +“No,” said I, “we did not exactly quarrel, but we +are parted.”<br> +<br> +“Well,” replied he, “but you will soon come together +again.”<br> +<br> +“No,” said I, “we are parted for ever.”<br> +<br> +“For ever! Pooh! you little know how people sometimes come +together again who think they are parted for ever. Here’s +something on that point relating to myself. You remember, when +I told you my story in that dingle of yours, that I mentioned a young +woman, my fellow-servant when I lived with the English family in Mumbo +Jumbo’s town, and how she and I, when our foolish governors were +thinking of changing their religion, agreed to stand by each other, +and be true to old Church of England, and to give our governors warning, +provided they tried to make us renegades. Well, she and I parted +soon after that, and never to meet again, yet we met the other day in +the fields, for she lately came to live with a great family not far +from here, and we have since agreed to marry, to take a little farm, +for we have both a trifle of money, and live together till ‘death +us do part.’ So much for parting for ever! But what +do I mean by keeping you broiling in the sun with your horse’s +bridle in your hand, and you on my own ground? Do you know where +you are? Why, that great house is my inn, that is, it’s +my master’s, the best fellow in -. Come along, you and your +horse both will find a welcome at my inn.”<br> +<br> +Thereupon he led the way into a large court in which there were coaches, +chaises, and a great many people; taking my horse from me, he led it +into a nice cool stall, and fastened it to the rack - he then conducted +me into a postillion’s keeping-room, which at that time chanced +to be empty, and he then fetched a pot of beer and sat down by me.<br> +<br> +After a little conversation he asked me what I intended to do, and I +told him frankly that I did not know; whereupon he observed that, provided +I had no objection, he had little doubt that I could be accommodated +for some time at his inn. “Our upper ostler,” said +he, “died about a week ago; he was a clever fellow, and, besides +his trade, understood reading and accounts.”<br> +<br> +“Dear me,” said I, interrupting him, “I am not fitted +for the place of ostler - moreover, I refused the place of ostler at +a public-house, which was offered to me only a few days ago.” +The postillion burst into a laugh. “Ostler at a public-house, +indeed! why, you would not compare a berth at a place like that with +the situation of ostler at my inn, the first road-house in England! +However, I was not thinking of the place of ostler for you; you are, +as you say, not fitted for it, at any rate, not at a house like this. +We have, moreover, the best under-ostler in all England - old Bill, +with the drawback that he is rather fond of drink. We could make +shift with him very well, provided we could fall in with a man of writing +and figures, who could give an account of the hay and corn which comes +in and goes out, and wouldn’t object to give a look occasionally +at the yard. Now it appears to me that you are just such a kind +of man, and, if you will allow me to speak to the governor, I don’t +doubt that he will gladly take you, as he feels kindly disposed towards +you from what he has heard me say concerning you.”<br> +<br> +“And what should I do with my horse?” said I.<br> +<br> +“The horse need give you no uneasiness,” said the postillion; +“I know he will be welcome here both for bed and manger, and, +perhaps, in a little time you may find a purchaser, as a vast number +of sporting people frequent this house.” I offered two or +three more objections, which the postillion overcame with great force +of argument, and the pot being nearly empty, he drained it to the bottom +drop, and then starting up, left me alone.<br> +<br> +In about twenty minutes he returned, accompanied by a highly intelligent-looking +individual, dressed in blue and black, with a particularly white cravat, +and without a hat on his head: this individual, whom I should have mistaken +for a gentleman but for the intelligence depicted in his face, he introduced +to me as the master of the inn. The master of the inn shook me +warmly by the hand, told me that he was happy to see me in his house, +and thanked me in the handsomest terms for the kindness I had shown +to his servant in the affair of the thunderstorm. Then saying +that he was informed I was out of employ, he assured me that he should +be most happy to engage me to keep his hay and corn account, and as +general superintendent of the yard, and that with respect to the horse, +which he was told I had, he begged to inform me that I was perfectly +at liberty to keep it at the inn upon the very best, until I could find +a purchaser, - that with regard to wages - but he had no sooner mentioned +wages than I cut him short, saying, that provided I stayed I should +be most happy to serve him for bed and board, and requested that he +would allow me until the next morning to consider of his offer; he willingly +consented to my request, and, begging that I would call for anything +I pleased, left me alone with the postillion.<br> +<br> +I passed that night until about ten o’clock with the postillion, +when he left me, having to drive a family about ten miles across the +country; before his departure, however, I told him that I had determined +to accept the offer of his governor, as he called him. At the +bottom of my heart I was most happy that an offer had been made, which +secured to myself and the animal a comfortable retreat at a moment when +I knew not whither in the world to take myself and him.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXIV<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +An Inn of Times gone by - A First-rate Publican - Hay and Corn - Old-fashioned +Ostler - Highwaymen - Mounted Police - Grooming.<br> +<br> +<br> +The inn, of which I had become an inhabitant, was a place of infinite +life and bustle. Travellers of all descriptions, from all the +cardinal points, were continually stopping at it; and to attend to their +wants, and minister to their convenience, an army of servants, of one +description or other, was kept; waiters, chambermaids, grooms, postillions, +shoe-blacks, cooks, scullions, and what not, for there was a barber +and hair-dresser, who had been at Paris, and talked French with a cockney +accent; the French sounding all the better, as no accent is so melodious +as the cockney. Jacks creaked in the kitchens turning round spits, +on which large joints of meat piped and smoked before great big fires. +There was running up and down stairs, and along galleries, slamming +of doors, cries of “Coming, sir,” and “Please to step +this way, ma’am,” during eighteen hours of the four-and-twenty. +Truly a very great place for life and bustle was this inn. And +often in after life, when lonely and melancholy, I have called up the +time I spent there, and never failed to become cheerful from the recollection.<br> +<br> +I found the master of the house a very kind and civil person. +Before being an inn-keeper he had been in some other line of business; +but on the death of the former proprietor of the inn had married his +widow, who was still alive, but, being somewhat infirm, lived in a retired +part of the house. I have said that he was kind and civil; he +was, however, not one of those people who suffer themselves to be made +fools of by anybody; he knew his customers, and had a calm, clear eye, +which would look through a man without seeming to do so. The accommodation +of his house was of the very best description; his wines were good, +his viands equally so, and his charges not immoderate; though he very +properly took care of himself. He was no vulgar inn-keeper, had +a host of friends, and deserved them all. During the time I lived +with him, he was presented by a large assemblage of his friends and +customers with a dinner at his own house, which was very costly, and +at which the best of wines were sported, and after the dinner with a +piece of plate estimated at fifty guineas. He received the plate, +made a neat speech of thanks, and when the bill was called for, made +another neat speech, in which he refused to receive one farthing for +the entertainment, ordering in at the same time two dozen more of the +best champagne, and sitting down amidst uproarious applause, and cries +of “You shall be no loser by it!” Nothing very wonderful +in such conduct, some people will say; I don’t say there is, nor +have I any intention to endeavour to persuade the reader that the landlord +was a Carlo Boromeo; he merely gave a quid pro quo; but it is not every +person who will give you a quid pro quo. Had he been a vulgar +publican, he would have sent in a swinging bill after receiving the +plate; “but then no vulgar publican would have been presented +with plate;” perhaps not, but many a vulgar public character has +been presented with plate, whose admirers never received a quid pro +quo, except in the shape of a swinging bill.<br> +<br> +I found my duties of distributing hay and corn, and keeping an account +thereof, anything but disagreeable, particularly after I had acquired +the good-will of the old ostler, who at first looked upon me with rather +an evil eye, considering me somewhat in the light of one who had usurped +an office which belonged to himself by the right of succession; but +there was little gall in the old fellow, and, by speaking kindly to +him, never giving myself any airs of assumption; but, above all, by +frequently reading the newspapers to him - for though passionately fond +of news and politics, he was unable to read - I soon succeeded in placing +myself on excellent terms with him. A regular character was that +old ostler; he was a Yorkshireman by birth, but had seen a great deal +of life in the vicinity of London, to which, on the death of his parents, +who were very poor people, he went at a very early age. Amongst +other places where he had served as ostler was a small inn at Hounslow, +much frequented by highwaymen, whose exploits he was fond of narrating, +especially those of Jerry Abershaw, who, he said, was a capital rider; +and on hearing his accounts of that worthy, I half regretted that the +old fellow had not been in London, and I had not formed his acquaintance +about the time I was thinking of writing the life of the said Abershaw, +not doubting that with his assistance, I could have produced a book +at least as remarkable as the life and adventures of that entirely imaginary +personage Joseph Sell; perhaps, however, I was mistaken; and whenever +Abershaw’s life shall appear before the public - and my publisher +credibly informs me that it has not yet appeared - I beg and entreat +the public to state which it likes best, the life of Abershaw, or that +of Sell, for which latter work I am informed that during the last few +months there has been a prodigious demand. My old friend, however, +after talking of Abershaw, would frequently add, that, good rider as +Abershaw certainly was, he was decidedly inferior to Richard Ferguson, +generally called Galloping Dick, who was a pal of Abershaw’s, +and had enjoyed a career as long, and nearly as remarkable as his own. +I learned from him that both were capital customers at the Hounslow +inn, and that he had frequently drank with them in the corn-room. +He said that no man could desire more jolly or entertaining companions +over a glass of “summut;” but that upon the road it was +anything but desirable to meet them; there they were terrible, cursing +and swearing, and thrusting the muzzles of their pistols into people’s +mouths; and at this part of his locution the old man winked, and said, +in a somewhat lower voice, that upon the whole they were right in doing +so, and that when a person had once made up his mind to become a highwayman, +his best policy was to go the whole hog, fearing nothing, but making +everybody afraid of him; that people never thought of resisting a savage-faced, +foul-mouthed highwayman, and if he were taken, were afraid to bear witness +against him, lest he should get off and cut their throats some time +or other upon the roads; whereas people would resist being robbed by +a sneaking, pale-visaged rascal, and would swear bodily against him +on the first opportunity, - adding, that Abershaw and Ferguson, two +most awful fellows, had enjoyed a long career, whereas two disbanded +officers of the army, who wished to rob a coach like gentlemen, had +begged the passengers’ pardon, and talked of hard necessity, had +been set upon by the passengers themselves, amongst whom were three +women, pulled from their horses, conducted to Maidstone, and hanged +with as little pity as such contemptible fellows deserved. “There +is nothing like going the whole hog,” he repeated, “and +if ever I had been a highwayman, I would have done so; I should have +thought myself all the more safe; and, moreover, shouldn’t have +despised myself. To curry favour with those you are robbing, sometimes +at the expense of your own comrades, as I have known fellows do, why, +it is the greatest - ”<br> +<br> +“So it is,” interposed my friend the postillion, who chanced +to be present at a considerable part of the old ostler’s discourse; +“it is, as you say, the greatest of humbug, and merely, after +all, gets a fellow into trouble; but no regular bred highwayman would +do it. I say, George, catch the Pope of Rome trying to curry favour +with anybody he robs; catch old Mumbo Jumbo currying favour with the +Archbishop of Canterbury and the Dean and Chapter, should he meet them +in a stage-coach; it would be with him, Bricconi Abbasso, as he knocked +their teeth out with the butt of his trombone; and the old regular-built +ruffian would be all the safer for it, as Bill would say, as ten to +one the Archbishop and Chapter, after such a spice of his quality, would +be afraid to swear against him, and to hang him, even if he were in +their power, though that would be the proper way; for, if it is the +greatest of all humbug for a highwayman to curry favour with those he +robs, the next greatest is to try to curry favour with a highwayman +when you have got him, by letting him off.”<br> +<br> +Finding the old man so well acquainted with the history of highwaymen, +and taking considerable interest in the subject, having myself edited +a book containing the lives of many remarkable people who had figured +on the highway, I forthwith asked him how it was that the trade of highwaymen +had become extinct in England, as at present we never heard of any one +following it. Whereupon he told me that many causes had contributed +to bring about that result; the principal of which were the following:- +the refusal to license houses which were known to afford shelter to +highwaymen, which, amongst many others, had caused the inn at Hounslow +to be closed; the inclosure of many a wild heath in the country, on +which they were in the habit of lurking, and particularly the establishing +in the neighbourhood of London of a well-armed mounted patrol, who rode +the highwaymen down, and delivered them up to justice, which hanged +them without ceremony.<br> +<br> +“And that would be the way to deal with Mumbo Jumbo and his gang,” +said the postillion, “should they show their visages in these +realms; and I hear by the newspapers that they are becoming every day +more desperate. Take away the license from their public-houses, +cut down the rookeries and shadowy old avenues in which they are fond +of lying in wait, in order to sally out upon people as they pass in +the roads; but, above all, establish a good mounted police to ride after +the ruffians and drag them by the scruff of the neck to the next clink, +where they might lie till they could be properly dealt with by law; +instead of which, the Government are repealing the wise old laws enacted +against such characters, giving fresh licenses every day to their public-houses, +and saying that it would be a pity to cut down their rookeries and thickets +because they look so very picturesque; and, in fact, giving them all +kind of encouragement; why, if such behaviour is not enough to drive +an honest man mad, I know not what is. It is of no use talking, +I only wish the power were in my hands, and if I did not make short +work of them, might I be a mere jackass postillion all the remainder +of my life.”<br> +<br> +Besides acquiring from the ancient ostler a great deal of curious information +respecting the ways and habits of the heroes of the road, with whom +he had come in contact in the early portion of his life, I picked up +from him many excellent hints relating to the art of grooming horses. +Whilst at the inn, I frequently groomed the stage and post-horses, and +those driven up by travellers in their gigs: I was not compelled, nor +indeed expected, to do so; but I took pleasure in the occupation; and +I remember at that period one of the principal objects of my ambition +was to be a first-rate groom, and to make the skins of the creatures +I took in hand look sleek and glossy like those of moles. I have +said that I derived valuable hints from the old man, and, indeed, became +a very tolerable groom, but there was a certain finishing touch which +I could never learn from him, though he possessed it himself, and which +I could never attain to by my own endeavours; though my want of success +certainly did not proceed from want of application, for I have rubbed +the horses down, purring and buzzing all the time, after the genuine +ostler fashion, until the perspiration fell in heavy drops upon my shoes, +and when I had done my best and asked the old fellow what he thought +of my work, I could never extract from him more than a kind of grunt, +which might be translated, “Not so very bad, but I have seen a +horse groomed much better,” which leads me to suppose that a person, +in order to be a first-rate groom, must have something in him when he +is born which I had not, and, indeed, which many other people have not +who pretend to be grooms. What does the reader think?<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXV<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Stable Hartshorn - How to Manage a Horse on a Journey - Your Best Friend.<br> +<br> +<br> +Of one thing I am certain, that the reader must be much delighted with +the wholesome smell of the stable, with which many of these pages are +redolent; what a contrast to the sickly odours exhaled from those of +some of my contemporaries, especially of those who pretend to be of +the highly fashionable class, and who treat of reception-rooms, well +may they be styled so, in which dukes, duchesses, earls, countesses, +archbishops, bishops, mayors, mayoresses - not forgetting the writers +themselves, both male and female - congregate and press upon one another; +how cheering, how refreshing, after having been nearly knocked down +with such an atmosphere, to come in contact with genuine stable hartshorn. +Oh! the reader shall have yet more of the stable, and of that old ostler, +for which he or she will doubtless exclaim, “Much obliged!” +- and, lest I should forget to perform my promise, the reader shall +have it now.<br> +<br> +I shall never forget an harangue from the mouth of the old man, which +I listened to one warm evening as he and I sat on the threshold of the +stable, after having attended to some of the wants of a batch of coach-horses. +It related to the manner in which a gentleman should take care of his +horse and self, whilst engaged in a journey on horseback, and was addressed +to myself, on the supposition of my one day coming to an estate, and +of course becoming a gentleman.<br> +<br> +“When you are a gentleman,” said he, “should you ever +journey on a horse of your own, and you could not have a much better +than the one you have here eating its fill in the box yonder - I wonder, +by the bye, how you ever came by it - you can’t do better than +follow the advice I am about to give you, both with respect to your +animal and yourself. Before you start, merely give your horse +a couple of handfuls of corn and a little water, somewhat under a quart, +and if you drink a pint of water yourself out of the pail, you will +feel all the better during the whole day; then you may walk and trot +your animal for about ten miles, till you come to some nice inn, where +you may get down and see your horse led into a nice stall, telling the +ostler not to feed him till you come. If the ostler happens to +be a dog-fancier, and has an English terrier-dog like that of mine there, +say what a nice dog it is, and praise its black and tawn; and if he +does not happen to be a dog-fancier, ask him how he’s getting +on, and whether he ever knew worse times; that kind of thing will please +the ostler, and he will let you do just what you please with your own +horse, and when your back is turned, he’ll say to his comrades +what a nice gentleman you are, and how he thinks he has seen you before; +then go and sit down to breakfast, and, before you have finished breakfast, +get up and go and give your horse a feed of corn; chat with the ostler +two or three minutes till your horse has taken the shine out of his +corn, which will prevent the ostler taking any of it away when your +back is turned, for such things are sometimes done - not that I ever +did such a thing myself when I was at the inn at Hounslow. Oh, +dear me, no! Then go and finish your breakfast, and when you have +finished your breakfast and called for the newspaper, go and water your +horse, letting him have one pailful, then give him another feed of corn, +and enter into discourse with the ostler about bull-baiting, the prime +minister, and the like; and when your horse has once more taken the +shine out of his corn, go back to your room and your newspaper - and +I hope for your sake it may be the <i>Globe</i>, for that’s the +best paper going - then pull the bell-rope and order in your bill, which +you will pay without counting it up - supposing you to be a gentleman. +Give the waiter sixpence, and order out your horse, and when your horse +is out, pay for the corn, and give the ostler a shilling, then mount +your horse and walk him gently for five miles; and whilst you are walking +him in this manner, it may be as well to tell you to take care that +you do not let him down and smash his knees, more especially if the +road be a particularly good one, for it is not at a desperate hiverman +pace, and over very bad roads, that a horse tumbles and smashes his +knees, but on your particularly nice road, when the horse is going gently +and lazily, and is half asleep, like the gemman on his back; well, at +the end of the five miles, when the horse has digested his food, and +is all right, you may begin to push your horse on, trotting him a mile +at a heat, and then walking him a quarter of a one, that his wind may +be not distressed; and you may go on in that way for thirty miles, never +galloping, of course, for none but fools or hivermen ever gallop horses +on roads; and at the end of that distance you may stop at some other +nice inn to dinner. I say, when your horse is led into the stable, +after that same thirty miles’ trotting and walking, don’t +let the saddle be whisked off at once, for if you do your horse will +have such a sore back as will frighten you, but let your saddle remain +on your horse’s back, with the girths loosened, till after his +next feed of corn, and be sure that he has no corn, much less water, +till after a long hour and more; after he is fed he may be watered to +the tune of half a pail, and then the ostler can give him a regular +rub down; you may then sit down to dinner, and when you have dined get +up and see to your horse as you did after breakfast, in fact, you must +do much after the same fashion you did at t’other inn; see to +your horse, and by no means disoblige the ostler. So when you +have seen to your horse a second time, you will sit down to your bottle +of wine - supposing you to be a gentleman - and after you have finished +it, and your argument about the corn-laws with any commercial gentleman +who happens to be in the room, you may mount your horse again - not +forgetting to do the proper thing to the waiter and ostler; you may +mount your horse again and ride him, as you did before, for about five +and twenty miles, at the end of which you may put up for the night after +a very fair day’s journey, for no gentleman - supposing he weighs +sixteen stone, as I suppose you will by the time you become a gentleman +- ought to ride a horse more than sixty-five miles in one day, provided +he has any regard for his horse’s back, or his own either. +See to your horse at night, and have him well rubbed down. The +next day you may ride your horse forty miles, just as you please, but +never foolishly, and those forty miles will bring you to your journey’s +end, unless your journey be a plaguy long one, and if so, never ride +your horse more than five and thirty miles a day, always, however, seeing +him well fed, and taking more care of him than yourself; which is but +right and reasonable, seeing as how the horse is the best animal of +the two.”<br> +<br> +“When you are a gentleman,” said he, after a pause, “the +first thing you must think about is to provide yourself with a good +horse for your own particular riding; you will, perhaps, keep a coach +and pair, but they will be less your own than your lady’s, should +you have one, and your young gentry, should you have any; or, if you +have neither, for madam, your housekeeper, and the upper female servants; +so you need trouble your head less about them, though, of course, you +would not like to pay away your money for screws; but be sure you get +a good horse for your own riding; and that you may have a good chance +of having a good one, buy one that’s young and has plenty of belly +- a little more than the one has which you now have, though you are +not yet a gentleman; you will, of course, look to his head, his withers, +legs and other points, but never buy a horse at any price that has not +plenty of belly; no horse that has not belly is ever a good feeder, +and a horse that a’n’t a good feeder can’t be a good +horse; never buy a horse that is drawn up in the belly behind; a horse +of that description can’t feed, and can never carry sixteen stone.<br> +<br> +“So when you have got such a horse be proud of it - as I daresay +you are of the one you have now - and wherever you go swear there a’n’t +another to match it in the country, and if anybody gives you the lie, +take him by the nose and tweak it off, just as you would do if anybody +were to speak ill of your lady, or, for want of her, of your housekeeper. +Take care of your horse, as you would of the apple of your eye - I am +sure I would, if I were a gentleman, which I don’t ever expect +to be, and hardly wish, seeing as how I am sixty-nine, and am rather +too old to ride - yes, cherish and take care of your horse as perhaps +the best friend you have in the world; for, after all, who will carry +you through thick and thin as your horse will? not your gentlemen friends, +I warrant, nor your upper servants, male or female; perhaps your lady +would, that is, if she is a whopper, and one of the right sort; the +others would be more likely to take up mud and pelt you with it, provided +they saw you in trouble, than to help you. So take care of your +horse, and feed him every day with your own hands; give him three quarters +of a peck of corn each day, mixed up with a little hay-chaff, and allow +him besides one hundredweight of hay in the course of the week; some +say that the hay should be hardland hay, because it is the wholesomest, +but I say, let it be clover hay, because the horse likes it best; give +him through summer and winter, once a week, a pailful of bran mash, +cold in summer and in winter hot; ride him gently about the neighbourhood +every day, by which means you will give exercise to yourself and horse, +and, moreover, have the satisfaction of exhibiting yourself and your +horse to advantage, and hearing, perhaps, the men say what a fine horse, +and the ladies saying what a fine man: never let your groom mount your +horse, as it is ten to one, if you do, your groom will be wishing to +show off before company, and will fling your horse down. I was +groom to a gemman before I went to the inn at Hounslow, and flung him +a horse down worth ninety guineas, by endeavouring to show off before +some ladies that I met on the road. Turn your horse out to grass +throughout May and the first part of June, for then the grass is sweetest, +and the flies don’t sting so bad as they do later in summer; afterwards +merely turn him out occasionally in the swale of the morn and the evening; +after September the grass is good for little, lash and sour at best; +every horse should go out to grass, if not his blood becomes full of +greasy humours, and his wind is apt to become affected, but he ought +to be kept as much as possible from the heat and flies, always got up +at night, and never turned out late in the year - Lord! if I had always +such a nice attentive person to listen to me as you are, I could go +on talking about ‘orses to the end of time.”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXVI<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The Stage - Coachmen of England - A Bully Served Out - Broughton’s +Guard - The Brazen Head.<br> +<br> +<br> +I lived on very good terms, not only with the master and the old ostler, +but with all the domestics and hangers on at the inn; waiters, chambermaids, +cooks, and scullions, not forgetting the “boots,” of which +there were three. As for the postillions, I was sworn brother +with them all, and some of them went so far as to swear that I was the +best fellow in the world; for which high opinion entertained by them +of me, I believe I was principally indebted to the good account their +comrade gave of me, whom I had so hospitably received in the dingle. +I repeat that I lived on good terms with all the people connected with +the inn, and was noticed and spoken kindly to by some of the guests +- especially by that class termed commercial travellers - all of whom +were great friends and patronizers of the landlord, and were the principal +promoters of the dinner, and subscribers to the gift of plate, which +I have already spoken of, the whole fraternity striking me as the jolliest +set of fellows imaginable, the best customers to an inn, and the most +liberal to servants; there was one description of persons, however, +frequenting the inn, which I did not like at all, and which I did not +get on well with, and these people were the stage-coachmen.<br> +<br> +The stage-coachmen of England, at the time of which I am speaking, considered +themselves mighty fine gentry, nay, I verily believe the most important +personages of the realm, and their entertaining this high opinion of +themselves can scarcely be wondered at; they were low fellows, but masters +at driving; driving was in fashion, and sprigs of nobility used to dress +as coachmen and imitate the slang and behaviour of the coachmen, from +whom occasionally they would take lessons in driving as they sat beside +them on the box, which post of honour any sprig of nobility who happened +to take a place on a coach claimed as his unquestionable right; and +these sprigs would smoke cigars and drink sherry with the coachmen in +bar-rooms, and on the road; and, when bidding them farewell, would give +them a guinea or a half-guinea, and shake them by the hand, so that +these fellows, being low fellows, very naturally thought no small liquor +of themselves, but would talk familiarly of their friends lords so and +so, the honourable misters so and so, and Sir Harry and Sir Charles, +and be wonderfully saucy to any one who was not a lord, or something +of the kind; and this high opinion of themselves received daily augmentation +from the servile homage paid them by the generality of the untitled +male passengers, especially those on the fore part of the coach, who +used to contend for the honour of sitting on the box with the coachman +when no sprig was nigh to put in his claim. Oh! what servile homage +these craven creatures did pay these same coach fellows, more especially +after witnessing this or t’other act of brutality practised upon +the weak and unoffending - upon some poor friendless woman travelling +with but little money, and perhaps a brace of hungry children with her, +or upon some thin and half-starved man travelling on the hind part of +the coach from London to Liverpool with only eighteen pence in his pocket +after his fare was paid, to defray his expenses on the road; for as +the insolence of these knights was vast, so was their rapacity enormous; +they had been so long accustomed to have crowns and half-crowns rained +upon them by their admirers and flatterers, that they would look at +a shilling, for which many an honest labourer was happy to toil for +ten hours under a broiling sun, with the utmost contempt; would blow +upon it derisively, or fillip it into the air before they pocketed it; +but when nothing was given them, as would occasionally happen - for +how could they receive from those who had nothing? and nobody was bound +to give them anything, as they had certain wages from their employers +- then what a scene would ensue! Truly the brutality and rapacious +insolence of English coachmen had reached a climax; it was time that +these fellows should be disenchanted, and the time - thank Heaven! - +was not far distant. Let the craven dastards who used to curry +favour with them, and applaud their brutality, lament their loss now +that they and their vehicles have disappeared from the roads; I, who +have ever been an enemy to insolence, cruelty, and tyranny, loathe their +memory, and, what is more, am not afraid to say so, well aware of the +storm of vituperation, partly learnt from them, which I may expect from +those who used to fall down and worship them.<br> +<br> +Amongst the coachmen who frequented the inn was one who was called “the +bang-up coachman.” He drove to our inn, in the fore part +of every day, one of what were called the fast coaches, and afterwards +took back the corresponding vehicle. He stayed at our house about +twenty minutes, during which time the passengers of the coach which +he was to return with dined; those at least who were inclined for dinner, +and could pay for it. He derived his sobriquet of “the bang-up +coachman” partly from his being dressed in the extremity of coach +dandyism, and partly from the peculiar insolence of his manner, and +the unmerciful fashion in which he was in the habit of lashing on the +poor horses committed to his charge. He was a large tall fellow, +of about thirty, with a face which, had it not been bloated by excess, +and insolence and cruelty stamped most visibly upon it, might have been +called good-looking. His insolence indeed was so great, that he +was hated by all the minor fry connected with coaches along the road +upon which he drove, especially the ostlers, whom he was continually +abusing or finding fault with. Many was the hearty curse which +he received when his back was turned; but the generality of people were +much afraid of him, for he was a swinging strong fellow, and had the +reputation of being a fighter, and in one or two instances had beaten +in a barbarous manner individuals who had quarrelled with him.<br> +<br> +I was nearly having a fracas with this worthy. One day, after +he had been drinking sherry with a sprig, he swaggered into the yard +where I happened to be standing; just then a waiter came by carrying +upon a tray part of a splendid Cheshire cheese, with a knife, plate, +and napkin. Stopping the waiter, the coachman cut with the knife +a tolerably large lump out of the very middle of the cheese, stuck it +on the end of the knife, and putting it to his mouth nibbled a slight +piece off it, and then, tossing the rest away with disdain, flung the +knife down upon the tray, motioning the waiter to proceed; “I +wish,” said I, “you may not want before you die what you +have just flung away,” whereupon the fellow turned furiously towards +me; just then, however, his coach being standing at the door, there +was a cry for coachman, so that he was forced to depart, contenting +himself for the present with shaking his fist at me, and threatening +to serve me out on the first opportunity; before, however, the opportunity +occurred he himself got served out in a most unexpected manner.<br> +<br> +The day after this incident he drove his coach to the inn, and after +having dismounted and received the contributions of the generality of +the passengers, he strutted up, with a cigar in his mouth, to an individual +who had come with him, and who had just asked me a question with respect +to the direction of a village about three miles off, to which he was +going. “Remember the coachman,” said the knight of +the box to this individual, who was a thin person of about sixty, with +a white hat, rather shabby black coat, and buff-coloured trousers, and +who held an umbrella and a small bundle in his hand. “If +you expect me to give you anything,” said he to the coachman, +“you are mistaken; I will give you nothing. You have been +very insolent to me as I rode behind you on the coach, and have encouraged +two or three trumpery fellows, who rode along with you, to cut scurvy +jokes at my expense, and now you come to me for money; I am not so poor, +but I could have given you a shilling had you been civil; as it is, +I will give you nothing.” “Oh! you won’t, won’t +you?” said the coachman; “dear me! I hope I shan’t +starve because you won’t give me anything - a shilling I why, +I could afford to give you twenty if I thought fit, you pauper! civil +to you, indeed! things are come to a fine pass if I need be civil to +you! Do you know who you are speaking to? why, the best lords +in the country are proud to speak to me. Why, it was only the +other day that the Marquis of - said to me - ” and then he went +on to say what the Marquis said to him; after which, flinging down his +cigar, he strutted up the road, swearing to himself about paupers.<br> +<br> +“You say it is three miles to -,” said the individual to +me; “I think I shall light my pipe, and smoke it as I go along.” +Thereupon he took out from a side-pocket a tobacco-box and short meerschaum +pipe, and implements for striking a light, filled his pipe, lighted +it, and commenced smoking. Presently the coachman drew near. +I saw at once that there was mischief in his eye; the man smoking was +standing with his back towards him, and he came so nigh to him, seemingly +purposely, that as he passed a puff of smoke came of necessity against +his face. “What do you mean by smoking in my face?” +said he, striking the pipe of the elderly individual out of his mouth. +The other, without manifesting much surprise, said, “I thank you; +and if you will wait a minute, I will give you a receipt for that favour;” +then gathering up his pipe, and taking off his coat and hat, he laid +them on a stepping-block which stood near, and rubbing his hands together, +he advanced towards the coachman in an attitude of offence, holding +his hands crossed very near to his face. The coachman, who probably +expected anything but such a movement from a person of the age and appearance +of the individual whom he had insulted, stood for a moment motionless +with surprise; but, recollecting himself, he pointed at him derisively +with his finger; the next moment, however, the other was close upon +him, had struck aside the extended hand with his left fist, and given +him a severe blow on the nose with his right, which he immediately followed +by a left-hand blow in the eye; then drawing his body slightly backward, +with the velocity of lightning he struck the coachman full in the mouth, +and the last blow was the severest of all, for it cut the coachman’s +lips nearly through; blows so quickly and sharply dealt I had never +seen. The coachman reeled like a fir-tree in a gale, and seemed +nearly unsensed. “Ho! what’s this? a fight! a fight!” +sounded from a dozen voices, and people came running from all directions +to see what was going on. The coachman, coming somewhat to himself, +disencumbered himself of his coat and hat; and, encouraged by two or +three of his brothers of the whip, showed some symptoms of fighting, +endeavouring to close with his foe, but the attempt was vain, for his +foe was not to be closed with; he did not shift or dodge about, but +warded off the blows of his opponent with the greatest sang-froid, always +using the guard which I have already described, and putting in, in return, +short chopping blows with the swiftness of lightning. In a very +few minutes the countenance of the coachman was literally cut to pieces, +and several of his teeth were dislodged; at length he gave in; stung +with mortification, however, he repented, and asked for another round; +it was granted, to his own complete demolition. The coachman did +not drive his coach back that day, he did not appear on the box again +for a week; but he never held up his head afterwards. Before I +quitted the inn, he had disappeared from the road, going no one knew +where.<br> +<br> +The coachman, as I have said before, was very much disliked upon the +road, but there was an esprit de corps amongst the coachmen, and those +who stood by did not like to see their brother chastised in such tremendous +fashion. “I never saw such a fight before,” said one. +“Fight! why, I don’t call it a fight at all; this chap here +ha’n’t got a scratch, whereas Tom is cut to pieces; it is +all along of that guard of his; if Tom could have got within his guard +he would have soon served the old chap out.” “So he +would,” said another, “it was all owing to that guard. +However, I think I see into it, and if I had not to drive this afternoon, +I would have a turn with the old fellow and soon serve him out.” +“I will fight him now for a guinea,” said the other coachman, +half taking off his coat; observing, however, that the elderly individual +made a motion towards him, he hitched it upon his shoulder again, and +added, “that is, if he had not been fighting already, but as it +is, I am above taking an advantage, especially of such a poor old creature +as that.” And when he had said this, he looked around him, +and there was a feeble titter of approbation from two or three of the +craven crew, who were in the habit of currying favour with the coachmen. +The elderly individual looked for a moment at these last, and then said, +“To such fellows as you I have nothing to say;” then turning +to the coachmen, “and as for you,” he said, “ye cowardly +bullies, I have but one word, which is, that your reign upon the roads +is nearly over, and that a time is coming when ye will no longer be +wanted or employed in your present capacity, when ye will either have +to drive dung-carts, assist as ostlers at village ale-houses, or rot +in the workhouse.” Then putting on his coat and hat, and +taking up his bundle, not forgetting his meerschaum, and the rest of +his smoking apparatus, he departed on his way. Filled with curiosity, +I followed him.<br> +<br> +“I am quite astonished that you should be able to use your hands +in the way you have done,” said I, as I walked with this individual +in the direction in which he was bound.<br> +<br> +“I will tell you how I became able to do so,” said the elderly +individual, proceeding to fill and light his pipe as he walked along. +“My father was a journeyman engraver, who lived in a very riotous +neighbourhood in the outskirts of London. Wishing to give me something +of an education, he sent me to a day-school, two or three streets distant +from where we lived, and there, being rather a puny boy, I suffered +much persecution from my schoolfellows, who were a very blackguard set. +One day, as I was running home, with one of my tormentors pursuing me, +old Sergeant Broughton, the retired fighting-man, seized me by the arm +- ”<br> +<br> +“Dear me,” said I, “has it ever been your luck to +be acquainted with Sergeant Broughton?”<br> +<br> +“You may well call it luck,” said the elderly individual; +but for him I should never have been able to make my way through the +world. He lived only four doors from our house; so, as I was running +along the street, with my tyrant behind me, Sergeant Broughton seized +me by the arm. ‘Stop, my boy,’ said he; ‘I have +frequently seen that scamp ill-treating you; now I will teach you how +to send him home with a bloody nose; down with your bag of books; and +now, my game chick,’ whispered he to me, placing himself between +me and my adversary, so that he could not observe his motions; ‘clench +your fist in this manner, and hold your arms in this, and when he strikes +at you, move them as I now show you, and he can’t hurt you; now, +don’t be afraid, but go at him.’ I confess that I +was somewhat afraid, but I considered myself in some degree under the +protection of the famous Sergeant, and, clenching my fist, I went at +my foe, using the guard which my ally recommended. The result +corresponded to a certain degree with the predictions of the Sergeant; +I gave my foe a bloody nose and a black eye, though, notwithstanding +my recent lesson in the art of self-defence, he contrived to give me +two or three clumsy blows. From that moment I was the especial +favourite of the Sergeant, who gave me further lessons, so that in a +little time I became a very fair boxer, beating everybody of my own +size who attacked me. The old gentleman, however, made me promise +never to be quarrelsome, nor to turn his instructions to account, except +in self-defence. I have always borne in mind my promise, and have +made it a point of conscience never to fight unless absolutely compelled. +Folks may rail against boxing if they please, but being able to box +may sometimes stand a quiet man in good stead. How should I have +fared to-day, but for the instructions of Sergeant Broughton? +But for them, the brutal ruffian who insulted me must have passed unpunished. +He will not soon forget the lesson which I have just given him - the +only lesson he could understand. What would have been the use +of reasoning with a fellow of that description? Brave old Broughton! +I owe him much.”<br> +<br> +“And your manner of fighting,” said I, “was the manner +employed by Sergeant Broughton?”<br> +<br> +“Yes,” said my new acquaintance; “it was the manner +in which he beat every one who attempted to contend with him, till, +in an evil hour, he entered the ring with Slack, without any training +or preparation, and by a chance blow lost the battle to a man who had +been beaten with ease by those who, in the hands of Broughton, appeared +like so many children. It was the way of fighting of him who first +taught Englishmen to box scientifically, who was the head and father +of the fighters of what is now called the old school, the last of which +were Johnson and Big Ben.”<br> +<br> +“A wonderful man, that Big Ben,” said I.<br> +<br> +“He was so,” said the elderly individual; “but had +it not been for Broughton, I question whether Ben would have ever been +the fighter he was. Oh! there was no one like old Broughton; but +for him I should at the present moment be sneaking along the road, pursued +by the hissings and hootings of the dirty flatterers of that blackguard +coachman.”<br> +<br> +“What did you mean,” said I, “by those words of yours, +that the coachmen would speedily disappear from the roads?”<br> +<br> +“I meant,” said he, “that a new method of travelling +is about to be established, which will supersede the old. I am +a poor engraver, as my father was before me; but engraving is an intellectual +trade, and by following it, I have been brought in contact with some +of the cleverest men in England. It has even made me acquainted +with the projector of the scheme, which he has told me many of the wisest +heads of England have been dreaming of during a period of six hundred +years, and which it seems was alluded to by a certain Brazen Head in +the story-book of Friar Bacon, who is generally supposed to have been +a wizard, but in reality was a great philosopher. Young man, in +less than twenty years, by which time I shall be dead and gone, England +will be surrounded with roads of metal, on which armies may travel with +mighty velocity, and of which the walls of brass and iron by which the +friar proposed to defend his native land are the types.” +He then, shaking me by the hand, proceeded on his way, whilst I returned +to the inn.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXVII<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Francis Ardry - His Misfortunes - Dog and Lion Fight - Great Men of +the World.<br> +<br> +<br> +A few days after the circumstance which I have last commemorated, it +chanced that, as I was standing at the door of the inn, one of the numerous +stage-coaches which were in the habit of stopping there, drove up, and +several passengers got down. I had assisted a woman with a couple +of children to dismount, and had just delivered to her a band-box, which +appeared to be her only property, which she had begged me to fetch down +from the roof, when I felt a hand laid upon my shoulder, and heard a +voice exclaim, “Is it possible, old fellow, that I find you in +this place?” I turned round, and, wrapped in a large blue +cloak, I beheld my good friend Francis Ardry. I shook him most +warmly by the hand, and said, “If you are surprised to see me, +I am no less so to see you; where are you bound to?”<br> +<br> +“I am bound for L-; at any rate, I am booked for that sea-port,” +said my friend in reply.<br> +<br> +“I am sorry for it,” said I, “for in that case we +shall have to part in a quarter of an hour, the coach by which you came +stopping no longer.”<br> +<br> +“And whither are you bound?” demanded my friend.<br> +<br> +“I am stopping at present in this house, quite undetermined as +to what to do.”<br> +<br> +“Then come along with me,” said Francis Ardry.<br> +<br> +“That I can scarcely do,” said I; “I have a horse +in the stall which I cannot afford to ruin by racing to L--- by the +side of your coach.”<br> +<br> +My friend mused for a moment: “I have no particular business at +L---,” said he; “I was merely going thither to pass a day +or two, till an affair, in which I am deeply interested, at C--- shall +come off. I think I shall stay with you for four-and-twenty hours +at least; I have been rather melancholy of late, and cannot afford to +part with a friend like you at the present moment; it is an unexpected +piece of good fortune to have met you; and I have not been very fortunate +of late,” he added, sighing.<br> +<br> +“Well,” said I, “I am glad to see you once more, whether +fortunate, or not; where is your baggage?”<br> +<br> +“Yon trunk is mine,” said Francis, pointing to a trunk of +black Russian leather upon the coach.<br> +<br> +“We will soon have it down,” said I; and at a word which +I gave to one of the hangers-on of the inn, the trunk was taken from +the top of the coach. “Now,” said I to Francis Ardry, +“follow me, I am a person of some authority in this house;” +thereupon I led Francis Ardry into the house, and a word which I said +to a waiter forthwith installed Francis Ardry in a comfortable private +sitting-room, and his trunk in the very best sleeping-room of our extensive +establishment.<br> +<br> +It was now about one o’clock: Francis Ardry ordered dinner for +two, to be ready at four, and a pint of sherry to be brought forthwith, +which I requested my friend the waiter might be the very best, and which +in effect turned out as I requested; we sat down, and when we had drunk +to each other’s health, Frank requested me to make known to him +how I had contrived to free myself from my embarrassments in London, +what I had been about since I quitted that city, and the present posture +of my affairs.<br> +<br> +I related to Francis Ardry how I had composed the Life of Joseph Sell, +and how the sale of it to the bookseller had enabled me to quit London +with money in my pocket, which had supported me during a long course +of ramble in the country, into the particulars of which I, however, +did not enter with any considerable degree of fulness. I summed +up my account by saying that “I was at present a kind of overlooker +in the stables of the inn, had still some pounds in my purse, and, moreover, +a capital horse in the stall.”<br> +<br> +“No very agreeable posture of affairs,” said Francis Ardry, +looking rather seriously at me.<br> +<br> +“I make no complaints,” said I, “my prospects are +not very bright, it is true, but sometimes I have visions both waking +and sleeping, which, though always strange, are invariably agreeable. +Last night, in my chamber near the hayloft, I dreamt that I had passed +over an almost interminable wilderness - an enormous wall rose before +me, the wall, methought, was the great wall of China:- strange figures +appeared to be beckoning to me from the top of the wall; such visions +are not exactly to be sneered at. Not that such phantasmagoria,” +said I, raising my voice, “are to be compared for a moment with +such desirable things as fashion, fine clothes, cheques from uncles, +parliamentary interest, the love of splendid females. Ah! woman’s +love,” said I, and sighed.<br> +<br> +“What’s the matter with the fellow?” said Francis +Ardry.<br> +<br> +“There is nothing like it,” said I.<br> +<br> +“Like what?”<br> +<br> +“Love, divine love,” said I.<br> +<br> +“Confound love,” said Francis Ardry, “I hate the very +name; I have made myself a pretty fool by it, but trust me for ever +being at such folly again. In an evil hour I abandoned my former +pursuits and amusements for it; in one morning spent at Joey’s +there was more real pleasure than in - ”<br> +<br> +“Surely,” said I, “you are not hankering after dog-fighting +again, a sport which none but the gross and unrefined care anything +for? No, one’s thoughts should be occupied by something +higher and more rational than dog-fighting; and what better than love +- divine love? Oh, there’s nothing like it!”<br> +<br> +“Pray, don’t talk nonsense,” said Francis Ardry.<br> +<br> +“Nonsense,” said I; “why I was repeating, to the best +of my recollection, what I heard you say on a former occasion.”<br> +<br> +“If ever I talked such stuff,” said Francis Ardry, “I +was a fool; and indeed I cannot deny that I have been one: no, there’s +no denying that I have been a fool. What do you think? that false +Annette has cruelly abandoned me.”<br> +<br> +“Well,” said I, “perhaps you have yourself to thank +for her having done so; did you never treat her with coldness, and repay +her marks of affectionate interest with strange fits of eccentric humour?”<br> +<br> +“Lord! how little you know of women,” said Francis Ardry; +“had I done as you suppose, I should probably have possessed her +at the present moment. I treated her in a manner diametrically +opposite to that. I loaded her with presents, was always most +assiduous to her, always at her feet, as I may say, yet she nevertheless +abandoned me - and for whom? I am almost ashamed to say - for +a fiddler.”<br> +<br> +I took a glass of wine, Francis Ardry followed my example, and then +proceeded to detail to me the treatment which he had experienced from +Annette, and from what he said, it appeared that her conduct to him +had been in the highest degree reprehensible; notwithstanding he had +indulged her in everything, she was never civil to him, but loaded him +continually with taunts and insults, and had finally, on his being unable +to supply her with a sum of money which she had demanded, decamped from +the lodgings which he had taken for her, carrying with her all the presents +which at various times he had bestowed upon her, and had put herself +under the protection of a gentleman who played the bassoon at the Italian +Opera, at which place it appeared that her sister had lately been engaged +as a danseuse. My friend informed me that at first he had experienced +great agony at the ingratitude of Annette, but at last had made up his +mind to forget her, and, in order more effectually to do so, had left +London with the intention of witnessing a fight, which was shortly coming +off at a town in these parts, between some dogs and a lion; which combat, +he informed me, had for some time past been looked forward to with intense +eagerness by the gentlemen of the sporting world.<br> +<br> +I commended him for his resolution, at the same time advising him not +to give up his mind entirely to dog-fighting, as he had formerly done, +but, when the present combat should be over, to return to his rhetorical +studies, and above all to marry some rich and handsome lady on the first +opportunity, as, with his person and expectations, he had only to sue +for the hand of the daughter of a marquis to be successful, telling +him, with a sigh, that all women were not Annettes, and that, upon the +whole, there was nothing like them. To which advice he answered, +that he intended to return to rhetoric as soon as the lion fight should +be over, but that he never intended to marry, having had enough of women; +adding that he was glad he had no sister, as, with the feelings which +he entertained with respect to her sex, he should be unable to treat +her with common affection, and concluded by repeating a proverb which +he had learnt from an Arab whom he had met at Venice, to the effect, +that, “one who has been stung by a snake, shivers at the sight +of a sting.”<br> +<br> +After a little more conversation, we strolled to the stable, where my +horse was standing; my friend, who was a connoisseur in horseflesh, +surveyed the animal with attention, and after inquiring where and how +I had obtained him, asked what I intended to do with him; on my telling +him that I was undetermined, and that I was afraid the horse was likely +to prove a burden to me, he said, “It is a noble animal, and if +you mind what you are about, you may make a small fortune by him. +I do not want such an animal myself, nor do I know any one who does; +but a great horse-fair will be held shortly at a place where, it is +true, I have never been, but of which I have heard a great deal from +my acquaintances, where it is said a first-rate horse is always sure +to fetch its value; that place is Horncastle, in Lincolnshire, you should +take him thither.”<br> +<br> +Francis Ardry and myself dined together, and after dinner partook of +a bottle of the best port which the inn afforded. After a few +glasses, we had a great deal of conversation; I again brought the subject +of marriage and love, divine love, upon the carpet, but Francis almost +immediately begged me to drop it; and on my having the delicacy to comply, +he reverted to dog-fighting, on which he talked well and learnedly; +amongst other things, he said it was a princely sport of great antiquity, +and quoted from Quintus Curtius to prove that the princes of India must +have been of the fancy, they having, according to that author, treated +Alexander to a fight between certain dogs and a lion. Becoming, +notwithstanding my friend’s eloquence and learning, somewhat tired +of the subject, I began to talk about Alexander. Francis Ardry +said he was one of the two great men whom the world has produced, the +other being Napoleon; I replied that I believed Tamerlane was a greater +man than either; but Francis Ardry knew nothing of Tamerlane, save what +he had gathered from the play of Timour the Tartar. “No,” +said he, “Alexander and Napoleon are the great men of the world, +their names are known everywhere. Alexander has been dead upwards +of two thousand years, but the very English bumpkins sometimes christen +their boys by the name of Alexander - can there be a greater evidence +of his greatness? As for Napoleon, there are some parts of India +in which his bust is worshipped.” Wishing to make up a triumvirate, +I mentioned the name of Wellington, to which Francis Ardry merely said, +“bah!” and resumed the subject of dog-fighting.<br> +<br> +Francis Ardry remained at the inn during that day and the next, and +then departed to the dog and lion fight; I never saw him afterwards, +and merely heard of him once after a lapse of some years, and what I +then heard was not exactly what I could have wished to hear. He +did not make much of the advantages which he possessed, a pity, for +how great were those advantages - person, intellect, eloquence, connection, +riches! yet, with all these advantages, one thing highly needful seems +to have been wanting in Francis. A desire, a craving, to perform +something great and good. Oh! what a vast deal may be done with +intellect, courage, riches, accompanied by the desire of ,doing something +great and good! Why, a person may carry the blessings of civilization +and religion to barbarous, yet at the same time beautiful and romantic +lands; and what a triumph there is for him who does so! what a crown +of glory! of far greater value than those surrounding the brows of your +mere conquerors. Yet who has done so in these times? Not +many; not three, not two, something seems to have been always wanting; +there is, however, one instance, in which the various requisites have +been united, and the crown, the most desirable in the world - at least +which I consider to be the most desirable - achieved, and only one, +that of Brooke of Borneo.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXVIII<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Mr. Platitude and the Man in Black - The Postillion’s Adventures +- The Lone House - A Goodly Assemblage.<br> +<br> +<br> +It never rains, but it pours. I was destined to see at this inn +more acquaintances than one. On the day of Francis Ardry’s +departure, shortly after he had taken leave of me, as I was standing +in the corn-chamber, at a kind of writing-table or desk, fastened to +the wall, with a book before me, in which I was making out an account +of the corn and hay lately received and distributed, my friend the postillion +came running in out of breath. “Here they both are,” +he gasped out; “pray do come and look at them.”<br> +<br> +“Whom do you mean?” said I.<br> +<br> +“Why, that red-haired Jack Priest, and that idiotic parson, Platitude; +they have just been set down by one of the coaches, and want a postchaise +to go across the country in; and what do you think? I am to have +the driving of them. I have no time to lose, for I must get myself +ready; so do come and look at them.”<br> +<br> +I hastened into the yard of the inn; two or three of the helpers of +our establishment were employed in drawing forward a postchaise out +of the chaise-house, which occupied one side of the yard, and which +was spacious enough to contain nearly twenty of these vehicles, though +it was never full, several of them being always out upon the roads, +as the demand upon us for postchaises across the country was very great. +“There they are,” said the postillion, softly, nodding towards +two individuals, in one of whom I recognized the man in black, and in +the other Mr. Platitude; “there they are; have a good look at +them, while I go and get ready.” The man in black and Mr. +Platitude were walking up and down the yard, Mr. Platitude was doing +his best to make himself appear ridiculous, talking very loudly in exceedingly +bad Italian, evidently for the purpose of attracting the notice of the +bystanders, in which he succeeded, all the stable-boys and hangers-on +about the yard, attracted by his vociferation, grinning at his ridiculous +figure as he limped up and down. The man in black said little +or nothing, but from the glances which he cast sideways appeared to +be thoroughly ashamed of his companion; the worthy couple presently +arrived close to where I was standing, and the man in black, who was +nearest to me, perceiving me, stood still as if hesitating, but recovering +himself in a moment, he moved on without taking any farther notice; +Mr. Platitude exclaimed as they passed in broken lingo, “I hope +we shall find the holy doctors all assembled,” and as they returned, +“I make no doubt that they will all be rejoiced to see me.” +Not wishing to be standing an idle gazer, I went to the chaise and assisted +in attaching the horses, which had now been brought out, to the pole. +The postillion presently arrived, and finding all ready took the reins +and mounted the box, whilst I very politely opened the door for the +two travellers; Mr. Platitude got in first, and, without taking any +notice of me, seated himself on the farther side. In got the man +in black, and seated himself nearest to me. “All is right,” +said I, as I shut the door, whereupon the postillion cracked his whip, +and the chaise drove out of the yard. Just as I shut the door, +however, and just as Mr. Platitude had recommenced talking in jergo, +at the top of his voice, the man in black turned his face partly towards +me, and gave me a wink with his left eye.<br> +<br> +I did not see my friend the postillion till the next morning, when he +gave me an account of the adventures he had met with on his expedition. +It appeared that he had driven the man in black and the Reverend Platitude +across the country by roads and lanes which he had some difficulty in +threading. At length, when he had reached a part of the country +where he had never been before, the man in black pointed out to him +a house near the corner of a wood, to which he informed him they were +bound. The postillion said it was a strange-looking house, with +a wall round it; and, upon the whole, bore something of the look of +a madhouse. There was already a postchaise at the gate, from which +three individuals had alighted - one of them the postillion said was +a mean-looking scoundrel, with a regular petty-larceny expression in +his countenance. He was dressed very much like the man in black, +and the postillion said that he could almost have taken his Bible oath +that they were both of the same profession. The other two he said +were parsons, he could swear that, though he had never seen them before; +there could be no mistake about them. Church of England parsons +the postillion swore they were, with their black coats, white cravats, +and airs, in which clumsiness and conceit were most funnily blended +- Church of England parsons of the Platitude description, who had been +in Italy, and seen the Pope, and kissed his toe, and picked up a little +broken Italian, and come home greater fools than they went forth. +It appeared that they were all acquaintances of Mr. Platitude, for when +the postillion had alighted and let Mr. Platitude and his companion +out of the chaise, Mr. Platitude shook the whole three by the hand, +conversed with his two brothers in a little broken jergo, and addressed +the petty-larceny looking individual by the title of Reverend Doctor. +In the midst of these greetings, however, the postillion said the man +in black came up to him, and proceeded to settle with him for the chaise; +he had shaken hands with nobody, and had merely nodded to the others; +“and now,” said the postillion, “he evidently wished +to get rid of me, fearing, probably, that I should see too much of the +nonsense that was going on. It was whilst settling with me that +he seemed to recognize me for the first time, for he stared hard at +me, and at last asked whether I had not been in Italy; to which question, +with a nod and a laugh, I replied that I had. I was then going +to ask him about the health of the image of Holy Mary, and to say that +I hoped it had recovered from its horsewhipping; but he interrupted +me, paid me the money for the fare, and gave me a crown for myself, +saying he would not detain me any longer. I say, partner, I am +a poor postillion, but when he gave me the crown I had a good mind to +fling it in his face. I reflected, however, that it was not mere +gift-money, but coin which I had earned, and hardly too, so I put it +in my pocket, and I bethought me, moreover, that, knave as I knew him +to be, he had always treated me with civility; so I nodded to him, and +he said something which, perhaps, he meant for Latin, but which sounded +very much like ‘vails,’ and by which he doubtless alluded +to the money which he had given me. He then went into the house +with the rest, the coach drove away which had brought the others, and +I was about to get on the box and follow; observing, however, two more +chaises driving up, I thought I would be in no hurry, so I just led +my horses and chaise a little out of the way, and pretending to be occupied +about the harness, I kept a tolerably sharp look-out at the new arrivals. +Well, partner, the next vehicle that drove up was a gentleman’s +carriage which I knew very well, as well as those within it, who were +a father and son, the father a good kind old gentleman, and a justice +of the peace, therefore not very wise, as you may suppose; the son a +puppy who has been abroad, where he contrived to forget his own language, +though only nine months absent, and now rules the roast over his father +and mother, whose only child he is, and by whom he is thought wondrous +clever. So this foreigneering chap brings his poor old father +to this out-of-the-way house to meet these Platitudes and petty-larceny +villains, and perhaps would have brought his mother too, only, simple +thing, by good fortune she happens to be laid up with the rheumatic. +Well, the father and son, I beg pardon, I mean the son and father, got +down and went in, and then after their carriage was gone, the chaise +behind drove up, in which was a huge fat fellow, weighing twenty stone +at least, but with something of a foreign look, and with him - who do +you think? Why, a rascally Unitarian minister, that is, a fellow +who had been such a minister, but who, some years ago leaving his own +people, who had bred him up and sent him to their college at York, went +over to the High Church, and is now, I suppose, going over to some other +church, for he was talking, as he got down, wondrous fast in Latin, +or what sounded something like Latin, to the fat fellow, who appeared +to take things wonderfully easy, and merely grunted to the dog Latin +which the scoundrel had learnt at the expense of the poor Unitarians +at York. So they went into the house, and presently arrived another +chaise, but ere I could make any further observations, the porter of +the out-of-the-way house came up to me, asking what I was stopping there +for? bidding me go away, and not pry into other people’s business. +‘Pretty business,’ said I to him, ‘that is being transacted +in a place like this,’ and then I was going to say something uncivil, +but he went to attend to the new corners, and I took myself away on +my own business as he bade me, not, however, before observing that these +two last were a couple of blackcoats.”<br> +<br> +The postillion then proceeded to relate how he made the best of his +way to a small public-house, about a mile off, where he had intended +to bait, and how he met on the way a landau and pair, belonging to a +Scotch coxcomb whom he had known in London, about whom he related some +curious particulars, and then continued: “Well, after I had passed +him and his turn-out, I drove straight to the public-house, where I +baited my horses, and where I found some of the chaises and drivers +who had driven the folks to the lunatic-looking mansion, and were now +waiting to take them up again. Whilst my horses were eating their +bait, I sat me down, as the weather was warm, at a table outside, and +smoked a pipe, and drank some ale, in company with the coachman of the +old gentleman who had gone to the house with his son, and the coachman +then told me that the house was a Papist house, and that the present +was a grand meeting of all the fools and rascals in the country, who +came to bow down to images, and to concert schemes - pretty schemes +no doubt - for overturning the religion of the country, and that for +his part he did not approve of being concerned with such doings, and +that he was going to give his master warning next day. So, as +we were drinking and discoursing, up drove the chariot of the Scotchman, +and down got his valet and the driver, and whilst the driver was seeing +after the horses, the valet came and sat down at the table where the +gentleman’s coachman and I were drinking. I knew the fellow +well, a Scotchman like his master, and just of the same kidney, with +white kid gloves, red hair frizzled, a patch of paint on his face, and +his hands covered with rings. This very fellow, I must tell you, +was one of those most busy in endeavouring to get me turned out of the +servants’ club in Park Lane, because I happened to serve a literary +man; so he sat down, and in a kind of affected tone cried out, ‘Landlord, +bring me a glass of cold negus.’ The landlord, however, +told him that there was no negus, but that if he pleased, he could have +a jug of as good beer as any in the country. ‘Confound the +beer,’ said the valet, ‘do you think that I am accustomed +to such vulgar beverage?’ However, as he found there was +nothing better to be had, he let the man bring him some beer, and when +he had got it, soon showed that he could drink it easily enough; so, +when he had drunk two or three draughts, he turned his eyes in a contemptuous +manner, first, on the coachman, and then on me: I saw the scamp recollected +me, for after staring at me and my dress for about half a minute, he +put on a broad grin, and flinging his head back, he uttered a loud laugh. +Well, I did not like this, as you may well believe, and taking the pipe +out of my mouth, I asked him if he meant anything personal, to which +he answered, that he had said nothing to me, and that he had a right +to look where he pleased, and laugh when he pleased. Well, as +to a certain extent he was right, as to looking and laughing; and as +I have occasionally looked at a fool and laughed, though I was not the +fool in this instance, I put my pipe into my mouth and said no more. +This quiet and well-regulated behaviour of mine, however, the fellow +interpreted into fear; so, after drinking a little more, he suddenly +started up, and striding once or twice before the table, he asked me +what I meant by that impertinent question of mine, saying that he had +a good mind to wring my nose for my presumption. ‘You have?’ +said I, getting up, and laying down my pipe. ‘Well, I’ll +now give you an opportunity.’ So I put myself in an attitude, +and went up to him, saying ‘I have an old score to settle with +you, you scamp; you wanted to get me turned out of the club, didn’t +you?’ And thereupon, remembering that he had threatened +to wring my nose, I gave him a snorter upon his own. I wish you +could have seen the fellow when he felt the smart; so far from trying +to defend himself, he turned round, and with his hand to his face, attempted +to run away; but I was now in a regular passion, and following him up, +got before him, and was going to pummel away at him, when he burst into +tears, and begged me not to hurt him, saying that he was sorry if he +had offended me, and that, if I pleased, he would go down on his knees, +or do anything else I wanted. Well, when I heard him talk in this +manner, I, of course, let him be; I could hardly help laughing at the +figure he cut; his face all blubbered with tears, and blood and paint; +but I did not laugh at the poor creature either, but went to the table +and took up my pipe, and smoked and drank as if nothing had happened; +and the fellow, after having been to the pump, came and sat down, crying, +and trying to curry favour with me and the coachman; presently, however, +putting on a confidential look, he began to talk of the Popish house, +and of the doings there, and said he supposed as how we were of the +party, and that it was all right; and then he began to talk of the Pope +of Rome, and what a nice man he was, and what a fine thing it was to +be of his religion, especially if folks went over to him; and how it +advanced them in the world, and gave them consideration; and how his +master, who had been abroad and seen the Pope, and kissed his toe, was +going over to the Popish religion, and had persuaded him to consent +to do so, and to forsake his own, which I think the scoundrel called +the ‘Piscopal Church of Scotland, and how many others of that +church were going over, thinking to better their condition in life by +so doing, and to be more thought on; and how many of the English Church +were thinking of going over too - and that he had no doubt that it would +all end right and comfortably. Well, as he was going on in this +way, the old coachman began to spit, and getting up, flung all the beer +that was in his jug upon the ground, and going away, ordered another +jug of beer, and sat down at another table, saying that he would not +drink in such company; and I too got up, and flung what beer remained +in my jug, there wasn’t more than a drop, in the fellow’s +face, saying, I would scorn to drink any more in such company; and then +I went to my horses, put them to, paid my reckoning, and drove home.”<br> +<br> +The postillion having related his story, to which I listened with all +due attention, mused for a moment, and then said, “I dare say +you remember how, some time since, when old Bill had been telling us +how the Government a long time ago, had done away with robbing on the +highway, by putting down the public-houses and places which the highwaymen +frequented, and by sending a good mounted police to hunt them down, +I said that it was a shame that the present Government did not employ +somewhat the same means in order to stop the proceedings of Mumbo Jumbo +and his gang now-a-days in England. Howsomever, since I have driven +a fare to a Popish rendezvous, and seen something of what is going on +there, I should conceive that the Government are justified in allowing +the gang the free exercise of their calling. Anybody is welcome +to stoop and pick up nothing, or worse than nothing, and if Mumbo Jumbo’s +people, after their expeditions, return to their haunts with no better +plunder in the shape of converts than what I saw going into yonder place +of call, I should say they are welcome to what they get; for if that’s +the kind of rubbish they steal out of the Church of England, or any +other church, who in his senses but would say a good riddance, and many +thanks for your trouble: at any rate, that is my opinion of the matter.”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXIX<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Deliberations with Self-Resolution - Invitation to Dinner - The Commercial +Traveller - The Landlord’s Offer - The Comet Wine.<br> +<br> +<br> +It was now that I had frequent deliberations with myself. Should +I continue at the inn in my present position? I was not very much +captivated with it; there was little poetry in keeping an account of +the corn, hay, and straw which came in, and was given out, and I was +fond of poetry; moreover, there was no glory at all to be expected in +doing so, and I was fond of glory. Should I give up that situation, +and remaining at the inn, become ostler under old Bill? There +was more poetry in rubbing down horses than in keeping an account of +straw, hay, and corn; there was also some prospect of glory attached +to the situation of ostler, for the grooms and stable-boys occasionally +talked of an ostler, a great way down the road, who had been presented +by some sporting people, not with a silver vase, as our governor had +been, but with a silver currycomb, in testimony of their admiration +for his skill; but I confess that the poetry of rubbing down had become, +as all other poetry becomes, rather prosy by frequent repetition, and +with respect to the chance of deriving glory from the employment, I +entertained, in the event of my determining to stay, very slight hope +of ever attaining skill in the ostler art sufficient to induce sporting +people to bestow upon me a silver currycomb. I was not half so +good an ostler as old Bill, who had never been presented with a silver +currycomb, and I never expected to become so, therefore what chance +had I? It was true, there was a prospect of some pecuniary emolument +to be derived by remaining in either situation. It was very probable +that, provided I continued to keep an account of the hay and corn coming +in and expended, the landlord would consent to allow me a pound a week, +which at the end of a dozen years, provided I kept myself sober, would +amount to a considerable sum. I might, on the retirement of old +Bill, by taking his place, save up a decent sum of money, provided, +unlike him, I kept myself sober, and laid by all the shillings and sixpences +I got; but the prospect of laying up a decent sum of money was not of +sufficient importance to induce me to continue either at my wooden desk, +or in the inn-yard. The reader will remember what difficulty I +had to make up my mind to become a merchant under the Armenian’s +auspices, even with the prospect of making two or three hundred thousand +pounds by following the Armenian way of doing business, so it was not +probable that I should feel disposed to be a book-keeper or ostler all +my life with no other prospect than being able to make a tidy sum of +money. If indeed, besides the prospect of making a tidy sum at +the end of perhaps forty years’ ostlering, I had been certain +of being presented with a silver currycomb with my name engraved upon +it, which I might have left to my descendants, or, in default thereof, +to the parish church destined to contain my bones, with directions that +it might be soldered into the wall above the arch leading from the body +of the church into the chancel - I will not say with such a certainty +of immortality, combined with such a prospect of moderate pecuniary +advantage, - I might not have thought it worth my while to stay, but +I entertained no such certainty, and, taking everything into consideration, +I determined to mount my horse and leave the inn.<br> +<br> +This horse had caused me for some time past no little perplexity; I +had frequently repented of having purchased him, more especially as +the purchase had been made with another person’s money, and had +more than once shown him to people who, I imagined, were likely to purchase +him; but, though they were profuse in his praise, as people generally +are in the praise of what they don’t intend to purchase, they +never made me an offer, and now that I had determined to mount on his +back and ride away, what was I to do with him in the sequel? I +could not maintain him long. Suddenly I bethought me of Horncastle, +which Francis Ardry had mentioned as a place where the horse was likely +to find a purchaser, and not having determined upon any particular place +to which to repair, I thought that I could do no better than betake +myself to Horncastle in the first instance, and there endeavour to dispose +of my horse.<br> +<br> +On making inquiries with respect to the situation of Horncastle, and +the time when the fair would be held, I learned that the town was situated +in Lincolnshire, about a hundred and fifty miles from the inn at which +I was at present sojourning, and that the fair would be held nominally +within about a month, but that it was always requisite to be on the +spot some days before the nominal day of the fair, as all the best horses +were generally sold before that time, and the people who came to purchase +gone away with what they had bought.<br> +<br> +The people of the inn were very sorry on being informed of my determination +to depart. Old Bill told me that he had hoped as how I had intended +to settle down there, and to take his place as ostler when he was fit +for no more work, adding, that though I did not know much of the business, +yet he had no doubt but that I might improve. My friend the postillion +was particularly sorry, and taking me with him to the tap-room called +for two pints of beer, to one of which he treated me; and whilst we +were drinking told me how particularly sorry he was at the thought of +my going, but that he hoped I should think better of the matter. +On my telling him that I must go, he said that he trusted I should put +off my departure for three weeks, in order that I might be present at +his marriage, the banns of which were just about to be published. +He said that nothing would give him greater pleasure than to see me +dance a minuet with his wife after the marriage dinner; but I told him +it was impossible that I should stay, my affairs imperatively calling +me elsewhere; and that with respect to my dancing a minuet, such a thing +was out of the question, as I had never learned to dance. At which +he said that he was exceedingly sorry, and finding me determined to +go, wished me success in all my undertakings.<br> +<br> +The master of the house, to whom, as in duty bound, I communicated my +intention before I spoke of it to the servants, was, I make no doubt, +very sorry, though he did not exactly tell me so. What he said +was, that he had never expected that I should remain long there, as +such a situation never appeared to him quite suitable to me, though +I had been very diligent, and had given him perfect satisfaction. +On his inquiring when I intended to depart, I informed him next day, +whereupon he begged that I would defer my departure till the next day +but one, and do him the favour of dining with him on the morrow. +I informed him that I should be only too happy.<br> +<br> +On the following day at four o’clock I dined with the landlord, +in company with a commercial traveller. The dinner was good, though +plain, consisting of boiled mackerel - rather a rarity in those parts +at that time - with fennel sauce, a prime baron of roast beef after +the mackerel, then a tart and noble Cheshire cheese; we had prime sherry +at dinner, and whilst eating the cheese prime porter, that of Barclay, +the only good porter in the world. After the cloth was removed +we had a bottle of very good port; and whilst partaking of the port +I had an argument with the commercial traveller on the subject of the +corn-laws.<br> +<br> +The commercial traveller, having worsted me in the argument on the subject +of the corn-laws, got up in great glee, saying that he must order his +gig, as business must be attended to. Before leaving the room, +however, he shook me patronizingly by the hand, and said something to +the master of the house, but in so low a tone that it escaped my ear.<br> +<br> +No sooner had he departed than the master of the house told me that +his friend the traveller had just said that I was a confounded sensible +young fellow, and not at all opinionated, a sentiment in which he himself +perfectly agreed - then hemming once or twice, he said that as I was +going on a journey he hoped I was tolerably well provided with money, +adding that travelling was rather expensive, especially on horseback, +the manner in which he supposed, as I had a horse in the stable, I intended +to travel. I told him that though I was not particularly well +supplied with money, I had sufficient for the expenses of my journey, +at the end of which I hoped to procure more. He then hemmed again, +and said that since I had been at the inn I had rendered him a great +deal of service in more ways than one, and that he should not think +of permitting me to depart without making me some remuneration; then +putting his hand into his waistcoat pocket, he handed me a cheque for +ten pounds, which he had prepared beforehand, the value of which he +said I could receive at the next town, or that, if I wished it, any +waiter in the house would cash it for me. I thanked him for his +generosity in the best terms I could select, but, handing him back the +cheque, I told him that I could not accept it, saying, that, so far +from his being my debtor, I believed myself to be indebted to him, as +not only myself but my horse had been living at his house for several +weeks. He replied, that as for my board at a house like his it +amounted to nothing, and as for the little corn and hay which the horse +had consumed it was of no consequence, and that he must insist upon +my taking the cheque. But I again declined, telling him that doing +so would be a violation of a rule which I had determined to follow, +and which nothing but the greatest necessity would ever compel me to +break through - never to incur obligations. “But,” +said he, “receiving this money will not be incurring an obligation, +it is your due.” “I do not think so,” said I; +“I did not engage to serve you for money, nor will I take any +from you.” “Perhaps you will take it as a loan?” +said he. “No,” I replied, “I never borrow.” +“Well,” said the landlord, smiling, “you are different +from all others that I am acquainted with. I never yet knew any +one else who scrupled to borrow and receive obligations; why, there +are two baronets in the neighbourhood who have borrowed money of me, +ay, and who have never repaid what they borrowed; and there are a dozen +squires who are under considerable obligations to me, who I dare say +will never return them. Come, you need not be more scrupulous +than your superiors - I mean in station.” “Every vessel +must stand on its own bottom,” said I; “they take pleasure +in receiving obligations, I take pleasure in being independent. +Perhaps they are wise, and I am a fool, I know not, but one thing I +am certain of, which is, that were I not independent I should be very +unhappy: I should have no visions then.” “Have you +any relations?” said the landlord, looking at me compassionately; +“excuse me, but I don’t think you are exactly fit to take +care of yourself.” “There you are mistaken,” +said I, “I can take precious good care of myself; ay, and can +drive a precious hard bargain when I have occasion, but driving bargains +is a widely different thing from receiving gifts. I am going to +take my horse to Horncastle, and when there I shall endeavour to obtain +his full value - ay to the last penny.”<br> +<br> +“Horncastle!” said the landlord, “I have heard of +that place; you mustn’t be dreaming visions when you get there, +or they’ll steal the horse from under you. Well,” +said he, rising, “I shall not press you further on the subject +of the cheque. I intend, however, to put you under an obligation +to me.” He then rang the bell, and having ordered two fresh +glasses to be brought, he went out and presently returned with a small +pint bottle, which he uncorked with his own hand; then sitting down, +he said, “The wine that I bring here, is port of eighteen hundred +and eleven, the year of the comet, the best vintage on record; the wine +which we have been drinking,” he added, “is good, but not +to be compared with this, which I never sell, and which I am chary of. +When you have drunk some of it, I think you will own that I have conferred +an obligation upon you;” he then filled the glasses, the wine +which he poured out diffusing an aroma through the room; then motioning +me to drink, he raised his own glass to his lips, saying, “Come, +friend, I drink to your success at Horncastle.”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXX<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Triumphal Departure - No Season like Youth - Extreme Old Age - Beautiful +England - The Ratcatcher - A Misadventure.<br> +<br> +<br> +I departed from the inn much in the same fashion as I had come to it, +mounted on a splendid horse indifferently well caparisoned, with the +small valise attached to my crupper, in which, besides the few things +I had brought with me, was a small book of roads with a map which had +been presented to me by the landlord. I must not forget to state +that I did not ride out of the yard, but that my horse was brought to +me at the front door by old Bill, who insisted upon doing so, and who +refused a five-shilling piece which I offered him; and it will be as +well to let the reader know that the landlord shook me by the hand as +I mounted, and that the people attached to the inn, male and female +- my friend the postillion at the head - assembled before the house +to see me off, and gave me three cheers as I rode away. Perhaps +no person ever departed from an inn with more éclat or better +wishes; nobody looked at me askance, except two stage-coachmen who were +loitering about, one of whom said to his companion, “I say, Jim! +twig his portmanteau! a regular Newmarket turn-out, by - !”<br> +<br> +It was in the cool of the evening of a bright day - all the days of +that summer were bright - that I departed. I felt at first rather +melancholy at finding myself again launched into the wide world, and +leaving the friends whom I had lately made behind me; but by occasionally +trotting the horse, and occasionally singing a song of Romanvile, I +had dispelled the feeling of melancholy by the time I had proceeded +three miles down the main road. It was at the end of these three +miles, just opposite a milestone, that I struck into a cross road. +After riding about seven miles, threading what are called, in postillion +parlance, cross-country roads, I reached another high road, tending +to the east, along which I proceeded for a mile or two, when coming +to a small inn, about nine o’clock, I halted and put up for the +night.<br> +<br> +Early on the following morning I proceeded on my journey, but fearing +to gall the horse, I no longer rode him, but led him by the bridle, +until I came to a town at the distance of about ten miles from the place +where I had passed the night. Here I stayed during the heat of +the day, more on the horse’s account than my own, and towards +evening resumed my journey, leading the animal by the bridle as before; +and in this manner I proceeded for several days, travelling on an average +from twenty to twenty-five miles a day, always leading the animal, except +perhaps now and then of an evening, when, if I saw a good piece of road +before me, I would mount and put the horse into a trot, which the creature +seemed to enjoy as much as myself, showing his satisfaction by snorting +and neighing, whilst I gave utterance to my own exhilaration by shouts, +or by “the chi she is kaulo she soves pré lakie dumo,” +or by something else of the same kind in Romanvile.<br> +<br> +On the whole, I journeyed along very pleasantly, certainly quite as +pleasantly as I do at present, now that I am become a gentleman and +weigh sixteen stone, though some people would say that my present manner +of travelling is much the most preferable, riding as I now do, instead +of leading my horse; receiving the homage of ostlers instead of their +familiar nods; sitting down to dinner in the parlour of the best inn +I can find, instead of passing the brightest part of the day in the +kitchen of a village alehouse; carrying on my argument after dinner +on the subject of the corn-laws, with the best commercial gentlemen +on the road, instead of being glad, whilst sipping a pint of beer, to +get into conversation with blind trampers, or maimed Abraham sailors, +regaling themselves on half-pints at the said village hostelries. +Many people will doubtless say that things have altered wonderfully +with me for the better, and they would say right, provided I possessed +now what I then carried about with me in my journeys - the spirit of +youth. Youth is the only season for enjoyment, and the first twenty-five +years of one’s life are worth all the rest of the longest life +of man, even though those five-and-twenty be spent in penury and contempt, +and the rest in the possession of wealth, honours, respectability, ay, +and many of them in strength and health, such as will enable one to +ride forty miles before dinner, and over one’s pint of port - +for the best gentleman in the land should not drink a bottle - carry +on one’s argument, with gravity and decorum, with any commercial +gentleman who, responsive to one’s challenge, takes the part of +humanity and common sense against “protection” and the lord +of the land.<br> +<br> +Ah! there is nothing like youth - not that after-life is valueless. +Even in extreme old age one may get on very well, provided we will but +accept of the bounties of God. I met the other day an old man, +who asked me to drink. “I am not thirsty,” said I, +“and will not drink with you.” “Yes, you will,” +said the old man, “for I am this day one hundred years old; and +you will never again have an opportunity of drinking the health of a +man on his hundredth birthday.” So I broke my word, and +drank. “Yours is a wonderful age,” said I. “It +is a long time to look back to the beginning of it,” said the +old man; “yet, upon the whole, I am not sorry to have lived it +all.” “How have you passed your time?” said +I. “As well as I could,” said the old man; “always +enjoying a good thing when it came honestly within my reach; not forgetting +to praise God for putting it there.” “I suppose you +were fond of a glass of good ale when you were young?” “Yes,” +said the old man, “I was; and so, thank God, I am still.” +And he drank off a glass of ale.<br> +<br> +On I went in my journey, traversing England from west to east - ascending +and descending hills - crossing rivers by bridge and ferry - and passing +over extensive plains. What a beautiful country is England! +People run abroad to see beautiful countries, and leave their own behind +unknown, unnoticed - their own the most beautiful! And then, again, +what a country for adventures! especially to those who travel on foot, +or on horseback. People run abroad in quest of adventures, and +traverse Spain or Portugal on mule or on horseback; whereas there are +ten times more adventures to be met with in England than in Spain, Portugal, +or stupid Germany to boot. Witness the number of adventures narrated +in the present book - a book entirely devoted to England. Why, +there is not a chapter in the present book which is not full of adventures, +with the exception of the present one, and this is not yet terminated.<br> +<br> +After traversing two or three counties, I reached the confines of Lincolnshire. +During one particularly hot day I put up at a public-house, to which, +in the evening, came a party of harvesters to make merry, who, finding +me wandering about the house a stranger, invited me to partake of their +ale; so I drank with the harvesters, who sang me songs about rural life, +such as -<br> +<br> +<br> +“Sitting in the swale; and listening to the swindle of the flail, +as it sounds dub-a-dub on the corn, from the neighbouring barn.”<br> +<br> +<br> +In requital for which I treated them with a song, not of Romanvile, +but the song of “Sivory and the horse Grayman.” I +remained with them till it was dark, having, after sunset, entered into +deep discourse with a celebrated ratcatcher, who communicated to me +the secrets of his trade, saying, amongst other things, “When +you see the rats pouring out of their holes, and running up my hands +and arms, it’s not after me they comes, but after the oils I carries +about me they comes;” and who subsequently spoke in the most enthusiastic +manner of his trade, saying that it was the best trade in the world, +and most diverting, and that it was likely to last for ever; for whereas +all other kinds of vermin were fast disappearing from England, rats +were every day becoming more abundant. I had quitted this good +company, and having mounted my horse, was making my way towards a town +at about six miles’ distance, at a swinging trot, my thoughts +deeply engaged on what I had gathered from the ratcatcher, when all +on a sudden a light glared upon the horse’s face, who purled round +in great terror, and flung me out of the saddle, as from a sling, or +with as much violence as the horse Grayman, in the ballad, flings Sivord +the Snareswayne. I fell upon the ground - felt a kind of crashing +about my neck - and forthwith became senseless.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXXI<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +A Novel Situation - The Elderly Individual - The Surgeon - A Kind Offer +- Chimerical Ideas - Strange Dream.<br> +<br> +<br> +How long I remained senseless I cannot say, for a considerable time, +I believe; at length, opening my eyes, I found myself lying on a bed +in a middle-sized chamber, lighted by a candle, which stood on a table +- an elderly man stood near me, and a yet more elderly female was holding +a phial of very pungent salts to my olfactory organ. I attempted +to move, but felt very stiff - my right arm appeared nearly paralysed, +and there was a strange dull sensation in my head. “You +had better remain still, young man,” said the elderly individual, +“the surgeon will be here presently; I have sent a message for +him to the neighbouring village.” “Where am I?” +said I, “and what has happened?” “You are in +my house,” said the old man, “and you have been flung from +a horse. I am sorry to say that I was the cause. As I was +driving home, the lights in my gig frightened the animal.” +“Where is the horse?” said I. “Below, in my +stable,” said the elderly individual. “I saw you fall, +but knowing that on account of my age I could be of little use to you, +I instantly hurried home, the accident did not occur more than a furlong +off, and procuring the assistance of my lad, and two or three neighbouring +cottagers, I returned to the spot where you were lying senseless. +We raised you up, and brought you here. My lad then went in quest +of the horse, who had run away as we drew nigh. When we saw him +first he was standing near you; he caught him with some difficulty, +and brought him home. What are you about?” said the old +man, as I strove to get off the bed. “I want to see the +horse,” said I. “I entreat you to be still,” +said the old man; “the horse is safe, I assure you.” +“I am thinking about his knees,” said I. “Instead +of thinking about your horse’s knees,” said the old man, +“be thankful that you have not broke your own neck.” +“You do not talk wisely,” said I; “when a man’s +neck is broke, he is provided for; but when his horse’s knees +are broke, he is a lost jockey, that is, if he has nothing but his horse +to depend upon. A pretty figure I should cut at Horncastle, mounted +on a horse blood-raw at the knees.” “Oh, you are going +to Horncastle,” said the old man, seriously, “then I can +sympathize with you in your anxiety about your horse, being a Lincolnshire +man, and the son of one who bred horses. I will myself go down +into the stable, and examine into the condition of your horse, so pray +remain quiet till I return; it would certainly be a terrible thing to +appear at Horncastle on a broken-kneed horse.”<br> +<br> +He left the room and returned in about ten minutes, followed by another +person. “Your horse is safe,” said he, “and +his knees are unblemished; not a hair ruffled. He is a fine animal, +and will do credit to Horncastle; but here is the surgeon come to examine +into your own condition.” The surgeon was a man about thirty-five, +thin, and rather tall; his face was long and pale, and his hair, which +was light, was carefully combed back as much as possible from his forehead. +He was dressed very neatly, and spoke in a very precise tone. +“Allow me to feel your pulse, friend?” said he, taking me +by the right wrist. I uttered a cry, for at the motion which he +caused a thrill of agony darted through my arm. “I hope +your arm is not broke, my friend,” said the surgeon, “allow +me to see; first of all, we must divest you of this cumbrous frock.”<br> +<br> +The frock was removed with some difficulty, and then the upper vestments +of my frame, with more difficulty still. The surgeon felt my arm, +moving it up and down, causing me unspeakable pain. “There +is no fracture,” said he, at last, “but a contusion - a +violent contusion. I am told you were going to Horncastle; I am +afraid you will be hardly able to ride your horse thither in time to +dispose of him; however, we shall see - your arm must be bandaged, friend; +after which I shall bleed you, and administer a composing draught.”<br> +<br> +To be short, the surgeon did as he proposed, and when he had administered +the composing draught, he said, “Be of good cheer; I should not +be surprised if you are yet in time for Horncastle.” He +then departed with the master of the house, and the woman, leaving me +to my repose. I soon began to feel drowsy, and was just composing +myself to slumber, lying on my back, as the surgeon had advised me, +when I heard steps ascending the stairs, and in a moment more the surgeon +entered again, followed by the master of the house. “I hope +I don’t disturb you,” said the former; “my reason +for returning is to relieve your mind from any anxiety with respect +to your horse. I am by no means sure that you will be able, owing +to your accident, to reach Horncastle in time: to quiet you, however, +I will buy your horse for any reasonable sum. I have been down +to the stable, and approve of his figure. What do you ask for +him?” “This is a strange time of night,” said +I, “to come to me about purchasing my horse, and I am hardly in +a fitting situation to be applied to about such a matter. What +do you want him for?” “For my own use,” said +the surgeon; “I am a professional man, and am obliged to be continually +driving about; I cover at least one hundred and fifty miles every week.” +“He will never answer your purpose,” said I, “he is +not a driving horse, and was never between shafts in his life; he is +for riding, more especially for trotting, at which he has few equals.” +“It matters not to me whether he is for riding or driving,” +said the surgeon, “sometimes I ride, sometimes drive; so, if we +can come to terms, I will buy him, though remember it is chiefly to +remove any anxiety from your mind about him.” “This +is no time for bargaining,” said I, “if you wish to have +the horse for a hundred guineas, you may; if not - ” “A +hundred guineas!” said the surgeon, “my good friend, you +must surely be light-headed; allow me to feel your pulse,” and +he attempted to feel my left wrist. “I am not light-headed,” +said I, “and I require no one to feel my pulse; but I should be +light-headed if I were to sell my horse for less than I have demanded; +but I have a curiosity to know what you would be willing to offer.” +“Thirty pounds,” said the surgeon, “is all I can afford +to give; and that is a great deal for a country surgeon to offer for +a horse.” “Thirty pounds!” said I, “why, +he cost me nearly double that sum. To tell you the truth, I am +afraid that you want to take advantage of my situation.” +“Not in the least, friend,” said the surgeon, “not +in the least; I only wished to set your mind at rest about your horse; +but as you think he is worth more than I can afford to offer, take him +to Horncastle by all means; I will do my best to cure you in time. +Good night, I will see you again on the morrow.” Thereupon +he once more departed with the master of the house. “A sharp +one,” I heard him say, with a laugh, as the door closed upon him.<br> +<br> +Left to myself, I again essayed to compose myself to rest, but for some +time in vain. I had been terribly shaken by my fall, and had subsequently, +owing to the incision of the surgeon’s lancet, been deprived of +much of the vital fluid; it is when the body is in such a state that +the merest trifles affect and agitate the mind; no wonder, then, that +the return of the surgeon and the master of the house for the purpose +of inquiring whether I would sell my horse, struck me as being highly +extraordinary, considering the hour of the night, and the situation +in which they knew me to be. What could they mean by such conduct +- did they wish to cheat me of the animal? “Well, well,” +said I, “if they did, what matters, they found their match; yes, +yes,” said I, “but I am in their power, perhaps” - +but I instantly dismissed the apprehension which came into my mind, +with a pooh, nonsense! In a little time, however, a far more foolish +and chimerical idea began to disturb me - the idea of being flung from +my horse; was I not disgraced for ever as a horseman by being flung +from my horse? Assuredly, I thought; and the idea of being disgraced +as a horseman, operating on my nervous system, caused me very acute +misery. “After all,” said I to myself, “it was +perhaps the contemptible opinion which the surgeon must have formed +of my equestrian powers, which induced him to offer to take my horse +off my hands; he perhaps thought I was unable to manage a horse, and +therefore in pity returned in the dead of night to offer to purchase +the animal which had flung me;” and then the thought that the +surgeon had conceived a contemptible opinion of my equestrian powers, +caused me the acutest misery, and continued tormenting me until some +other idea (I have forgot what it was, but doubtless equally foolish) +took possession of my mind. At length, brought on by the agitation +of my spirits, there came over me the same feeling of horror that I +had experienced of old when I was a boy, and likewise of late within +the dingle; it was, however, not so violent as it had been on those +occasions, and I struggled manfully against it, until by degrees it +passed away, and then I fell asleep; and in my sleep I had an ugly dream. +I dreamt that I had died of the injuries I had received from my fall, +and that no sooner had my soul departed from my body than it entered +that of a quadruped, even my own horse in the stable - in a word, I +was, to all intents and purposes, my own steed; and as I stood in the +stable chewing hay (and I remember that the hay was exceedingly tough), +the door opened, and the surgeon who had attended me came in. +“My good animal,” said he, “as your late master has +scarcely left enough to pay for the expenses of his funeral, and nothing +to remunerate me for my trouble, I shall make bold to take possession +of you. If your paces are good, I shall keep you for my own riding; +if not, I shall take you to Horncastle, your original destination.” +He then bridled and saddled me, and, leading me out, mounted, and then +trotted me up and down before the house, at the door of which the old +man, who now appeared to be dressed in regular jockey fashion, was standing. +“I like his paces well,” said the surgeon; “I think +I shall take him for my own use.” “And what am I to +have for all the trouble his master caused me?” said my late entertainer, +on whose countenance I now observed, for the first time, a diabolical +squint. “The consciousness of having done your duty to a +fellow-creature in succouring him in a time of distress, must be your +reward,” said the surgeon. “Pretty gammon, truly,” +said my late entertainer; “what would you say if I were to talk +in that way to you? Come, unless you choose to behave jonnock, +I shall take the bridle and lead the horse back into the stable.” +“Well,” said the surgeon, “we are old friends, and +I don’t wish to dispute with you, so I’ll tell you what +I will do; I will ride the animal to Horncastle, and we will share what +he fetches like brothers.” “Good,” said the +old man, “but if you say that you have sold him for less than +a hundred, I shan’t consider you jonnock; remember what the young +fellow said - that young fellow - ” I heard no more, for +the next moment I found myself on a broad road leading, as I supposed, +in the direction of Horncastle, the surgeon still in the saddle, and +my legs moving at a rapid trot. “Get on,” said the +surgeon, jerking my mouth with the bit; whereupon, full of rage, I instantly +set off at a full gallop, determined, if possible, to dash my rider +to the earth. The surgeon, however, kept his seat, and, so far +from attempting to abate my speed, urged me on to greater efforts with +a stout stick, which methought he held in his hand. In vain did +I rear and kick, attempting to get rid of my foe; but the surgeon remained +as saddle-fast as ever the Maugrabin sorcerer in the Arabian tale what +time he rode the young prince transformed into a steed to his enchanted +palace in the wilderness. At last, as I was still madly dashing +on, panting and blowing, and had almost given up all hope, I saw at +a distance before me a heap of stones by the side of the road, probably +placed there for the purpose of repairing it; a thought appeared to +strike me - I will shy at those stones, and, if I can’t get rid +of him so, resign myself to my fate. So I increased my speed, +till arriving within about ten yards of the heap, I made a desperate +start, turning half round with nearly the velocity of a mill-stone. +Oh, the joy I experienced when I felt my enemy canted over my neck, +and saw him lying senseless in the road. “I have you now +in my power,” I said, or rather neighed, as, going up to my prostrate +foe, I stood over him. “Suppose I were to rear now, and +let my fore feet fall upon you, what would your life be worth? that +is, supposing you are not killed already; but lie there, I will do you +no further harm, but trot to Horncastle without a rider, and when there +- ” and without further reflection off I trotted in the direction +of Horncastle, but had not gone far before my bridle, falling from my +neck, got entangled with my off fore foot. I felt myself falling, +a thrill of agony shot through me - my knees would be broken, and what +should I do at Horncastle with a pair of broken knees? I struggled, +but I could not disengage my off fore foot, and downward I fell, but +before I had reached the ground I awoke, and found myself half out of +bed, my bandaged arm in considerable pain, and my left hand just touching +the floor.<br> +<br> +With some difficulty I readjusted myself in bed. It was now early +morning, and the first rays of the sun were beginning to penetrate the +white curtains of a window on my left, which probably looked into the +garden, as I caught a glimpse or two of the leaves of trees through +a small uncovered part at the side. For some time I felt uneasy +and anxious, my spirits being in a strange fluttering state. At +last my eyes fell upon a small row of tea-cups seemingly of china, which +stood on a mantelpiece exactly fronting the bottom of the bed. +The sight of these objects, I know not why, soothed and pacified me; +I kept my eyes fixed upon them, as I lay on my back on the bed, with +my head upon the pillow, till at last I fell into a calm and refreshing +sleep.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXXII<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The Morning after a Fall - The Teapot - Unpretending Hospitality - The +Chinese Student.<br> +<br> +<br> +It might be about eight o’clock in the morning when I was awakened +by the entrance of the old man. “How have you rested?” +said he, coming up to the bedside, and looking me in the face. +“Well,” said I, “and I feel much better, but I am +still very sore.” I surveyed him now for the first time +with attention. He was dressed in a sober-coloured suit, and was +apparently between sixty and seventy. In stature he was rather +above the middle height, but with a slight stoop; his features were +placid, and expressive of much benevolence, but, as it appeared to me, +with rather a melancholy cast - as I gazed upon them, I felt ashamed +that I should ever have conceived in my brain a vision like that of +the preceding night, in which he appeared in so disadvantageous a light. +At length he said, “It is now time for you to take some refreshment. +I hear my old servant coming up with your breakfast.” In +a moment the elderly female entered with a tray, on which was some bread +and butter, a teapot and cup. The cup was of common blue earthenware, +but the pot was of china, curiously fashioned, and seemingly of great +antiquity. The old man poured me out a cupful of tea, and then, +with the assistance of the woman, raised me higher, and propped me up +with the pillows. I ate and drank; when the pot was emptied of +its liquid (it did not contain much), I raised it up with my left hand +to inspect it. The sides were covered with curious characters, +seemingly hieroglyphics. After surveying them for some time, I +replaced it upon the tray. “You seem fond of china,” +said I, to the old man, after the servant had retired with the breakfast +things, and I had returned to my former posture; “you have china +on the mantelpiece, and that was a remarkable teapot out of which I +have just been drinking.”<br> +<br> +The old man fixed his eyes intently on me, and methought the expression +of his countenance became yet more melancholy. “Yes,” +said he, at last, “I am fond of china - I have reason to be fond +of china - but for china I should - ” and here he sighed again.<br> +<br> +“You value it for the quaintness and singularity of its form,” +said I; “it appears to be less adapted for real use than our own +pottery.”<br> +<br> +“I care little about its form,” said the old man; “I +care for it simply on account of - however, why talk to you on the subject +which can have no possible interest to you? I expect the surgeon +here presently.”<br> +<br> +“I do not like that surgeon at all,” said I; “how +strangely he behaved last night, coming back, when I was just falling +asleep, to ask me if I would sell my horse.”<br> +<br> +The old man smiled. “He has but one failing,” said +he, “an itch for horse-dealing; but for that he might be a much +richer man than he is; he is continually buying and exchanging horses, +and generally finds himself a loser by his bargains: but he is a worthy +creature, and skilful in his profession - it is well for you that you +are under his care.”<br> +<br> +The old man then left me, and in about an hour returned with the surgeon, +who examined me and reported favourably as to my case. He spoke +to me with kindness and feeling, and did not introduce the subject of +the horse. I asked him whether he thought I should be in time +for the fair. “I saw some people making their way thither +to-day,” said he; “the fair lasts three weeks, and it has +just commenced. Yes, I think I may promise you that you will be +in time for the very heat of it. In a few days you will be able +to mount your saddle with your arm in a sling, but you must by no means +appear with your arm in a sling at Horncastle, as people would think +that your horse had flung you, and that you wanted to dispose of him +because he was a vicious brute. You must, by all means, drop the +sling before you get to Horncastle.”<br> +<br> +For three days I kept my apartment by the advice of the surgeon. +I passed my time as I best could. Stretched on my bed, I either +abandoned myself to reflection, or listened to the voices of the birds +in the neighbouring garden. Sometimes, as I lay awake at night, +I would endeavour to catch the tick of a clock, which methought sounded +from some distant part of the house.<br> +<br> +The old man visited me twice or thrice every day to inquire into my +state. His words were few on these occasions, and he did not stay +long. Yet his voice and his words were kind. What surprised +me most in connection with this individual was, the delicacy of conduct +which he exhibited in not letting a word proceed from his lips which +could testify curiosity respecting who I was, or whence I came. +All he knew of me was, that I had been flung from my horse on my way +to a fair for the purpose of disposing of the animal; and that I was +now his guest. I might be a common horse-dealer for what he knew, +yet I was treated by him with all the attention which I could have expected, +had I been an alderman of Boston’s heir, and known to him as such. +The county in which I am now, thought I at last, must be either extraordinarily +devoted to hospitality, or this old host of mine must be an extraordinary +individual. On the evening of the fourth day, feeling tired of +my confinement, I put my clothes on in the best manner I could, and +left the chamber. Descending a flight of stairs, I reached a kind +of quadrangle, from which branched two or three passages; one of these +I entered, which had a door at the farther end, and one on each side; +the one to the left standing partly open, I entered it, and found myself +in a middle-sized room with a large window, or rather glass-door, which +looked into a garden, and which stood open. There was nothing +remarkable in this room, except a large quantity of china. There +was china on the mantelpiece - china on two tables, and a small beaufet, +which stood opposite the glass-door, was covered with china - there +were cups, teapots, and vases of various forms, and on all of them I +observed characters - not a teapot, not a tea-cup, not a vase of whatever +form or size, but appeared to possess hieroglyphics on some part or +other. After surveying these articles for some time with no little +interest, I passed into the garden, in which there were small parterres +of flowers, and two or three trees, and which, where the house did not +abut, was bounded by a wall; turning to the right by a walk by the side +of a house, I passed by a door - probably the one I had seen at the +end of the passage - and arrived at another window similar to that through +which I had come, and which also stood open; I was about to pass through +it, when I heard the voice of my entertainer exclaiming, “Is that +you? pray come in.”<br> +<br> +I entered the room, which seemed to be a counterpart of the one which +I had just left. It was of the same size, had the same kind of +furniture, and appeared to be equally well stocked with china; one prominent +article it possessed, however, which the other room did not exhibit +- namely, a clock, which, with its pendulum moving tick-a-tick, hung +against the wall opposite to the door, the sight of which made me conclude +that the sound which methought I had heard in the stillness of the night +was not an imaginary one. There it hung on the wall, with its +pendulum moving tick-a-tick. The old gentleman was seated in an +easy chair a little way into the room, having the glass-door on his +right hand. On a table before him lay a large open volume, in +which I observed Roman letters as well as characters. A few inches +beyond the book on the table, covered all over with hieroglyphics, stood +a china vase. The eyes of the old man were fixed upon it.<br> +<br> +“Sit down,” said he, motioning me with his hand to a stool +close by, but without taking his eyes from the vase.<br> +<br> +“I can’t make it out,” said he, at last, removing +his eyes from the vase, and leaning back on the chair, “I can’t +make it out.”<br> +<br> +“I wish I could assist you,” said I.<br> +<br> +“Assist me,” said the old man, looking at me with a half +smile.<br> +<br> +“Yes,” said I, “but I don’t understand Chinese.”<br> +<br> +“I suppose not,” said the old man, with another slight smile; +“but - but - ”<br> +<br> +“Pray proceed,” said I.<br> +<br> +“I wished to ask you,” said the old man, “how you +knew that the characters on yon piece of crockery were Chinese; or, +indeed, that there was such a language?”<br> +<br> +“I knew the crockery was china,” said I, “and naturally +enough supposed what was written upon it to be Chinese; as for there +being such a language - the English have a language, the French have +a language, and why not the Chinese?”<br> +<br> +“May I ask you a question?”<br> +<br> +“As many as you like.”<br> +<br> +“Do you know any language besides English?”<br> +<br> +“Yes,” said I, “I know a little of two or three.”<br> +<br> +“May I ask their names?”<br> +<br> +“Why not?” said I, “I know a little French.”<br> +<br> +“Anything else?”<br> +<br> +“Yes, a little Welsh, and a little Haik.”<br> +<br> +“What is Haik?”<br> +<br> +“Armenian.”<br> +<br> +“I am glad to see you in my house,” said the old man, shaking +me by the hand; “how singular that one coming as you did should +know Armenian!”<br> +<br> +“Not more singular,” said I, “than that one living +in such a place as this should know Chinese. How came you to acquire +it?”<br> +<br> +The old man looked at me, and sighed. “I beg pardon,” +said I, “for asking what is, perhaps, an impertinent question; +I have not imitated your own delicacy; you have never asked me a question +without first desiring permission, and here I have been days and nights +in your house an intruder on your hospitality, and you have never so +much as asked me who I am.”<br> +<br> +“In forbearing to do that,” said the old man, “I merely +obeyed the Chinese precept, ‘Ask no questions of a guest;’ +it is written on both sides of the teapot out of which you have had +your tea.”<br> +<br> +“I wish I knew Chinese,” said I. “Is it a difficult +language to acquire?”<br> +<br> +“I have reason to think so,” said the old man. “I +have been occupied upon it five-and-thirty years, and I am still very +imperfectly acquainted with it; at least, I frequently find upon my +crockery sentences the meaning of which to me is very dark, though it +is true these sentences are mostly verses, which are, of course, more +difficult to understand than mere prose.”<br> +<br> +“Are your Chinese studies,” said I, “confined to crockery +literature?”<br> +<br> +“Entirely,” said the old man; “I read nothing else.”<br> +<br> +“I have heard,” said I, “that the Chinese have no +letters, but that for every word they have a separate character - is +it so?”<br> +<br> +“For every word they have a particular character,” said +the old man; “though, to prevent confusion, they have arranged +their words under two hundred and fourteen what we should call radicals, +but which they call keys. As we arrange all our words in a dictionary +under twenty-four letters, so do they arrange all their words, or characters, +under two hundred and fourteen radical signs; the simplest radicals +being the first, and the more complex the last.”<br> +<br> +“Does the Chinese resemble any of the European languages in words?” +said I.<br> +<br> +“I am scarcely competent to inform you,” said the old man; +“but I believe not.”<br> +<br> +“What does that character represent?” said I, pointing to +one on the vase.<br> +<br> +“A knife,” said the old man, “that character is one +of the simplest radicals or keys.”<br> +<br> +“And what is the sound of it?” said I.<br> +<br> +“Tau,” said the old man.<br> +<br> +“Tau!” said I; “tau!”<br> +<br> +“A strange word for a knife is it not?” said the old man.<br> +<br> +“Tawse!” said I; “tawse!”<br> +<br> +“What is tawse?” said the old man.<br> +<br> +“You were never at school at Edinburgh, I suppose?”<br> +<br> +“Never,” said the old man.<br> +<br> +“That accounts for your not knowing the meaning of tawse,” +said I; “had you received the rudiments of a classical education +at the High School, you would have known the meaning of tawse full well. +It is a leathern thong, with which refractory urchins are recalled to +a sense of their duty by the dominie. Tau - tawse - how singular!”<br> +<br> +“I cannot see what the two words have in common, except a slight +agreement in sound.”<br> +<br> +“You will see the connection,” said I, “when I inform +you that the thong, from the middle to the bottom, is cut or slit into +two or three parts, from which slits or cuts, unless I am very much +mistaken, it derives its name - tawse, a thong with slits or cuts, used +for chastising disorderly urchins at the High School, from the French +tailler, to cut; evidently connected with the Chinese tau, a knife - +how very extraordinary!”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXXIII<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Convalescence - The Surgeon’s Bill - Letter of Recommendation +- Commencement of the Old Man’s History.<br> +<br> +<br> +Two days - three days passed away - and I still remained at the house +of my hospitable entertainer; my bruised limb rapidly recovering the +power of performing its functions. I passed my time agreeably +enough, sometimes in my chamber, communing with my own thoughts; sometimes +in the stable, attending to, and not unfrequently conversing with, my +horse; and at meal-time - for I seldom saw him at any other - discoursing +with the old gentleman, sometimes on the Chinese vocabulary, sometimes +on Chinese syntax, and once or twice on English horseflesh; though on +this latter subject, notwithstanding his descent from a race of horse-traders, +he did not enter into with much alacrity. As a small requital +for his kindness, I gave him one day, after dinner, unasked, a brief +account of my history and pursuits. He listened with attention; +and when it was concluded, thanked me for the confidence which I had +reposed in him. “Such conduct,” said he, “deserves +a return. I will tell you my own history; it is brief, but may +perhaps not prove uninteresting to you - though the relation of it will +give me some pain.” “Pray, then, do not recite it,” +said I. “Yes,” said the old man, “I will tell +you, for I wish you to know it.” He was about to begin, +when he was interrupted by the arrival of the surgeon. The surgeon +examined into the state of my bruised limb, and told me, what indeed +I already well knew, that it was rapidly improving. “You +will not even require a sling,” said he, “to ride to Horncastle. +When do you propose going?” he demanded. “When do +you think I may venture?” I replied. “I think, if +you are a tolerably good horseman, you may mount the day after to-morrow,” +answered the medical man. “By-the-bye, are you acquainted +with anybody at Horncastle?” “With no living soul,” +I answered. “Then you would scarcely find stable-room for +your horse. But I am happy to be able to assist you. I have +a friend there who keeps a small inn, and who, during the time of the +fair, keeps a stall vacant for any quadruped I may bring, until he knows +whether I am coming or not. I will give you a letter to him, and +he will see after the accommodation of your horse. To-morrow I +will pay you a farewell visit, and bring you the letter.” +“Thank you,” said I; “and do not forget to bring your +bill.” The surgeon looked at the old man, who gave him a +peculiar nod. “Oh!” said he, in reply to me, “for +the little service I have rendered you, I require no remuneration. +You are in my friend’s house, and he and I understand each other.” +“I never receive such favours,” said I, “as you have +rendered me, without remunerating them; therefore I shall expect your +bill.” “Oh! just as you please,” said the surgeon; +and shaking me by the hand more warmly than he had hitherto done, he +took his leave.<br> +<br> +On the evening of the next day, the last which I spent with my kind +entertainer, I sat at tea with him in a little summer-house in his garden, +partially shaded by the boughs of a large fig-tree. The surgeon +had shortly before paid me his farewell visit, and had brought me the +letter of introduction to his friend at Horncastle, and also his bill, +which I found anything but extravagant. After we had each respectively +drank the contents of two cups - and it may not be amiss here to inform +the reader that though I took cream with my tea, as I always do when +I can procure that addition, the old man, like most people bred up in +the country, drank his without it - he thus addressed me:- “I +am, as I told you on the night of your accident, the son of a breeder +of horses, a respectable and honest man. When I was about twenty +he died, leaving me, his only child, a comfortable property, consisting +of about two hundred acres of land and some fifteen hundred pounds in +money. My mother had died about three years previously. +I felt the death of my mother keenly, but that of my father less than +was my duty; indeed, truth compels me to acknowledge that I scarcely +regretted his death. The cause of this want of proper filial feeling +was the opposition which I had experienced from him in an affair which +deeply concerned me. I had formed an attachment for a young female +in the neighbourhood, who, though poor, was of highly respectable birth, +her father having been a curate of the Established Church. She +was, at the time of which I am speaking, an orphan, having lost both +her parents, and supported herself by keeping a small school. +My attachment was returned, and we had pledged our vows, but my father, +who could not reconcile himself to her lack of fortune, forbade our +marriage in the most positive terms. He was wrong, for she was +a fortune in herself - amiable and accomplished. Oh! I cannot +tell you all she was - ” and here the old man drew his hand across +his eyes. “By the death of my father, the only obstacle +to our happiness appeared to be removed. We agreed, therefore, +that our marriage should take place within the course of a year; and +I forthwith commenced enlarging my house and getting my affairs in order. +Having been left in the easy circumstances which I have described, I +determined to follow no business, but to pass my life in a strictly +domestic manner, and to be very, very happy. Amongst other property +derived from my father were several horses, which I disposed of in this +neighbourhood, with the exception of two remarkably fine ones, which +I determined to take to the next fair at Horncastle, the only place +where I expected to be able to obtain what I considered to be their +full value. At length the time arrived for the commencement of +the fair, which was within three months of the period which my beloved +and myself had fixed upon for the celebration of our nuptials. +To the fair I went, a couple of trusty men following me with the horses. +I soon found a purchaser for the animals, a portly, plausible person, +of about forty, dressed in a blue riding coat, brown top boots, and +leather breeches. There was a strange-looking urchin with him, +attired in nearly similar fashion, with a beam in one of his eyes, who +called him father. The man paid me for the purchase in bank-notes +- three fifty-pound notes for the two horses. As we were about +to take leave of each other, he suddenly produced another fifty-pound +note, inquiring whether I could change it, complaining, at the same +time, of the difficulty of procuring change in the fair. As I +happened to have plenty of small money in my possession, and as I felt +obliged to him for having purchased my horses at what I considered to +be a good price, I informed him that I should be very happy to accommodate +him; so I changed him the note, and he, having taken possession of the +horses, went his way, and I myself returned home.<br> +<br> +“A month passed; during this time I paid away two of the notes +which I had received at Horncastle from the dealer - one of them in +my immediate neighbourhood, and the other at a town about fifteen miles +distant, to which I had repaired for the purpose of purchasing some +furniture. All things seemed to be going on most prosperously, +and I felt quite happy, when one morning, as I was overlooking some +workmen who were employed about my house, I was accosted by a constable, +who informed me that he was sent to request my immediate appearance +before a neighbouring bench of magistrates. Concluding that I +was merely summoned on some unimportant business connected with the +neighbourhood, I felt no surprise, and forthwith departed in company +with the officer. The demeanour of the man upon the way struck +me as somewhat singular. I had frequently spoken to him before, +and had always found him civil and respectful, but he was now reserved +and sullen, and replied to two or three questions which I put to him +in anything but a courteous manner. On arriving at the place where +the magistrates were sitting - an inn at a small town about two miles +distant - I found a more than usual number of people assembled, who +appeared to be conversing with considerable eagerness. At sight +of me they became silent, but crowded after me as I followed the man +into the magistrates’ room. There I found the tradesman +to whom I had paid the note for the furniture at the town fifteen miles +off in attendance, accompanied by an agent of the Bank of England; the +former, it seems, had paid the note into a provincial bank, the proprietors +of which, discovering it to be a forgery, had forthwith written up to +the Bank of England, who had sent down their agent to investigate the +matter. A third individual stood beside them - the person in my +own immediate neighbourhood to whom I had paid the second note; this, +by some means or other, before the coming down of the agent, had found +its way to the same provincial bank, and also being pronounced a forgery, +it had speedily been traced to the person to whom I had paid it. +It was owing to the apparition of this second note that the agent had +determined, without further inquiry, to cause me to be summoned before +the rural tribunal.<br> +<br> +“In a few words the magistrates’ clerk gave me to understand +the state of the case. I was filled with surprise and consternation. +I knew myself to be perfectly innocent of any fraudulent intention, +but at the time of which I am speaking it was a matter fraught with +the greatest danger to be mixed up, however innocently, with the passing +of false money. The law with respect to forgery was terribly severe, +and the innocent as well as the guilty occasionally suffered. +Of this I was not altogether ignorant; unfortunately, however, in my +transactions with the stranger, the idea of false notes being offered +to me, and my being brought into trouble by means of them, never entered +my mind. Recovering myself a little, I stated that the notes in +question were two of three notes which I had received at Horncastle, +for a pair of horses, which it was well known I had carried thither.<br> +<br> +“Thereupon, I produced from my pocket-book the third note, which +was forthwith pronounced a forgery. I had scarcely produced the +third note, when I remembered the one which I had changed for the Horncastle +dealer, and with the remembrance came the almost certain conviction +that it was also a forgery; I was tempted for a moment to produce it, +and to explain the circumstance - would to God I had done so! - but +shame at the idea of having been so wretchedly duped prevented me, and +the opportunity was lost. I must confess that the agent of the +bank behaved, upon the whole, in a very handsome manner; he said that +as it was quite evident that I had disposed of certain horses at the +fair, it was very probable that I might have received the notes in question +in exchange for them, and that he was willing, as he had received a +very excellent account of my general conduct, to press the matter no +farther, that is, provided - ” And here he stopped. +Thereupon, one of the three magistrates, who were present, asked me +whether I chanced to have any more of these spurious notes in my possession. +He certainly had a right to ask the question; but there was something +peculiar in his tone-insinuating suspicion. It is certainly difficult +to judge of the motives which rule a person’s conduct, but I cannot +help imagining that he was somewhat influenced in his behaviour on that +occasion, which was anything but friendly, by my having refused to sell +him the horses at a price less than that which I expected to get at +the fair; be this as it may, the question filled me with embarrassment, +and I bitterly repented not having at first been more explicit. +Thereupon the magistrate in the same kind of tone, demanded to see my +pocket-book. I knew that to demur would be useless, and produced +it, and therewith, amongst two or three small country notes, appeared +the fourth which I had received from the Horncastle dealer. The +agent took it up and examined it with attention. ‘Well, +is it a genuine note?’ asked the magistrate. ‘I am +sorry to say that it is not,’ said the agent; ‘it is a forgery, +like the other three.’ The magistrate shrugged his shoulders, +as indeed did several people in the room. ‘A regular dealer +in forged notes,’ said a person close behind me; ‘who would +have thought it?’<br> +<br> +“Seeing matters begin to look so serious, I aroused myself, and +endeavoured to speak in my own behalf, giving a candid account of the +manner in which I became possessed of the notes; but my explanation +did not appear to meet much credit; the magistrate, to whom I have in +particular alluded, asked, why I had not at once stated the fact of +my having received a fourth note; and the agent, though in a very quiet +tone, observed that he could not help thinking it somewhat strange that +I should have changed a note of so much value for a perfect stranger, +even supposing that he had purchased my horses, and had paid me their +value in hard cash; and I noticed that he laid particular emphasis on +the last words. I might have observed that I was an inexperienced +young man, who, meaning no harm myself, suspected none in others, but +I was confused, stunned, and my tongue seemed to cleave to the roof +of my mouth. The men who had taken my horses to Horncastle, and +for whom I had sent, as they lived close at hand, now arrived, but the +evidence which they could give was anything but conclusive in my favour; +they had seen me in company with an individual at Horncastle, to whom, +by my orders, they had delivered certain horses, but they had seen no +part of the money transaction; the fellow, whether from design or not, +having taken me aside into a retired place, where he had paid me the +three spurious notes, and induced me to change the fourth, which throughout +the affair was what bore most materially against me. How matters +might have terminated I do not know, I might have gone to prison, and +I might have been - just then, when I most needed a friend, and least +expected to find one, for though amongst those present there were several +who were my neighbours, and who had professed friendship for me, none +of them when they saw that I needed support and encouragement, came +forward to yield me any, but, on the contrary, appeared by their looks +to enjoy my terror and confusion - just then a friend entered the room +in the person of the surgeon of the neighbourhood, the father of him +who has attended you; he was not on very intimate terms with me, but +he had occasionally spoken to me, and had attended my father in his +dying illness, and chancing to hear that I was in trouble, he now hastened +to assist me. After a short preamble, in which he apologized to +the bench for interfering, he begged to be informed of the state of +the case, whereupon the matter was laid before him in all its details. +He was not slow in taking a fair view of it, and spoke well and eloquently +in my behalf - insisting on the improbability that a person of my habits +and position would be wilfully mixed up with a transaction like that +of which it appeared I was suspected - adding, that as he was fully +convinced of my innocence, he was ready to enter into any surety with +respect to my appearance at any time to answer anything which might +be laid to my charge. This last observation had particular effect, +and as he was a person universally respected, both for his skill in +his profession and his general demeanour, people began to think that +a person in whom he took an interest could scarcely be concerned in +anything criminal, and though my friend the magistrate - I call him +so ironically - made two or three demurs, it was at last agreed between +him and his brethren of the bench, that, for the present, I should be +merely called upon to enter into my own recognizance for the sum of +two hundred pounds, to appear whenever it should be deemed requisite +to enter into any further investigation of the matter.<br> +<br> +“So I was permitted to depart from the tribunal of petty justice +without handcuffs, and uncollared by a constable; but people looked +coldly and suspiciously upon me. The first thing I did was to +hasten to the house of my beloved, in order to inform her of every circumstance +attending the transaction. I found her, but how? A malicious +female individual had hurried to her with a distorted tale, to the effect +that I had been taken up as an utterer of forged notes; that an immense +number had been found in my possession; that I was already committed, +and that probably I should be executed. My affianced one tenderly +loved me, and her constitution was delicate; fit succeeded fit; she +broke a blood-vessel, and I found her deluged in blood; the surgeon +had been sent for; he came and afforded her every possible relief. +I was distracted; he bade me have hope, but I observed he looked very +grave.<br> +<br> +“By the skill of the surgeon, the poor girl was saved in the first +instance from the arms of death, and for a few weeks she appeared to +be rapidly recovering; by degrees, however, she became melancholy; a +worm preyed upon her spirit; a slow fever took possession of her frame. +I subsequently learned that the same malicious female who had first +carried to her an exaggerated account of the affair, and who was a distant +relative of her own, frequently visited her, and did all in her power +to excite her fears with respect to its eventual termination. +Time passed on in a very wretched manner. Our friend the surgeon +showing to us both every mark of kindness and attention.<br> +<br> +“It was owing to this excellent man that my innocence was eventually +established. Having been called to a town on the borders of Yorkshire +to a medical consultation, he chanced to be taking a glass of wine with +the landlord of the inn at which he stopped, when the waiter brought +in a note to be changed, saying ‘That the Quaker gentleman, who +had been for some days in the house, and was about to depart, had sent +it to be changed, in order that he might pay his bill.’ +The landlord took the note, and looked at it. ‘A fifty-pound +bill,’ said he; ‘I don’t like changing bills of that +amount, lest they should prove bad ones; however, as it comes from a +Quaker gentleman, I suppose it is all right.’ The mention +of a fifty-pound note aroused the attention of my friend, and he requested +to be permitted to look at it; he had scarcely seen it, when he was +convinced that it was one of the same description as those which had +brought me into trouble, as it corresponded with them in two particular +features, which the agent of the bank had pointed out to him and others +as evidence of their spuriousness. My friend, without a moment’s +hesitation, informed the landlord that the note was a bad one, expressing +at the same time a great wish to see the Quaker gentleman who wanted +to have it changed. ‘That you can easily do,’ said +the landlord, and forthwith conducted him into the common room, where +he saw a respectable-looking man, dressed like a Quaker, and seemingly +about sixty years of age.<br> +<br> +“My friend, after a short apology, showed him the note which he +held in his hand, stating that he had no doubt it was a spurious one, +and begged to be informed where he had taken it, adding, that a particular +friend of his was at present in trouble, owing to his having taken similar +notes from a stranger at Horncastle; but that he hoped that he, the +Quaker, could give information, by means of which the guilty party, +or parties, could be arrested. At the mention of Horncastle, it +appeared to my friend that the Quaker gave a slight start. At +the conclusion of this speech, however, he answered, with great tranquillity, +that he had received it in the way of business at -, naming one of the +principal towns in Yorkshire, from a very respectable person, whose +name he was perfectly willing to communicate, and likewise his own, +which he said was James, and that he was a merchant residing at Liverpool; +that he would write to his friend at -, requesting him to make inquiries +on the subject; that just at that moment he was in a hurry to depart, +having some particular business at a town about ten miles off, to go +to which he had bespoken a post-chaise of the landlord; that with respect +to the note, it was doubtless a very disagreeable thing to have a suspicious +one in his possession, but that it would make little difference to him, +as he had plenty of other money, and thereupon he pulled out a purse, +containing various other notes, and some gold, observing, ‘that +his only motive for wishing to change the other note was a desire to +be well provided with change;’ and finally, that if they had any +suspicion with respect to him, he was perfectly willing to leave the +note in their possession till he should return, which he intended to +do in about a fortnight. There was so much plausibility in the +speech of the Quaker, and his appearance and behaviour were so perfectly +respectable, that my friend felt almost ashamed of the suspicion which +at first he had entertained of him, though, at the same time, he felt +an unaccountable unwillingness to let the man depart without some further +interrogation. The landlord, however, who did not wish to disoblige +one who had been, and might probably be again, a profitable customer, +declared that he was perfectly satisfied; and that he had no wish to +detain the note, which he made no doubt the gentleman had received in +the way of business, and that as the matter concerned him alone, he +would leave it to him to make the necessary inquiries. ‘Just +as you please, friend,’ said the Quaker, pocketing the suspicious +note, ‘I will now pay my bill.’ Thereupon he discharged +the bill with a five-pound note, which he begged the landlord to inspect +carefully, and with two pieces of gold.<br> +<br> +“The landlord had just taken the money, receipted the bill, and +was bowing to his customer, when the door opened, and a lad, dressed +in a kind of grey livery, appeared, and informed the Quaker that the +chaise was ready. ‘Is that boy your servant?’ said +the surgeon. ‘He is, friend,’ said the Quaker. +‘Hast thou any reason for asking me that question?’ +‘And has he been long in your service?’ ‘Several +years,’ replied the Quaker, ‘I took him into my house out +of compassion, he being an orphan, but as the chaise is waiting, I will +bid thee farewell.’ ‘I am afraid I must stop your +journey for the present,’ said the surgeon; ‘that boy has +exactly the same blemish in the eye which a boy had who was in company +with the man at Horncastle, from whom my friend received the forged +notes, and who there passed for his son.’ ‘I know +nothing about that,’ said the Quaker, ‘but I am determined +to be detained here no longer, after the satisfactory account which +I have given as to the note’s coming into my possession.’ +He then attempted to leave the room, but my friend detained him, a struggle +ensued, during which a wig which the Quaker wore fell off, whereupon +he instantly appeared to lose some twenty years of his age. ‘Knock +the fellow down, father,’ said the boy, ‘I’ll help +you.’<br> +<br> +“And, forsooth, the pretended Quaker took the boy’s advice, +and knocked my friend down in a twinkling. The landlord, however, +and waiter, seeing how matters stood, instantly laid hold of him; but +there can be no doubt that he would have escaped from the whole three, +had not certain guests who were in the house, hearing the noise, rushed +in, and helped to secure him. The boy was true to his word, assisting +him to the best of his ability, flinging himself between the legs of +his father’s assailants, causing several of them to stumble and +fall. At length, the fellow was secured, and led before a magistrate; +the boy, to whom he was heard to say something which nobody understood, +and to whom, after the man’s capture, no one paid much attention, +was no more seen.<br> +<br> +“The rest, as far as this man was concerned, may be told in a +few words; nothing to criminate him was found on his person, but on +his baggage being examined, a quantity of spurious notes were discovered. +Much of his hardihood now forsook him, and in the hope of saving his +life he made some very important disclosures; amongst other things, +he confessed that it was he who had given me the notes in exchange for +the horses, and also the note to be changed. He was subsequently +tried on two indictments, in the second of which I appeared against +him. He was condemned to die; but, in consideration of the disclosures +he had made, his sentence was commuted to perpetual transportation.<br> +<br> +“My innocence was thus perfectly established before the eyes of +the world, and all my friends hastened to congratulate me. There +was one who congratulated me more than all the rest - it was my beloved +one, but - but - she was dying - ”<br> +<br> +Here the old man drew his hand before his eyes, and remained for some +time without speaking; at length he removed his hand, and commenced +again with a broken voice: “You will pardon me if I hurry over +this part of my story, I am unable to dwell upon it. How dwell +upon a period when I saw my only earthly treasure pine away gradually +day by day, and knew that nothing could save her! She saw my agony, +and did all she could to console me, saying that she was herself quite +resigned. A little time before her death she expressed a wish +that we should be united. I was too happy to comply with her request. +We were united, I brought her to this house, where, in less than a week, +she expired in my arms.”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXXIV<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The Old Man’s Story continued - Misery in the Head - The Strange +Marks - Tea-dealer from London - Difficulties of the Chinese Language.<br> +<br> +<br> +After another pause the old man once more resumed his narration:- “If +ever there was a man perfectly miserable it was myself, after the loss +of that cherished woman. I sat solitary in the house, in which +I had hoped in her company to realize the choicest earthly happiness, +a prey to the bitterest reflections; many people visited, and endeavoured +to console me - amongst them was the clergyman of the parish, who begged +me to be resigned, and told me that it was good to be afflicted. +I bowed my head, but I could not help thinking how easy it must be for +those who feel no affliction, to bid others to be resigned, and to talk +of the benefit resulting from sorrow; perhaps I should have paid more +attention to his discourse than I did, provided he had been a person +for whom it was possible to entertain much respect, but his own heart +was known to be set on the things of this world.<br> +<br> +“Within a little time he had an opportunity, in his own case, +of practising resignation, and of realizing the benefit of being afflicted. +A merchant, to whom he had entrusted all his fortune, in the hope of +a large interest, became suddenly a bankrupt, with scarcely any assets. +I will not say that it was owing to this misfortune that the divine +died in less than a month after its occurrence, but such was the fact. +Amongst those who most frequently visited me was my friend the surgeon; +he did not confine himself to the common topics of consolation, but +endeavoured to impress upon me the necessity of rousing myself, advising +me to occupy my mind with some pursuit, particularly recommending agriculture; +but agriculture possessed no interest for me, nor, indeed, any pursuit +within my reach; my hopes of happiness had been blighted, and what cared +I for anything? so at last he thought it best to leave me to myself, +hoping that time would bring with it consolation; and I remained solitary +in my house, waited upon by a male and a female servant. Oh, what +dreary moments I passed! My only amusement - and it was a sad +one - was to look at the things which once belonged to my beloved, and +which were new in my possession. Oh, how fondly would I dwell +upon them! There were some books; I cared not for books, but these +had belonged to my beloved. Oh, how fondly did I dwell on them! +Then there was her hat and bonnet - oh, me, how fondly did I gaze upon +them! and after looking at her things for hours, I would sit and ruminate +on the happiness I had lost. How I execrated the moment I had +gone to the fair to sell horses! ‘Would that I had never +been to Horncastle to sell horses!’ I would say; ‘I might +at this moment have been enjoying the company of my beloved, leading +a happy, quiet, easy life, but for that fatal expedition;’ that +thought worked on my brain, till my brain seemed to turn round.<br> +<br> +“One day I sat at the breakfast-table gazing vacantly around me, +my mind was in a state of inexpressible misery; there was a whirl in +my brain, probably like that which people feel who are rapidly going +mad; this increased to such a degree that I felt giddiness coming upon +me. To abate this feeling I no longer permitted my eyes to wander +about, but fixed them upon an object on the table, and continued gazing +at it for several minutes without knowing what it was; at length, the +misery in my head was somewhat stilled, my lips moved, and I heard myself +saying, ‘What odd marks!’ I had fastened my eyes on +the side of a teapot, and by keeping them fixed upon it, had become +aware of a fact that had escaped my notice before - namely, that there +were marks upon it. I kept my eyes fixed upon them, and repeated +at intervals, ‘What strange marks!’ - for I thought that +looking upon the marks tended to abate the whirl in my head: I kept +tracing the marks one after the other, and I observed that though they +all bore a general resemblance to each other, they were all to a certain +extent different. The smallest portion possible of curious interest +had been awakened within me, and, at last, I asked myself, within my +own mind, ‘What motive could induce people to put such odd marks +on their crockery? they were not pictures, they were not letters; what +motive could people have for putting them there?’ At last +I removed my eyes from the teapot, and thought for a few moments about +the marks; presently, however, I felt the whirl returning; the marks +became almost effaced from my mind, and I was beginning to revert to +my miserable ruminations, when suddenly methought I heard a voice say, +‘The marks! the marks! cling to the marks? or - ’ +So I fixed my eyes again upon the marks, inspecting them more attentively, +if possible, than I had done before, and, at last, I came to the conclusion +that they were not capricious or fanciful marks, but were arranged systematically; +when I had gazed at them for a considerable time, I turned the teapot +round, and on the other side I observed marks of a similar kind, which +I soon discovered were identical with the ones I had been observing. +All the marks were something alike, but all somewhat different, and +on comparing them with each other, I was struck with the frequent occurrence +of a mark crossing an upright line, or projecting from it, now on the +right, now on the left side; and I said to myself, ‘Why does this +mark sometimes cross the upright line, and sometimes project?’ +and the more I thought on the matter, the less did I feel of the misery +in my head.<br> +<br> +“The things were at length removed, and I sat, as I had for some +time past been wont to sit after my meals, silent and motionless; but +in the present instance my mind was not entirely abandoned to the one +mournful idea which had so long distressed it. It was, to a certain +extent, occupied with the marks on the teapot; it is true that the mournful +idea strove hard with the marks on the teapot for the mastery in my +mind, and at last the painful idea drove the marks of the teapot out; +they, however, would occasionally return and flit across my mind for +a moment or two, and their coming was like a momentary relief from intense +pain. I thought once or twice that I would have the teapot placed +before me, that I might examine the marks at leisure, but I considered +that it would be as well to defer the re-examination of the marks till +the next morning; at that time I did not take tea of an evening. +By deferring the examination thus, I had something to look forward to +on the next morning. The day was a melancholy one, but it certainly +was more tolerable to me than any of the others had been since the death +of my beloved. As I lay awake that night I occasionally thought +of the marks, and in my sleep methought I saw them upon the teapot vividly +before me. On the morrow, I examined the marks again; how singular +they looked! Surely they must mean something, and if so, what +could they mean? and at last I thought within myself whether it would +be possible for me to make out what they meant: that day I felt more +relief than on the preceding one, and towards night I walked a little +about.<br> +<br> +“In about a week’s time I received a visit from my friend +the surgeon; after a little discourse, he told me that he perceived +I was better than when he had last seen me, and asked me what I had +been about; I told him that I had been principally occupied in considering +certain marks which I had found on a teapot, and wondering what they +could mean; he smiled at first, but instantly assuming a serious look, +he asked to see the teapot. I produced it, and after having surveyed +the marks with attention, he observed that they were highly curious, +and also wondered what they meant. ‘I strongly advise you,’ +said he, ‘to attempt to make them out, and also to take moderate +exercise, and to see after your concerns.’ I followed his +advice; every morning I studied the marks on the teapot, and in the +course of the day took moderate exercise, and attended to little domestic +matters, as became the master of a house.<br> +<br> +“I subsequently learned that the surgeon, in advising me to study +the marks, and endeavour to make out their meaning, merely hoped that +by means of them my mind might by degrees be diverted from the mournful +idea on which I had so long brooded. He was a man well skilled +in his profession, but had read and thought very little on matters unconnected +with it. He had no idea that the marks had any particular signification, +or were anything else but common and fortuitous ones. That I became +at all acquainted with their nature was owing to a ludicrous circumstance +which I will now relate.<br> +<br> +“One day, chancing to be at a neighbouring town, I was struck +with the appearance of a shop recently established. It had an +immense bow-window, and every part of it, to which a brush could be +applied, was painted in a gaudy flaming style. Large bowls of +green and black tea were placed upon certain chests, which stood at +the window. I stopped to look at them, such a display, whatever +it may be at the present time, being, at the period of which I am speaking, +quite uncommon in a country town. The tea, whether black or green, +was very shining and inviting, and the bowls, of which there were three, +standing on as many chests, were very grand and foreign looking. +Two of these were white, with figures and trees painted upon them in +blue; the other, which was the middlemost, had neither trees nor figures +upon it, but, as I looked through the window, appeared to have on its +sides the very same kind of marks which I had observed on the teapot +at home; there were also marks on the tea-chests, somewhat similar, +but much larger, and, apparently, not executed with so much care. +‘Best teas direct from China,’ said a voice close to my +side; and looking round I saw a youngish man, with a frizzled head, +flat face, and an immensely wide mouth, standing in his shirt-sleeves +by the door. ‘Direct from China,’ said he; ‘perhaps +you will do me the favour to walk in and scent them?’ ‘I +do not want any tea,’ said I; ‘I was only standing at the +window examining those marks on the bowl and the chests. I have +observed similar ones on a teapot at home.’ ‘Pray +walk in, sir,’ said the young fellow, extending his mouth till +it reached nearly from ear to ear; ‘pray walk in, and I shall +be happy to give you any information respecting the manners and customs +of the Chinese in my power.’ Thereupon I followed him into +his shop, where he began to harangue on the manners, customs, and peculiarities +of the Chinese, especially their manner of preparing tea, not forgetting +to tell me that the only genuine Chinese tea ever imported into England +was to be found in his shop. ‘With respect to those marks,’ +said he, ‘on the bowl and chests, they are nothing more nor less +than Chinese writing expressing something, though what I can’t +exactly tell you. Allow me to sell you this pound of tea,’ +he added, showing me a paper parcel. ‘On the envelope there +is a printed account of the Chinese system of writing, extracted from +authors of the most established reputation. These things I print, +principally with the hope of, in some degree, removing the worse than +Gothic ignorance prevalent amongst natives of these parts. I am +from London myself. With respect to all that relates to the Chinese +real imperial tea, I assure you sir, that - ’ Well, to make +short of what you doubtless consider a very tiresome story, I purchased +the tea and carried it home. The tea proved imperially bad, but +the paper envelope really contained some information on the Chinese +language and writing, amounting to about as much as you gained from +me the other day. On learning that the marks on the teapot expressed +words, I felt my interest with respect to them considerably increased, +and returned to the task of inspecting them with greater zeal than before, +hoping, by continually looking at them, to be able eventually to understand +their meaning, in which hope you may easily believe I was disappointed, +though my desire to understand what they represented continued on the +increase. In this dilemma I determined to apply again to the shopkeeper +from whom I bought the tea. I found him in rather low spirits, +his shirt-sleeves were soiled, and his hair was out of curl. On +my inquiring how he got on, he informed me that he intended speedily +to leave, having received little or no encouragement, the people, in +their Gothic ignorance, preferring to deal with an old-fashioned shopkeeper +over the way, who, so far from possessing any acquaintance with the +polity and institutions of the Chinese, did not, he believed, know that +tea came from China. ‘You are come for some more, I suppose?’ +said he. On receiving an answer in the negative he looked somewhat +blank, but when I added that I came to consult with him as to the means +which I must take in order to acquire the Chinese language he brightened +up. ‘You must get a grammar,’ said he, rubbing his +hands. ‘Have you not one?’ said I. ‘No,’ +he replied, ‘but any bookseller can procure you one.’ +As I was taking my departure, he told me that as he was about to leave +the neighbourhood, the bowl at the window, which bore the inscription, +besides some other pieces of porcelain of a similar description, were +at my service, provided I chose to purchase them. I consented, +and two or three days afterwards took from off his hands all the china +in his possession which bore the inscriptions, paying what he demanded. +Had I waited till the sale of his effects, which occurred within a few +weeks, I could probably have procured it for a fifth part of the sum +which I paid, the other pieces realizing very little. I did not, +however, grudge the poor fellow what he got from me, as I considered +myself to be somewhat in his debt for the information he had afforded +me.<br> +<br> +“As for the rest of my story, it may be briefly told. I +followed the advice of the shopkeeper, and applied to a bookseller who +wrote to his correspondent in London. After a long interval, I +was informed that if I wished to learn Chinese, I must do so through +the medium of French, there being neither Chinese grammar nor dictionary +in our language. I was at first very much disheartened. +I determined, however, at last to gratify my desire of learning Chinese, +even at the expense of learning French. I procured the books, +and in order to qualify myself to turn them to account, took lessons +in French from a little Swiss, the usher of a neighbouring boarding-school. +I was very stupid in acquiring French; perseverance, however, enabled +me to acquire a knowledge sufficient for the object I had in view. +In about two years I began to study Chinese by myself, through the medium +of the French.”<br> +<br> +“Well,” said I, “and how did you get on with the study +of the Chinese?”<br> +<br> +And then the old man proceeded to inform me how he got on with the study +of Chinese, enumerated all the difficulties he had had to encounter; +dilating upon his frequent despondency of mind, and occasionally his +utter despair of ever mastering Chinese. He told me that more +than once he had determined upon giving up the study, but when the misery +in his head forthwith returned, to escape from which he had as often +resumed it. It appeared, however, that ten years elapsed before +he was able to use ten of the two hundred and fourteen keys, which serve +to undo the locks of Chinese writing.<br> +<br> +“And are you able at present to use the entire number?” +I demanded.<br> +<br> +“Yes,” said the old man; “I can at present use the +whole number. I know the key for every particular lock, though +I frequently find the wards unwilling to give way.”<br> +<br> +“Has nothing particular occurred to you,” said I, “during +the time that you have been prosecuting your studies?”<br> +<br> +“During the whole time in which I have been engaged in these studies,” +said the old man, “only one circumstance has occurred which requires +any particular mention - the death of my old friend the surgeon - who +was carried off suddenly by a fit of apoplexy. His death was a +great shock to me, and for a time interrupted my studies. His +son, however, who succeeded him, was very kind to me, and, in some degree, +supplied his father’s place; and I gradually returned to my Chinese +locks and keys.”<br> +<br> +“And in applying keys to the Chinese locks you employ your time?”<br> +<br> +“Yes,” said the old man, “in making out the inscriptions +on the various pieces of porcelain, which I have at different times +procured, I pass my time. The first inscription which I translated +was that on the teapot of my beloved.”<br> +<br> +“And how many other pieces of porcelain may you have at present +in your possession?”<br> +<br> +“About fifteen hundred.”<br> +<br> +“And how did you obtain them?” I demanded.<br> +<br> +“Without much labour,” said the old man, “in the neighbouring +towns and villages - chiefly at auctions - of which, about twenty years +ago, there were many in these parts.”<br> +<br> +“And may I ask your reasons for confining your studies entirely +to the crockery literature of China, when you have all the rest at your +disposal?”<br> +<br> +“The inscriptions enable me to pass my time,” said the old +man; “what more would the whole literature of China do?”<br> +<br> +“And from these inscriptions,” said I, “what a book +it is in your power to make, whenever so disposed. ‘Translations +from the crockery literature of China.’ Such a book would +be sure to take; even glorious John himself would not disdain to publish +it.” The old man smiled. “I have no desire for +literary distinction,” said he; “no ambition. My original +wish was to pass my life in easy, quiet obscurity, with her whom I loved. +I was disappointed in my wish; she was removed, who constituted my only +felicity in this life; desolation came to my heart, and misery to my +head. To escape from the latter I had recourse to Chinese. +By degrees the misery left my head, but the desolation of the heart +yet remains.”<br> +<br> +“Be of good cheer,” said I; “through the instrumentality +of this affliction you have learnt Chinese, and, in so doing, learnt +to practise the duties of hospitality. Who but a man who could +read Runes on a teapot, would have received an unfortunate wayfarer +as you have received me?”<br> +<br> +“Well,” said the old man, “let us hope that all is +for the best. I am by nature indolent, and, but for this affliction, +should, perhaps, have hardly taken the trouble to do my duty to my fellow-creatures. +I am very, very indolent,” said he, slightly glancing towards +the clock; “therefore let us hope that all is for the best; but, +oh! these trials, they are very hard to bear.”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXXV<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The Leave-taking - Spirit of the Hearth - What’s o’Clock?<br> +<br> +<br> +The next morning, having breakfasted with my old friend, I went into +the stable to make the necessary preparations for my departure; there, +with the assistance of a stable lad, I cleaned and caparisoned my horse, +and then, returning into the house, I made the old female attendant +such a present as I deemed would be some compensation for the trouble +I had caused. Hearing that the old gentleman was in his study, +I repaired to him. “I am come to take leave of you,” +said I, “and to thank you for all the hospitality which I have +received at your hands.” The eyes of the old man were fixed +steadfastly on the inscription which I had found him studying on a former +occasion. “At length,” he murmured to himself, “I +have it - I think I have it;” and then, looking at me, he said, +“So you are about to depart?”<br> +<br> +“Yes,” said I, “my horse will be at the front door +in a few minutes; I am glad, however, before I go, to find that you +have mastered the inscription.”<br> +<br> +“Yes,” said the old man, “I believe I have mastered +it; it seems to consist of some verses relating to the worship of the +Spirit of the Hearth.”<br> +<br> +“What is the Spirit of the Hearth?” said I.<br> +<br> +“One of the many demons which the Chinese worship,” said +the old man; “they do not worship one God, but many.” +And then the old man told me a great many highly-interesting particulars +respecting the demon worship of the Chinese.<br> +<br> +After the lapse of at least half an hour I said, “I must not linger +here any longer, however willing. Horncastle is distant, and I +wish to be there to-night. Pray can you inform me what’s +o’clock?”<br> +<br> +The old man, rising, looked towards the clock which hung on the side +of the room at his left hand, on the farther side of the table at which +he was seated.<br> +<br> +“I am rather short-sighted,” said I, “and cannot distinguish +the number, at that distance.”<br> +<br> +“It is ten o’clock,” said the old man; “I believe +somewhat past.”<br> +<br> +“A quarter, perhaps?”<br> +<br> +“Yes,” said the old man “a quarter or - ”<br> +<br> +“Seven minutes, or ten minutes past ten.”<br> +<br> +“I do not understand you.”<br> +<br> +“Why, to tell you the truth,” said the old man, with a smile, +“there is one thing to the knowledge of which I could never exactly +attain.”<br> +<br> +“Do you mean to say,” said I, “that you do not know +what’s o’clock?”<br> +<br> +“I can give a guess,” said the old man, “to within +a few minutes.”<br> +<br> +“But you cannot tell the exact moment?”<br> +<br> +“No,” said the old man.<br> +<br> +“In the name of wonder,” said I, “with that thing +there on the wall continually ticking in your ear, how comes it that +you do not know what’s o’clock?”<br> +<br> +“Why,” said the old man, “I have contented myself +with giving a tolerably good guess; to do more would have been too great +trouble.”<br> +<br> +“But you have learnt Chinese,” said I.<br> +<br> +“Yes,” said the old man, “I have learnt Chinese.”<br> +<br> +“Well,” said I, “I really would counsel you to learn +to know what’s o’clock as soon as possible. Consider +what a sad thing it would be to go out of the world not knowing what’s +o’clock. A millionth part of the trouble required to learn +Chinese would, if employed, infallibly teach you to know what’s +o’clock.”<br> +<br> +“I had a motive for learning Chinese,” said the old man, +“the hope of appeasing the misery in my head. With respect +to not knowing what’s o’clock, I cannot see anything particularly +sad in the matter. A man may get through the world very creditably +without knowing what’s o’clock. Yet, upon the whole, +it is no bad thing to know what’s o’clock - you, of course, +do? It would be too good a joke if two people were to be together, +one knowing Armenian and the other Chinese, and neither knowing what’s +o’clock. I’ll now see you off.”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXXVI<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Arrival at Horncastle - The Inn and Ostlers - The Garret - Figure of +a Man with a Candle.<br> +<br> +<br> +Leaving the house of the old man who knew Chinese, but could not tell +what was o’clock, I wended my way to Horncastle, which I reached +in the evening of the same day, without having met any adventure on +the way worthy of being marked down in this very remarkable history.<br> +<br> +The town was a small one, seemingly ancient, and was crowded with people +and horses. I proceeded, without delay, to the inn to which my +friend the surgeon had directed me. “It is of no use coming +here,” said two or three ostlers, as I entered the yard - “all +full - no room whatever;” whilst one added in an undertone, “That +ere a’n’t a bad-looking horse.” “I want +to see the master of this inn,” said I, as I dismounted from the +horse. “See the master,” said an ostler - the same +who had paid the negative kind of compliment to the horse - “a +likely thing, truly; my master is drinking wine with some of the grand +gentry, and can’t be disturbed for the sake of the like of you.” +“I bring a letter to him,” said I, pulling out the surgeon’s +epistle. “I wish you would deliver it to him,” I added, +offering a half-crown. “Oh, it’s you, is it?” +said the ostler, taking the letter and the half-crown; “my master +will be right glad to see you; why, you ha’n’t been here +for many a year; I’ll carry the note to him at once.” +And with these words he hurried into the house. “That’s +a nice horse, young man,” said another ostler, “what will +you take for it?” to which interrogation I made no answer. +“If you wish to sell him,” said the ostler, coming up to +me, and winking knowingly, “I think I and my partners might offer +you a summut under seventy pounds;” to which kind and half-insinuated +offer I made no reply, save by winking in the same kind of knowing manner +in which I observed him wink. “Rather leary!” said +a third ostler. “Well, young man, perhaps you will drink +to-night with me and my partners, when we can talk the matter over.” +Before I had time to answer, the landlord, a well-dressed, good-looking +man, made his appearance with the ostler; he bore the letter in his +hand. Without glancing at me, he betook himself at once to consider +the horse, going round him, and observing every point with the utmost +minuteness. At last, having gone round the horse three times, +he stopped beside me, and keeping his eyes on the horse, bent his head +towards his right shoulder. “That horse is worth some money,” +said he, turning towards me suddenly, and slightly touching me on the +arm with the letter which he held in his hand; to which observation +I made no reply, save by bending my head towards the right shoulder +as I had seen him do. “The young man is going to talk to +me and my partners about it to-night,” said the ostler who had +expressed an opinion that he and his friends might offer me somewhat +under seventy pounds for the animal. “Pooh!” said +the landlord, “the young man’ knows what he is about; in +the meantime lead the horse to the reserved stall, and see well after +him. My friend,” said he, taking me aside after the ostler +had led the animal away, “recommends you to me in the strongest +manner, on which account alone I take you and your horse in. I +need not advise you not to be taken in, as I should say, by your look, +that you are tolerably awake; but there are queer hands at Horncastle +at this time, and those fellows of mine, you understand me - ; but I +have a great deal to do at present, so you must excuse me.” +And thereupon went into the house.<br> +<br> +That same evening I was engaged at least two hours in the stable, in +rubbing the horse down, and preparing him for the exhibition which I +intended he should make in the fair on the following day. The +ostler, to whom I had given the half-crown, occasionally assisted me, +though he was too much occupied by the horses of other guests to devote +any length of time to the service of mine; he more than once repeated +to me his firm conviction that himself and partners could afford to +offer me summut for the horse; and at a later hour when, in compliance +with his invitation, I took a glass of summut with himself and partners, +in a little room surrounded with corn-chests, on which we sat, both +himself and partners endeavoured to impress upon me, chiefly by means +of nods and winks, their conviction that they could afford to give me +summut for the horse, provided I were disposed to sell him; in return +for which intimation, with as many nods and winks as they had all collectively +used, I endeavoured to impress upon them my conviction that I could +get summut handsomer in the fair than they might be disposed to offer +me, seeing as how - which how I followed by a wink and a nod, which +they seemed perfectly to understand, one or two of them declaring that +if the case was so, it made a great deal of difference, and that they +did not wish to be any hindrance to me, more particularly as it was +quite clear I had been an ostler like themselves.<br> +<br> +It was late at night when I began to think of retiring to rest. +On inquiring if there was any place in which I could sleep, I was informed +that there was a bed at my service, provided I chose to sleep in a two-bedded +room, one of the beds of which was engaged by another gentleman. +I expressed my satisfaction at this arrangement, and was conducted by +a maid-servant up many pairs of stairs to a garret, in which were two +small beds, in one of which she gave me to understand another gentleman +slept; he had, however, not yet retired to rest; I asked who he was, +but the maid-servant could give me no information about him, save that +he was a highly respectable gentleman, and a friend of her master’s. +Presently, bidding me good night, she left me with a candle; and I, +having undressed myself and extinguished the light, went to bed. +Notwithstanding the noises which sounded from every part of the house, +I was not slow in falling asleep, being thoroughly tired. I know +not how long I might have been in bed, perhaps two hours, when I was +partially awakened by a light shining upon my face, whereupon, unclosing +my eyes, I perceived the figure of a man, with a candle in one hand, +staring at my face, whilst with the other hand, he held back the curtain +of the bed. As I have said before, I was only partially awakened, +my power of conception was consequently very confused; it appeared to +me, however, that the man was dressed in a green coat; that he had curly +brown or black hair, and that there was something peculiar in his look. +Just as I was beginning to recollect myself, the curtain dropped, and +I heard, or thought I heard, a voice say, “Don’t know the +cove.” Then there was a rustling like a person undressing, +whereupon being satisfied that it was my fellow-lodger, I dropped asleep, +but was awakened again by a kind of heavy plunge upon the other bed, +which caused it to rock and creak, when I observed that the light had +been extinguished, probably blown out, if I might judge from a rather +disagreeable smell of burnt wick which remained in the room, and which +kept me awake till I heard my companion breathing hard, when, turning +on the other side, I was again once more speedily in the arms of slumber.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXXVII<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Horncastle Fair.<br> +<br> +<br> +It had been my intention to be up and doing early on the following morning, +but my slumbers proved so profound, that I did not wake until about +eight; on arising, I again found myself the sole occupant of the apartment, +my more alert companion having probably risen at a much earlier hour. +Having dressed myself, I descended, and going to the stable, found my +horse under the hands of my friend the ostler, who was carefully rubbing +him down. “There a’n’t a better horse in the +fair,” said he to me, “and as you are one of us, and appear +to be all right, I’ll give you a piece of advice - don’t +take less than a hundred and fifty for him; if you mind your hits, you +may get it, for I have known two hundred given in this fair for one +no better, if so good.” “Well,” said I, “thank +you for your advice, which I will take, and, if successful, will give +you ‘summut’ handsome.” “Thank you,” +said the ostler; “and now let me ask whether you are up to all +the ways of this here place?” “I have never been here +before,” said I, “but I have a pair of tolerably sharp eyes +in my head.” “That I see you have,” said the +ostler, “but many a body, with as sharp a pair of eyes as yourn, +has lost his horse in this fair, for want of having been here before, +therefore,” said he, “I’ll give you a caution or two.” +Thereupon the ostler proceeded to give me at least half a dozen cautions, +only two of which I shall relate to the reader: - the first, not to +stop to listen to what any chance customer might have to say; and the +last - the one on which he appeared to lay most stress - by no manner +of means to permit a Yorkshireman to get up into the saddle, “for,” +said he, “if you do, it is three to one that he rides off with +the horse; he can’t help it; trust a cat amongst cream, but never +trust a Yorkshireman on the saddle of a good horse; by-the-by,” +he continued, “that saddle of yours is not a particularly good +one, no more is the bridle. I tell you what, as you seem a decent +kind of a young chap, I’ll lend you a saddle and bridle of my +master’s, almost bran new; he won’t object, I know, as you +are a friend of his, only you must not forget your promise to come down +with summut handsome after you have sold the animal.”<br> +<br> +After a slight breakfast I mounted the horse, which, decked out in his +borrowed finery, really looked better by a large sum of money than on +any former occasion. Making my way out of the yard of the inn, +I was instantly in the principal street of the town, up and down which +an immense number of horses were being exhibited, some led, and others +with riders. “A wonderful small quantity of good horses +in the fair this time!” I heard a stout jockey-looking individual +say, who was staring up the street with his side towards me. “Halloo, +young fellow!” said he, a few moments after I had passed, “whose +horse is that? Stop! I want to look at him!” +Though confident that he was addressing himself to me, I took no notice, +remembering the advice of the ostler, and proceeded up the street. +My horse possessed a good walking step; but walking, as the reader knows, +was not his best pace, which was the long trot, at which I could not +well exercise him in the street, on account of the crowd of men and +animals; however, as he walked along, I could easily perceive that he +attracted no slight attention amongst those who, by their jockey dress +and general appearance, I imagined to be connoisseurs; I heard various +calls to stop, to none of which I paid the slightest attention. +In a few minutes I found myself out of the town, when, turning round +for the purpose of returning, I found I had been followed by several +of the connoisseur-looking individuals, whom I had observed in the fair. +“Now would be the time for a display,” thought I; and looking +around me I observed two five-barred gates, one on each side of the +road, and fronting each other. Turning my horse’s head to +one, I pressed my heels to his sides, loosened the reins, and gave an +encouraging cry, whereupon the animal cleared the gate in a twinkling. +Before he had advanced ten yards in the field to which the gate opened, +I had turned him round, and again giving him cry and rein, I caused +him to leap back again into the road, and still allowing him head, I +made him leap the other gate; and forthwith turning him round, I caused +him to leap once more into the road, where he stood proudly tossing +his head, as much as to say, “What more?” “A +fine horse! a capital horse!” said several of the connoisseurs. +“What do you ask for him?” “Too much for any +of you to pay,” said I. “A horse like this is intended +for other kind of customers than any of you.” “How +do you know that?” said one; the very same person whom I had heard +complaining in the street of the paucity of good horses in the fair. +“Come, let us know what you ask for him?” “A +hundred and fifty pounds!” said I; “neither more nor less.” +“Do you call that a great price?” said the man. “Why, +I thought you would have asked double that amount! You do yourself +injustice, young man.” “Perhaps I do,” said +I, “but that’s my affair; I do not choose to take more.” +“I wish you would let me get into the saddle,” said the +man; “the horse knows you, and therefore shows to more advantage; +but I should like to see how he would move under me, who am a stranger. +Will you let me get into the saddle, young man?” “No,” +said I; “I will not let you get into the saddle.” +“Why not?” said the man. “Lest you should be +a Yorkshireman,” said I; “and should run away with the horse.” +“Yorkshire?” said the man; “I am from Suffolk; silly +Suffolk - so you need not be afraid of my running away with the horse.” +“Oh! if that’s the case,” said I, “I should +be afraid that the horse would run away with you; so I will by no means +let you mount.” “Will you let me look in his mouth?” +said the man. “If you please,” said I; “but +I tell you, he’s apt to bite.” “He can scarcely +be a worse bite than his master,” said the man, looking into the +horse’s mouth; “he’s four off. I say, young +man, will you warrant this horse?” “No,” said +I; “I never warrant horses; the horses that I ride can always +warrant themselves.” “I wish you would let me speak +a word to you,” said he. “Just come aside. It’s +a nice horse,” said he, in a half whisper, after I had ridden +a few paces aside with him. “It’s a nice horse,” +said he, placing his hand upon the pommel of the saddle, and looking +up in my face, “and I think I can find you a customer. If +you would take a hundred, I think my lord would purchase it, for he +has sent me about the fair to look him up a horse, by which he could +hope to make an honest penny.” “Well,” said +I, “and could he not make an honest penny, and yet give me the +price I ask?” “Why,” said the go-between, “a +hundred and fifty pounds is as much as the animal is worth, or nearly +so; and my lord, do you see - ” “I see no reason at +all,” said I, “why I should sell the animal for less than +he is worth, in order that his lordship may be benefited by him; so +that if his lordship wants to make an honest penny, he must find some +person who would consider the disadvantage of selling him a horse for +less than it is worth, as counterbalanced by the honour of dealing with +a lord, which I should never do; but I can’t be wasting my time +here. I am going back to the -, where, if you, or any person, +are desirous of purchasing the horse, you must come within the next +half hour, or I shall probably not feel disposed to sell him at all.” +“Another word, young man,” said the jockey; but without +staying to hear what he had to say, I put the horse to his best trot, +and re-entering the town, and threading my way as well as I could through +the press, I returned to the yard of the inn, where, dismounting, I +stood still, holding the horse by the bridle.<br> +<br> +I had been standing in this manner about five minutes, when I saw the +jockey enter the yard, accompanied by another individual. They +advanced directly towards me. “Here is my lord come to look +at the horse, young man,” said the jockey. My lord, as the +jockey called him, was a tall figure, of about five-and-thirty. +He had on his head a hat somewhat rusty, and on his back a surtout of +blue rather the worse for wear. His forehead, if not high, was +exceedingly narrow; his eyes were brown, with a rat-like glare in them; +the nose was rather long, and the mouth very wide; the cheek-bones high, +and the cheeks, as to hue and consistency, exhibiting very much the +appearance of a withered red apple; there was a gaunt expression of +hunger in the whole countenance. He had scarcely glanced at the +horse, when drawing in his cheeks, he thrust out his lips very much +after the manner of a baboon, when he sees a piece of sugar held out +towards him. “Is this horse yours?” said he, suddenly +turning towards me, with a kind of smirk. “It’s my +horse,” said I; “are you the person who wishes to make an +honest penny by it?” “How!” said he, drawing +up his head with a very consequential look, and speaking with a very +haughty tone, “what do you mean?” We looked at each +other full in the face; after a few moments, the muscles of the mouth +of him of the hungry look began to move violently, the face was puckered +into innumerable wrinkles, and the eyes became half closed. “Well,” +said I, “have you ever seen me before? I suppose you are +asking yourself that question.” “Excuse me, sir,” +said he, dropping his lofty look, and speaking in a very subdued and +civil tone, “I have never had the honour of seeing you before, +that is” - said he, slightly glancing at me again, and again moving +the muscles of his mouth, “no, I have never seen you before,” +he added, making me a bow. “I have never had that pleasure; +my business with you, at present, is to inquire the lowest price you +are willing to take for this horse. My agent here informs me that +you ask one hundred and fifty pounds, which I cannot think of giving +- the horse is a showy horse, but look, my dear sir, he has a defect +here, and there in his near fore leg I observe something which looks +very like a splint - yes, upon my credit,” said he, touching the +animal, “he has a splint, or something which will end in one. +A hundred and fifty pounds, sir! what could have induced you ever to +ask anything like that for this animal? I protest that, in my +time, I have frequently bought a better for - Who are you, sir? +I am in treaty for this horse,” said he to a man who had come +up whilst he was talking, and was now looking into the horse’s +mouth. “Who am I?” said the man, still looking into +the horse’s mouth; “who am I? his lordship asks me. +Ah, I see, close on five,” said he, releasing the horse’s +jaws, and looking at me. This new corner was a thin, wiry-made +individual, with wiry curling brown hair; his face was dark, and wore +an arch and somewhat roguish expression; upon one of his eyes was a +kind of speck or beam; he might be about forty, wore a green jockey +coat, and held in his hand a black riding whip, with a knob of silver +wire. As I gazed upon his countenance, it brought powerfully to +my mind the face which, by the light of the candle, I had seen staring +over me on the preceding night, when lying in bed and half asleep. +Close beside him, and seemingly in his company, stood an exceedingly +tall figure, that of a youth, seemingly about one-and-twenty, dressed +in a handsome riding dress, and wearing on his head a singular hat, +green in colour, and with a very high peak. “What do you +ask for this horse?” said he of the green coat, winking at me +with the eye which had a beam in it, whilst the other shone and sparkled +like Mrs. Colonel W-’s Golconda diamond. “Who are +you, sir, I demand once more?” said he of the hungry look. +“Who am I? why, who should I be but Jack Dale, who buys horses +for himself and other folk; I want one at present for this short young +gentleman,” said he, motioning with his finger to the gigantic +youth. “Well, sir,” said the other, “and what +business have you to interfere between me and any purchase I may be +disposed to make?” “Well, then,” said the other, +“be quick and purchase the horse, or, perhaps, I may.” +“Do you think I am to be dictated to by a fellow of your description?” +said his lordship, “begone, or - ” “What do +you ask for this horse?” said the other to me, very coolly. +“A hundred and fifty,” said I. “I shouldn’t +mind giving it to you,” said he. “You will do no such +thing,” said his lordship, speaking so fast that he almost stuttered. +“Sir,” said he to me, “I must give you what you ask; +Symmonds, take possession of the animal for me,” said he to the +other jockey who attended him. “You will please to do no +such thing without my consent,” said I, “I have not sold +him.” “I have this moment told you that I will give +you the price you demand,” said his lordship; “is not that +sufficient?” “No,” said I, “there is a +proper manner of doing everything - had you come forward in a manly +and gentlemanly manner to purchase the horse, I should have been happy +to sell him to you, but after all the fault you have found with him, +I would not sell him to you at any price, so send your friend to find +up another.” “You behave in this manner, I suppose,” +said his lordship, “because this fellow has expressed a willingness +to come to your terms. I would advise you to be cautious how you +trust the animal in his hands; I think I have seen him before, and could +tell you - ” “What can you tell of me?” said +the other, going up to him; “except that I have been a poor dicky-boy, +and that now I am a dealer in horses, and that my father was lagged; +that’s all you could tell of me, and that I don’t mind telling +myself: but there are two things they can’t say of me, they can’t +say that I am either a coward or a screw either, except so far as one +who gets his bread by horses may be expected to be; and they can’t +say of me that I ever ate up an ice which a young woman was waiting +for, or that I ever backed out of a fight. Horse!” said +he, motioning with his finger tauntingly to the other; “what do +you want with a horse, except to take the bread out of the mouth of +a poor man - to-morrow is not the battle of Waterloo, so that you don’t +want to back out of danger, by pretending to have hurt yourself by falling +from the creature’s back, my lord of the white feather - come, +none of your fierce looks - I am not afraid of you.” In +fact, the other had assumed an expression of the deadliest malice, his +teeth were clenched, his lips quivered, and were quite pale; the rat-like +eyes sparkled, and he made a half spring, à la rat, towards his +adversary, who only laughed. Restraining himself, however, he +suddenly turned to his understrapper, saying, “Symmonds, will +you see me thus insulted? go and trounce this scoundrel; you can, I +know.” “Symmonds trounce me!” said the other, +going up to the person addressed, and drawing his hand contemptuously +over his face; “why, I beat Symmonds in this very yard in one +round three years ago; didn’t I, Symmonds?” said he to the +understrapper, who held down his head, muttering, in a surly tone, “I +didn’t come here to fight; let every one take his own part.” +“That’s right, Symmonds,” said the other, “especially +every one from whom there is nothing to be got. I would give you +half-a-crown for all the trouble you have had, provided I were not afraid +that my Lord Plume there would get it from you as soon as you leave +the yard together. Come, take yourselves both off; there’s +nothing to be made here.” Indeed, his lordship seemed to +be of the same opinion, for after a further glance at the horse, a contemptuous +look at me, and a scowl at the jockey, he turned on his heel, muttering +something which sounded like fellows, and stalked out of the yard, followed +by Symmonds.<br> +<br> +“And now, young man,” said the jockey, or whatever he was, +turning to me with an arch leer, “I suppose I may consider myself +as the purchaser of this here animal, for the use and behoof of this +young gentleman?” making a sign with his head to the tall young +man by his side. “By no means,” said I, “I am +utterly unacquainted with either of you, and before parting with the +horse I must be satisfied as to the respectability of the purchaser.” +“Oh! as to that matter,” said he, “I have plenty of +vouchers for my respectability about me;” and thrusting his hand +into his bosom below his waistcoat, he drew out a large bundle of notes. +“These are the kind of things,” said he, “which vouch +best for a man’s respectability.” “Not always,” +said I; “indeed, sometimes these kind of things need vouchers +for themselves.” The man looked at me with a peculiar look. +“Do you mean to say that these notes are not sufficient notes?” +said he, “because if you do I shall take the liberty of thinking +you are not over civil, and when I thinks a person is not over and above +civil I sometimes takes off my coat; and when my coat is off - ” +“You sometimes knock people down,” I added; “well, +whether you knock me down or not, I beg leave to tell you that I am +a stranger in this fair, and that I shall part with the horse to nobody +who has no better guarantee for his respectability than a roll of bank-notes, +which may be good or not for what I know, who am not a judge of such +things.” “Oh! if you are a stranger here,” said +the man, “as I believe you are, never having seen you here before +except last night, when I think I saw you above stairs by the glimmer +of a candle - I say, if you are a stranger, you are quite right to be +cautious; queer things being done in this fair, as nobody knows better +than myself,” he added with a leer; “but I suppose if the +landlord of the house vouches for me and my notes, you will have no +objection to part with the horse to me?” “None whatever,” +said I, “and in the meantime the horse can return to the stable.”<br> +<br> +Thereupon I delivered the horse to my friend the ostler.<br> +<br> +The landlord of the house on being questioned by me as to the character +and condition of my new acquaintance, informed me that he was a respectable +horsedealer, and an intimate friend of his, whereupon the purchase was +soon brought to a satisfactory conclusion.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXXVIII<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +High Dutch.<br> +<br> +<br> +It was evening: and myself and the two acquaintances I had made in the +fair - namely, the jockey and the tall foreigner - sat in a large upstairs +room, which looked into a court; we had dined with several people connected +with the fair at a long <i>table d’hôte</i>; they had now +departed, and we sat at a small side-table with wine and a candle before +us; both my companions had pipes in their mouths - the jockey a common +pipe, and the foreigner, one, the syphon of which, made of some kind +of wood, was at least six feet long, and the bowl of which, made of +a white kind of substance like porcelain, and capable of holding nearly +an ounce of tobacco, rested on the ground. The jockey frequently +emptied and replenished his glass; the foreigner sometimes raised his +to his lips, for no other purpose seemingly than to moisten them, as +he never drained his glass. As for myself, though I did not smoke, +I had a glass before me, from which I sometimes took a sip. The +room, notwithstanding the window was flung open, was in general so filled +with smoke, chiefly that which was drawn from the huge bowl of the foreigner, +that my companions and I were frequently concealed from each other’s +eyes. The conversation, which related entirely to the events of +the fair, was carried on by the jockey and myself, the foreigner, who +appeared to understand the greater part of what we said, occasionally +putting in a few observations in broken English. At length the +jockey, after the other had made some ineffectual attempts to express +something intelligibly which he wished to say, observed, “Isn’t +it a pity that so fine a fellow as meinheer, and so clever a fellow +too, as I believe him to be, is not a better master of our language?”<br> +<br> +“Is the gentleman a German?” said I; “if so, I can +interpret for him anything he wishes to say.”<br> +<br> +“The deuce you can,” said the jockey, taking his pipe out +of his mouth, and staring at me through the smoke.<br> +<br> +“Ha! you speak German,” vociferated the foreigner in that +language. “By Isten, I am glad of it! I wanted to +say - ” And here he said in German what he wished to say, +and which was of no great importance, and which I translated into English.<br> +<br> +“Well, if you don’t put me out,” said the jockey; +“what language is that - Dutch?”<br> +<br> +“High Dutch,” said I.<br> +<br> +“High Dutch, and you speak High Dutch, - why, I had booked you +for as great an ignoramus as myself, who can’t write - no, nor +distinguish in a book a great A from a bull’s foot.”<br> +<br> +“A person may be a very clever man,” said I - “no, +not a clever man, for clever signifies clerkly, and a clever man one +who is able to read and write, and entitled to the benefit of his clergy +or clerkship; but a person may be a very acute person without being +able to read or write. I never saw a more acute countenance than +your own.”<br> +<br> +“No soft soap,” said the jockey, “for I never uses +any. However, thank you for your information; I have hitherto +thought myself a’nition clever fellow, but from henceforth shall +consider myself just the contrary, and only - what’s the word? +- confounded ‘cute.”<br> +<br> +“Just so,” said I.<br> +<br> +“Well,” said the jockey, “as you say you can speak +High Dutch, I should like to hear you and master six foot six fire away +at each other.”<br> +<br> +“I cannot speak German,” said I, “but I can understand +tolerably well what others say in it.”<br> +<br> +“Come no backing out,” said the jockey, “let’s +hear you fire away for the glory of Old England.”<br> +<br> +“Then you are a German?” said I, in German to the foreigner.<br> +<br> +“That will do,” said the jockey, “keep it up.”<br> +<br> +“A German!” said the tall foreigner. “No, I +thank God that I do not belong to the stupid sluggish Germanic race, +but to a braver, taller, and handsomer people;” here taking the +pipe out of his mouth, he stood up proudly erect, so that his head nearly +touched the ceiling of the room, then reseating himself, and again putting +the syphon to his lips, he added, “I am a Magyar.”<br> +<br> +“What is that?” said I.<br> +<br> +The foreigner looked at me for a moment, somewhat contemptuously, through +the smoke, then said, in a voice of thunder, “A Hungarian!”<br> +<br> +“What a voice the chap has when he pleases!” interposed +the jockey; “what is he saying?”<br> +<br> +“Merely that he is a Hungarian,” said I; but I added, “the +conversation of this gentleman and myself in a language which you can’t +understand must be very tedious to you, we had better give it up.”<br> +<br> +“Keep on with it,” said the jockey, “I shall go on +listening very contentedly till I fall asleep, no bad thing to do at +most times.”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XXXIX<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The Hungarian.<br> +<br> +<br> +“Then you are a countryman of Tekeli, and of the queen who made +the celebrated water,” said I, speaking to the Hungarian in German, +which I was able to do tolerably well, owing to my having translated +the Publisher’s philosophy into that language, always provided +I did not attempt to say much at a time.<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. Ah! you have heard of Tekeli, and of L’eau +de la Reine d’Hongrie. How is that?<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. I have seen a play acted, founded on the exploits +of Tekeli, and have read Pigault Le Brun’s beautiful romance, +entitled the “Barons of Felsheim,” in which he is mentioned. +As for the water, I have heard a lady, the wife of a master of mine, +speak of it.<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. Was she handsome?<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. Very.<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. Did she possess the water?<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. I should say not; for I have heard her express +a great curiosity about it.<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. Was she growing old?<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. Of course not; but why do you put all these questions?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. Because the water is said to make people handsome, +and above all, to restore to the aged the beauty of their youth. +Well! Tekeli was my countryman, and I have the honour of having some +of the blood of the Tekelis in my veins, but with respect to the queen, +pardon me if I tell you that she was not an Hungarian; she was a Pole +- Ersebet by name, daughter of Wladislaus Locticus King of Poland; she +was the fourth spouse of Caroly the Second, King of the Magyar country, +who married her in 1320. She was a great woman and celebrated +politician, though at present chiefly known by her water.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. How came she to invent it?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. If her own account may be believed, she did +not invent it. After her death, as I have read in Florentius of +Buda, there was found a statement of the manner in which she came by +it, written in her own hand, on a fly-leaf of her breviary, to the following +effect:- Being afflicted with a grievous disorder at the age of seventy-two, +she received the medicine which was called her water, from an old hermit +whom she never saw before or afterwards; it not only cured her, but +restored to her all her former beauty, so that the King of Poland fell +in love with her, and made her an offer of marriage, which she refused +for the glory of God, from whose holy angel she believed she had received +the water. The receipt for making it and directions for using +it, were also found on the fly-leaf. The principal component parts +were burnt wine and rosemary, passed through an alembic; a drachm of +it was to be taken once a week, “etelbenn vagy italbann,” +in the food or the drink, early in the morning, and the cheeks were +to be moistened with it every day. The effects according to the +statement, were wonderful - and perhaps they were upon the queen; but +whether the water has been equally efficacious on other people, is a +point which I cannot determine. I should wish to see some old +woman who has been restored to youthful beauty by the use of L’eau +de la Reine d’Hongrie.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. Perhaps, if you did, the old gentlewoman would +hardly be so ingenuous as the queen. But who are the Hungarians +- descendants of Attila and his people?<br> +<br> +The Hungarian shook his head, and gave me to understand that he did +not believe that his nation were the descendants of Attila and his people, +though he acknowledged that they were probably of the same race. +Attila and his armies, he said, came and disappeared in a very mysterious +manner, and that nothing could be said with positiveness about them; +that the people now known as Magyars first made their appearance in +Muscovy in the year 884, under the leadership of Almus, called so from +Alom, which, in the Hungarian language, signifies a dream; his mother, +before his birth, having dreamt that the child with which she was enceinte +would be the father of a long succession of kings, which, in fact, was +the case; that after beating the Russians he entered Hungary, and coming +to a place called Ungvar, from which many people believed that modern +Hungary derived its name, he captured it, and held in it a grand festival, +which lasted four days, at the end of which time he resigned the leadership +of the Magyars to his son Arpad. This Arpad and his Magyars utterly +subdued Pannonia - that is, Hungary and Transylvania, wresting the government +of it from the Sclavonian tribes who inhabited it, and settling down +amongst them as conquerors! After giving me this information, +the Hungarian exclaimed with much animation, - “A goodly country +that which they had entered on, consisting of a plain surrounded by +mountains, some of which intersect it here and there, with noble rapid +rivers, the grandest of which is the mighty Dunau; a country with tiny +volcanoes, casting up puffs of smoke and steam, and from which hot springs +arise, good for the sick; with many fountains, some of which are so +pleasant to the taste as to be preferred to wine; with a generous soil +which, warmed by a beautiful sun, is able to produce corn, grapes, and +even the Indian weed; in fact, one of the finest countries in the world, +which even a Spaniard would pronounce to be nearly equal to Spain. +Here they rested - meditating, however, fresh conquests. Oh, the +Magyars soon showed themselves a mighty people. Besides Hungary +and Transylvania, they subdued Bulgaria and Bosnia, and the land of +Tot, now called Sclavonia. The generals of Zoltan, the son of +Arpad, led troops of horsemen to the banks of the Rhine. One of +them, at the head of a host, besieged Constantinople. It was then +that Botond engaged in combat with a Greek of gigantic stature, who +came out of the city and challenged the two best men in the Magyar army. +‘I am the feeblest of the Magyars,’ said Botond, ‘but +I will kill thee;’ and he performed his word, having previously +given a proof of the feebleness of his arm by striking his battle-axe +through the brazen gate, making a hole so big that a child of five years +old could walk through it.”<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. Of what religion were the old Hungarians?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. They had some idea of a Supreme Being, whom +they called Isten, which word is still used by the Magyars for God; +but their chief devotion was directed to sorcerers and soothsayers, +something like the Schamans of the Siberian steppes. They were +converted to Christianity chiefly through the instrumentality of Istvan +or Stephen, called after his death St. Istvan, who ascended the throne +in the year one thousand. He was born in heathenesse, and his +original name was Vojk: he was the first kiraly, or king of the Magyars. +Their former leaders had been called fejedelmek, or dukes. The +Magyar language has properly no term either for king or house. +Kiraly is a word derived from the Sclaves; haz, or house, from the Germans, +who first taught them to build houses, their original dwellings having +been tilted waggons.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. Many thanks for your account of the great men of +your country.<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. The great men of my country! I have only +told you of the - Well, I acknowledge that Almus and Arpad were +great men, but Hungary has produced many greater; I will not trouble +you by recapitulating all, but there is one name I cannot forbear mentioning +- but you have heard of it - even at Horncastle, the name of Hunyadi +must be familiar.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. It may be so, though I rather doubt it; but, however +that may be, I confess my ignorance. I have never, until this +moment, heard the name of Hunyadi.<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. Not of Hunyadi Janos, not of Hunyadi John - +for the genius of our language compels us to put a man’s Christian +name after his other; perhaps you have heard of the name of Corvinus?<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. Yes, I have heard the name of Corvinus.<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. By my God, I am glad of it; I thought our hammer +of destruction, our thunderbolt, whom the Greeks called Achilles, must +be known to the people of Horncastle. Well, Hunyadi and Corvinus +are the same.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. Corvinus means the man of the crow, or raven. +I suppose that your John, when a boy, climbed up to a crow or a raven’s +nest, and stole the young; a bold feat, well befitting a young hero.<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. By Isten, you are an acute guesser; a robbery +there was, but it was not Hunyadi who robbed the raven, but the raven +who robbed Hunyadi.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. How was that?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. In this manner: Hunyadi, according to tradition, +was the son of King Sigmond, by a peasant’s daughter. The +king saw and fell in love with her, whilst marching against the vaivode +of Wallachia. He had some difficulty in persuading her to consent +to his wishes, and she only yielded at last, on the king making her +a solemn promise that, in the event of her becoming with child by him, +he would handsomely provide for her and the infant. The king proceeded +on his expedition; and on his returning in triumph from Wallachia, again +saw the girl, who informed him that she was enceinte by him; the king +was delighted with the intelligence, gave the girl money, and at the +same time a ring, requesting her, if she brought forth a son, to bring +the ring to Buda with the child, and present it to him. When her +time was up, the peasant’s daughter brought forth a fair son, +who was baptized by the name of John. After some time the young +woman communicated the whole affair to her elder brother, whose name +was Gaspar, and begged him to convey her and the child to the king at +Buda. The brother consented, and both set out, taking the child +with them. On their way, the woman, wanting to wash her clothes, +laid the child down, giving it the king’s ring to play with. +A raven, who saw the glittering ring, came flying, and plucking it out +of the child’s hand, carried it up into a tree; the child suddenly +began to cry, and the mother, hearing it, left her washing, and running +to the child, forthwith missed the ring, but hearing the raven croak +in the tree, she lifted up her eyes, and saw it with the ring in its +beak. The woman, in great terror, called her brother, and told +him what had happened, adding that she durst not approach the king if +the raven took away the ring. Gaspar, seizing his cross-bow and +quiver, ran to the tree, where the raven was yet with the ring, and +discharged an arrow at it, but, being in a great hurry, he missed it; +with his second shot he was more lucky, for he hit the raven in the +breast, which, together with the ring, fell to the ground. Taking +up the ring, they went on their way, and shortly arrived at Buda. +One day, as the king was walking after dinner in his outer hall, the +woman appeared before him with the child, and, showing him the ring, +said, “Mighty lord! behold this token! and take pity upon me and +your own son.” King Sigmond took the child and kissed it, +and, after a pause, said to the mother, “You have done right in +bringing me the boy; I will take care of you, and make him a nobleman.” +The king was as good as his word, he provided for the mother; caused +the boy to be instructed in knightly exercises, and made him a present +of the town of Hunyad, in Transylvania, on which account he was afterwards +called Hunyadi, and gave him, as an armorial sign, a raven bearing a +ring in his beak.<br> +<br> +Such, oh young man of Horncastle! is the popular account of the birth +of the great captain of Hungary, as related by Florentius of Buda. +There are other accounts of his birth, which is, indeed, involved in +much mystery, and of the reason of his being called Corvinus, but as +this is the most pleasing, and is, upon the whole, founded on quite +as good evidence as the others, I have selected it for recitation.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. I heartily thank you; but you must tell me something +more of Hunyadi. You call him your great captain; what did he +do?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. Do! what no other man of his day could have +done. He broke the power of the Turk when he was coming to overwhelm +Europe. From the blows inflicted by Hunyadi, the Turk never thoroughly +recovered; he has been frequently worsted in latter times, but none +but Hunyadi could have routed the armies of Amurath and Mahomed the +Second.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. How was it that he had an opportunity of displaying +his military genius?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. I can hardly tell you, but his valour soon made +him famous; King Albert made him Ban of Szorenyi. He became eventually +waivode of Transylvania, and governor of Hungary. His first grand +action was the defeat of Bashaw Isack; and though himself surprised +and routed at St. Imre, he speedily regained his prestige by defeating +the Turks, with enormous slaughter, killing their leader, Mezerbeg; +and subsequently, at the battle of the Iron Gates, he destroyed ninety +thousand Turks, sent by Amurath to avenge the late disgrace. It +was then that the Greeks called him Achilles.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. He was not always successful.<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. Who could be always successful against the early +Turk? He was defeated in the battle in which King Vladislaus lost +his life, but his victories outnumbered his defeats three-fold. +His grandest victory - perhaps the grandest ever achieved by man - was +over the terrible Mahomed the Second; who, after the taking of Constantinople +in 1453, said, “One God in Heaven - one king on earth;” +and marched to besiege Belgrade at the head of one hundred, and fifty +thousand men; swearing by the beard of the prophet, “That he would +sup within it ere two months were elapsed.” He brought with +him dogs, to eat the bodies of the Christians whom he should take or +slay; so says Florentius; hear what he also says: The Turk sat down +before the town towards the end of June, 1454, covering the Dunau and +Szava with ships: and on the 4th of July he began to cannonade Belgrade +with cannons twenty-five feet long, whose roar could be heard at Szeged, +a distance of twenty-four leagues, at which place Hunyadi had assembled +his forces. Hunyadi had been able to raise only fifteen thousand +of well-armed and disciplined men, though he had with him vast bands +of people, who called themselves Soldiers of the Cross, but who consisted +of inexperienced lads from school, peasants, and hermits, armed with +swords, slings, and clubs. Hunyadi, undismayed by the great disparity +between his forces and those of the Turk, advanced to relieve Belgrade, +and encamped at Szalankemen with his army. There he saw at once, +that his first step must be to attack the flotilla; he therefore privately +informed Szilagy, his wife’s brother, who at that time defended +Belgrade, that it was his intention to attack the ships of the Turks +on the 14th day of July in front, and requested his co-operation in +the rear. On the 14th came on the commencement of the great battle +of Belgrade, between Hunyadi and the Turk. Many days it lasted.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. Describe it.<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. I cannot. One has described it well - +Florentius of Buda. I can only repeat a few of his words: - “On +the appointed day, Hunyadi, with two hundred vessels, attacked the Turkish +flotilla in front, whilst Szilagy, with forty vessels, filled with the +men of Belgrade, assailed it in the rear; striving for the same object, +they sunk many of the Turkish vessels, captured seventy-four, burnt +many, and utterly annihilated the whole fleet. After this victory, +Hunyadi, with his army, entered Belgrade, to the great joy of the Magyars. +But though the force of Mahomed upon the water was destroyed, that upon +the land remained entire; and with this, during six days and nights, +he attacked the city without intermission, destroying its walls in many +parts. His last and most desperate assault was made on the 21st +day of July. Twice did the Turks gain possession of the outer +town, and twice was it retaken with indescribable slaughter. The +next day the combat raged without ceasing till mid-day, when the Turks +were again beaten out of the town, and pursued by the Magyars to their +camp. There the combat was renewed, both sides displaying the +greatest obstinacy, until Mahomed received a great wound over his left +eye. The Turks then, turning their faces, fled, leaving behind +them three hundred cannon in the hands of the Christians, and more than +twenty-four thousand slain on the field of battle.”<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. After that battle, I suppose Hunyadi enjoyed his +triumphs in peace?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. In the deepest, for he shortly died. His +great soul quitted his body, which was exhausted by almost superhuman +exertions, on the 11th of August, 1456. Shortly before he died, +according to Florentius, a comet appeared, sent, as it would seem, to +announce his coming end. The whole Christian world mourned his +loss. The Pope ordered the cardinals to perform a funeral ceremony +at Rome in his honour. His great enemy himself grieved for him, +and pronounced his finest eulogium. When Mahomed the Second heard +of his death, he struck his head for some time against the ground without +speaking. Suddenly he broke silence with these words, “Notwithstanding +he was my enemy, yet do I bewail his loss; since the sun has shone in +heaven, no Prince had ever yet such a man.”<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. What was the name of his Prince?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. Laszlo the Fifth; who, though under infinite +obligations to Hunyadi, was anything but grateful to him; for he once +consented to a plan which was laid to assassinate him, contrived by +his mortal enemy Ulrik, Count of Cilejia; and after Hunyadi’s +death, caused his eldest son, Hunyadi Laszlo, to be executed on a false +accusation, and imprisoned his younger son, Matyas, who, on the death +of Laszlo, was elected by the Magyars to be their king, on the 24th +of January, 1458.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. Was this Matyas a good king?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. Was Matyas Corvinus a good king? O young +man of Horncastle! he was the best and greatest that ever Hungary possessed, +and, after his father, the most renowned warrior, - some of our best +laws were framed by him. It was he who organized the Hussar force, +and it was he who took Vienna. Why does your Government always +send fools to represent it at Vienna?<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. I really cannot say; but with respect to the Hussar +force, is it of Hungarian origin?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. Its name shows its origin. Huz, in Hungarian, +is twenty and the Hussar force is so called because it is formed of +twentieths. A law was issued by which it was ordered that every +Hungarian nobleman, out of every twenty dependents, should produce a +well-equipped horseman, and with him proceed to the field of battle.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. Why did Matyas capture Venna?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. Because the Emperor Frederick took part against +him with the King of Poland, who claimed the kingdom of Hungary for +his son, and had also assisted the Turk. He captured it in the +year 1487, but did not survive his triumph long, expiring there in the +year 1490. He was so veracious a man, that it was said of him, +after his death, “Truth died with Matyas.” It might +be added that the glory of Hungary departed with him. I wish to +say nothing more connected with Hungarian history.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. Another word. Did Matyas leave a son?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. A natural son, Hunyadi John, called so after +the great man. He would have been universally acknowledged as +King of Hungary but for the illegitimacy of his birth. As it was, +Ulaszlo, the son of the King of Poland, afterwards called Ulaszlo the +Second, who claimed Hungary as being descended from Albert, was nominated +king by a great majority of the Magyar electors. Hunyadi John +for some time disputed the throne with him; there was some bloodshed, +but Hunyadi John eventually submitted, and became the faithful captain +of Ulaszlo, notwithstanding that the Turk offered to assist him with +an army of two hundred thousand men.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. Go on.<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. To what? Tché Drak, to the Mohacs +Veszedelem. Ulaszlo left a son, Lajos the Second, born without +skin, as it is said, certainly without a head. He, contrary to +the advice of all his wise counsellors, - and amongst them was Batory +Stephen, who became eventually King of Poland - engaged, with twenty-five +thousand men, at Mohacs, Soliman the Turk, who had an army of two hundred +thousand. Drak! the Magyars were annihilated, King Lajos disappeared +with his heavy horse and armour in a bog. We call that battle, +which was fought on the 29th of August, 1526, the destruction of Mohacs, +but it was the destruction of Hungary.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. You have twice used the word drak, what is the +meaning of it? Is it Hungarian?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. No! it belongs to the mad Wallacks. They +are a nation of madmen on the other side of Transylvania. Their +country was formerly a fief of Hungary, like Moldavia, which is inhabited +by the same race, who speak the same language and are equally mad.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. What language do they speak?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. A strange mixture of Latin and Sclavonian - +they themselves being a mixed race of Romans and Sclavonians. +Trajan sent certain legions to form military colonies in Dacia; and +the present Wallacks and Moldavians are, to a certain extent, the descendants +of the Roman soldiers, who married the women of the country. I +say to a certain extent, for the Sclavonian element both in blood and +language seems to prevail.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. And what is drak?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. Dragon; which the Wallacks use for “devil.” +The term is curious, as it shows that the old Romans looked upon the +dragon as an infernal being.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. You have been in Wallachia?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. I have, and glad I was to get out of it. +I hate the mad Wallacks.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. Why do you call them mad?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. They are always drinking or talking. I +never saw a Wallachian eating or silent. They talk like madmen, +and drink like madmen. In drinking they use small phials, the +contents of which they pour down their throats. When I first went +amongst them I thought the whole nation was under a course of physic, +but the terrible jabber of their tongues soon undeceived me. Drak +was the first word I heard on entering Dacia, and the last when I left +it. The Moldaves, if possible, drink more, and talk more than +the Wallachians.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. It is singular enough that the only Moldavian I +have known could not speak. I suppose he was born dumb.<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. A Moldavian born dumb! Excuse me, the +thing is impossible, - all Moldavians are born talking! I have +known a Moldavian who could not speak, but he was not born dumb. +His master, an Armenian, snipped off part of his tongue at Adrianople. +He drove him mad with his jabber. He is now in London, where his +master has a house. I have letters of credit on the house: the +clerk paid me money in London, the master was absent; the money which +you received for the horse belonged to that house.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. Another word with respect to Hungarian history.<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. Drak! I wish to say nothing more about +Hungarian history.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. The Turk, I suppose, after Mohacs, got possession +of Hungary?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. Not exactly. The Turk, upon the whole, +showed great moderation; not so the Austrian. Ferdinand the First +claimed the crown of Hungary as being the cousin of Maria, widow of +Lajos; he found too many disposed to support him. His claim, however, +was resisted by Zapolya John, a Hungarian magnate, who caused himself +to be elected king. Hungary was for a long time devastated by +wars between the partisans of Zapolya and Ferdinand. At last Zapolya +called in the Turk. Soliman behaved generously to him, and after +his death befriended his young son, and Isabella his queen; eventually +the Turks became masters of Transylvania and the greater part of Hungary. +They were not bad masters, and had many friends in Hungary, especially +amongst those of the reformed faith, to which I have myself the honour +of belonging; those of the reformed faith found the Mufti more tolerant +than the Pope. Many Hungarians went with the Turks to the siege +of Vienna, whilst Tekeli and his horsemen guarded Hungary for them. +A gallant enterprise that siege of Vienna, the last great effort of +the Turk; it failed, and he speedily lost Hungary, but he did not sneak +from Hungary like a frightened hound. His defence of Buda will +not be soon forgotten, where Apty Basha, the governor, died fighting +like a lion in the breach. There’s many a Hungarian would +prefer Stamboul to Vienna. Why does your Government always send +fools to represent it at Vienna?<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. I have already told you that I cannot say. +What became of Tekeli?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. When Hungary was lost he retired with the Turks +into Turkey. Count Renoncourt, in his Memoirs, mentions having +seen him at Adrianople. The Sultan, in consideration of the services +which he had rendered to the Moslem in Hungary, made over the revenues +of certain towns and districts for his subsistence. The count +says that he always went armed to the teeth, and was always attended +by a young female dressed in male attire, who had followed him in his +wars, and had more than once saved his life. His end is wrapped +in mystery, I - whose greatest boast, next to being a Hungarian, is +to be of his blood - know nothing of his end.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. Allow me to ask who you are?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. Egy szegeny Magyar Nemes ember, a poor Hungarian +nobleman, son of one yet poorer. I was born in Transylvania, not +far to the west of good Coloscvar. I served some time in the Austrian +army as a noble Hussar, but am now equerry to a great nobleman, to whom +I am distantly related. In his service I have travelled far and +wide, buying horses. I have been in Russia and in Turkey, and +am now at Horncastle, where I have had the satisfaction to meet with +you, and to buy your horse, which is, in truth, a noble brute.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. For a soldier and equerry you seem to know a great +deal of the history of your country.<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. All I know is derived from Florentius of Buda, +whom we call Budai Ferentz. He was professor of Greek and Latin +at the Reformed College of Debreczen, where I was educated; he wrote +a work entitled “Magyar Polgari Lexicon,” Lives of Great +Hungarian Citizens. He was dead before I was born, but I found +his book, when I was a child, in the solitary home of my father, which +stood on the confines of a puszta, or wilderness, and that book I used +to devour in winter nights when the winds were whistling around the +house. Oh I how my blood used to glow at the descriptions of Magyar +valour, and likewise of Turkish; for Florentius has always done justice +to the Turk. Many a passage similar to this have I got by heart; +it is connected with a battle on the plain of Rigo, which Hunyadi lost:- +“The next day, which was Friday, as the two armies were drawn +up in battle array, a Magyar hero riding forth, galloped up and down, +challenging the Turks to single combat. Then came out to meet +him the son of a renowned bashaw of Asia; rushing upon each other, both +broke their lances, but the Magyar hero and his horse rolled over upon +the ground, for the Turks had always the best horses.” O +young man of Horncastle! if ever you learn Hungarian - and learn it +assuredly you will after what I have told you - read the book of Florentius +of Buda, even if you go to Hungary to get it, for you will scarcely +find it elsewhere, and even there with difficulty, for the book has +been long out of print. It describes the actions of the great +men of Hungary down to the middle of the sixteenth century; and besides +being written in the purest Hungarian, has the merit of having for its +author a professor of the Reformed College of Debreczen.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. I will go to Hungary rather than not read it. +I am glad that the Turk beat the Magyar. When I used to read the +ballads of Spain I always sided with the Moor against the Christian.<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. It was a drawn fight after all, for the terrible +horse of the Turk presently flung his own master, whereupon the two +champions returned to their respective armies; but in the grand conflict +which ensued, the Turks beat the Magyars, pursuing them till night, +and striking them on the necks with their scymetars. The Turk +is a noble fellow; I should wish to be a Turk, were I not a Magyar.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. The Turk always keeps his word, I am told.<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. Which the Christian very seldom does, and even +the Hungarian does not always. In 1444 Ulaszlo made, at Szeged, +peace with Amurath for ten years, which he swore with an oath to keep, +but at the instigation of the Pope Julian he broke it, and induced his +great captain, Hunyadi John, to share in the perjury. The consequence +was the battle of Varna, of the 10th of November, in which Hunyadi was +routed, and Ulaszlo slain. Did you ever hear his epitaph? it is +both solemn and edifying:-<br> +<br> +<br> +Romulidae Cannas ego Varnam clade notavi;<br> +Discite rnortales non temerare fidem:<br> +Me nisi Pontifices jussissent rumpere foedus<br> +Non ferret Scythicum Pannonis ora jugum.”<br> +<br> +<br> +“Halloo!” said the jockey, starting up from a doze in which +he had been indulging for the last hour, his head leaning upon his breast, +“what is that? That’s not high Dutch; I bargained +for high Dutch, and I left you speaking high Dutch, as it sounded very +much like the language of horses, as I have been told high Dutch does; +but as for what you are speaking now, whatever you may call it, it sounds +more like the language of another kind of animal. I suppose you +want to insult me, because I was once a dicky-boy.”<br> +<br> +“Nothing of the kind,” said I; “the gentleman was +making a quotation in Latin.”<br> +<br> +“Latin, was it?” said the jockey; “that alters the +case. Latin is genteel, and I have sent my eldest boy to an academy +to learn it. Come, let us hear you fire away in Latin,” +he continued, proceeding to re-light his pipe, which, before going to +sleep, he had laid on the table.<br> +<br> +“If you wish to follow the discourse in Latin,” said the +Hungarian, in very bad English, “I can oblige you; I learned to +speak very good Latin in the college of Debreczen.”<br> +<br> +“That’s more,” said I, “than I have done in +the colleges where I have been; in any little conversation which we +may yet have, I wish you would use German.”<br> +<br> +“Well,” said the jockey, taking a whiff, “make your +conversation as short as possible, whether in Latin or Dutch, for, to +tell you the truth, I am rather tired of merely playing listener.”<br> +<br> +“You were saying you had been in Russia,” said I; “I +believe the Russians are part of the Sclavonian race.”<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. Yes, part of the great Sclavonian family; one +of the most numerous races in the world. The Russians themselves +are very numerous; would that the Magyars could boast of the fifth part +of their number!<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. What is the number of the Magyars?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. Barely four millions. We came a tribe +of Tartars into Europe, and settled down amongst Sclavonians, whom we +conquered, but who never coalesced with us. The Austrian at present +plays in Pannonia the Sclavonian against us, and us against the Sclavonian; +but the downfall of the Austrian is at hand; they, like us, are not +a numerous people.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. Who will bring about his downfall?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. The Russians. The Rysckie Tsar will lead +his people forth, all the Sclavonians will join him, he will conquer +all before him.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. Are the Russians good soldiers?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. They are stubborn and unflinching to an astonishing +degree, and their fidelity to their Tsar is quite admirable. See +how the Russians behaved at Plescova, in Livonia, in the old time, against +our great Batory Stephen; they defended the place till it was a heap +of rubbish, and mark how they behaved after they had been made prisoners. +Stephen offered them two alternatives:- to enter into his service, in +which they would have good pay, clothing, and fair treatment; or to +be allowed to return to Russia. Without the slightest hesitation +they, to a man, chose the latter, though well aware that their beloved +Tsar, the cruel Ivan Basilowits, would put them all to death, amidst +tortures the most horrible, for not doing what was impossible - preserving +the town.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. You speak Russian?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. A little. I was born in the vicinity of +a Sclavonian tribe; the servants of our house were Sclavonians, and +I early acquired something of their language, which differs not much +from that of Russia; when in that country I quickly understood what +was said.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. Have the Russians any literature?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. Doubtless; but I am not acquainted with it, +as I do not read their language; but I know something of their popular +tales, to which I used to listen in their izbushkas; a principal personage +in these is a creation quite original - called Baba Yaga.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. Who is the Baba Yaga?<br> +<br> +<i>Hungarian</i>. A female phantom, who is described as hurrying +along the puszta, or steppe, in a mortar, pounding with a pestle at +a tremendous rate, and leaving a long trace on the ground behind her +with her tongue, which is three yards long, and with which she seizes +any men and horses coming in her way, swallowing them down into her +capacious belly. She has several daughters, very handsome, and +with plenty of money; happy the young Mujik who catches and marries +one of them, for they make excellent wives.<br> +<br> +“Many thanks,” said I, “for the information you have +afforded me: this is rather poor wine,” I observed, as I poured +out a glass - “I suppose you have better wine in Hungary?”<br> +<br> +“Yes, we have better wine in Hungary. First of all there +is Tokay, the most celebrated in the world, though I confess I prefer +the wine of Eger - Tokay is too sweet.”<br> +<br> +“Have you ever been at Tokay?”<br> +<br> +“I have,” said the Hungarian.<br> +<br> +“What kind of place is Tokay?”<br> +<br> +“A small town situated on the Tyzza, a rapid river descending +from the north; the Tokay Mountain is just behind the town, which stands +on the right bank. The top of the mountain is called Kopacs Teto, +or the bald tip; the hill is so steep that during thunder-storms pieces +frequently fall down upon the roofs of the houses. It was planted +with vines by King Lajos, who ascended the throne in 1342. The +best wine called Tokay is, however, not made at Tokay, but at Kassau, +two leagues farther into the Carpathians, of which Tokay is a spur. +If you wish to drink the best Tokay, you must go to Vienna, to which +place all the prime is sent. For the third time I ask you, O young +man of Horncastle! why does your Government always send fools to represent +it at Vienna?”<br> +<br> +“And for the third time I tell you, O son of Almus! that I cannot +say; perhaps, however, to drink the sweet Tokay wine; fools, you know, +always like sweet things.”<br> +<br> +“Good,” said the Hungarian; “it must be so, and when +I return to Hungary, I will state to my countrymen your explanation +of a circumstance which has frequently caused them great perplexity. +Oh! the English are a clever people, and have a deep meaning in all +they do. What a vision of deep policy opens itself to my view! +they do not send their fool to Vienna in order to gape at processions, +and to bow and scrape at a base Papist court, but to drink at the great +dinners the celebrated Tokay of Hungary, which the Hungarians, though +they do not drink it, are very proud of, and by doing so to intimate +the sympathy which the English entertain for their fellow religionists +of Hungary. Oh! the English are a deep people.”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XL<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The Horncastle Welcome - Tzernebock and Bielebock.<br> +<br> +<br> +The pipe of the Hungarian had, for some time past, exhibited considerable +symptoms of exhaustion, little or no ruttling having been heard in the +tube, and scarcely a particle of smoke, drawn through the syphon, having +been emitted from the lips of the possessor. He now rose from +his seat, and going to a corner of the room, placed his pipe against +the wall, then striding up and down the room, he cracked his fingers +several times, exclaiming, in a half-musing manner, “Oh, the deep +nation, which, in order to display its sympathy for Hungary, sends its +fool to Vienna, to drink the sweet wine of Tokay!”<br> +<br> +The jockey, having looked for some time at the tall figure with evident +approbation, winked at me with that brilliant eye of his on which there +was no speck, saying, “’Did you ever see a taller fellow?”<br> +<br> +“Never,” said I.<br> +<br> +“Or a finer?”<br> +<br> +“That’s another question,” said I, “which I +am not so willing to answer; however, as I am fond of truth, and scorn +to flatter, I will take the liberty of saying that I have seen a finer.”<br> +<br> +“A finer! where?” said the jockey; whilst the Hungarian, +who appeared to understand what we said, stood still, and looked full +at me.<br> +<br> +“Amongst a strange set of people,” said I, “whom, +if I were to name, you would, I dare say, only laugh at me.”<br> +<br> +“Who be they?” said the jockey. “Come, don’t +be ashamed; I have occasionally kept queerish company myself.”<br> +<br> +“The people whom we call gypsies,” said I; “whom the +Germans call Zigeuner, and who call themselves Romany chals.”<br> +<br> +“Zigeuner!” said the Hungarian; “by Isten! I +do know those people.”<br> +<br> +“Romany chals!” said the jockey; “whew! I begin +to smell a rat.”<br> +<br> +“What do you mean by smelling a rat?” said I.<br> +<br> +“I’ll bet a crown,” said the jockey, “that you +be the young chap what certain folks call ‘the Romany Rye.’”<br> +<br> +“Ah!” said I, “how came you to know that name?”<br> +<br> +“Be not you he?” said the jockey.<br> +<br> +“Why, I certainly have been called by that name.”<br> +<br> +“I could have sworn it,” said the jockey; then rising from +his chair, he laid his pipe on the table, took a large hand-bell which +stood on the side-board, and going to the door, opened it, and commenced +ringing in a most tremendous manner on the staircase. The noise +presently brought up a waiter, to whom the jockey vociferated, “Go +to your master, and tell him to send immediately three bottles of champagne, +of the pink kind, mind you, which is twelve guineas a dozen;” +the waiter hurried away, and the jockey resumed his seat and his pipe. +I sat in silent astonishment until the waiter returned with a basket +containing the wine, which, with three long glasses, he placed on the +table. The jockey then got up, and going to a large bow-window +at the end of the room, which looked into a court-yard, peeped out; +then saying, “the coast is clear,” he shut down the principal +sash which was open for the sake of the air, and taking up a bottle +of champagne, he placed another in the hands of the Hungarian, to whom +he said something in private. The latter, who seemed to understand +him, answered by a nod. The two then going to the end of the table +fronting the window, and about eight paces from it, stood before it, +holding the bottles by their necks; suddenly the jockey lifted up his +arm. “Surely,” said I, “you are not mad enough +to fling that bottle through the window?” “Here’s +to the Romany Rye; here’s to the sweet master,” said the +jockey, dashing the bottle through the pane in so neat a manner that +scarcely a particle of glass fell into the room.<br> +<br> +“Eljen edes csigany ur - eljen gul eray!” said the Hungarian, +swinging round his bottle, and discharging it at the window; but, either +not possessing the jockey’s accuracy of aim, or reckless of the +consequences, he flung his bottle so, that it struck against part of +the wooden setting of the panes, breaking along with the wood and itself +three or four panes to pieces. The crash was horrid, and wine +and particles of glass flew back into the room, to the no small danger +of its inmates. “What do you think of that?” said +the jockey; “were you ever so honoured before?” “Honoured!” +said I. “God preserve me in future from such honour;” +and I put my finger to my cheek, which was slightly hurt by a particle +of the glass. “That’s the way we of the cofrady honour +great men at Horncastle,” said the jockey. “What, +you are hurt! never mind; all the better; your scratch shows that you +are the body the compliment was paid to.” “And what +are you going to do with the other bottle?” said I. “Do +with it!” said the jockey, “why, drink it, cosily and comfortably, +whilst holding a little quiet talk. The Romany Rye at Horncastle, +what an idea!”<br> +<br> +“And what will the master of the house say to all this damage +which you have caused him!”<br> +<br> +“What will your master say, William?” said the jockey to +the waiter, who had witnessed the singular scene just described without +exhibiting the slightest mark of surprise. William smiled, and +slightly shrugging his shoulders, replied, “Very little, I dare +say, sir; this a’n’t the first time your honour has done +a thing of this kind.” “Nor will it be the first time +that I shall have paid for it,” said the jockey; “well, +I shall never have paid for a certain item in the bill with more pleasure +than I shall pay for it now. Come, William, draw the cork, and +let us taste the pink champagne.”<br> +<br> +The waiter drew the cork, and filled the glasses with a pinky liquor, +which bubbled, hissed, and foamed. “How do you like it?” +said the jockey, after I had imitated the example of my companions, +by despatching my portion at a draught.<br> +<br> +“It is wonderful wine,” said I; “I have never tasted +champagne before, though I have frequently heard it praised; it more +than answers my expectations; but, I confess, I should not wish to be +obliged to drink it every day.”<br> +<br> +“Nor I,” said the jockey, “for every-day drinking +give me a glass of old port, or - ”<br> +<br> +“Of hard old ale,” I interposed, “which, according +to my mind, is better than all the wine in the world.”<br> +<br> +“Well said, Romany Rye,” said the jockey, “just my +own opinion; now, William, make yourself scarce.”<br> +<br> +The waiter withdrew, and I said to the jockey, “ How did you become +acquainted with the Romany chals?”<br> +<br> +“I first became acquainted with them,” said the jockey, +“when I lived with old Fulcher the basketmaker, who took me up +when I was adrift upon the world; I do not mean the present Fulcher, +who is likewise called old Fulcher, but his father, who has been dead +this many a year; while living with him in the caravan, I frequently +met them in the green lanes, and of latter years I have had occasional +dealings with them in the horse line.”<br> +<br> +“And the gypsies have mentioned me to you?” said I.<br> +<br> +“Frequently,” said the jockey, “and not only those +of these parts; why, there’s scarcely a part of England in which +I have not heard the name of the Romany Rye mentioned by these people. +The power you have over them is wonderful; that is, I should have thought +it wonderful, had they not more than once told me the cause.”<br> +<br> +“And what is the cause?” said I, “for I am sure I +do not know.”<br> +<br> +“The cause is this,” said the jockey, “they never +heard a bad word proceed from your mouth, and never knew you do a bad +thing.”<br> +<br> +“They are a singular people,” said I.<br> +<br> +“And what a singular language they have got,” said the jockey.<br> +<br> +“Do you know it?” said I.<br> +<br> +“Only a few words,” said the jockey, “they were always +chary in teaching me any.”<br> +<br> +“They were vary sherry to me too,” said the Hungarian, speaking +in broken English; “I only could learn from them half-a-dozen +words, for example, gul eray, which, in the czigany of my country, means +sweet gentleman; or edes ur in my own Magyar.”<br> +<br> +“Gudlo Rye, in the Romany of mine, means a sugar’d gentleman,” +said I; “then there are gypsies in your country?”<br> +<br> +“Plenty,” said the Hungarian, speaking German, “and +in Russia and Turkey too; and wherever they are found, they are alike +in their ways and language. Oh, they are a strange race, and how +little known! I know little of them, but enough to say, that one +horse-load of nonsense has been written about them; there is one Valter +Scott - ”<br> +<br> +“Mind what you say about him,” said I; “he is our +grand authority in matters of philology and history.”<br> +<br> +“A pretty philologist,” said the Hungarian, “who makes +the gypsies speak Roth-Welsch, the dialect of thieves; a pretty historian, +who couples together Thor and Tzernebock.”<br> +<br> +“Where does he do that?” said I.<br> +<br> +“In his conceited romance of ‘Ivanhoe,’ he couples +Thor and Tzernebock together, and calls them gods of the heathen Saxons.”<br> +<br> +“Well,” said I, “Thur or Thor was certainly a god +of the heathen Saxons.”<br> +<br> +“True,” said the Hungarian; “but why couple him with +Tzernebock? Tzernebock was a word which your Valter had picked +up somewhere without knowing the meaning. Tzernebock was no god +of the Saxons, but one of the gods of the Sclaves, on the southern side +of the Baltic. The Sclaves had two grand gods to whom they sacrificed, +Tzernebock and Bielebock; that is, the black and white gods, who represented +the powers of dark and light. They were overturned by Waldemar, +the Dane, the great enemy of the Sclaves; the account of whose wars +you will find in one fine old book, written by Saxo Gramaticus, which +I read in the library of the college of Debreczen. The Sclaves, +at one time, were masters of all the southern shore of the Baltic, where +their descendants are still to be found, though they have lost their +language, and call themselves Germans; but the word Zernevitz near Dantzic, +still attests that the Sclavic language was once common in those parts. +Zernevitz means the thing of blackness, as Tzernebock means the god +of blackness. Prussia itself merely means, in Sclavish, Lower +Russia. There is scarcely a race or language in the world more +extended than the Sclavic. On the other side of the Dunau you +will find the Sclaves and their language. Czernavoda is Sclavic, +and means black water; in Turkish, kara su; even as Tzernebock means +black god; and Belgrade, or Belograd, means the white town; even as +Bielebock, or Bielebog, means the white god. Oh! he is one great +ignorant, that Valter. He is going, they say, to write one history +about Napoleon. I do hope that in his history he will couple his +Thor and Tzernebock together. By my God! it would be good diversion +that.”<br> +<br> +“Walter Scott appears to be no particular favourite of yours,” +said I.<br> +<br> +“He is not,” said the Hungarian; “I hate him for his +slavish principles. He wishes to see absolute power restored in +this country, and Popery also - and I hate him because - what do you +think? In one of his novels, published a few months ago, he has +the insolence to insult Hungary in the presence of one of her sons. +He makes his great braggart, Coeur de Lion, fling a Magyar over his +head. Ha! it was well for Richard that he never felt the gripe +of a Hungarian. I wish the braggart could have felt the gripe +of me, who am ‘a’ magyarok közt legkissebb,’ +the least among the Magyars. I do hate that Scott, and all his +vile gang of Lowlanders and Highlanders. The black corps, the +fekete regiment of Matyjas Hunyadi, was worth all the Scots, high or +low, that ever pretended to be soldiers; and would have sent them all +headlong into the Black Sea, had they dared to confront it on its shores; +but why be angry with an ignorant, who couples together Thor and Tzernebock? +Ha! Ha!”<br> +<br> +“You have read his novels?” said I.<br> +<br> +“Yes, I read them now and then. I do not speak much English, +but I can read it well, and I have read some of his romances, and mean +to read his ‘Napoleon,’ in the hope of finding Thor and +Tzernebock coupled together in it, as in his high-flying ‘Ivanhoe.’”<br> +<br> +“Come,” said the jockey, “no more Dutch, whether high +or low. I am tired of it; unless we can have some English, I am +off to bed.”<br> +<br> +“I should be very glad to hear some English,” said I; “especially +from your mouth. Several things which you have mentioned, have +awakened my curiosity. Suppose you give us your history?”<br> +<br> +“My history?” said the jockey. “A rum idea! +however, lest conversation should lag, I’ll give it you. +First of all, however, a glass of champagne to each.”<br> +<br> +After we had each taken a glass of champagne, the jockey commenced his +history.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XLI<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The Jockey’s Tale - Thieves’ Latin - Liberties with Coin +- The Smasher in Prison - Old Fulcher - Every One has His Gift - Fashion +of the English.<br> +<br> +<br> +“My grandfather was a shorter, and my father was a smasher; the +one was scragg’d, and the other lagg’d.”<br> +<br> +I here interrupted the jockey by observing that his discourse was, for +the greater part, unintelligible to me.<br> +<br> +“I do not understand much English,” said the Hungarian, +who, having replenished and resumed his mighty pipe, was now smoking +away; “but, by Isten, I believe it is the gibberish which that +great ignorant Valther Scott puts into the mouths of the folks he calls +gypsies.”<br> +<br> +“Something like it, I confess,” said I, “though this +sounds more genuine than his dialect, which he picked up out of the +canting vocabulary at the end of the ‘English Rogue,’ a +book which, however despised, was written by a remarkable genius. +What do you call the speech you were using?” said I, addressing +myself to the jockey.<br> +<br> +“Latin,” said the jockey, very coolly, “that is, that +dialect of it which is used by the light-fingered gentry.”<br> +<br> +“He is right,” said the Hungarian; “it is what the +Germans call Roth-Welsch: they call it so because there are a great +many Latin words in it, introduced by the priests, who, at the time +of the Reformation, being too lazy to work and too stupid to preach, +joined the bands of thieves and robbers who prowled about the country. +Italy, as you are aware, is called by the Germans Welschland, or the +land of the Welschers; and I may add that Wallachia derives its name +from a colony of Welschers which Trajan sent there. Welsch and +Wallack being one and the same word, and tantamount to Latin.”<br> +<br> +“I dare say you are right,” said I; “but why was Italy +termed Welschland?”<br> +<br> +“I do not know,” said the Hungarian.<br> +<br> +“Then I think I can tell you,” said I; “it was called +so because the original inhabitants were a Cimbric tribe, who were called +Gwyltiad, that is, a race of wild people, living in coverts, who were +of the same blood, and spoke the same language as the present inhabitants +of Wales. Welsh seems merely a modification of Gwyltiad. +Pray continue your history,” said I to the jockey, “only +please to do so in a language which we can understand, and first of +all interpret the sentence with which you began it.”<br> +<br> +“I told you that my grandfather was a shorter,” said the +jockey, “by which is meant a gentleman who shortens or reduces +the current coin of these realms, for which practice he was scragged, +that is, hung by the scrag of the neck. And when I said that my +father was a smasher, I meant one who passes forged notes, thereby doing +his best to smash the Bank of England; by being lagged, I meant he was +laid fast, that is, had a chain put round his leg and then transported.”<br> +<br> +“Your explanations are quite satisfactory,” said I; “the +three first words are metaphorical, and the fourth, lagged, is the old +genuine Norse term, lagda, which signifies laid, whether in durance, +or in bed, has nothing to do with the matter. What you have told +me confirms me in an opinion which I have long entertained, that thieves’ +Latin is a strange mysterious speech, formed of metaphorical terms, +and words derived from the various ancient languages. Pray tell +me, now, how the gentleman, your grandfather, contrived to shorten the +coin of these realms?”<br> +<br> +“You shall hear,” said the jockey; “but I have one +thing to beg of you, which is, that when I have once begun my history +you will not interrupt me with questions, I don’t like them, they +stops one, and puts one out of one’s tale, and are not wanted; +for anything which I think can’t be understood, I should myself +explain, without being asked. My grandfather reduced or shortened +the coin of this country by three processes. By aquafortis, by +clipping, and by filing. Filing and clipping he employed in reducing +all sorts of coin, whether gold or silver; but aquafortis he used merely +in reducing gold coin, whether guineas, jacobuses, or Portugal pieces, +otherwise called moidores, which were at one time as current as guineas. +By laying a guinea in aquafortis for twelve hours, he could filch from +it to the value of ninepence, and by letting it remain there for twenty-four +to the value of eighteenpence, the aquafortis eating the gold away, +and leaving it like a sediment in the vessel. He was generally +satisfied with taking the value of ninepence from a guinea, of eighteenpence +from a jacobus or moidore, or half-a-crown from a broad Spanish piece, +whether he reduced them by aquafortis, filing, or clipping. From +a five-shilling piece, which is called a bull in Latin because it is +round like a bull’s head, he would file or clip to the value of +fivepence, and from lesser coin in proportion. He was connected +with a numerous gang, or set, of people, who had given up their minds +and talents entirely to shortening.”<br> +<br> +Here I interrupted the jockey. “How singular,” said +I, “is the fall and debasement of words; you talk of a gang, or +set, of shorters; you are, perhaps, not aware that gang and set were, +a thousand years ago, only connected with the great and Divine; they +are ancient Norse words, which may be found in the heroic poems of the +north, and in the Edda, a collection of mythologic and heroic songs. +In these poems we read that such and such a king invaded Norway with +a gang of heroes; or so and so, for example, Erik Bloodaxe, was admitted +to the set of gods; but at present gang and set are merely applied to +the vilest of the vile, and the lowest of the low, - we say a gang of +thieves and shorters, or a set of authors. How touching is this +debasement of words in the course of time; it puts me in mind of the +decay of old houses and names. I have known a Mortimer who was +a hedger and ditcher, a Berners who was born in a workhouse, and a descendant +of the De Burghs, who bore the falcon, mending old kettles, and making +horse and pony shoes in a dingle.”<br> +<br> +“Odd enough,” said the jockey; “but you were saying +you knew one Berners - man or woman? I would ask.”<br> +<br> +“A woman,” said I.<br> +<br> +“What might her Christian name be?” said the jockey.<br> +<br> +“It is not to be mentioned lightly,” said I, with a sigh.<br> +<br> +“I shouldn’t wonder if it were Isopel,” said the jockey +with an arch glance of his one brilliant eye.<br> +<br> +“It was Isopel,” said I; “did you know Isopel Berners?”<br> +<br> +“Ay, and have reason to know her,” said the jockey, putting +his hand into his left waistcoat pocket, as if to feel for something, +“for she gave me what I believe few men could do - a most confounded +whopping. But now, Mr. Romany Rye, I have again to tell you that +I don’t like to be interrupted when I’m speaking, and to +add that if you break in upon me a third time, you and I shall quarrel.”<br> +<br> +“Pray proceed with your story,” said I; “I will not +interrupt you again.”<br> +<br> +“Good!” said the jockey. “Where was I? +Oh, with a set of people who had given up their minds to shortening! +Reducing the coin, though rather a lucrative, was a very dangerous trade. +Coin filed felt rough to the touch; coin clipped could be easily detected +by the eye; and as for coin reduced by aquafortis, it was generally +so discoloured that, unless a great deal of pains was used to polish +it, people were apt to stare at it in a strange manner, and to say, +‘What have they been doing to this here gold?’ My +grandfather, as I have said before, was connected with a gang of shorters, +and sometimes shortened money, and at other times passed off what had +been shortened by other gentry.<br> +<br> +“Passing off what had been shortened by others was his ruin; for +once, in trying to pass off a broad piece which had been laid in aquafortis +for four-and-twenty hours, and was very black, not having been properly +rectified, he was stopped and searched, and other reduced coins being +found about him, and in his lodgings, he was committed to prison, tried, +and executed. He was offered his life, provided he would betray +his comrades; but he told the big-wigs, who wanted him to do so, that +he would see them farther first, and died at Tyburn, amidst the cheers +of the populace, leaving my grandmother and father, to whom he had always +been a kind husband and parent - for, setting aside the crime for which +he suffered, he was a moral man; leaving them, I say, to bewail his +irreparable loss.<br> +<br> +“’Tis said that misfortune never comes alone; this is, however, +not always the case. Shortly after my grandfather’s misfortune, +as my grandmother and her son were living in great misery in Spitalfields, +her only relation - a brother from whom she had been estranged some +years, on account of her marriage with my grandfather, who had been +in an inferior station to herself - died, leaving all his property to +her and the child. This property consisted of a farm of about +a hundred acres, with its stock, and some money besides. My grandmother, +who knew something of business, instantly went into the country, where +she farmed the property for her own benefit and that of her son, to +whom she gave an education suitable to a person in his condition, till +he was old enough to manage the farm himself. Shortly after the +young man came of age, my grandmother died, and my father, in about +a year, married the daughter of a farmer, from whom he expected some +little fortune, but who very much deceived him, becoming a bankrupt +almost immediately after the marriage of his daughter, and himself and +family going into the workhouse.<br> +<br> +“My mother, however, made my father an excellent wife; and if +my father in the long run did not do well it was no fault of hers. +My father was not a bad man by nature, he was of an easy, generous temper, +the most unfortunate temper, by the bye, for success in this life that +any person can be possessed of, as those who have it are almost sure +to be made dupes of by the designing. But, though easy and generous, +he was anything but a fool; he had a quick and witty tongue of his own +when he chose to exert it, and woe be to those who insulted him openly, +for there was not a better boxer in the whole country round. My +parents were married several years before I came into the world, who +was their first and only child. I may be called an unfortunate +creature; I was born with this beam or scale on my left eye, which does +not allow me to see with it; and though I can see tolerably sharply +with the other, indeed more than most people can with both of theirs, +it is a great misfortune not to have two eyes like other people. +Moreover, setting aside the affair of my eye, I had a very ugly countenance; +my mouth being slightly wrung aside, and my complexion swarthy. +In fact, I looked so queer that the gossips and neighbours, when they +first saw me, swore I was a changeling - perhaps it would have been +well if I had never been born; for my poor father, who had been particularly +anxious to have a son, no sooner saw me than he turned away, went to +the neighbouring town, and did not return for two days. I am by +no means certain that I was not the cause of his ruin, for till I came +into the world he was fond of his home, and attended much to business, +but afterwards he went frequently into company, and did not seem to +care much about his affairs: he was, however, a kind man, and when his +wife gave him advice never struck her, nor do I ever remember that he +kicked me when I came in his way, or so much as cursed my ugly face, +though it was easy to see that he didn’t over-like me. When +I was six years old I was sent to the village-school, where I was soon +booked for a dunce, because the master found it impossible to teach +me either to read or write. Before I had been at school two years, +however, I had beaten boys four years older than myself, and could fling +a stone with my left hand (for if I am right-eyed I am left-handed) +higher and farther than any one in the parish. Moreover, no boy +could equal me at riding, and no people ride so well or desperately +as boys. I could ride a donkey - a thing far more difficult to +ride than a horse - at full gallop over hedges and ditches, seated, +or rather floating upon his hinder part, - so, though anything but clever, +as this here Romany Rye would say, I was yet able to do things which +few other people could do. By the time I was ten my father’s +affairs had got into a very desperate condition, for he had taken to +gambling and horse-racing, and, being unsuccessful, had sold his stock, +mortgaged his estate, and incurred very serious debts. The upshot +was, that within a little time all he had was seized, himself imprisoned, +and my mother and myself put into a cottage belonging to the parish, +which, being very cold and damp, was the cause of her catching a fever, +which speedily carried her off. I was then bound apprentice to +a farmer, in whose service I underwent much coarse treatment, cold, +and hunger.<br> +<br> +“After lying in prison near two years, my father was liberated +by an Act for the benefit of insolvent debtors; he was then lost sight +of for some time; at last, however, he made his appearance in the neighbourhood +dressed like a gentleman, and seemingly possessed of plenty of money. +He came to see me, took me into a field, and asked me how I was getting +on. I told him I was dreadfully used, and begged him to take me +away with him; he refused, and told me to be satisfied with my condition, +for that he could do nothing for me. I had a great love for my +father, and likewise a great admiration for him on account of his character +as a boxer, the only character which boys in general regard, so I wished +much to be with him, independently of the dog’s life I was leading +where I was; I therefore said if he would not take me with him, I would +follow him; he replied that I must do no such thing, for that if I did, +it would be my ruin. I asked him what he meant, but he made no +reply, only saying that he would go and speak to the farmer. Then +taking me with him, he went to the farmer, and in a very civil manner +said that he understood I had not been very kindly treated by him, but +he hoped that in future I should be used better. The farmer answered +in a surly tone, that I had been only too well treated, for that I was +a worthless young scoundrel; high words ensued, and the farmer, forgetting +the kind of man he had to deal with, checked him with my grandsire’s +misfortune, and said he deserved to be hanged like his father. +In a moment my father knocked him down, and on his getting up, gave +him a terrible beating, then taking me by the hand he hastened away; +as we were going down a lane he said we were now both done for: ‘I +don’t care a straw for that, father,’ said I, ‘provided +I be with you.’ My father took me to the neighbouring town, +and going into the yard of a small inn, he ordered out a pony and light +cart which belonged to him, then paying his bill, he told me to mount +upon the seat, and getting up drove away like lightning; we drove for +at least six hours without stopping, till we came to a cottage by the +side of a heath; we put the pony and cart into a shed, and went into +the cottage, my father unlocking the door with a key which he took out +of his pocket; there was nobody in the cottage when we arrived, but +shortly after there came a man and a woman, and then some more people, +and by ten o’clock at night there were a dozen of us in the cottage. +The people were companions of my father. My father began talking +to them in Latin, but I did not understand much of the discourse, though +I believe it was about myself, as their eyes were frequently turned +to me. Some objections appeared to be made to what he said; however, +all at last seemed to be settled, and we all sat down to some food. +After that, all the people got up and went away, with the exception +of the woman, who remained with my father and me. The next day +my father also departed, leaving me with the woman, telling me before +he went that she would teach me some things which it behoved me to know. +I remained with her in the cottage upwards of a week; several of those +who had been there coming and going. The woman, after making me +take an oath to be faithful, told me that the people whom I had seen +were a gang who got their livelihood by passing forged notes, and that +my father was a principal man amongst them, adding, that I must do my +best to assist them. I was a poor ignorant child at that time, +and I made no objection, thinking that whatever my father did must be +right; the woman then gave me some instructions in the smasher’s +dialect of the Latin language. I made great progress, because, +for the first time in my life, I paid great attention to my lessons. +At last my father returned, and, after some conversation with the woman, +took me away in his cart. I shall be very short about what happened +to my father and myself during two years. My father did his best +to smash the Bank of England by passing forged notes, and I did my best +to assist him. We attended races and fairs in all kinds of disguises; +my father was a first-rate hand at a disguise, and could appear of all +ages, from twenty to fourscore; he was, however, grabbed at last. +He had said, as I have told you, that he should be my ruin, but I was +the cause of his, and all owing to the misfortune of this here eye of +mine. We came to this very place of Horncastle, where my father +purchased two horses of a young man, paying for them with three forged +notes, purporting to be Bank of Englanders of fifty pounds each, and +got the young man to change another of the like amount; he at that time +appeared as a respectable dealer, and I as his son, as I really was.<br> +<br> +“As soon as we had got the horses, we conveyed them to one of +the places of call belonging to our gang, of which there were several. +There they were delivered into the hands of our companions, who speedily +sold them in a distant part of the country. The sum which they +fetched - for the gang kept very regular accounts - formed an important +item on the next day of sharing, of which there were twelve in the year. +The young man, whom my father had paid for the horses with his smashing +notes, was soon in trouble about them, and ran some risk, as I heard, +of being executed; but he bore a good character, told a plain story, +and, above all, had friends, and was admitted to bail; to one of his +friends he described my father and myself. This person happened +to be at an inn in Yorkshire, where my father, disguised as a Quaker, +attempted to pass a forged note. The note was shown to this individual, +who pronounced it a forgery, it being exactly similar to those for which +the young man had been in trouble, and which he had seen. My father, +however, being supposed a respectable man, because he was dressed as +a Quaker - the very reason, by the bye, why anybody who knew aught of +the Quakers would have suspected him to be a rogue - would have been +let go, had I not made my appearance, dressed as his footboy. +The friend of the young man looked at my eye, and seized hold of my +father, who made a desperate resistance, I assisting him, as in duty +bound. Being, however, overpowered by numbers, he bade me by a +look, and a word or two in Latin, to make myself scarce. Though +my heart was fit to break, I obeyed my father, who was speedily committed. +I followed him to the county town in which he was lodged, where shortly +after I saw him tried, convicted, and condemned. I then, having +made friends with the jailor’s wife, visited him in his cell, +where I found him very much cast down. He said, that my mother +had appeared to him in a dream, and talked to him about a resurrection +and Christ Jesus; there was a Bible before him, and he told me the chaplain +had just been praying with him. He reproached himself much, saying, +he was afraid he had been my ruin, by teaching me bad habits. +I told him not to say any such thing, for that I had been the cause +of his, owing to the misfortune of my eye. He begged me to give +over all unlawful pursuits, saying, that if persisted in, they were +sure of bringing a person to destruction. I advised him to try +and make his escape, proposing, that when the turnkey came to let me +out, he should knock him down, and fight his way out, offering to assist +him; showing him a small saw, with which one of our companions, who +was in the neighbourhood, had provided me, and with which he could have +cut through his fetters in five minutes; but he told me he had no wish +to escape, and was quite willing to die. I was rather hard at +that time; I am not very soft now; and I felt rather ashamed of my father’s +want of what I called spirit. He was not executed after all; for +the chaplain, who was connected with a great family, stood his friend, +and got his sentence commuted, as they call it, to transportation; and +in order to make the matter easy, he induced my father to make some +valuable disclosures with respect to the smashers’ system. +I confess that I would have been hanged before I would have done so, +after having reaped the profit of it; that is, I think so now, seated +comfortably in my inn, with my bottle of champagne before me. +He, however, did not show himself carrion; he would not betray his companions, +who had behaved very handsomely to him, having given the son of a lord, +a great barrister, not a hundred-pound forged bill, but a hundred hard +guineas, to plead his cause, and another ten, to induce him, after pleading, +to put his hand to his breast, and say, that, upon his honour, he believed +the prisoner at the bar to be an honest and injured man. No; I +am glad to be able to say, that my father did not show himself exactly +carrion, though I could almost have wished he had let himself - +However, I am here with my bottle of champagne and the Romany Rye, and +he was in his cell, with bread and water and the prison chaplain. +He took an affectionate leave of me before he was sent away, giving +me three out of five guineas, all the money he had left. He was +a kind man, but not exactly fitted to fill my grandfather’s shoes. +I afterwards learned that he died of fever, as he was being carried +across the sea.<br> +<br> +“During the ‘sizes I had made acquaintance with old Fulcher. +I was in the town on my father’s account, and he was there on +his son’s, who, having committed a small larceny, was in trouble. +Young Fulcher, however, unlike my father, got off, though he did not +give the son of a lord a hundred guineas to speak for him, and ten more +to pledge his sacred honour for his honesty, but gave Counsellor P--- +one-and-twenty shillings to defend him, who so frightened the principal +evidence, a plain honest farming-man, that he flatly contradicted what +he had first said, and at last acknowledged himself to be all the rogues +in the world, and, amongst other things, a perjured villain. Old +Fulcher, before he left the town with his son, - and here it will be +well to say that he and his son left it in a kind of triumph, the base +drummer of a militia regiment, to whom they had given half-a-crown, +beating his drum before them - old Fulcher, I say, asked me to go and +visit him, telling me where, at such a time, I might find him and his +caravan and family; offering, if I thought fit, to teach me basket-making: +so, after my father had been sent off, I went and found up old Fulcher, +and became his apprentice in the basket-making line. I stayed +with him till the time of his death, which happened in about three months, +travelling about with him and his family, and living in green lanes, +where we saw gypsies and trampers, and all kinds of strange characters. +Old Fulcher, besides being an industrious basket-maker, was an out-and-out +thief, as was also his son, and, indeed, every member of his family. +They used to make baskets during the day, and thieve during a great +part of the night. I had not been with them twelve hours before +old Fulcher told me that I must thieve as well as the rest. I +demurred at first, for I remembered the fate of my father, and what +he had told me about leaving off bad courses, but soon allowed myself +to be over-persuaded; more especially as the first robbery I was asked +to do was a fruit robbery. I was to go with young Fulcher, and +steal some fine Morell cherries, which grew against a wall in a gentleman’s +garden; so young Fulcher and I went and stole the cherries, one half +of which we ate, and gave the rest to the old man, who sold them to +a fruiterer ten miles off from the place where we had stolen them. +The next night old Fulcher took me out with himself. He was a +great thief, though in a small way. He used to say, that they +were fools, who did not always manage to keep the rope below their shoulders, +by which he meant, that it was not advisable to commit a robbery, or +do anything which could bring you to the gallows. He was all for +petty larceny, and knew where to put his hand upon any little thing +in England, which it was possible to steal. I submit it to the +better judgment of the Romany Rye, who I see is a great hand for words +and names, whether he ought not to have been called old Filcher, instead +of Fulcher. I shan’t give a regular account of the larcenies +he committed during the short time I knew him, either alone by himself, +or with me and his son. I shall merely relate the last.<br> +<br> +“A melancholy gentleman, who lived a very solitary life, had a +large carp in a shady pond in a meadow close to his house; he was exceedingly +fond of it, and used to feed it with his own hand, the creature being +so tame that it would put its snout out of the water to be fed when +it was whistled to; feeding and looking at his carp were the only pleasures +the poor melancholy gentleman possessed. Old Fulcher - being in +the neighbourhood, and having an order from a fishmonger for a large +fish, which was wanted at a great city dinner, at which His Majesty +was to be present - swore he would steal the carp, and asked me to go +with him. I had heard of the gentleman’s fondness for his +creature, and begged him to let it be, advising him to go and steal +some other fish; but old Fulcher swore, and said he would have the carp, +although its master should hang himself; I told him he might go by himself, +but he took his son and stole the carp, which weighed seventeen pounds. +Old Fulcher got thirty shillings for the carp, which I afterwards heard +was much admired and relished by His Majesty. The master, however, +of the carp, on losing his favourite, became more melancholy than ever, +and in a little time hanged himself. ‘What’s sport +for one, is death to another,’ I once heard at the village-school +read out of a copy-book.<br> +<br> +“This was the last larceny old Fulcher ever committed. He +could keep his neck always out of the noose, but he could not always +keep his leg out of the trap. A few nights after, having removed +to a distance, he went to an osier car in order to steal some osiers +for his basket-making, for he never bought any. I followed a little +way behind. Old Fulcher had frequently stolen osiers out of the +car, whilst in the neighbourhood, but during his absence the property, +of which the car was a part, had been let to a young gentleman, a great +hand for preserving game. Old Fulcher had not got far into the +car before he put his foot into a man-trap. Hearing old Fulcher +shriek, I ran up, and found him in a dreadful condition. Putting +a large stick which I carried into the jaws of the trap, I contrived +to prize them open, and get old Fulcher’s leg out, but the leg +was broken. So I ran to the caravan, and told young Fulcher of +what had happened, and he and I helped his father home. A doctor +was sent for, who said that it was necessary to take the leg off, but +old Fulcher, being very much afraid of pain, said it should not be taken +off, and the doctor went away, but after some days, old Fulcher becoming +worse, ordered the doctor to be sent for, who came and took off his +leg, but it was then too late, mortification had come on, and in a little +time old Fulcher died.<br> +<br> +“Thus perished old Fulcher; he was succeeded in his business by +his son, young Fulcher, who, immediately after the death of his father, +was called old Fulcher, it being our English custom to call everybody +old, as soon as their fathers are buried; young Fulcher - I mean he +who had been called young, but was now old Fulcher - wanted me to go +out and commit larcenies with him; but I told him that I would have +nothing more to do with thieving, having seen the ill effects of it, +and that I should leave them in the morning. Old Fulcher begged +me to think better of it, and his mother joined with him. They +offered, if I would stay, to give me Mary Fulcher as a mort, till she +and I were old enough to be regularly married, she being the daughter +of the one, and the sister of the other. I liked the girl very +well, for she had always been civil to me, and had a fair complexion +and nice red hair, both of which I like, being a bit of a black myself; +but I refused, being determined to see something more of the world than +I could hope to do with the Fulchers, and, moreover, to live honestly, +which I could never do along with them. So the next morning I +left them: I was, as I said before, quite determined upon an honest +livelihood, and I soon found one. He is a great fool who is ever +dishonest in England. Any person who has any natural gift, and +everybody has some natural gift, is sure of finding encouragement in +this noble country of ours, provided he will but exhibit it. I +had not walked more than three miles before I came to a wonderfully +high church steeple, which stood close by the road; I looked at the +steeple, and going to a heap of smooth pebbles which lay by the roadside, +I took up some, and then went into the churchyard, and placing myself +just below the tower, my right foot resting on a ledge, about two foot +from the ground, I, with my left hand - being a left-handed person, +do you see - flung or chucked up a stone, which, lighting on the top +of the steeple, which was at least a hundred and fifty feet high, did +there remain. After repeating this feat two or three times, I +‘hulled’ up a stone, which went clean over the tower, and +then one, my right foot still on the ledge, which rising at least five +yards above the steeple, did fall down just at my feet. Without +knowing it, I was showing off my gift to others besides myself, doing +what, perhaps, not five men in England could do. Two men, who +were passing by, stopped and looked at my proceedings, and when I had +done flinging came into the churchyard, and, after paying me a compliment +on what they had seen me do, proposed that I should join company with +them; I asked them who they were, and they told me. The one was +Hopping Ned, and the other Biting Giles. Both had their gifts, +by which they got their livelihood; Ned could hop a hundred yards with +any man in England, and Giles could lift up with his teeth any dresser +or kitchen-table in the country, and, standing erect, hold it dangling +in his jaws. There’s many a big oak table and dresser in +certain districts of England, which bear the marks of Giles’s +teeth; and I make no doubt that, a hundred or two years hence, there’ll +be strange stories about those marks, and that people will point them +out as a proof that there were giants in bygone time, and that many +a dentist will moralize on the decays which human teeth have undergone.<br> +<br> +“They wanted me to go about with them, and exhibit my gift occasionally, +as they did theirs, promising that the money that was got by the exhibitions +should be honestly divided. I consented, and we set off together, +and that evening coming to a village, and putting up at the ale-house, +all the grand folks of the village being there smoking their pipes, +we contrived to introduce the subject of hopping - the upshot being +that Ned hopped against the school-master for a pound, and beat him +hollow; shortly after, Giles, for a wager, took up the kitchen table +in his jaws, though he had to pay a shilling to the landlady for the +marks he left, whose grandchildren will perhaps get money by exhibiting +them. As for myself, I did nothing that day, but the next, on +which my companions did nothing, I showed off at hulling stones against +a cripple, the crack man for stone-throwing, of a small town, a few +miles farther on. Bets were made to the tune of some pounds; I +contrived to beat the cripple, and just contrived; for to do him justice +I must acknowledge he was a first-rate hand at stones, though he had +a game hip, and went sideways; his head, when he walked - if his movements +could be called walking - not being above three feet above the ground. +So we travelled, I and my companions, showing off our gifts, Giles and +I occasionally for a gathering, but Ned never hopping, unless against +somebody for a wager. We lived honestly and comfortably, making +no little money by our natural endowments, and were known over a great +part of England as ‘Hopping Ned,’ ‘Biting Giles,’ +and ‘Hull over the Head Jack,’ which was my name, it being +the blackguard fashion of the English, do you see, to - ”<br> +<br> +Here I interrupted the jockey. “You may call it a blackguard +fashion,” said I, “and I dare say it is, or it would scarcely +be English; but it is an immensely ancient one, and is handed down to +us from our northern ancestry, especially the Danes, who were in the +habit of giving people surnames, or rather nicknames, from some quality +of body or mind, but generally from some disadvantageous peculiarity +of feature; for there is no denying that the English, Norse, or whatever +we may please to call them, are an envious, depreciatory set of people, +who not only give their poor comrades contemptuous names, but their +great people also. They didn’t call you the matchless Hurler, +because, by doing so, they would have paid you a compliment, but Hull +over the Head Jack, as much as to say that after all you were a scrub; +so, in ancient time, instead of calling Regner the great conqueror, +the Nation Tamer, they surnamed him Lodbrog, which signifies Rough or +Hairy Breeks - lod or loddin signifying rough or hairy; and instead +of complimenting Halgerdr, the wife of Gunnar of Hlitharend, the great +champion of Iceland, upon her majestic presence, by calling her Halgerdr, +the stately or tall; what must they do but term her Ha-brokr, or Highbreeks, +it being the fashion in old times for Northern ladies to wear breeks, +or breeches, which English ladies of the present day never think of +doing; and just, as of old, they called Halgerdr Long-breeks, so this +very day a fellow of Horncastle called, in my hearing, our noble-looking +Hungarian friend here, Long-stockings. Oh, I could give you a +hundred instances, both ancient and modern, of this unseemly propensity +of our illustrious race, though I will only trouble you with a few more +ancient ones; they not only nicknamed Regner, but his sons also, who +were all kings, and distinguished men: one, whose name was Biorn, they +nicknamed Ironsides; another, Sigurd, Snake in the Eye; another, White +Sark, or White Shirt - I wonder they did not call him Dirty Shirt; and +Ivarr, another, who was king of Northumberland, they called Bienlausi, +or the Legless, because he was spindle-shanked, had no sap in his bones, +and consequently no children. He was a great king, it is true, +and very wise, nevertheless his blackguard countrymen, always averse, +as their descendants are, to give credit to anybody, for any valuable +quality or possession, must needs lay hold, do you see - ”<br> +<br> +But before I could say any more, the jockey, having laid down his pipe, +rose, and having taken off his coat, advanced towards me.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XLII<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +A Short-tempered Person - Gravitation - The Best Endowment - Mary Fulcher +- Fair Dealing - Horse-witchery - Darius and his Groom - The Jockey’s +Tricks - The Two Characters - The Jockey’s Song.<br> +<br> +<br> +The jockey, having taken off his coat and advanced towards me, as I +have stated in the preceding chapter, exclaimed, in an angry tone, “This +is the third time you have interrupted me in my tale, Mr. Rye; I passed +over the two first times with a simple warning, but you will now please +to get up and give me the satisfaction of a man.”<br> +<br> +“I am really sorry,” said I, “if I have given you +offence, but you were talking of our English habits of bestowing nicknames, +and I could not refrain from giving a few examples tending to prove +what a very ancient habit it is.”<br> +<br> +“But you interrupted me,” said the jockey, “and put +me out of my tale, which you had no right to do; and as for your examples, +how do you know that I wasn’t going to give some as old or older +than yourn? Now stand up, and I’ll make an example of you.”<br> +<br> +“Well,” said I, “I confess it was wrong in me to interrupt +you, and I ask your pardon.”<br> +<br> +“That won’t do,” said the jockey, “asking pardon +won’t do.”<br> +<br> +“Oh,” said I, getting up, “if asking pardon does not +satisfy you, you are a different man from what I considered you.”<br> +<br> +But here the Hungarian, also getting up, interposed his tall form and +pipe between us, saying in English, scarcely intelligible, “Let +there be no dispute! As for myself, I am very much obliged to +the young man of Horncastle for his interruption, though he has told +me that one of his dirty townsmen called me ‘Long-stocking.’ +By Isten! there is more learning in what he has just said than in all +the verdammt English histories of Thor and Tzernebock I ever read.”<br> +<br> +“I care nothing for his learning,” said the jockey. +“I consider myself as good a man as he, for all his learning; +so stand out of the way, Mr. Sixfooteleven, or - ”<br> +<br> +“I shall do no such thing,” said the Hungarian. “I +wonder you are not ashamed of yourself. You ask a young man to +drink champagne with you, you make him dronk, he interrupt you with +very good sense; he ask your pardon, yet you not - ”<br> +<br> +“Well,” said the jockey, “I am satisfied. I +am rather a short-tempered person, but I bear no malice. He is, +as you say, drinking my wine, and has perhaps taken a drop too much, +not being used to such high liquor; but one doesn’t like to be +put out of one’s tale, more especially when one was about to moralize, +do you see, oneself, and to show off what little learning one has. +However, I bears no malice. Here is a hand to each of you; we’ll +take another glass each, and think no more about it.”<br> +<br> +The jockey having shaken both of our hands, and filled our glasses and +his own with what champagne remained in the bottle, put on his coat, +sat down, and resumed his pipe and story.<br> +<br> +“Where was I? Oh, roaming about the country with Hopping +Ned and Biting Giles. Those were happy days, and a merry and prosperous +life we led. However, nothing continues under the sun in the same +state in which it begins, and our firm was soon destined to undergo +a change. We came to a village where there was a very high church +steeple, and in a little time my comrades induced a crowd of people +to go and see me display my gift by flinging stones above the heads +of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, who stood at the four corners on the +top, carved in stone. The parson, seeing the crowd, came waddling +out of his rectory to see what was going on. After I had flung +up the stones, letting them fall just where I liked - and one, I remember, +fell on the head of Mark, where I dare say it remains to the present +day - the parson, who was one of the description of people called philosophers, +held up his hand, and asked me to let the next stone I flung up fall +upon it. He wished, do you see, to know with what weight the stone +would fall down, and talked something about gravitation - a word which +I could never understand to the present day, save that it turned out +a grave matter to me. I, like a silly fellow myself, must needs +consent, and, flinging the stone up to a vast height, contrived so that +it fell into the parson’s hand, which it cut dreadfully. +The parson flew into a great rage, more particularly as everybody laughed +at him, and, being a magistrate, ordered his clerk, who was likewise +constable, to conduct me to prison as a rogue and vagabond, telling +my comrades that if they did not take themselves off, he would serve +them in the same manner. So Ned hopped off, and Giles ran after +him, without making any gathering, and I was led to Bridewell, my mittimus +following at the end of a week, the parson’s hand not permitting +him to write before that time. In the Bridewell I remained a month, +when, being dismissed, I went in quest of my companions, whom, after +some time, I found up, but they refused to keep my company any longer; +telling me that I was a dangerous character, likely to bring them more +trouble than profit; they had, moreover, filled up my place. Going +into a cottage to ask for a drink of water, they saw a country fellow +making faces to amuse his children; the faces were so wonderful that +Hopping Ned and Biting Giles at once proposed taking him into partnership, +and the man - who was a fellow not very fond of work - after a little +entreaty, went away with them. I saw him exhibit his gift, and +couldn’t blame the others for preferring him to me; he was a proper +ugly fellow at all times, but when he made faces his countenance was +like nothing human. He was called Ugly Moses. I was so amazed +at his faces, that though poor myself I gave him sixpence, which I have +never grudged to this day, for I never saw anything like them. +The firm throve wonderfully after he had been admitted into it. +He died some little time ago, keeper of a public-house, which he had +been enabled to take from the profits of his faces. A son of his, +one of the children he was making faces to when my comrades entered +his door, is at present a barrister, and a very rising one. He +has his gift - he has not, it is true, the gift of the gab, but he has +something better, he was born with a grin on his face, a quiet grin; +he would not have done to grin through a collar like his father, and +would never have been taken up by Hopping Ned and Biting Giles, but +that grin of his caused him to be noticed by a much greater person than +either; an attorney observing it took a liking to the lad, and prophesied +that he would some day be heard of in the world; and in order to give +him the first lift, took him into his office, at first to light fires +and do such kind of work, and after a little time taught him to write, +then promoted him to a desk, articled him afterwards, and being unmarried, +and without children, left him what he had when he died. The young +fellow, after practising at the law some time, went to the bar, where, +in a few years, helped on by his grin, for he had nothing else to recommend +him, he became, as I said before, a rising barrister. He comes +our circuit, and I occasionally employ him, when I am obliged to go +to law about such a thing as an unsound horse. He generally brings +me through - or rather that grin of his does - and yet I don’t +like the fellow, confound him, but I’m an oddity - no, the one +I like, and whom I generally employ, is a fellow quite different, a +bluff sturdy dog, with no grin on his face, but with a look that seems +to say I am an honest man, and what cares I for any one? And an +honest man he is, and something more. I have known coves with +a better gift of the gab, though not many, but he always speaks to the +purpose, and understands law thoroughly; and that’s not all. +When at college, for he has been at college, he carried off everything +before him as a Latiner, and was first-rate at a game they call matthew +mattocks. I don’t exactly know what it is, but I have heard +that he who is first-rate at matthew mattocks is thought more of than +if he were first-rate Latiner.<br> +<br> +“Well, the chap that I’m talking about, not only came out +first-rate Latiner, but first-rate at matthew mattocks too; doing, in +fact, as I am told by those who knows, for I was never at college myself, +what no one had ever done before. Well, he makes his appearance +at our circuit, does very well, of course, but he has a somewhat high +front, as becomes an honest man, and one who has beat every one at Latin +and matthew mattocks; and one who can speak first-rate law and sense; +- but see now, the cove with the grin, who has like myself never been +at college; knows nothing of Latin, or matthew mattocks, and has no +particular gift of the gab, has two briefs for his one, and I suppose +very properly, for that grin of his curries favour with the juries; +and mark me, that grin of his will enable him to beat the other in the +long run. We all know what all barrister coves looks forward to +- a seat on the hop sack. Well, I’ll bet a bull to fivepence, +that the grinner gets upon it, and the snarler doesn’t; at any +rate, that he gets there first. I calls my cove - for he is my +cove - a snarler; because your first-rates at matthew mattocks are called +snarlers, and for no other reason; for the chap, though with a high +front, is a good chap, and once drank a glass of ale with me, after +buying an animal out of my stable. I have often thought it a pity +he wasn’t born with a grin on his face like the son of Ugly <i>Moses</i>. +It is true he would scarcely then have been an out and outer at Latin +and matthew mattocks, but what need of either to a chap born with a +grin? Talk of being born with a silver spoon in one’s mouth! +give me a cove born with a grin on his face - a much better endowment.<br> +<br> +“I will now shorten my history as much as I can, for we have talked +as much as folks do during a whole night in the Commons’ House, +though, of course, not with so much learning, or so much to the purpose, +because - why? They are in the House of Commons, and we in a public +room of an inn at Horncastle. The goodness of the ale, do ye see, +never depending on what it is made of, oh, no! but on the fashion and +appearance of the jug in which it is served up. After being turned +out of the firm, I got my living in two or three honest ways, which +I shall not trouble you with describing. I did not like any of +them, however, as they did not exactly suit my humour; at last I found +one which did. One Saturday afternoon, I chanced to be in the +cattle-market of a place about eighty miles from here; there I won the +favour of an old gentleman who sold dickeys. He had a very shabby +squad of animals, without soul or spirit; nobody would buy them, till +I leaped upon their hinder ends, and by merely wriggling in a particular +manner, made them caper and bound so to people’s liking, that +in a few hours every one of them was sold at very sufficient prices. +The old gentleman was so pleased with my skill, that he took me home +with him, and in a very little time into partnership. It’s +a good thing to have a gift, but yet better to have two. I might +have got a very decent livelihood by throwing stones, but I much question +whether I should ever have attained to the position in society which +I now occupy, but for my knowledge of animals. I lived very comfortably +with the old gentleman till he died, which he did in about a fortnight +after he had laid his old lady in the ground. Having no children, +he left me what should remain after he had been buried decently, and +the remainder was six dickeys and thirty shillings in silver. +I remained in the dickey trade ten years, during which time I saved +a hundred pounds. I then embarked in the horse line. One +day, being in the - market on a Saturday, I saw Mary Fulcher with a +halter round her neck, led about by a man, who offered to sell her for +eighteen-pence. I took out the money forthwith and bought her; +the man was her husband, a basket-maker, with whom she had lived several +years without having any children; he was a drunken, quarrel-some fellow, +and having had a dispute with her the day before, he determined to get +rid of her, by putting a halter round her neck and leading her to the +cattle-market, as if she were a mare, which he had, it seems, a right +to do; - all women being considered mares by old English law, and, indeed, +still called mares in certain counties, where genuine old English is +still preserved. That same afternoon, the man who had been her +husband, having got drunk in a public-house, with the money which he +had received for her, quarrelled with another man, and receiving a blow +under the ear, fell upon the floor, and died of artiflex; and in less +than three weeks I was married to Mary Fulcher, by virtue of regular +bans. I am told she was legally my property by virtue of my having +bought her with a halter round her neck; but, to tell you the truth, +I think everybody should live by his trade, and I didn’t wish +to act shabbily towards our parson, who is a good fellow, and has certainly +a right to his fees. A better wife than Mary Fulcher - I mean +Mary Dale - no one ever had; she has borne me several children, and +has at all times shown a willingness to oblige me, and to be my faithful +wife. Amongst other things, I begged her to have done with her +family, and I believe she has never spoken to them since.<br> +<br> +“I have thriven very well in business, and my name is up as being +a person who can be depended on, when folks treats me handsomely. +I always make a point when a gentleman comes to me, and says, ‘Mr. +Dale,’ or ‘John,’ for I have no objection to be called +John by a gentleman - ‘I wants a good horse, and am ready to pay +a good price’ - I always makes a point, I say, to furnish him +with an animal worth the money; but when I sees a fellow, whether he +calls himself gentleman or not, wishing to circumvent me, what does +I do? I doesn’t quarrel with him; not I; but, letting him +imagine he is taking me in, I contrives to sell him a screw for thirty +pounds, not worth thirty shillings. All honest respectable people +have at present great confidence in me, and frequently commissions me +to buy them horses at great fairs like this.<br> +<br> +“This short young gentleman was recommended to me by a great landed +proprietor, to whom he bore letters of recommendation from some great +prince in his own country, who had a long time ago been entertained +at the house of the landed proprietor, and the consequence is, that +I brings young six foot six to Horncastle, and purchases for him the +horse of the Romany Rye. I don’t do these kind things for +nothing, it is true; that can’t be expected; for every one must +live by his trade; but, as I said before, when I am treated handsomely, +I treat folks so. Honesty, I have discovered, as perhaps some +other people have, is by far the best policy; though, as I also said +before, when I’m along with thieves, I can beat them at their +own game. If I am obliged to do it, I can pass off the veriest +screw as a flying drummedary, for even when I was a child I had found +out by various means what may be done with animals. I wish now +to ask a civil question, Mr. Romany Rye. Certain folks have told +me that you are a horse witch; are you one, or are you not?”<br> +<br> +“I, like yourself,” said I, “know, to a certain extent, +what may be done with animals.”<br> +<br> +“Then how would you, Mr. Romany Rye, pass off the veriest screw +in the world for a flying drummedary?”<br> +<br> +“By putting a small live eel down his throat; as long as the eel +remained in his stomach, the horse would appear brisk and lively in +a surprising degree.”<br> +<br> +“And how would you contrive to make a regular kicker and biter +appear so tame and gentle, that any respectable fat old gentleman of +sixty, who wanted an easy goer, would be glad to purchase him for fifty +pounds?”<br> +<br> +“By pouring down his throat four pints of generous old ale, which +would make him so happy and comfortable, that he would not have the +heart to kick or bite anybody, for a season at least.”<br> +<br> +“And where did you learn all this?” said the jockey.<br> +<br> +“I have read about the eel in an old English book, and about the +making drunk in a Spanish novel, and, singularly enough, I was told +the same things by a wild blacksmith in Ireland. Now tell me, +do you bewitch horses in this way?”<br> +<br> +“I?” said the jockey; “mercy upon us! I wouldn’t +do such things for a hatful of money. No, no, preserve me from +live eels and hocussing! And now let me ask you, how would you +spirit a horse out of a field?”<br> +<br> +“How would I spirit a horse out of a field?”<br> +<br> +“Yes; supposing you were down in the world, and had determined +on taking up the horse-stealing line of business.”<br> +<br> +“Why, I should - But I tell you what, friend, I see you +are trying to pump me, and I tell you plainly that I will hear something +from you with respect to your art, before I tell you anything more. +Now how would you whisper a horse out of a field, provided you were +down in the world, and so forth?”<br> +<br> +“Ah, ah, I see you are up to a game, Mr. Romany: however, I am +a gentleman in mind, if not by birth, and I scorn to do the unhandsome +thing to anybody who has dealt fairly towards me. Now you told +me something I didn’t know, and I’ll tell you something +which perhaps you do know. I whispers a horse out of a field in +this way: I have a mare in my stable; well, in the early season of the +year I goes into my stable - Well, I puts the sponge into a small bottle +which I keeps corked. I takes my bottle in my hand, and goes into +a field, suppose by night, where there is a very fine stag horse. +I manage with great difficulty to get within ten yards of the horse, +who stands staring at me just ready to run away. I then uncorks +my bottle, presses my fore-finger to the sponge, and holds it out to +the horse, the horse gives a sniff, then a start, and comes nearer. +I corks up my bottle and puts it into my pocket. My business is +done, for the next two hours the horse would follow me anywhere - the +difficulty, indeed, would be to get rid of him. Now is that your +way of doing business?”<br> +<br> +“My way of doing business? Mercy upon us! I wouldn’t +steal a horse in that way, or, indeed, in any way, for all the money +in the world: however, let me tell you, for your comfort, that a trick +somewhat similar is described in the history of Herodotus.”<br> +<br> +“In the history of Herod’s ass!” said the jockey; +“well, if I did write a book, it should be about something more +genteel than a dickey.”<br> +<br> +“I did not say Herod’s ass,” said I, “but Herodotus, +a very genteel writer, I assure you, who wrote a history about very +genteel people, in a language no less genteel than Greek, more than +two thousand years ago. There was a dispute as to who should be +king amongst certain imperious chieftains. At last they agreed +to obey him whose horse should neigh first on a certain day, in front +of the royal palace, before the rising of the sun; for you must know +that they did not worship the person who made the sun as we do, but +the sun itself. So one of these chieftains, talking over the matter +to his groom, and saying he wondered who would be king, the fellow said, +‘Why you, master, or I don’t know much about horses.’ +So the day before the day of trial, what does the groom do, but take +his master’s horse before the palace and introduce him to a mare +in the stable, and then lead him forth again. Well, early the +next day all the chieftains on their horses appeared in front of the +palace before the dawn of day. Not a horse neighed but one, and +that was the horse of him who had consulted with his groom, who, thinking +of the animal within the stable, gave such a neigh that all the buildings +rang. His rider was forthwith elected king, and a brave king he +was. So this shows what seemingly wonderful things may be brought +about by a little preparation.”<br> +<br> +“It doth,” said the jockey; “what was the chap’s +name?”<br> +<br> +“His name - his name - Darius Hystaspes.”<br> +<br> +“And the groom’s?”<br> +<br> +“I don’t know.”<br> +<br> +“And he made a good king?”<br> +<br> +“First-rate.”<br> +<br> +“Only think! well, if he made a good king, what a wonderful king +the groom would have made, through whose knowledge of ‘orses he +was put on the throne. And now another question, Mr. Romany Rye, +have you particular words which have power to soothe or aggravate horses?”<br> +<br> +“You should ask me,” said I, “whether I have horses +that can be aggravated or soothed by particular words. No words +have any particular power over horses or other animals who have never +heard them before - how, should they? But certain animals connect +ideas of misery or enjoyment with particular words which they are acquainted +with. I’ll give you an example. I knew a cob in Ireland +that could be driven to a state of kicking madness by a particular word, +used by a particular person, in a particular tone; but that word was +connected with a very painful operation which had been performed upon +him by that individual, who had frequently employed it at a certain +period whilst the animal had been under his treatment. The same +cob could be soothed in a moment by another word, used by the same individual +in a very different kind of tone; the word was deaghblasda, or sweet +tasted. Some time after the operation, whilst the cob was yet +under his hands, the fellow - who was what the Irish call a fairy smith +- had done all he could to soothe the creature, and had at last succeeded +by giving it gingerbread-buttons, of which the cob became passionately +fond. Invariably, however, before giving it a button, he said, +‘Deaghblasda,’ with which word the cob by degrees associated +an idea of unmixed enjoyment: so if he could rouse the cob to madness +by the word which recalled the torture to its remembrance, he could +as easily soothe it by the other word, which the cob knew would be instantly +followed by the button, which the smith never failed to give him after +using the word deaghblasda.”<br> +<br> +“There is nothing wonderful to be done,” said the jockey, +“without a good deal of preparation, as I know myself. Folks +stare and wonder at certain things which they would only laugh at if +they knew how they were done; and to prove what I say is true, I will +give you one or two examples. Can either of you lend me a handkerchief? +That won’t do,” said he, as I presented him with a silk +one. “I wish for a delicate white handkerchief. That’s +just the kind of thing,” said he, as the Hungarian offered him +a fine white cambric handkerchief, beautifully worked with gold at the +hems; “now you shall see me set this handkerchief on fire.” +“Don’t let him do so by any means,” said the Hungarian, +speaking to me in German, “it is the gift of a lady whom I highly +admire, and I would not have it burnt for the world.” “He +has no occasion to be under any apprehension,” said the jockey, +after I had interpreted to him what the Hungarian had said, “I +will restore it to him uninjured, or my name is not Jack Dale.” +Then sticking the handkerchief carelessly into the left side of his +bosom, he took the candle, which by this time had burnt very low, and +holding his head back, he applied the flame to the handkerchief, which +instantly seemed to catch fire. “What do you think of that?” +said he to the Hungarian. “Why, that you have ruined me,” +said the latter. “No harm done, I assure you,” said +the jockey, who presently, clapping his hand on his bosom, extinguished +the fire, and returned the handkerchief to the Hungarian, asking him +if it was burnt. “I see no burn upon it,” said the +Hungarian; “but in the name of Gott, how could you set it on fire +without burning it?” “I never set it on fire at all,” +said the jockey; “I set this on fire,” showing us a piece +of half-burnt calico. “I placed this calico above it, and +lighted not the handkerchief, but the rag. Now I will show you +something else. I have a magic shilling in my pocket, which I +can make run up along my arm. But, first of all, I would gladly +know whether either of you can do the like.” Thereupon the +Hungarian and myself, putting our hands into our pockets, took out shillings, +and endeavoured to make them run up our arms, but utterly failed; both +shillings, after we had made two or three attempts, falling to the ground. +“What noncomposses you both are,” said the jockey; and placing +a shilling on the end of the fingers of his right hand he made strange +faces to it, drawing back his head, whereupon the shilling instantly +began to run up his arm, occasionally hopping and jumping as if it were +bewitched, always endeavouring to make towards the head of the jockey.<br> +<br> +“How do I do that?” said he, addressing himself to me. +“I really do not know,” said I, “unless it is by the +motion of your arm.” “The motion of my nonsense,” +said the jockey, and, making a dreadful grimace, the shilling hopped +upon his knee, and began to run up his thigh and to climb up his breast. +“How is that done?” said he again. “By witchcraft, +I suppose,” said I. “There you are right,” said +the jockey; “by the witchcraft of one of Miss Berners’ hairs; +the end of one of her long hairs is tied to that shilling by means of +a hole in it, and the other end goes round my neck by means of a loop; +so that, when I draw back my head, the shilling follows it. I +suppose you wish to know how I got the hair,” said he, grinning +at me. “I will tell you. I once, in the course of +my ridings, saw Miss Berners beneath a hedge, combing out her long hair, +and, being rather a modest kind of person, what must I do but get off +my horse, tie him to a gate, go up to her, and endeavour to enter into +conversation with her. After giving her the sele of the day, and +complimenting her on her hair, I asked her to give me one of the threads; +whereupon she gave me such a look, and, calling me fellow, told me to +take myself off. ‘I must have a hair first,’ said +I, making a snatch at one. I believe I hurt her; but, whether +I did or not, up she started, and, though her hair was unbound, gave +me the only drubbing I ever had in my life. Lor! how, with her +right hand, she fibbed me whilst she held me round the neck with her +left arm; I was soon glad to beg her pardon on my knees, which she gave +me in a moment, when she saw me in that condition, being the most placable +creature in the world, and not only her pardon, but one of the hairs +which I longed for, which I put through a shilling, with which I have +on evenings after fairs, like this, frequently worked what seemed to +those who looked on downright witchcraft, but which is nothing more +than pleasant deception. And now, Mr. Romany Rye, to testify my +regard for you, I give you the shilling and the hair. I think +you have a kind of respect for Miss Berners; but whether you have or +not, keep them as long as you can, and whenever you look at them think +of the finest woman in England, and of John Dale, the jockey of Horncastle. +I believe I have told you my history,” said he - “no, not +quite; there is one circumstance I had passed over. I told you +that I have thriven very well in business, and so I have, upon the whole; +at any rate, I find myself comfortably off now. I have horses, +money, and owe nobody a groat; at any rate, nothing but what I could +pay to-morrow. Yet I have had my dreary day, ay, after I had obtained +what I call a station in the world. All of a sudden, about five +years ago, everything seemed to go wrong with me - horses became sick +or died, people who owed me money broke or ran away, my house caught +fire, in fact, everything went against me; and not from any mismanagement +of my own. I looked round for help, but - what do you think? - +nobody would help me. Somehow or other it had got abroad that +I was in difficulties, and everybody seemed disposed to avoid me, as +if I had got the plague. Those who were always offering me help +when I wanted none, now, when they thought me in trouble, talked of +arresting me. Yes; two particular friends of mine, who had always +been offering me their purses when my own was stuffed full, now talked +of arresting me, though I only owed the scoundrels a hundred pounds +each; and they would have done so, provided I had not paid them what +I owed them; and how did I do that? Why, I was able to do it because +I found a friend - and who was that friend? Why, a man who has +since been hung, of whom everybody has heard, and of whom everybody +for the next hundred years will occasionally talk.<br> +<br> +“One day, whilst in trouble, I was visited by a person I had occasionally +met at sporting-dinners. He came to look after a Suffolk Punch, +the best horse, by the bye, that anybody can purchase to drive, it being +the only animal of the horse kind in England that will pull twice at +a dead weight. I told him that I had none at that time that I +could recommend; in fact, that every horse in my stable was sick. +He then invited me to dine with him at an inn close by, and I was glad +to go with him, in the hope of getting rid of unpleasant thoughts. +After dinner, during which he talked nothing but slang, observing I +looked very melancholy, he asked me what was the matter with me, and +I, my heart being opened by the wine he had made me drink, told him +my circumstances without reserve. With an oath or two for not +having treated him at first like a friend, he said he would soon set +me all right; and pulling out two hundred pounds, told me to pay him +when I could. I felt as I never felt before; however, I took his +notes, paid my sneaks, and in less than three months was right again, +and had returned him his money. On paying it to him, I said that +I had now a lunch which would just suit him, saying that I would give +it to him - a free gift - for nothing. He swore at me; - telling +me to keep my Punch, for that he was suited already. I begged +him to tell me how I could requite him for his kindness, whereupon, +with the most dreadful oath I ever heard, he bade me come and see him +hanged when his time was come. I wrung his hand, and told him +I would, and I kept my word. The night before the day he was hanged +at H---, I harnessed a Suffolk Punch to my light gig, the same Punch +which I had offered to him, which I have ever since kept, and which +brought me and this short young man to Horncastle, and in eleven hours +I drove that Punch one hundred and ten miles. I arrived at H--- +just in the nick of time. There was the ugly jail - the scaffold +- and there upon it stood the only friend I ever had in the world. +Driving my Punch, which was all in a foam, into the midst of the crowd, +which made way for me as if it knew what I came for, I stood up in my +gig, took off my hat, and shouted, ‘God Almighty bless you, Jack!’ +The dying man turned his pale grim face towards me - for his face was +always somewhat grim, do you see - nodded and said, or I thought I heard +him say, ‘All right, old chap.’ The next moment - +my eyes water. He had a high heart, got into a scrape whilst in +the marines, lost his half-pay, took to the turf, ring, gambling, and +at last cut the throat of a villain who had robbed him of nearly all +he had. But he had good qualities, and I know for certain that +he never did half the bad things laid to his charge; for example, he +never bribed Tom Oliver to fight cross, as it was said he did on the +day of the awful thunder-storm. Ned Flatnose fairly beat Tom Oliver, +for though Ned was not what’s called a good fighter, he had a +particular blow, which if he could put in he was sure to win. +His right shoulder, do you see, was two inches farther back than it +ought to have been, and consequently his right fist generally fell short; +but if he could swing himself round, and put in a blow with that right +arm, he could kill or take away the senses of anybody in the world. +It was by putting in that blow in his second fight with Spring that +he beat noble Tom. Spring beat him like a sack in the first battle, +but in the second Ned Painter - for that was his real name - contrived +to put in his blow, and took the senses out of Spring; and in like manner +he took the senses out of Tom Oliver.<br> +<br> +“Well, some are born to be hanged, and some are not; and many +of those who are not hanged are much worse than those who are. +Jack, with many a good quality, is hanged, whilst that fellow of a lord, +who wanted to get the horse from you at about two-thirds of his value, +without a single good quality in the world, is not hanged, and probably +will remain so. You ask the reason why, perhaps. I’ll +tell you; the lack of a certain quality called courage, which Jack possessed +in abundance, will preserve him; from the love which he bears his own +neck he will do nothing which can bring him to the gallows. In +my rough way I’ll draw their characters from their childhood, +and then ask whether Jack was not the best character of the two. +Jack was a rough, audacious boy, fond of fighting, going a birds’-nesting, +but I never heard he did anything particularly cruel save once, I believe, +tying a canister to a butcher’s dog’s tail; whilst this +fellow of a lord was by nature a savage beast, and when a boy would +in winter pluck poor fowls naked, and set them running on the ice and +in the snow, and was particularly fond of burning cats alive in the +fire. Jack, when a lad, gets a commission on board a ship as an +officer of horse marines, and in two or three engagements behaves quite +up to the mark - at least of a marine; the marines having no particular +character for courage, you know - never having run to the guns and fired +them like madmen after the blue jackets had had more than enough. +Oh, dear me, no! My lord gets into the valorous British army, +where cowardice - Oh, dear me! - is a thing almost entirely unknown; +and being on the field of Waterloo the day before the battle, falls +off his horse, and, pretending to be hurt in the back, gets himself +put on the sick list - a pretty excuse - hurting his back - for not +being present at such a fight. Old Benbow, after part of both +his legs had been shot away in a sea-fight, made the carpenter make +him a cradle to hold his bloody stumps, and continued on deck, cheering +his men till he died. Jack returns home, and gets into trouble, +and having nothing to subsist by but his wits, gets his living by the +ring and the turf, doing many an odd kind of thing, I dare say, but +not half those laid to his charge. My lord does much the same +without the excuse for doing so which Jack had, for he had plenty of +means, is a leg, and a black, only in a more polished way, and with +more cunning, and I may say success, having done many a rascally thing +never laid to his charge. Jack at last cuts the throat of a villain +who had cheated him of all he had in the world, and who, I am told, +was in many points the counterpart of this screw and white feather, +is taken up, tried, and executed; and certainly taking away a man’s +life is a dreadful thing; but is there nothing as bad? Whitefeather +will cut no person’s throat - I will not say who has cheated him, +for, being a cheat himself, he will take good care that nobody cheats +him, but he’ll do something quite as bad; out of envy to a person +who never injured him, and whom he hates for being more clever and respected +than himself, he will do all he possibly can, by backbiting and every +unfair means, to do that person a mortal injury. But Jack is hanged, +and my lord it not. Is that right? My wife, Mary Fulcher +- I beg her pardon, Mary Dale - who is a Methodist, and has heard the +mighty preacher, Peter Williams, says some people are preserved from +hanging by the grace of God. With her I differs, and says it is +from want of courage. This Whitefeather, with one particle of +Jack’s courage, and with one tithe of his good qualities, would +have been hanged long ago, for he has ten times Jack’s malignity. +Jack was hanged because, along with his bad qualities, he had courage +and generosity; this fellow is not, because with all Jack’s bad +qualities, and many more, amongst which is cunning, he has neither courage +nor generosity. Think of a fellow like that putting down two hundred +pounds to relieve a distressed fellow-creature; why he would rob, but +for the law and the fear it fills him with, a workhouse child of its +breakfast, as the saying is - and has been heard to say that he would +not trust his own father for sixpence, and he can’t imagine why +such a thing as credit should be ever given. I never heard a person +give him a good word - stay, stay, yes! I once heard an old parson, +to whom I sold a Punch, say that he had the art of receiving company +gracefully and dismissing them without refreshment. I don’t +wish to be too hard with him, and so let him make the most of that compliment. +Well! he manages to get on, whilst Jack is hanged; not quite enviably, +however; he has had his rubs, and pretty hard ones - everybody knows +he slunk from Waterloo, and occasionally checks him with so doing; whilst +he has been rejected by a woman - what a mortification to the low pride +of which the scoundrel has plenty! There’s a song about +both circumstances, which may, perhaps, ring in his ears on a dying +bed. It’s a funny kind of song, set to the old tune of the +Lord-Lieutenant or Deputy, and with it I will conclude my discourse, +for I really think it’s past one.” The jockey then, +with a very tolerable voice, sung the following song:-<br> +<br> +<br> +THE JOCKEY’S SONG.<br> +<br> +Now list to a ditty both funny and true! -<br> +Merrily moves the dance along -<br> +A ditty that tells of a coward and screw,<br> +My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young.<br> +<br> +Sir Plume, though not liking a bullet at all, -<br> +Merrily moves the dance along -<br> +Had yet resolution to go to a <i>ball</i>,<br> +My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young.<br> +<br> +“Woulez wous danser, mademoiselle?” -<br> +Merrily moves the dance along; -<br> +Said she, “Sir, to dance I should like very well,”<br> +My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young.<br> +<br> +They danc’d to the left, and they danc’d to the right, -<br> +Merrily moves the dance along; -<br> +And her troth the fair damsel bestow’d on the knight,<br> +My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young.<br> +<br> +“Now what shall I fetch you, mademoiselle?” -<br> +Merrily moves the dance along; -<br> +Said she, “Sir, an ice I should like very well,”<br> +My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young.<br> +<br> +But the ice, when he’d got it, he instantly ate, -<br> +Merrily moves the dance along; -<br> +Although his poor partner was all in a fret,<br> +My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young.<br> +<br> +He ate up the ice like a prudent young lord, -<br> +Merrily moves the dance along; -<br> +For he saw ‘t was the very last ice on the board, -<br> +My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young.<br> +<br> +“Now, when shall we marry?” the gentleman cried; -<br> +Merrily moves the dance along; -<br> +“Sir, get you to Jordan,” the damsel replied,<br> +My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young.<br> +<br> +“I never will wed with the pitiful elf” -<br> +Merrily moves the dance along -<br> +“Who ate up the ice which I wanted myself,”<br> +My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young.<br> +<br> +“I’d pardon your backing from red Waterloo,” -<br> +Merrily moves the dance along -<br> +“But I never will wed with a coward and screw,”<br> +My Lord-Lieutenant so free and young.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XLIII<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The Church.<br> +<br> +<br> +The next morning I began to think of departing; I had sewed up the money +which I had received for the horse in a portion of my clothing, where +I entertained no fears for its safety, with the exception of a small +sum in notes, gold, and silver, which I carried in my pocket. +Ere departing, however, I determined to stroll about and examine the +town, and observe more particularly the humours of the fair than I had +hitherto an opportunity of doing. The town, when I examined it, +offered no object worthy of attention but its church - an edifice of +some antiquity; under the guidance of an old man, who officiated as +sexton, I inspected its interior attentively, occasionally conversing +with my guide, who, however, seemed much more disposed to talk about +horses than the church. “No good horses in the fair this +time, measter,” said he; “none but one brought hither by +a chap whom nobody knows, and bought by a foreigneering man, who came +here with Jack Dale. The horse fetched a good swinging price, +which is said, however, to be much less than its worth; for the horse +is a regular clipper; not such a one, ‘tis said, has been seen +in the fair for several summers. Lord Whitefeather says that he +believes the fellow who brought him to be a highwayman, and talks of +having him taken up, but Lord Whitefeather is only in a rage because +he could not get him for himself. The chap would not sell it to +un; Lord Screw wanted to beat him down, and the chap took huff, said +he wouldn’t sell it to him at no price, and accepted the offer +of the foreigneering man, or of Jack, who was his ‘terpreter, +and who scorned to higgle about such a hanimal, because Jack is a gentleman, +though bred a dickey-boy, whilst t’other, though bred a lord, +is a screw and a whitefeather. Every one says the cove was right, +and I says so too; I likes spirit, and if the cove were here, and in +your place, measter, I would invite him to drink a pint of beer. +Good horses are scarce now, measter, ay, and so are good men, quite +a different set from what there were when I was young; that was the +time for men and horses. Lord bless you, I know all the breeders +about here; they are not a bad set, and they breed a very fairish set +of horses, but they are not like what their fathers were, nor are their +horses like their fathers’ horses. Now there is Mr. - the +great breeder, a very fairish man, with very fairish horses; but, Lord +bless you, he’s nothing to what his father was, nor his steeds +to his father’s; I ought to know, for I was at the school here +with his father, and afterwards for many a year helped him to get up +his horses; that was when I was young, measter - those were the days. +You look at that monument, measter,” said he, as I stopped and +looked attentively at a monument on the southern side of the church +near the altar; “that was put up for a rector of this church, +who lived a long time ago, in Oliver’s time, and was ill-treated +and imprisoned by Oliver and his men; you will see all about it on the +monument. There was a grand battle fought nigh this place, between +Oliver’s men and the Royal party, and the Royal party had the +worst of it, as I’m told they generally had; and Oliver’s +men came into the town, and did a great deal of damage, and ill-treated +the people. I can’t remember anything about the matter myself, +for it happened just one hundred years before I was born, but my father +was acquainted with an old countryman, who lived not many miles from +here, who said he remembered perfectly well the day of the battle; that +he was a boy at the time, and was working in a field near the place +where the battle was fought; and heard shouting, and noise of firearms, +and also the sound of several balls, which fell in the field near him. +Come this way, measter, and I will show you some remains of that day’s +field.” Leaving the monument, on which was inscribed an +account of the life and sufferings of the Royalist Rector of Horncastle, +I followed the sexton to the western end of the church, where, hanging +against the wall, were a number of scythes stuck in the ends of poles. +“Those are the weapons, measter,” said the sexton, “which +the great people put into the hands of the country folks, in order that +they might use them against Oliver’s men; ugly weapons enough; +however, Oliver’s men won, and Sir Jacob Ashley and his party +were beat. And a rare time Oliver and his men had of it, till +Oliver died, when the other party got the better, not by fighting, ‘tis +said, but through a General Monk, who turned sides. Ah, the old +fellow that my father knew, said he well remembered the time when General +Monk went over and proclaimed Charles the Second. Bonfires were +lighted everywhere, oxen roasted, and beer drunk by pailfuls; the country +folks were drunk with joy, and something else; sung scurvy songs about +Oliver to the tune of Barney Banks, and pelted his men, wherever they +found them, with stones and dirt.” “The more ungrateful +scoundrels they,” said I. “Oliver and his men fought +the battle of English independence against a wretched king and corrupt +lords. Had I been living at the time, I should have been proud +to be a trooper of Oliver.” “You would, measter, would +you? Well, I never quarrels with the opinions of people who come +to look at the church, and certainly independence is a fine thing. +I like to see a chap of an independent spirit, and if I were now to +see the cove that refused to sell his horse to my Lord Screw and Whitefeather, +and let Jack Dale have him, I would offer to treat him to a pint of +beer - e’es, I would, verily. Well, measter, you have now +seen the church, and all there’s in it worth seeing - so I’ll +just lock up, and go and finish digging the grave I was about when you +came, after which I must go into the fair to see how matters are going +on. Thank ye, measter,” said he, as I put something into +his hand; “thank ye kindly; ‘tis not every one who gives +me a shilling now-a-days who comes to see the church, but times are +very different from what they were when I was young; I was not sexton +then, but something better; helped Mr. - with his horses, and got many +a broad crown. Those were the days, measter, both for men and +horses - and I say, measter, if men and horses were so much better when +I was young than they are now, what, I wonder, must they have been in +the time of Oliver and his men?”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XLIV<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +An Old Acquaintance.<br> +<br> +<br> +Leaving the church, I strolled through the fair, looking at the horses, +listening to the chaffering of the buyers and sellers, and occasionally +putting in a word of my own, which was not always received with much +deference; suddenly, however, on a whisper arising that I was the young +cove who had brought the wonderful horse to the fair which Jack Dale +had bought for the foreigneering man, I found myself an object of the +greatest attention; those who had before replied with stuff! and nonsense! +to what I said, now listened with the greatest eagerness to any nonsense +I wished to utter, and I did not fail to utter a great deal; presently, +however, becoming disgusted with the beings about me, I forced my way, +not very civilly, through my crowd of admirers; and passing through +an alley and a back street, at last reached an outskirt of the fair, +where no person appeared to know me. Here I stood, looking vacantly +on what was going on, musing on the strange infatuation of my species, +who judge of a person’s words, not from their intrinsic merit, +but from the opinion - generally an erroneous one - which they have +formed of the person. From this reverie I was roused by certain +words which sounded near me, uttered in a strange tone, and in a strange +cadence - the words were, “them that finds, wins; and them that +can’t find, loses.” Turning my eyes in the direction +from which the words proceeded, I saw six or seven people, apparently +all countrymen, gathered round a person standing behind a tall white +table of very small compass. “What!” said I, “the +thimble-engro of - Fair here at Horncastle.” Advancing nearer, +however, I perceived that though the present person was a thimble-engro, +he was a very different one from my old acquaintance of - Fair. +The present one was a fellow about half-a-foot taller than the other. +He had a long, haggard, wild face, and was dressed in a kind of jacket, +something like that of a soldier, with dirty hempen trousers, and with +a foreign-looking peaked hat on his head. He spoke with an accent +evidently Irish, and occasionally changed the usual thimble formule, +“them that finds wins, and them that can’t - och, sure! +- they loses;” saying also frequently, “your honour,” +instead of “my lord.” I observed, on drawing nearer, +that he handled the pea and thimble with some awkwardness, like that +which might be expected from a novice in the trade. He contrived, +however, to win several shillings, for he did not seem to play for gold, +from “their honours.” Awkward, as he was, he evidently +did his best, and never flung a chance away by permitting any one to +win. He had just won three shillings from a farmer, who, incensed +at his loss, was calling him a confounded cheat, and saying that he +would play no more, when up came my friend of the preceding day, Jack, +the jockey. This worthy, after looking at the thimble-man a moment +or two, with a peculiarly crafty glance, cried out, as he clapped down +a shilling on the table, “I will stand you, old fellow!” +“Them that finds wins; and them that can’t - och, sure! +- they loses,” said the thimble-man. The game commenced, +and Jack took up the thimble without finding the pea; another shilling +was produced, and lost in the same manner; “this is slow work,” +said Jack, banging down a guinea on the table; “can you cover +that, old fellow?” The man of the thimble looked at the +gold, and then at him who produced it, and scratched his head. +“Come, cover that, or I shall be off,” said the jockey. +“Och, sure, my lord! - no, I mean your honour - no, sure, your +lordship,” said the other, “if I covers it at all, it must +be with silver, for divil a bit of gold have I by me.” “Well, +then, produce the value in silver,” said the jockey, “and +do it quickly, for I can’t be staying here all day.” +The thimble-man hesitated, looked at Jack with a dubious look, then +at the gold, and then scratched his head. There was now a laugh +amongst the surrounders, which evidently nettled the fellow, who forthwith +thrust his hand into his pocket, and pulling out all his silver treasure, +just contrived to place the value of the guinea on the table. +“Them that finds wins, and them that can’t find - <i>loses</i>,” +interrupted Jack, lifting up a thimble, out of which rolled a pea. +“There, paddy, what do you think of that?” said he, seizing +the heap of silver with one hand, whilst he pocketed the guinea with +the other. The thimble-engro stood, for some time, like one transfixed, +his eyes glaring wildly, now at the table, and now at his successful +customers; at last he said, “Arrah, sure, master! - no, I manes +my lord - you are not going to ruin a poor boy!” “Ruin +you!” sail the other; “what! by winning a guinea’s +change? a pretty small dodger you - if you have not sufficient capital, +why do you engage in so deep a trade as thimbling? come, will you stand +another game?” “Och, sure, master, no! the twenty +shillings and one which you have cheated me of were all I had in the +world.” “Cheated you,” said Jack, “say +that again, and I will knock you down.” “Arrah! sure, +master, you knows that the pea under the thimble was not mine; here +is mine, master; now give me back my money.” “A likely +thing,” said Jack; “no, no, I know a trick worth two or +three of that; whether the pea was yours or mine, you will never have +your twenty shillings and one again; and if I have ruined you, all the +better; I’d gladly ruin all such villains as you, who ruin poor +men with your dirty tricks, whom you would knock down and rob on the +road, if you had but courage; not that I mean to keep your shillings, +with the exception of the two you cheated from me, which I’ll +keep. A scramble, boys! a scramble!” said he, flinging up +all the silver into the air, with the exception of the two shillings; +and a scramble there instantly was, between the rustics who had lost +their money and the urchins who came running up; the poor thimble-engro +tried likewise to have his share; and though he flung himself down, +in order to join more effectually in the scramble, he was unable to +obtain a single sixpence; and having in his rage given some of his fellow-scramblers +a cuff or two, he was set upon by the boys and country fellows, and +compelled to make an inglorious retreat with his table, which had been +flung down in the scuffle, and had one of its legs broken. As +he retired, the rabble hooted, and Jack, holding up in derision the +pea with which he had outmanoeuvred him, exclaimed, “I always +carry this in my pocket in order to be a match for vagabonds like you.”<br> +<br> +The tumult over, Jack gone, and the rabble dispersed, I followed the +discomfited adventurer at a distance, who, leaving the town, went slowly +on, carrying his dilapidated piece of furniture; till coming to an old +wall by the roadside, he placed it on the ground, and sat down, seemingly +in deep despondency, holding his thumb to his mouth. Going nearly +up to him, I stood still, whereupon he looked up, and perceiving I was +looking steadfastly at him, he said, in an angry tone, “Arrah! +what for are you staring at me so? By my shoul, I think you are +one of the thaives who are after robbing me. I think I saw you +among them, and if I were only sure of it, I would take the liberty +of trying to give you a big bating.” “You have had +enough of trying to give people a beating,” said I; “you +had better be taking your table to some skilful carpenter to get it +repaired. He will do it for sixpence.” “Divil +a sixpence did you and your thaives leave me,” said he; “and +if you do not take yourself off, joy, I will be breaking your ugly head +with the foot of it.” “Arrah, Murtagh!” said +I, “would ye be breaking the head of your friend and scholar, +to whom you taught the blessed tongue of Oilien nan Naomha, in exchange +for a pack of cards?” Murtagh, for he it was, gazed at me +for a moment with a bewildered look; then, with a gleam of intelligence +in his eye, he said, “Shorsha! no, it can’t be - yes, by +my faith it is!” Then, springing up, and seizing me by the +hand, he said, “Yes, by the powers, sure enough it is Shorsha +agra! Arrah, Shorsha! where have you been this many a day? +Sure, you are not one of the spalpeens who are after robbing me?” +“Not I,” I replied, “but I saw all that happened. +Come, you must not take matters so to heart; cheer up; such things will +happen in connection with the trade you have taken up.” +“Sorrow befall the trade, and the thief who taught it me,” +said Murtagh; “and yet the trade is not a bad one, if I only knew +more of it, and had some one to help and back me. Och! the idea +of being cheated and bamboozled by that one-eyed thief in the horseman’s +dress.” “Let bygones be bygones, Murtagh,” said +I; “it is no use grieving for the past; sit down, and let us have +a little pleasant gossip. Arrah, Murtagh! when I saw you sitting +under the wall, with your thumb to your mouth, it brought to my mind +tales which you used to tell me all about Finn-ma-Coul. You have +not forgotten Finn-ma-Coul, Murtagh, and how he sucked wisdom out of +his thumb.” “Sorrow a bit have I forgot about him, +Shorsha,” said Murtagh, as we sat down together, “nor what +you yourself told me about the snake. Arrah, Shorsha! what ye +told me about the snake, bates anything I ever told you about Finn. +Ochone, Shorsha! perhaps you will be telling me about the snake once +more? I think the tale would do me good, and I have need of comfort, +God knows, ochone!” Seeing Murtagh in such a distressed +plight, I forthwith told him over again the tale of the snake, in precisely +the same words as I have related it in the first part of this history. +After which, I said, “Now, Murtagh, tit for tat; ye will be telling +me one of the old stories of Finn-ma-Coul.” “Och, +Shorsha! I haven’t heart enough,” said Murtagh. +“Thank you for your tale, but it makes me weep; it brings to my +mind Dungarvon times of old - I mean the times we were at school together.” +“Cheer up, man,” said I, “and let’s have the +story, and let it be about Ma-Coul and the salmon and his thumb.” +“Arrah, Shorsha! I can’t. Well, to oblige you, +I’ll give it you. Well, you know Ma-Coul was an exposed +child, and came floating over the salt sea in a chest which was cast +ashore at Veintry Bay. In the corner of that bay was a castle, +where dwelt a giant and his wife, very respectable and decent people, +and this giant, taking his morning walk along the bay, came to the place +where the child had been cast ashore in his box. Well, the giant +looked at the child, and being filled with compassion for his exposed +state, took the child up in his box, and carried him home to his castle, +where he and his wife, being dacent respectable people, as I telled +ye before, fostered the child and took care of him, till he became old +enough to go out to service and gain his livelihood, when they bound +him out apprentice to another giant, who lived in a castle up the country, +at some distance from the bay.<br> +<br> +“This giant, whose name was Darmod David Odeen, was not a respectable +person at all, but a big old vagabond. He was twice the size of +the other giant, who, though bigger than any man, was not a big giant; +for, as there are great and small men, so there are great and small +giants - I mean some are small when compared with the others. +Well, Finn served this giant a considerable time, doing all kinds of +hard and unreasonable service for him, and receiving all kinds of hard +words, and many a hard knock and kick to boot - sorrow befall the old +vagabond who could thus ill-treat a helpless foundling. It chanced +that one day the giant caught a salmon, near a salmon-leap upon his +estate - for, though a big ould blackguard, he was a person of considerable +landed property, and high sheriff for the county Cork. Well, the +giant brings home the salmon by the gills, and delivers it to Finn, +telling him to roast it for the giant’s dinner; ‘but take +care, ye young blackguard,’ he added, ‘that in roasting +it - and I expect ye to roast it well - you do not let a blister come +upon its nice satin skin, for if ye do, I will cut the head off your +shoulders.’ ‘Well,’ thinks Finn, ‘this +is a hard task; however, as I have done many hard tasks for him, I will +try and do this too, though I was never set to do anything yet half +so difficult.’ So he prepared his fire, and put his gridiron +upon it, and lays the salmon fairly and softly upon the gridiron, and +then he roasts it, turning it from one side to the other just in the +nick of time, before the soft satin skin could be blistered. However, +on turning it over the eleventh time - and twelve would have settled +the business - he found he had delayed a little bit of time too long +in turning it over, and that there was a small, tiny blister on the +soft outer skin. Well, Finn was in a mighty panic, remembering +the threats of the ould giant; however, he did not lose heart, but clapped +his thumb upon the blister in order to smooth it down. Now the +salmon, Shorsha, was nearly done, and the flesh thoroughly hot, so Finn’s +thumb was scalt, and he, clapping it to his mouth, sucked it, in order +to draw out the pain, and in a moment - hubbuboo! - became imbued with +all the wisdom of the world.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. Stop, Murtagh! stop!<br> +<br> +<i>Murtagh</i>. All the witchcraft, Shorsha.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. How wonderful!<br> +<br> +<i>Murtagh</i>. Was it not, Shorsha? The salmon, do you +see, was a fairy salmon.<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. What a strange coincidence<br> +<br> +<i>Murtagh</i>. A what, Shorsha?<br> +<br> +<i>Myself</i>. Why, that the very same tale should be told of +Finn-ma-Coul, which is related of Sigurd Fafnisbane.<br> +<br> +“What thief was that, Shorsha?”<br> +<br> +“Thief! ‘Tis true, he took the treasure of Fafnir. +Sigurd was the hero of the North, Murtagh, even as Finn is the great +hero of Ireland. He, too, according to one account, was an exposed +child, and came floating in a casket to a wild shore, where he was suckled +by a hind, and afterwards found and fostered by Mimir, a fairy blacksmith; +he, too, sucked wisdom from a burn. According to the Edda, he +burnt his finger whilst feeling of the heart of Fafnir, which he was +roasting, and putting it into his mouth in order to suck out the pain, +became imbued with all the wisdom of the world, the knowledge of the +language of birds, and what not. I have heard you tell the tale +of Finn a dozen times in the blessed days of old, but its identity with +the tale of Sigurd never occurred to me till now. It is true, +when I knew you of old, I had never read the tale of Sigurd, and have +since almost dismissed matters of Ireland from my mind; but as soon +as you told me again about Finn’s burning his finger, the coincidence +struck me. I say, Murtagh, the Irish owe much to the Danes - ”<br> +<br> +“Devil a bit, Shorsha, do they owe to the thaives, except many +a bloody bating and plundering, which they never paid them back. +Och, Shorsha! you, edicated in ould Ireland, to say that the Irish owes +anything good to the plundering villains - the Siol Loughlin.”<br> +<br> +“They owe them half their traditions, Murtagh, and amongst others, +Finn-ma-Coul and the burnt finger; and if ever I publish the Loughlin +songs, I’ll tell the world so.”<br> +<br> +“But, Shorsha, the world will never believe ye - to say nothing +of the Irish part of it.”<br> +<br> +“Then the world, Murtagh - to say nothing of the Irish part of +it - will be a fool, even as I have often thought it; the grand thing, +Murtagh, is to be able to believe oneself, and respect oneself. +How few whom the world believes believe and respect themselves.”<br> +<br> +“Och, Shorsha! shall I go on with the tale of Finn?”<br> +<br> +“I’d rather you should not, Murtagh; I know all about it +already.”<br> +<br> +“Then why did you bother me to tell it at first, Shorsha? +Och, it was doing my ownself good, and making me forget my own sorrowful +state, when ye interrupted me with your thaives of Danes! Och, +Shorsha! let me tell you how Finn, by means of sucking his thumb, and +the witchcraft he imbibed from it, contrived to pull off the arm of +the ould wagabone, Darmod David Odeen, whilst shaking hands with him +- for Finn could do no feat of strength without sucking his thumb, Shorsha, +as Conan the Bald told the son of Oisin in the song which I used to +sing ye in Dungarvon times of old;” and here Murtagh repeated +certain Irish words to the following effect: -<br> +<br> +<br> +“O little the foolish words I heed<br> +O Oisin’s son, from thy lips which come;<br> +No strength were in Finn for valorous deed,<br> +Unless to the gristle he suck’d his thumb.”<br> +<br> +<br> +“Enough is as good as a feast, Murtagh, I am no longer in the +cue for Finn. I would rather hear your own history. Now +tell us, man, all that has happened to ye since Dungarvon times of old?”<br> +<br> +“Och, Shorsha, it would be merely bringing all my sorrows back +upon me!”<br> +<br> +“Well, if I know all your sorrows, perhaps I shall be able to +find a help for them. I owe you much, Murtagh; you taught me Irish, +and I will do all I can to help you.”<br> +<br> +“Why, then, Shorsha, I’ll tell ye my history. Here +goes!”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XLV<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Murtagh’s Tale.<br> +<br> +<br> +“Well, Shorsha, about a year and a half after you left us - and +a sorrowful hour for us it was when ye left us, losing, as we did, your +funny stories of your snake - and the battles of your military - they +sent me to Paris and Salamanca, in order to make a saggart of me.”<br> +<br> +“Pray excuse me,” said I, “for interrupting you, but +what kind of place is Salamanca?”<br> +<br> +“Divil a bit did I ever see of it, Shorsha!”<br> +<br> +“Then why did ye say ye were sent there? Well, what kind +of place is Paris? Not that I care much about Paris.”<br> +<br> +“Sorrow a bit did I ever see of either them, Shorsha, for no one +sent me to either. When we says at home a person is going to Paris +and Salamanca, it manes that he is going abroad to study to be a saggart, +whether he goes to them places or not. No, I never saw either +- bad luck to them - I was shipped away from Cork up the straits to +a place called Leghorn, from which I was sent to - to a religious house, +where I was to be instructed in saggarting till they had made me fit +to cut a dacent figure in Ireland. We had a long and tedious voyage, +Shorsha; not so tedious, however, as it would have been had I been fool +enough to lave your pack of cards behind me, as the thaif, my brother +Denis, wanted to persuade me to do, in order that he might play with +them himself. With the cards I managed to have many a nice game +with the sailors, winning from them ha’pennies and sixpences until +the captain said I was ruining his men, and keeping them from their +duty; and, being a heretic and a Dutchman, swore that unless I gave +over he would tie me up to the mast and give me a round dozen. +This threat obliged me to be more on my guard, though I occasionally +contrived to get a game at night, and to win sixpennies and ha’pennies.<br> +<br> +“We reached Leghorn at last, and glad I was to leave the ship +and the master, who gave me a kick as I was getting over the side, bad +luck to the dirty heretic for kicking a son of the church, for I have +always been a true son of the church, Shorsha, and never quarrelled +with it unless it interfered with me in my playing at cards. I +left Leghorn with certain muleteers, with whom I played at cards at +the baiting-houses, and who speedily won from me all the ha’pennies +and sixpences I had won from the sailors. I got my money’s +worth, however, for I learnt from the muleteers all kind of quaint tricks +upon the cards, which I knew nothing of before; so I did not grudge +them what they chated me of, and when we parted we did so in kindness +on both sides. On getting to - I was received into the religious +house for Irishes. It was the Irish house, Shorsha, into which +I was taken, for I do not wish ye to suppose that I was in the English +religious house which there is in that city, in which a purty set are +educated, and in which purty doings are going on if all tales be true.<br> +<br> +“In this Irish house I commenced my studies, learning to sing +and to read the Latin prayers of the church. ‘Faith, Shorsha, +many’s the sorrowful day I passed in that house learning the prayers +and litanies, being half-starved, with no earthly diversion at all, +at all; until I took the cards out of my chest and began instructing +in card-playing the chum which I had with me in my cell; then I had +plenty of diversion along with him during the times when I was not engaged +in singing, and chanting, and saying the prayers of the church; there +was, however, some drawback in playing with my chum, for though he was +very clever in learning, divil a sixpence had he to play with, in which +respect he was like myself, the master who taught him, who had lost +all my money to the muleteers who taught me the tricks upon the cards; +by degrees, however, it began to be noised about the religious house +that Murtagh, from Hibrodary, <a name="citation1"></a><a href="#footnote1">{1}</a> +had a pack of cards with which he played with his chum in the cell; +whereupon other scholars of the religious house came to me, some to +be taught and others to play, so with some I played, and others I taught, +but neither to those who could play, or to those who could not, did +I teach the elegant tricks which I learnt from the muleteers. +Well, the scholars came to me for the sake of the cards, and the porter +and cook of the religious house, who could both play very well, came +also; at last I became tired of playing for nothing, so I borrowed a +few bits of silver from the cook, and played against the porter, and +by means of my tricks I won money from the porter, and then I paid the +cook the bits of silver which I had borrowed of him; and played with +him, and won a little of his money, which I let him win back again, +as I had lived long enough in a religious house to know that it is dangerous +to take money from the cook. In a little time, Shorsha, there +was scarcely anything going on in the house but card-playing; the almoner +played with me, and so did the sub-rector, and I won money from both; +not too much, however, lest they should tell the rector, who had the +character of a very austere man, and of being a bit of a saint; however, +the thief of a porter, whose money I had won, informed the rector of +what was going on, and one day the rector sent for me into his private +apartment, and gave me so long and pious a lecture upon the heinous +sin of card-playing, that I thought I should sink into the ground; after +about half-an-hour’s inveighing against card-playing, he began +to soften his tone, and with a long sigh told me that at one time of +his life he had been a young man himself, and had occasionally used +the cards; he then began to ask me some questions about card-playing, +which questions I afterwards found were to pump from me what I knew +about the science. After a time he asked me whether I had got +my cards with me, and on my telling him I had, he expressed a wish to +see them, whereupon I took the pack out of my pocket, and showed it +to him; he looked at it very attentively, and at last, giving another +deep sigh, he said, that though he was nearly weaned from the vanities +of the world, he had still an inclination to see whether he had entirely +lost the little skill which at one time he possessed. When I heard +him speak in this manner, I told him that if his reverence was inclined +for a game of cards, I should be very happy to play one with him; scarcely +had I uttered these words than he gave a third sigh, and looked so very +much like a saint that I was afraid he was going to excommunicate me. +Nothing of the kind, however, for presently he gets up and locks the +door, then sitting down at the table, he motioned me to do the same, +which I did, and in five minutes we were playing at cards, his reverence +and myself.<br> +<br> +“I soon found that his reverence knew quite as much about card-playing +as I did. Divil a trick was there connected with cards that his +reverence did not seem awake to. As, however, we were not playing +for money, this circumstance did not give me much uneasiness; so we +played game after game for two hours, when his reverence, having business, +told me I might go, so I took up my cards, make my obedience, and left +him. The next day I had other games with him, and so on for a +very long time, still playing for nothing. At last his reverence +grew tired of playing for nothing, and proposed that we should play +for money. Now, I had no desire to play with his reverence for +money, as I knew that doing so would bring on a quarrel. As long +as we were playing for nothing, I could afford to let his reverence +use what tricks he pleased; but if we played for money, I couldn’t +do so. If he played his tricks, I must play mine, and use every +advantage to save my money; and there was one I possessed which his +reverence did not. The cards being my own, I had put some delicate +little marks on the trump cards, just at the edges, so that when I dealt, +by means of a little sleight of hand, I could deal myself any trump +card I pleased. But I wished, as I said before, to have no dealings +for money with his reverence, knowing that he was master in the house, +and that he could lead me a dog of a life if I offended him, either +by winning his money, or not letting him win mine. So I told him +I had no money to play with, but the ould thief knew better; he knew +that I was every day winning money from the scholars, and the sub-rector, +and the other people of the house, and the ould thaif had determined +to let me go on in that way winning money, and then by means of his +tricks, which he thought I dare not resent, to win from me all my earnings +- in a word, Shorsha, to let me fill myself like a sponge, and then +squeeze me for his own advantage. So he made me play with him, +and in less than three days came on the quarrel; his reverence chated +me, and I chated his reverence; the ould thaif knew every trick that +I knew, and one or two more; but in daling out the cards I nicked his +reverence; scarcely a trump did I ever give him, Shorsha, and won his +money purty freely. Och, it was a purty quarrel! All the +delicate names in the ‘Newgate Calendar,’ if ye ever heard +of such a book; all the hang-dog names in the Newgate histories, and +the lives of Irish rogues, did we call each other - his reverence and +I! Suddenly, however, putting out his hand, he seized the cards, +saying, ‘I will examine these cards, ye cheating scoundrel! for +I believe there are dirty marks on them, which ye have made in order +to know the winning cards.’ ‘Give me back my pack,’ +said I, ‘or m’anam on Dioul if I be not the death of ye!’ +His reverence, however, clapped the cards into his pocket, and made +the best of his way to the door, I hanging upon him. He was a +gross, fat man, but, like most fat men, deadly strong, so he forced +his way to the door, and, opening it, flung himself out, with me still +holding on him like a terrier dog on a big fat pig; then he shouts for +help, and in a little time I was secured and thrust into a lock-up room, +where I was left to myself. Here was a purty alteration. +Yesterday I was the idol of the religious house, thought more on than +his reverence, every one paying me court and wurtship, and wanting to +play cards with me, and to learn my tricks, and fed, moreover, on the +tidbits of the table; and to-day I was in a cell, nobody coming to look +at me but the blackguard porter who had charge of me, my cards taken +from me, and with nothing but bread and water to live upon. Time +passed dreary enough for a month, at the end of which time his reverence +came to me, leaving the porter just outside the door in order to come +to his help should I be violent; and then he read me a very purty lecture +on my conduct, saying I had turned the religious house topsy-turvy, +and corrupted the scholars, and that I was the cheat of the world, for +that on inspecting the pack he had discovered the dirty marks which +I had made upon the trump cards for to know them by. He said a +great deal more to me, which is not worth relating, and ended by telling +me that he intended to let me out of confinement next day, but that +if ever I misconducted myself any more, he would clap me in again for +the rest of my life. I had a good mind to call him an ould thaif, +but the hope of getting out made me hold my tongue, and the next day +I was let out; and need enough I had to be let out, for what with being +alone, and living on bread and water, I was becoming frighted, or, as +the doctors call it, narvous. But when I was out - oh, what a +change I found in the religious house! no card-playing, for it had been +forbidden to the scholars, and there was now nothing going on but reading +and singing; divil a merry visage to be seen, but plenty of prim airs +and graces; but the case of the scholars, though bad enough, was not +half so bad as mine, for they could spake to each other, whereas I could +not have a word of conversation, for the ould thaif of a rector had +ordered them to send me to ‘Coventry,’ telling them that +I was a gambling cheat, with morals bad enough to corrupt a horse regiment; +and whereas they were allowed to divert themselves with going out, I +was kept reading and singing from morn till night. The only soul +who was willing to exchange a word with me was the cook, and sometimes +he and I had a little bit of discourse in a corner, and we condoled +with each other, for he liked the change in the religious house almost +as little as myself; but he told me that, for all the change below stairs, +there was still card-playing on above, for that the ould thaif of a +rector, and the sub-rector, and the almoner played at cards together, +and that the rector won money from the others - the almoner had told +him so - and, moreover, that the rector was the thaif of the world, +and had once been kicked out of a club-house at Dublin for cheating +at cards, and after that circumstance had apparently reformed and lived +decently till the time when I came to the religious house with my pack, +but that the sight of that had brought him back to his ould gambling. +He told the cook, moreover, that the rector frequently went out at night +to the houses of the great clergy and cheated at cards.<br> +<br> +“In this melancholy state, with respect to myself, things continued +a long time, when suddenly there was a report that his Holiness the +Pope intended to pay a visit to the religious house in order to examine +into its discipline. When I heard this I was glad, for I determined +after the Pope had done what he had come to do, to fall upon my knees +before him, and make a regular complaint of the treatment I had received, +to tell him of the cheating at cards of the rector, and to beg him to +make the ould thaif give me back my pack again. So the day of +the visit came, and his Holiness made his appearance with his attendants, +and, having looked over the religious house, he went into the rector’s +room with the rector, the sub-rector, and the almoner. I intended +to have waited until his Holiness came out, but finding he stayed a +long time I thought I would e’en go into him, so I went up to +the door without anybody observing me - his attendants being walking +about the corridor - and opening it I slipped in, and there what do +you think I saw? Why, his Holiness the Pope, and his reverence +the rector, and the sub-rector, and the almoner seated at cards; and +the ould thaif of a rector was dealing out the cards which ye had given +me, Shorsha, to his Holiness the Pope, the sub-rector, the almoner, +and himself.”<br> +<br> +In this part of his history I interrupted Murtagh, saying that I was +afraid he was telling untruths, and that it was highly improbable that +the Pope would leave the Vatican to play cards with Irish at their religious +house, and that I was sure, if on his, Murtagh’s authority, I +were to tell the world so, the world would never believe it.<br> +<br> +“Then the world, Shorsha, would be a fool, even as you were just +now saying you had frequently believed it to be; the grand thing, Shorsha, +is to be able to believe oneself; if ye can do that, it matters very +little whether the world believe ye or no. But a purty thing for +you and the world to stickle at the Pope’s playing at cards at +a religious house of Irish; och! if I were to tell you and the world, +what the Pope has been sometimes at, at the religious house of English +thaives, I would excuse you and the world for turning up your eyes. +However, I wish to say nothing against the Pope. I am a son of +the church, and if the Pope don’t interfere with my cards, divil +a bit will I have to say against him; but I saw the Pope playing, or +about to play, with the pack which had been taken from me, and when +I told the Pope, the Pope did not - Ye had better let me go on with +my history, Shorsha; whether you or the world believe it or not, I am +sure it is quite as true as your tale of the snake, or saying that Finn +got his burnt finger from the thaives of Loughlin; and whatever you +may say, I am sure the world will think so too.”<br> +<br> +I apologized to Murtagh for interrupting him, and telling him that his +history, whether true or not, was infinitely diverting, begged him to +continue it.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XLVI<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Murtagh’s Story continued - The Priest, Exorcist, and Thimble-engro +- How to Check a Rebellion.<br> +<br> +I was telling ye, Shorsha, when ye interrupted me, that I found the +Pope, the rector, the sub-rector, and the almoner seated at the table, +the rector with my pack of cards in his hands, about to deal out to +the Pope and the rest, not forgetting himself, for whom he intended +all the trump-cards, no doubt. No sooner did they perceive me +than they seemed taken all aback; but the rector, suddenly starting +up with the cards in his hand, asked me what I did there, threatening +to have me well disciplined if I did not go about my business; ‘I +am come for my pack,’ said I, ‘ye ould thaif, and to tell +his Holiness how I have been treated by ye;’ then going down on +my knees before his Holiness, I said, ‘Arrah, now, your Holiness! +will ye not see justice done to a poor boy who has been sadly misused? +The pack of cards which that old ruffian has in his hand are my cards, +which he has taken from me, in order to chate with. Arrah! don’t +play with him, your Holiness, for he’ll only chate ye - there +are dirty marks upon the cards which bear the trumps, put there in order +to know them by; and the ould thaif in daling out will give himself +all the good cards, and chate ye of the last farthing in your pocket; +so let them be taken from him, your Holiness, and given back to me; +and order him to lave the room, and then, if your Holiness be for an +honest game, don’t think I am the boy to baulk ye. I’ll +take the old ruffian’s place, and play with ye till evening, and +all night besides, and divil an advantage will I take of the dirty marks, +though I know them all, having placed them on the cards myself.’ +I was going on in this way when the ould thaif of a rector, flinging +down the cards, made at me as if to kick me out of the room, whereupon +I started up and said, ‘If ye are for kicking, sure two can play +at that;’ and then I kicked at his reverence, and his reverence +at me, and there was a regular scrimmage between us, which frightened +the Pope, who, getting up, said some words which I did not understand, +but which the cook afterwards told me were, ‘English extravagance, +and this is the second edition;’ for it seems that, a little time +before, his Holiness had been frightened in St. Peter’s Church +by the servant of an English family, which those thaives of the English +religious house had been endeavouring to bring over to the Catholic +faith, and who didn’t approve of their being converted. +Och! his Holiness did us all sore injustice to call us English, and +to confound our house with the other; for however dirty our house might +be, our house was a clane house compared with the English house, and +we honest people compared with those English thaives. Well, his +Holiness was frighted, and the almoner ran out, and brought in his Holiness’s +attendants, and they laid hold of me, but I struggled hard, and said, +‘I will not go without my pack; arrah, your Holiness! make them +give me my pack, which Shorsha gave me in Dungarvon times of old;’ +but my struggles were of no use. I was pulled away and put out +in the ould dungeon, and his Holiness went away sore frighted, crossing +himself much, and never returned again.<br> +<br> +“In the old dungeon I was fastened to the wall by a chain, and +there I was disciplined once every other day for the first three weeks, +and then I was left to myself, and my chain, and hunger; and there I +sat in the dungeon, sometimes screeching, sometimes hallooing, for I +soon became frighted, having nothing in the cell to divert me. +At last the cook found his way to me by stealth, and comforted me a +little, bringing me tidbits out of the kitchen; and he visited me again +and again - not often, however, for he dare only come when he could +steal away the key from the custody of the thaif of a porter. +I was three years in the dungeon, and should have gone mad but for the +cook, and his words of comfort, and his tidbits, and nice books which +he brought me out of the library, which were the ‘Calendars of +Newgate,’ and the ‘Lives of Irish Rogues and Raparees,’ +the only English books in the library. However, at the end of +three years, the ould thaif of a rector, wishing to look at them books, +missed them from the library, and made a perquisition about them, and +the thaif of a porter said that he shouldn’t wonder if I had them; +saying that he had once seen me reading; and then the rector came with +others to my cell, and took my books from me, from under my straw, and +asked me how I came by them; and on my refusal to tell, they disciplined +me again till the blood ran down my back; and making more perquisition +they at last accused the cook of having carried the books to me, and +not denying, he was given warning to leave next day, but he left that +night, and took me away with him; for he stole the key, and came to +me and cut my chain through, and then he and I escaped from the religious +house through a window - the cook with a bundle, containing what things +he had. No sooner had we got out than the honest cook gave me +a little bit of money and a loaf, and told me to follow a way which +he pointed out, which he said would lead to the sea; and then, having +embraced me after the Italian way, he left me, and I never saw him again. +So I followed the way which the cook pointed out, and in two days reached +a seaport called Chiviter Vik, terribly foot-foundered, and there I +met a sailor who spoke Irish, and who belonged to a vessel just ready +to sail for France; and the sailor took me on board his vessel, and +said I was his brother, and the captain gave me a passage to a place +in France called Marseilles; and when I got there, the captain and sailor +got a little money for me and a passport, and I travelled across the +country towards a place they directed me to called Bayonne, from which +they said I might, perhaps, get to Ireland. Coming, however, to +a place called Pau, all my money being gone, I enlisted into a regiment +called the Army of the Faith, which was going into Spain, for the King +of Spain had been dethroned and imprisoned by his own subjects, as perhaps +you may have heard; and the King of France, who was his cousin, was +sending an army to help him, under the command of his own son, whom +the English called Prince Hilt, because when he was told that he was +appointed to the command, he clapped his hand on the hilt of his sword. +So I enlisted into the regiment of the Faith, which was made up of Spaniards, +many of them priests who had run out of Spain, and broken Germans, and +foot-foundered Irish, like myself. It was said to be a blackguard +regiment, that same regiment of the Faith; but, ‘faith, I saw +nothing blackguardly going on in it, for you would hardly reckon card-playing +and dominoes, and pitch and toss blackguardly, and I saw nothing else +in it. There was one thing in it which I disliked - the priests +drawing their Spanish knives occasionally, when they lost their money. +After we had been some time at Pau, the army of the Faith was sent across +the mountains into Spain, as the vanguard of the French; and no sooner +did the Spaniards see the Faith than they made a dash at it, and the +Faith ran away, myself along with it, and got behind the French army, +which told it to keep there, and the Faith did so, and followed the +French army, which soon scattered the Spaniards, and in the end placed +the king on his throne again. When the war was over the Faith +was disbanded; some of the foreigners, however, amongst whom I was one, +were put into a Guard regiment, and there I continued for more than +a year.<br> +<br> +“One day, being at a place called the Escurial, I took stock, +as the tradesmen say, and found I possessed the sum of eighty dollars +won by playing at cards, for though I could not play so well with the +foreign cards as with the pack you gave me, Shorsha, I had yet contrived +to win money from the priests and soldiers of the Faith. Finding +myself possessed of such a capital, I determined to leave the service, +and to make the best of my way to Ireland; so I deserted, but coming +in an evil hour to a place they calls Torre Lodones, I found the priest +playing at cards with his parishioners. The sight of the cards +made me stop, and then, fool like, notwithstanding the treasure I had +about me, I must wish to play, so not being able to speak their language, +I made signs to them to let me play, and the priest and his thaives +consented willingly; so I sat down to cards with the priest and two +of his parishioners, and in a little time had won plenty of their money, +but I had better never have done any such thing, for suddenly the priest +and all his parishioners set upon me and bate me, and took from me all +I had, and cast me out of the village more dead than alive. Och! +it’s a bad village that, and if I had known what it was I would +have avoided it, or run straight through it, though I saw all the card-playing +in the world going on in it. There is a proverb about it, as I +was afterwards told, old as the time of the Moors, which holds good +to the present day - it is, that in Torre Lodones there are twenty-four +housekeepers, and twenty-five thieves, maning that all the people are +thaives, and the clergyman to boot, who is not reckoned a housekeeper; +and troth I found the clergyman the greatest thaif of the lot. +After being cast out of that village I travelled for nearly a month, +subsisting by begging tolerably well, for though most of the Spanish +are thaives, they are rather charitable; but though charitable thaives +they do not like their own being taken from them without leave being +asked, as I found to my cost; for on my entering a garden near Seville, +without leave, to take an orange, the labourer came running up and struck +me to the ground with a hatchet, giving me a big wound in the arm. +I fainted with loss of blood, and on reviving I found myself in a hospital +at Seville, to which the labourer and the people of the village had +taken me. I should have died of starvation in that hospital had +not some English people heard of me and come to see me; they tended +me with food till I was cured, and then paid my passage on board a ship +to London, to which place the ship carried me.<br> +<br> +“And now I was in London with five shillings in my pocket - all +I had in the world - and that did not last for long; and when it was +gone I begged in the streets, but I did not get much by that, except +a month’s hard labour in the correction-house; and when I came +out I knew not what to do, but thought I would take a walk in the country, +for it was spring-time, and the weather was fine, so I took a walk about +seven miles from London, and came to a place where a great fair was +being held; and there I begged, but got nothing but a halfpenny, and +was thinking of going farther, when I saw a man with a table, like that +of mine, playing with thimbles, as you saw me. I looked at the +play, and saw him win money, and run away, and hunted by constables +more than once. I kept following the man, and at last entered +into conversation with him; and learning from him that he was in want +of a companion to help him, I offered to help him if he would pay me; +he looked at me from top to toe, and did not wish at first to have anything +to do with me, as he said my appearance was against me. ‘Faith, +Shorsha, he had better have looked at home, for his appearance was not +much in his favour: he looked very much like a Jew, Shorsha. However, +he at last agreed to take me to be his companion, or bonnet as he called +it; and I was to keep a look-out, and let him know when constables were +coming, and to spake a good word for him occasionally, whilst he was +chating folks with his thimbles and his pea. So I became his bonnet, +and assisted him in the fair, and in many other fairs beside; but I +did not like my occupation much, or rather my master, who, though not +a big man, was a big thaif, and an unkind one, for do all I could I +could never give him pleasure; and he was continually calling me fool +and bogtrotter, and twitting me because I could not learn his thaives’ +Latin, and discourse with him in it, and comparing me with another acquaintance, +or bit of a pal of his, whom he said he had parted with in the fair, +and of whom he was fond of saying all kinds of wonderful things, amongst +others, that he knew the grammar of all tongues. At last, wearied +with being twitted by him with not being able to learn his thaives’ +Greek, I proposed that I should teach him Irish, that we should spake +it together when we had anything to say in secret. To that he +consented willingly; but, och! a purty hand he made with Irish, ‘faith, +not much better than I did with his thaives’ Hebrew. Then +my turn came, and I twitted him nicely with dulness, and compared him +with a pal that I had in ould Ireland, in Dungarvon times of yore, to +whom I teached Irish, telling him that he was the broth of a boy, and +not only knew the grammar of all human tongues, but the dialects of +the snakes besides; in fact, I tould him all about your own sweet self, +Shorsha, and many a dispute and quarrel had we together about our pals, +which was the cleverest fellow, his or mine.<br> +<br> +“Well, after having been wid him about two months, I quitted him +without noise, taking away one of his tables, and some peas and thimbles; +and that I did with a safe conscience, for he paid me nothing, and was +not over free with the meat and the drink, though I must say of him +that he was a clever fellow, and perfect master of his trade, by which +he made a power of money, and bating his not being able to learn Irish, +and a certain Jewish lisp which he had, a great master of his tongue, +of which he was very proud; so much so, that he once told me that when +he had saved a certain sum of money he meant to leave off the thimbling +business, and enter Parliament; into which, he said, he could get at +any time, through the interest of a friend of his, a Tory Peer - my +Lord Whitefeather, with whom, he said, he had occasionally done business. +With the table, and other things which I had taken, I commenced trade +on my own account, having contrived to learn a few of his tricks. +My only capital was the change for half-a-guinea, which he had once +let fall, and which I picked up, which was all I could ever get from +him: for it was impossible to stale any money from him, he was so awake, +being up to all the tricks of thaives, having followed the diving trade, +as he called it, for a considerable time. My wish was to make +enough by my table to enable me to return with credit to ould Ireland, +where I had no doubt of being able to get myself ordained as priest; +and, in troth, notwithstanding I was a beginner, and without any companion +to help me, I did tolerably well, getting my meat and drink, and increasing +my small capital, till I came to this unlucky place of Horncastle, where +I was utterly ruined by the thaif in the rider’s dress. +And now, Shorsha, I am after telling you my history; perhaps you will +now be telling me something about yourself?”<br> +<br> +I told Murtagh all about myself that I deemed necessary to relate, and +then asked him what he intended to do; he repeated that he was utterly +ruined, and that he had no prospect before him but starving, or making +away with himself. I inquired “How much would take him to +Ireland, and establish him there with credit.” “Five +pounds,” he answered, adding, “but who in the world would +be fool enough to tend me five pounds, unless it be yourself, Shorsha, +who, may be, have not got it; for when you told me about yourself, you +made no boast of the state of your affairs.” “I am +not very rich,” I replied, “but I think I can accommodate +you with what you want. I consider myself under great obligations +to you, Murtagh; it was you who instructed me in the language of Oilein +nan Naomha, which has been the foundation of all my acquisitions in +philology; without you, I should not have been what I am - Lavengro! +which signifies a philologist. Here is the money, Murtagh,” +said I, putting my hand into my pocket, and taking out five pounds, +“much good may it do you.” He took the money, stared +at it, and then at me - “And you mane to give me this, Shorsha?” +“It is no longer mine to give,” said I; “it is yours.” +“And you give it me for the gratitude you bear me?” +“Yes, “ said I, “and for Dungarvon times of old.” +“Well, Shorsha,” said he, “you are a broth of a boy, +and I’ll take your benefaction - five pounds! och, Jasus!” +He then put the money in his pocket, and springing up, waved his hat +three times, uttering some old Irish cry; then, sitting down, he took +my hand, and said, “Sure, Shorsha, I’ll be going thither; +and when I get there, it is turning over another leaf I will be; I have +learnt a thing or two abroad; I will become a priest; that’s the +trade, Shorsha! and I will cry out for repale; that’s the cry, +Shorsha! and I’ll be a fool no longer.” “And +what will you do with your table?” said I. “‘Faith, +I’ll be taking it with me, Shorsha; and when I gets to Ireland, +I’ll get it mended, and I will keep it in the house which I shall +have; and when I looks upon it, I will be thinking of all I have undergone.” +“You had better leave it behind you,” said I; “if +you take it with you, you will, perhaps, take up the thimble trade again +before you get to Ireland, and lose the money I am after giving you.” +“No fear of that, Shorsha; never will I play on that table again, +Shorsha, till I get it mended, which shall not be till I am a priest, +and have a house in which to place it.”<br> +<br> +Murtagh and I then went into the town, where we had some refreshment +together, and then parted on our several ways. I heard nothing +of him for nearly a quarter of a century, when a person who knew him +well, coming from Ireland, and staying at my humble house, told me a +great deal about him. He reached Ireland in safety, soon reconciled +himself with his Church, and was ordained a priest; in the priestly +office he acquitted himself in a way very satisfactory, upon the whole, +to his superiors, having, as he frequently said, learned wisdom abroad. +The Popish Church never fails to turn to account any particular gift +which its servants may possess; and discovering soon that Murtagh was +endowed with considerable manual dexterity - proof of which he frequently +gave at cards, and at a singular game which he occasionally played at +thimbles - it selected him as a very fit person to play the part of +exorcist; and accordingly he travelled through a great part of Ireland, +casting out devils from people possessed, which he afterwards exhibited, +sometimes in the shape of rabbits, and occasionally birds and fishes. +There is a holy island in a lake in Ireland, to which the people resort +at a particular season of the year. Here Murtagh frequently attended, +and it was here that he performed a cure which will cause his name long +to be remembered in Ireland, delivering a possessed woman of two demons, +which he brandished aloft in his hands, in the shape of two large eels, +and subsequently hurled into the lake, amidst the shouts of an enthusiastic +multitude. Besides playing the part of an exorcist, he acted that +of a politician with considerable success; he attached himself to the +party of the sire of agitation - “the man of paunch,” and +preached and hallooed for repeal with the loudest and best, as long +as repeal was the cry; as soon, however, as the Whigs attained the helm +of Government, and the greater part of the loaves and fishes - more +politely termed the patronage of Ireland - was placed at the disposition +of the priesthood, the tone of Murtagh, like that of the rest of his +brother saggarts, was considerably softened; he even went so far as +to declare that politics were not altogether consistent with sacerdotal +duty; and resuming his exorcisms, which he had for some time abandoned, +he went to the Isle of Holiness, and delivered a possessed woman of +six demons in the shape of white mice. He, however, again resumed +the political mantle in the year 1848, during the short period of the +rebellion of the so-called Young Irelanders. The priests, though +they apparently sided with this party, did not approve of it, as it +was chiefly formed of ardent young men, fond of what they termed liberty, +and by no means admirers of priestly domination, being mostly Protestants. +Just before the outbreak of this rebellion, it was determined between +the priests and the -, that this party should be rendered comparatively +innocuous by being deprived of the sinews’ of war - in other words, +certain sums of money which they had raised for their enterprise. +Murtagh was deemed the best qualified person in Ireland to be entrusted +with the delicate office of getting their money from them. Having +received his instructions, he invited the leaders to his parsonage amongst +the mountains, under pretence of deliberating with them about what was +to be done. They arrived there just before nightfall, dressed +in red, yellow, and green, the colours so dear to enthusiastic Irishmen; +Murtagh received them with great apparent cordiality, and entered into +a long discourse with them, promising them the assistance of himself +and order, and received from them a profusion of thanks. After +a time Murtagh, observing, in a jocular tone, that consulting was dull +work, proposed a game of cards, and the leaders, though somewhat surprised, +assenting, he went to a closet, and taking out a pack of cards, laid +it upon the table; it was a strange dirty pack, and exhibited every +mark of having seen very long service. On one of its guests making +some remarks on the “ancientness” of its appearance, Murtagh +observed that there was a very wonderful history attached to that pack; +it had been presented to him, he said, by a young gentleman, a disciple +of his, to whom, in Dungarvon times of yore, he had taught the Irish +language, and of whom he related some very extraordinary things; he +added that he, Murtagh, had taken it to -, where it had once the happiness +of being in the hands of the Holy Father; by a great misfortune, he +did not say what, he had lost possession of it, and had returned without +it, but had some time since recovered it; a nephew of his, who was being +educated at - for a priest, having found it in a nook of the college, +and sent it to him.<br> +<br> +Murtagh and the leaders then played various games with this pack, more +especially one called by the initiated “blind hockey,” the +result being that at the end of about two hours the leaders found they +had lost one-half of their funds; they now looked serious, and talked +of leaving the house, but Murtagh begging them to stay to supper, they +consented. After supper, at which the guests drank rather freely, +Murtagh said that, as he had not the least wish to win their money, +he intended to give them their revenge; he would not play at cards with +them, he added, but at a funny game of thimbles, at which they would +be sure of winning back their own; then going out, he brought in a table, +tall and narrow, on which placing certain thimbles and a pea, he proposed +that they should stake whatever they pleased on the almost certainty +of finding the pea under the thimbles. The leaders, after some +hesitation, consented, and were at first eminently successful, winning +back the greater part of what they had lost; after some time, however, +Fortune, or rather Murtagh, turned against them, and then, instead of +leaving off, they doubled and trebled their stakes, and continued doing +so until they had lost nearly the whole of their funds. Quite +furious, they now swore that Murtagh had cheated them, and insisted +on having their property restored to them. Murtagh, without a +word of reply, went to the door, and shouting into the passage something +in Irish, the room was instantly filled with bogtrotters, each at least +six feet high, with a stout shillelah in his hand. Murtagh then +turning to his guests, asked them what they meant by insulting an anointed +priest; telling them that it was not for the likes of them to avenge +the wrongs of Ireland. “I have been clane mistaken in the +whole of ye,” said he, “I supposed ye Irish, but have found, +to my sorrow, that ye are nothing of the kind; purty fellows to pretend +to be Irish, when there is not a word of Irish on the tongue of any +of ye, divil a ha’porth; the illigant young gentleman to whom +I taught Irish, in Dungarvon times of old, though not born in Ireland, +has more Irish in him than any ten of ye. He is the boy to avenge +the wrongs of Ireland, if ever foreigner is to do it.” Then +saying something to the bogtrotters, they instantly cleared the room +of the young Irelanders, who retired sadly disconcerted; nevertheless, +being very silly young fellows, they hoisted the standard of rebellion; +few, however, joining them, partly because they had no money, and partly +because the priests abused them with might and main, their rebellion +ended in a lamentable manner; themselves being seized and tried, and +though convicted, not deemed of sufficient importance to be sent to +the scaffold, where they might have had the satisfaction of saying -<br> +<br> +<br> +“Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori.”<br> +<br> +<br> +My visitor, after saying that of the money won, Murtagh retained a considerable +portion, that a part went to the hierarchy for what were called church +purposes, and that the - took the remainder, which it employed in establishing +a newspaper, in which the private characters of the worthiest and most +loyal Protestants in Ireland were traduced and vilified, concluded his +account by observing, that it was the common belief that Murtagh, having +by his services, ecclesiastical and political, acquired the confidence +of the priesthood and favour of the Government, would, on the first +vacancy, be appointed to the high office of Popish Primate of Ireland.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XLVII<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Departure from Horncastle - Recruiting Sergeant - Kauloes and Lolloes.<br> +<br> +<br> +Leaving Horncastle I bent my steps in the direction of the east. +I walked at a brisk rate, and late in the evening reached a large town, +situate at the entrance of an extensive firth, or arm of the sea, which +prevented my farther progress eastward. Sleeping that night in +the suburbs of the town, I departed early next morning in the direction +of the south. A walk of about twenty miles brought me to another +large town, situated on a river, where I again turned towards the east. +At the end of the town I was accosted by a fiery-faced individual, somewhat +under the middle size, dressed as a recruiting sergeant.<br> +<br> +“Young man,” said the recruiting sergeant, “you are +just the kind of person to serve the Honourable East India Company.”<br> +<br> +“I had rather the Honourable Company should serve me,” said +I.<br> +<br> +“Of course, young man. Well, the Honourable East India Company +shall serve you - that’s reasonable. Here, take this shilling; +‘tis service-money. The Honourable Company engages to serve +you, and you the Honourable Company; both parties shall be thus served; +that’s just and reasonable.”<br> +<br> +“And what must I do for the Company?”<br> +<br> +“Only go to India; that’s all.”<br> +<br> +“And what should I do in India?”<br> +<br> +“Fight, my brave boy! fight, my youthful hero!”<br> +<br> +“What kind of country is India?”<br> +<br> +“The finest country in the world! Rivers, bigger than the +Ouse. Hills, higher than anything near Spalding! Trees - +you never saw such trees! Fruits - you never saw such fruits!”<br> +<br> +“And the people - what kind of folk are they?”<br> +<br> +“Pah! Kauloes - blacks - a set of rascals not worth regarding.”<br> +<br> +“Kauloes!” said I; “blacks!”<br> +<br> +“Yes,” said the recruiting sergeant; “and they call +us lolloes, which, in their beastly gibberish, means red.”<br> +<br> +“Lolloes!” said I; “reds!”<br> +<br> +“Yes,” said the recruiting sergeant, “kauloes and +lolloes; and all the lolloes have to do is to kick and cut down the +kauloes, and take from them their rupees, which mean silver money. +Why do you stare so?”<br> +<br> +“Why,” said I, “this is the very language of Mr. Petulengro.”<br> +<br> +“Mr. Pet-?”<br> +<br> +“Yes,” said I, “and Tawno Chikno.”<br> +<br> +“Tawno Chik-? I say, young fellow, I don’t like your +way of speaking; no, nor your way of looking. You are mad, sir; +you are mad; and what’s this? Why, your hair is grey! +You won’t do for the Honourable Company - they like red. +I’m glad I didn’t give you the shilling. Good day +to you.”<br> +<br> +“I shouldn’t wonder,” said I, as I proceeded rapidly +along a broad causeway, in the direction of the east, “if Mr. +Petulengro and Tawno Chikno came originally from India. I think +I’ll go there.”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +APPENDIX<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER I<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +A Word for Lavengro.<br> +<br> +<br> +Lavengro is the history up to a certain period of one of rather a peculiar +mind and system of nerves, with an exterior shy and cold, under which +lurk much curiosity, especially with regard to what is wild and extraordinary, +a considerable quantity of energy and industry, and an unconquerable +love of independence. It narrates his earliest dreams and feelings, +dwells with minuteness on the ways, words, and characters of his father, +mother, and brother, lingers on the occasional resting-places of his +wandering half military childhood, describes the gradual hardening of +his bodily frame by robust exercises, his successive struggles, after +his family and himself have settled down in a small local capital, to +obtain knowledge of every kind, but more particularly philological lore; +his visits to the tent of the Romany chal, and the parlour of the Anglo-German +philosopher; the effect produced upon his character by his flinging +himself into contact with people all widely differing from each other, +but all extraordinary; his reluctance to settle down to the ordinary +pursuits of life; his struggles after moral truth; his glimpses of God +and the obscuration of the Divine Being, to his mind’s eye; and +his being cast upon the world of London by the death of his father, +at the age of nineteen. In the world within a world, the world +of London, it shows him playing his part for some time as he best can, +in the capacity of a writer for reviews and magazines, and describes +what he saw and underwent whilst labouring in that capacity; it represents +him, however, as never forgetting that he is the son of a brave but +poor gentleman, and that if he is a hack author, he is likewise a scholar. +It shows him doing no dishonourable jobs, and proves that if he occasionally +associates with low characters, he does so chiefly to gratify the curiosity +of a scholar. In his conversations with the apple-woman of London +Bridge, the scholar is ever apparent, so again in his acquaintance with +the man of the table, for the book is no raker up of the uncleanness +of London, and if it gives what at first sight appears refuse, it invariably +shows that a pearl of some kind, generally a philological one, is contained +amongst it; it shows its hero always accompanied by his love of independence, +scorning in the greatest poverty to receive favours from anybody, and +describes him finally rescuing himself from peculiarly miserable circumstances +by writing a book, an original book, within a week, even as Johnson +is said to have written his “Rasselas,” and Beckford his +“Vathek,” and tells how, leaving London, he betakes himself +to the roads and fields.<br> +<br> +In the country it shows him leading a life of roving adventure, becoming +tinker, gypsy, postillion, ostler; associating with various kinds of +people, chiefly of the lower classes, whose ways and habits are described; +but, though leading this erratic life, we gather from the book that +his habits are neither vulgar nor vicious, that he still follows to +a certain extent his favourite pursuits, hunting after strange characters, +or analysing strange words and names. At the conclusion of the +last chapter, which terminates the first part of the history, it hints +that he is about to quit his native land on a grand philological expedition.<br> +<br> +Those who read this book with attention - and the author begs to observe +that it would be of little utility to read it hurriedly - may derive +much information with respect to matters of philology and literature; +it will be found treating of most of the principal languages from Ireland +to China, and of the literature which they contain; and it is particularly +minute with regard to the ways, manners, and speech of the English section +of the most extraordinary and mysterious clan or tribe of people to +be found in the whole world - the children of Roma. But it contains +matters of much more importance than anything in connection with philology, +and the literature and manners of nations. Perhaps no work was +ever offered to the public in which the kindness and providence of God +have been set forth by more striking examples, or the machinations of +priestcraft been more truly and lucidly exposed, or the dangers which +result to a nation when it abandons itself to effeminacy, and a rage +for what is novel and fashionable, than the present.<br> +<br> +With respect to the kindness and providence of God, are they not exemplified +in the case of the old apple-woman and her son? These are beings +in many points bad, but with warm affections, who, after an agonizing +separation, are restored to each other, but not until the hearts of +both are changed and purified by the influence of affliction. +Are they not exemplified in the case of the rich gentleman, who touches +objects in order to avert the evil chance? This being has great +gifts and many amiable qualifies, but does not everybody see that his +besetting sin is selfishness? He fixes his mind on certain objects, +and takes inordinate interest in them, because they are his own, and +those very objects, through the providence of God, which is kindness +in disguise, become snakes and scorpions to whip him. Tired of +various pursuits, he at last becomes an author, and publishes a book, +which is very much admired, and which he loves with his usual inordinate +affection; the book, consequently, becomes a viper to him, and at last +he flings it aside and begins another; the book, however, is not flung +aside by the world, who are benefited by it, deriving pleasure and knowledge +from it: so the man who merely wrote to gratify self, has already done +good to others, and got himself an honourable name. But God will +not allow that man to put that book under his head and use it as a pillow: +the book has become a viper to him, he has banished it, and is about +another, which he finishes and gives to the world; it is a better book +than the first, and every one is delighted with it; but it proves to +the writer a scorpion, because he loves it with inordinate affection; +but it was good for the world that he produced this book, which stung +him as a scorpion. Yes; and good for himself, for the labour of +writing it amused him, and perhaps prevented him from dying of apoplexy; +but the book is banished, and another is begun, and herein, again, is +the providence of God manifested; the man has the power of producing +still, and God determines that he shall give to the world what remains +in his brain, which he would not do, had he been satisfied with the +second work; he would have gone to sleep upon that as he would upon +the first, for the man is selfish and lazy. In his account of +what he suffered during the composition of this work, his besetting +sin of selfishness is manifest enough; the work on which he is engaged +occupies his every thought, it is his idol, his deity, it shall be all +his own, he won’t borrow a thought from any one else, and he is +so afraid lest, when he publishes it, that it should be thought that +he had borrowed from any one, that he is continually touching objects, +his nervous system, owing to his extreme selfishness, having become +partly deranged. He is left touching, in order to banish the evil +chance from his book, his deity. No more of his history is given; +but does the reader think that God will permit that man to go to sleep +on his third book, however extraordinary it may be? Assuredly +not. God will not permit that man to rest till he has cured him +to a certain extent of his selfishness, which has, however, hitherto +been very useful to the world.<br> +<br> +Then, again, in the tale of Peter Williams, is not the hand of Providence +to be seen? This person commits a sin in his childhood, utters +words of blasphemy, the remembrance of which, in after life, preying +upon his imagination, unfits him for quiet pursuits, to which he seems +to have been naturally inclined; but for the remembrance of that sin, +he would have been Peter Williams the quiet and respectable Welsh farmer, +somewhat fond of reading the ancient literature of his country in winter +evenings, after his work was done. God, however, was aware that +there was something in Peter Williams to entitle him to assume a higher +calling; he therefore permits this sin, which, though a childish affair, +was yet a sin, and committed deliberately, to prey upon his mind till +he becomes at last an instrument in the hand of God, a humble Paul, +the great preacher, Peter Williams, who, though he considers himself +a reprobate and a castaway, instead of having recourse to drinking in +mad desperation, as many do who consider themselves reprobates, goes +about Wales and England preaching the word of God, dilating on his power +and majesty, and visiting the sick and afflicted, until God sees fit +to restore to him his peace of mind; which he does not do, however, +until that mind is in a proper condition to receive peace, till it has +been purified by the pain of the one idea which has so long been permitted +to riot in his brain; which pain, however, an angel, in the shape of +a gentle faithful wife, had occasionally alleviated; for God is merciful +even in the blows which He bestoweth, and will not permit any one to +be tempted beyond the measure which he can support. And here it +will be as well for the reader to ponder upon the means by which the +Welsh preacher is relieved from his mental misery: he is not relieved +by a text from the Bible, by the words of consolation and wisdom addressed +to him by his angel-minded wife, nor by the preaching of one yet more +eloquent than himself; but by a quotation made by Lavengro from the +life of Mary Flanders, cut-purse and prostitute, which life Lavengro +had been in the habit of reading at the stall of his old friend the +apple-woman, on London Bridge, who had herself been very much addicted +to the perusal of it, though without any profit whatever. Should +the reader be dissatisfied with the manner in which Peter Williams is +made to find relief, the author would wish to answer, that the Almighty +frequently accomplishes his purposes by means which appear very singular +to the eyes of men, and at the same time to observe that the manner +in which that relief is obtained, is calculated to read a lesson to +the proud, fanciful, and squeamish, who are ever in a fidget lest they +should be thought to mix with low society, or to bestow a moment’s +attention on publications which are not what is called of a perfectly +unobjectionable character. Had not Lavengro formed the acquaintance +of the apple-woman on London Bridge, he would not have had an opportunity +of reading the life of Mary Flanders; and, consequently, of storing +in a memory, which never forgets anything, a passage which contained +a balm for the agonized mind of poor Peter Williams. The best +medicines are not always found in the finest shops. Suppose, for +example, if, instead of going to London Bridge to read, he had gone +to Albemarle Street, and had received from the proprietors of the literary +establishment in that very fashionable street, permission to read the +publications on the tables of the saloons there, does the reader think +he would have met any balm in those publications for the case of Peter +Williams? does the reader suppose that he would have found Mary Flanders +there? He would certainly have found that highly unobjectionable +publication, “Rasselas,” and the “Spectator,” +or “Lives of Royal and Illustrious Personages,” but, of +a surety, no Mary Flanders; so when Lavengro met with Peter Williams, +he would have been unprovided with a balm to cure his ulcerated mind, +and have parted from him in a way not quite so satisfactory as the manner +in which he took his leave of him; for it is certain that he might have +read “Rasselas,” and all other unexceptionable works to +be found in the library of Albemarle Street, over and over again, before +he would have found any cure in them for the case of Peter Williams. +Therefore the author requests the reader to drop any squeamish nonsense +he may wish to utter about Mary Flanders, and the manner in which Peter +Williams was cured.<br> +<br> +And now with respect to the old man who knew Chinese, but could not +tell what was o’clock. This individual was a man whose natural +powers would have been utterly buried and lost beneath a mountain of +sloth and laziness, had not God determined otherwise. He had in +his early years chalked out for himself a plan of life in which he had +his own ease and self-indulgence solely in view; he had no particular +bad passions to gratify, he only wished to live a happy quiet life, +just as if the business of this mighty world could be carried on by +innocent people fond of ease or quiet, or that Providence would permit +innocent quiet drones to occupy any portion of the earth and to cumber +it. God had at any rate decreed that this man should not cumber +it as a drone. He brings a certain affliction upon him, the agony +of which produces that terrible whirling of the brain which, unless +it is stopped in time, produces madness; he suffers indescribable misery +for a period, until one morning his attention is arrested, and his curiosity +is aroused, by certain Chinese letters on a teapot; his curiosity increases +more and more, and, of course, in proportion as his curiosity is increased +with respect to the Chinese marks, the misery in his brain, produced +by his mental affliction, decreases. He sets about learning Chinese, +and after the lapse of many years, during which his mind subsides into +a certain state of tranquillity, he acquires sufficient knowledge of +Chinese to be able to translate with ease the inscriptions to be found +on its singular crockery. Yes, the laziest of human beings, through +the Providence of God, a being too of rather inferior capacity, acquires +the written part of a language so difficult that, as Lavengro said on +a former occasion, none but the cleverest people in Europe, the French, +are able to acquire it. But God did not intend that man should +merely acquire Chinese. He intended that he should be of use to +his species, and by the instrumentality of the first Chinese inscription +which he translates, the one which first arrested his curiosity, he +is taught the duty of hospitality; yes, by means of an inscription in +the language of a people, who have scarcely an idea of hospitality themselves, +God causes the slothful man to play a useful and beneficent part in +the world, relieving distressed wanderers, and, amongst others, Lavengro +himself. But a striking indication of the man’s surprising +sloth is still apparent in what he omits to do; he has learnt Chinese, +the most difficult of languages, and he practises acts of hospitality, +because he believes himself enjoined to do so by the Chinese inscription, +but he cannot tell the hour of the day by the clock within his house; +he can get on, he thinks, very well without being able to do so; therefore +from this one omission, it is easy to come to a conclusion as to what +a sluggard’s part the man would have played in life, but for the +dispensation of Providence; nothing but extreme agony could have induced +such a man to do anything useful. He still continues, with all +he has acquired, with all his usefulness, and with all his innocence +of character, without any proper sense of religion, though he has attained +a rather advanced age. If it be observed, that this want of religion +is a great defect in the story, the author begs leave to observe that +he cannot help it. Lavengro relates the lives of people so far +as they were placed before him, but no further. It was certainly +a great defect in so good a man to be without religion; it was likewise +a great defect in so learned a man not to be able to tell what was o’clock. +It is probable that God, in his loving kindness, will not permit that +man to go out of the world without religion; who knows but some powerful +minister of the church full of zeal for the glory of God, will illume +that man’s dark mind; perhaps some clergyman will come to the +parish who will visit him and teach him his duty to his God. Yes, +it is very probable that such a man, before he dies, will have been +made to love his God; whether he will ever learn to know what’s +o’clock is another matter. It is probable that he will go +out of the world without knowing what’s o’clock. It +is not so necessary to be able to tell the time of day by the clock +as to know one’s God through His inspired word; a man cannot get +to heaven without religion, but a man can get there very comfortably +without knowing what’s o’clock.<br> +<br> +But, above all, the care and providence of God are manifested in the +case of Lavengro himself, by the manner in which he is enabled to make +his way in the world up to a certain period, without falling a prey +either to vice or poverty. In his history, there is a wonderful +illustration of part of the text, quoted by his mother, “I have +been young, but now am old, yet never saw I the righteous forsaken, +or his seed begging his bread.” He is the son of good and +honourable parents, but at the critical period of life, that of entering +into the world, he finds himself without any earthly friend to help +him, yet he manages to make his way; he does not become a Captain in +the Life Guards, it is true, nor does he get into Parliament, nor does +the last volume conclude in the most satisfactory and unobjectionable +manner, by his marrying a dowager countess, as that wise man Addison +did, or by his settling down as a great country gentleman, perfectly +happy and contented, like the very moral Roderick Random, or the equally +estimable Peregrine Pickle; he is hack author, gypsy, tinker, and postillion, +yet, upon the whole, he seems to be quite as happy as the younger sons +of most earls, to have as high feelings of honour; and when the reader +loses sight of him, he has money in his pocket honestly acquired, to +enable him to commence a journey quite as laudable as those which the +younger sons of earls generally undertake. Surely all this is +a manifestation of the kindness and providence of God: and yet he is +not a religious person; up to the time when the reader loses sight of +him, he is decidedly not a religious person; he has glimpses, it is +true, of that God who does not forsake him, but he prays very seldom, +is not fond of going to church; and, though he admires Tate and Brady’s +version of the Psalms, his admiration is rather caused by the beautiful +poetry which that version contains than the religion; yet his tale is +not finished - like the tale of the gentleman who touched objects, and +that of the old man who knew Chinese without knowing what was o’clock; +perhaps, like them, he is destined to become religious, and to have, +instead of occasional glimpses, frequent and distinct views of his God; +yet, though he may become religious, it is hardly to be expected that +he will become a very precise and straightlaced person; it is probable +that he will retain, with his scholarship, something of his gypsyism, +his predilection for the hammer and tongs, and perhaps some inclination +to put on certain gloves, not white kid, with any friend who may be +inclined for a little old English diversion, and a readiness to take +a glass of ale, with plenty of malt in it, and as little hop as may +well be - ale at least two years old - with the aforesaid friend, when +the diversion is over; for, as it is the belief of the writer that a +person may get to heaven very comfortably without knowing what’s +o’clock, so it is his belief that he will not be refused admission +there, because to the last he has been fond of healthy and invigorating +exercises, and felt a willingness to partake of any of the good things +which it pleases the Almighty to put within the reach of his children +during their sojourn upon earth.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER II<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +On Priestcraft.<br> +<br> +<br> +The writer will now say a few words about priestcraft, and the machinations +of Rome, and will afterwards say something about himself, and his motives +for writing against them.<br> +<br> +With respect to Rome, and her machinations, much valuable information +can be obtained from particular parts of Lavengro, and its sequel. +Shortly before the time when the hero of the book is launched into the +world, the Popish agitation in England had commenced. The Popish +propaganda had determined to make a grand attempt on England; Popish +priests were scattered over the land, doing the best they could to make +converts to the old superstition. With the plans of Rome, and +her hopes, and the reasons on which those hopes are grounded, the hero +of the book becomes acquainted, during an expedition which he makes +into the country, from certain conversations which he holds with a priest +in a dingle, in which the hero had taken up his residence; he likewise +learns from the same person much of the secret history of the Roman +See, and many matters connected with the origin and progress of the +Popish superstition. The individual with whom he holds these conversations +is a learned, intelligent, but highly-unprincipled person, of a character +however very common amongst the priests of Rome, who in general are +people void of all religion, and who, notwithstanding they are tied +to Rome by a band which they have neither the power nor wish to break, +turn her and her practices, over their cups with their confidential +associates, to a ridicule only exceeded by that to which they turn those +who become the dupes of their mistress and themselves.<br> +<br> +It is now necessary that the writer should say something with respect +to himself, and his motives for waging war against Rome. First +of all, with respect to himself, he wishes to state, that to the very +last moment of his life, he will do and say all that in his power may +be to hold up to contempt and execration the priestcraft and practices +of Rome; there is, perhaps, no person better acquainted than himself, +not even among the choicest spirits of the priesthood, with the origin +and history of Popery. From what he saw and heard of Popery in +England, at a very early period of his life, his curiosity was aroused, +and he spared himself no trouble, either by travel or study, to make +himself well acquainted with it in all its phases, the result being +a hatred of it, which he hopes and trusts he shall retain till the moment +when his spirit quits the body. Popery is the great lie of the +world; a source from which more misery and social degradation have flowed +upon the human race, than from all the other sources from which those +evils come. It is the oldest of all superstitions; and though +in Europe it assumes the name of Christianity, it existed and flourished +amidst the Himalayan hills at least two thousand years before the real +Christ was born in Bethlehem of Judea; in a word, it is Buddhism; and +let those who may be disposed to doubt this assertion, compare the Popery +of Rome, and the superstitious practices of its followers, with the +doings of the priests who surround the grand Lama; and the mouthings, +bellowing, turnings round, and, above all, the penances of the followers +of Buddh with those of Roman devotees. But he is not going to +dwell here on this point; it is dwelt upon at tolerable length in the +text, and has likewise been handled with extraordinary power by the +pen of the gifted but irreligious Volney; moreover, the <i>élite</i> +of the Roman priesthood are perfectly well aware that their system is +nothing but Buddhism under a slight disguise, and the European world +in general has entertained for some time past an inkling of the fact.<br> +<br> +And now a few words with respect to the motives of the writer for expressing +a hatred for Rome.<br> +<br> +This expressed abhorrence of the author for Rome might be entitled to +little regard, provided it were possible to attribute it to any self-interested +motive. There have been professed enemies of Rome, or of this +or that system; but their professed enmity may frequently be traced +to some cause which does them little credit; but the writer of these +lines has no motive, and can have no motive, for his enmity to Rome, +save the abhorrence of an honest heart for what is false, base, and +cruel. A certain clergyman wrote with much heat against the Papists +in the time of - who was known to favour the Papists, but was not expected +to continue long in office, and whose supposed successor, the person, +indeed, who did succeed him, was thought to be hostile to the Papists. +This divine, who obtained a rich benefice from the successor of - who +during -‘s time had always opposed him in everything he proposed +to do, and who, of course, during that time affected to be very inimical +to Popery - this divine might well be suspected of having a motive equally +creditable for writing against the Papists, as that which induced him +to write for them, as soon as his patron, who eventually did something +more for him, had espoused their cause; but what motive, save an honest +one, can the present writer have, for expressing an abhorrence of Popery? +He is no clergyman, and consequently can expect neither benefices nor +bishoprics, supposing it were the fashion of the present, or likely +to be the fashion of any future administration, to reward clergymen +with benefices or bishoprics, who, in the defence of the religion of +their country write, or shall write, against Popery, and not to reward +those who write, or shall write, in favour of it, and all its nonsense +and abominations.<br> +<br> +“But if not a clergyman, he is the servant of a certain society, +which has the overthrow of Popery in view, and therefore,” etc. +This assertion, which has been frequently made, is incorrect, even as +those who have made it probably knew it to be. He is the servant +of no society whatever. He eats his own bread, and is one of the +very few men in England who are independent in every sense of the word.<br> +<br> +It is true he went to Spain with the colours of that society on his +hat - oh! the blood glows in his veins! oh! the marrow awakes in his +old bones when he thinks of what he accomplished in Spain in the cause +of religion and civilization with the colours of that society in his +hat, and its weapon in his hand, even the sword of the word of God; +how with that weapon he hewed left and right, making the priests fly +before him, and run away squeaking: “Vaya! que demonio es este!” +Ay, and when he thinks of the plenty of Bible swords which he left behind +him, destined to prove, and which have already proved, pretty calthrops +in the heels of Popery. “Halloo! Batuschca,” he exclaimed +the other night, on reading an article in a newspaper; “what do +you think of the present doings in Spain? Your old friend the +zingaro, the gitano who rode about Spain, to say nothing of Galicia, +with the Greek Buchini behind him as his squire, had a hand in bringing +them about; there are many brave Spaniards connected with the present +movement who took Bibles from his hands, and read them and profited +by them, learning from the inspired page the duties of one man towards +another, and the real value of a priesthood and their head, who set +at nought the word of God, and think only of their own temporal interests; +ay, and who learned Gitano - their own Gitano - from the lips of the +London Caloró, and also songs in the said Gitano, very fit to +dumbfounder your semi-Buddhist priests when they attempt to bewilder +people’s minds with their school-logic and pseudo-ecclesiastical +nonsense, songs such as -<br> +<br> +<br> +“Un Erajai<br> +Sinaba chibando un sermon - .”<br> +<br> +<br> +- But with that society he has long since ceased to have any connection; +he bade it adieu with feelings of love and admiration more than fourteen +years ago; so, in continuing to assault Popery, no hopes of interest +founded on that society can sway his mind - interest! who, with worldly +interest in view, would ever have anything to do with that society? +It is poor and supported, like its founder Christ, by poor people; and +so far from having political influence, it is in such disfavour, and +has ever been, with the dastardly great, to whom the government of England +has for many years past been confided, that they having borne its colours +only for a month would be sufficient to exclude any man, whatever his +talents, his learning, or his courage may be, from the slightest chance +of being permitted to serve his country either for fee, or without. +A fellow who unites in himself the bankrupt trader, the broken author, +or rather book-maker, and the laughed-down single speech spouter of +the House of Commons, may look forward, always supposing that at one +time he has been a foaming radical, to the government of an important +colony. Ay, an ancient fox who has lost his tail may, provided +he has a score of radical friends, who will swear that he can bark Chinese, +though Chinese is not barked but sung, be forced upon a Chinese colony, +though it is well known that to have lost one’s tail is considered +by the Chinese in general as an irreparable infamy, whilst to have been +once connected with a certain society, to which, to its honour be it +said, all the radical party are vehemently hostile, would be quite sufficient +to keep any one not only from a government, but something much less, +even though he could translate the rhymed “Sessions of Hariri,” +and were versed, still retaining his tail, in the two languages in which +Kien-Loung wrote his Eulogium on Moukden, that piece which, translated +by Amyot, the learned Jesuit, won the applause of the celebrated Voltaire.<br> +<br> +No! were the author influenced by hopes of fee or reward, he would, +instead of writing against Popery, write for it; all the trumpery titled +- he will not call them great again - would then be for him, and their +masters the radicals, with their hosts of newspapers, would be for him, +more especially if he would commence maligning the society whose colours +he had once on his hat - a society which, as the priest says in the +text, is one of the very few Protestant institutions for which the Popish +Church entertains any fear, and consequently respect, as it respects +nothing which it does not fear. The writer said that certain “rulers” +would never forgive him for having been connected with that society; +he went perhaps too far in saying “never.” It is probable +that they would take him into favour on one condition, which is, that +he should turn his pen and his voice against that society; such a mark +“of a better way of thinking” would perhaps induce them +to give him a government, nearly as good as that which they gave to +a certain ancient radical fox at the intercession of his radical friends +(who were bound to keep him from the pauper’s kennel), after he +had promised to foam, bark, and snarl at corruption no more; he might +even entertain hopes of succeeding, nay, of superseding, the ancient +creature in his government; but even were he as badly off as he is well +off, he would do no such thing. He would rather exist on crusts +and water; he has often done so, and been happy; nay, he would rather +starve than be a rogue - for even the feeling of starvation is happiness +compared with what he feels who knows himself to be a rogue, provided +he has any feeling at all. What is the use of a mitre or knighthood +to a man who has betrayed his principles? What is the use of a +gilt collar, nay, even of a pair of scarlet breeches, to a fox who has +lost his tail? Oh! the horror which haunts the mind of a fox who +has lost his tail; and with reason, for his very mate loathes him, and +more especially if, like himself, she has lost her brush. Oh! +the horror which haunts the mind of the two-legged rogue who has parted +with his principles, or those which he professed - for what? We’ll +suppose a government. What’s the use of a government, if +the next day after you have received it, you are obliged for very shame +to scurry off to it with the hoot of every honest man sounding in your +ears?<br> +<br> +<br> +“Lightly liar leaped and away ran.”<br> +PIERS PLOWMAN.<br> +<br> +<br> +But bigotry, it has been said, makes the author write against Popery; +and thorough-going bigotry, indeed, will make a person say or do anything. +But the writer is a very pretty bigot truly! Where will the public +find traces of bigotry in anything he has written? He has written +against Rome with all his heart, with all his mind, with all his soul, +and with all his strength; but as a person may be quite honest, and +speak and write against Rome, in like manner he may speak and write +against her, and be quite free from bigotry; though it is impossible +for any one but a bigot or a bad man to write or speak in her praise; +her doctrines, actions, and machinations being what they are.<br> +<br> +Bigotry! The author was born, and has always continued in the +wrong church for bigotry, the quiet, unpretending Church of England; +a church which, had it been a bigoted church, and not long suffering +almost to a fault, might with its opportunities, as the priest says +in the text, have stood in a very different position from that which +it occupies at present. No! let those who are in search of bigotry, +seek for it in a church very different from the inoffensive Church of +England, which never encourages cruelty or calumny. Let them seek +for it amongst the members of the Church of Rome, and more especially +amongst those who have renegaded to it. There is nothing, however +false and horrible, which a pervert to Rome will not say for his church, +and which his priests will not encourage him in saying; and there is +nothing, however horrible - the more horrible indeed and revolting to +human nature, the more eager he would be to do it - which he will not +do for it, and which his priests will not encourage him in doing.<br> +<br> +Of the readiness which converts to Popery exhibit to sacrifice all the +ties of blood and affection on the shrine of their newly-adopted religion, +there is a curious illustration in the work of Luigi Pulci. This +man, who was born at Florence in the year 1432, and who was deeply versed +in the Bible, composed a poem, called the “Morgante Maggiore,” +which he recited at the table of Lorenzo de Medici, the great patron +of Italian genius. It is a mock-heroic and religious poem, in +which the legends of knight-errantry, and of the Popish Church, are +turned to unbounded ridicule. The pretended hero of it is a converted +giant, called Morgante; though his adventures do not occupy the twentieth +part of the poem, the principal personages being Charlemagne, Orlando, +and his cousin Rinaldo of Montalban. Morgante has two brothers, +both of them giants, and in the first canto of the poem, Morgante is +represented with his brothers as carrying on a feud with the abbot and +monks of a certain convent, built upon the confines of heathenesse; +the giants being in the habit of flinging down stones, or rather huge +rocks, on the convent. Orlando, however, who is banished from +the court of Charlemagne, arriving at the convent, undertakes to destroy +them, and, accordingly, kills Passamonte and Alabastro, and converts +Morgante, whose mind had been previously softened by a vision, in which +the “Blessed Virgin” figures. No sooner is he converted +than, as a sign of his penitence, what does he do, but hastens and cuts +off the hands of his two brothers, saying -<br> +<br> +<br> +“Io vo’ tagliar le mani a tutti quanti<br> +E porterolle a que’ monaci santi.”<br> +<br> +<br> +And he does cut off the hands of his brethren, and carries them to the +abbot, who blesses him for so doing. Pulci here is holding up +to ridicule and execration the horrid butchery or betrayal of friends +by popish converts, and the encouragement they receive from the priest. +No sooner is a person converted to Popery, than his principal thought +is how he can bring the hands and feet of his brethren, however harmless +they may be, and different from the giants, to the “holy priests,” +who, if he manages to do so, never fail to praise him, saying to the +miserable wretch, as the abbot said to Morgante:-<br> +<br> +<br> +“Tu sarai or perfetto e vero amico<br> +A Cristo, quanto tu gli eri nemico.”<br> +<br> +<br> +Can the English public deny the justice of Pulci’s illustration, +after something which it has lately witnessed? Has it not seen +equivalents for the hands and feet of brothers carried by popish perverts +to the “holy priests,” and has it not seen the manner in +which the offering has been received? Let those who are in quest +of bigotry seek for it among the perverts to Rome, and not amongst those +who, born in the pale of the Church of England, have always continued +in it.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER III<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +On Foreign Nonsense.<br> +<br> +<br> +With respect to the third point, various lessons which the book reads +to the nation at large, and which it would be well for the nation to +ponder and profit by.<br> +<br> +There are many species of nonsense to which the nation is much addicted, +and of which the perusal of Lavengro ought to give them a wholesome +shame. First of all, with respect to the foreign nonsense so prevalent +now in England. The hero is a scholar; but, though possessed of +a great many tongues, he affects to be neither Frenchman, nor German, +nor this or that foreigner; he is one who loves his country, and the +language and literature of his country, and speaks up for each and all +when there is occasion to do so. Now what is the case with nine +out of ten amongst those of the English who study foreign languages? +No sooner have they picked up a smattering of this or that speech than +they begin to abuse their own country, and everything connected with +it, more especially its language. This is particularly the case +with those who call themselves German students. It is said, and +the writer believes with truth, that when a woman falls in love with +a particularly ugly fellow, she squeezes him with ten times more zest +than she would a handsome one, if captivated by him. So it is +with these German students; no sooner have they taken German in hand +than there is nothing like German. Oh, the dear delightful German! +How proud I am that it is now my own, and that its divine literature +is within my reach! And all this whilst mumbling the most uncouth +speech, and crunching the most crabbed literature in Europe. The +writer is not an exclusive admirer of everything English; he does not +advise his country people never to go abroad, never to study foreign +languages, and he does not wish to persuade them that there is nothing +beautiful or valuable in foreign literature; he only wishes that they +would not make themselves fools with respect to foreign people, foreign +languages or reading; that if they chance to have been in Spain, and +have picked up a little Spanish, they would not affect the airs of Spaniards; +that if males they would not make Tomfools of themselves by sticking +cigars into their mouths, dressing themselves in zamarras, and saying, +carajo! <a name="citation2"></a><a href="#footnote2">{2}</a> and if +females that they would not make zanies of themselves by sticking cigars +into their mouths, flinging mantillas over their heads, and by saying +carai, and perhaps carajo too; or if they have been in France or Italy, +and have picked up a little French or Italian, they would not affect +to be French or Italians; and particularly, after having been a month +or two in Germany, or picked up a little German in England, they would +not make themselves foolish about everything German, as the Anglo-German +in the book does - a real character, the founder of the Anglo-German +school in England, and the cleverest Englishman who ever talked or wrote +encomiastic nonsense about Germany and the Germans. Of all infatuations +connected with what is foreign, the infatuation about everything that +is German, to a certain extent prevalent in England, is assuredly the +most ridiculous. One can find something like a palliation for +people making themselves somewhat foolish about particular languages, +literatures, and people. The Spanish certainly is a noble language, +and there is something wild and captivating in the Spanish character, +and its literature contains the grand book of the world. French +is a manly language. The French are the great martial people in +the world; and French literature is admirable in many respects. +Italian is a sweet language, and of beautiful simplicity - its literature +perhaps the first in the world. The Italians! - wonderful men +have sprung up in Italy. Italy is not merely famous for painters, +poets, musicians, singers, and linguists - the greatest linguist the +world ever saw, the late Cardinal Mezzofanti, was an Italian; but it +is celebrated for men - men emphatically speaking: Columbus was an Italian, +Alexander Farnese was an Italian, so was the mightiest of the mighty, +Napoleon Bonaparte; - but the German language, German literature, and +the Germans! The writer has already stated his opinion with respect +to German; he does not speak from ignorance or prejudice; he has heard +German spoken, and many other languages. German literature! +He does not speak from ignorance, he has read that and many a literature, +and he repeats - However, he acknowledges that there is one fine +poem in the German language, that poem is the “Oberon;” +a poem, by the bye, ignored by the Germans - a speaking fact - and of +course, by the Anglo-Germanists. The Germans! he has been amongst +them, and amongst many other nations, and confesses that his opinion +of the Germans, as men, is a very low one. Germany, it is true, +has produced one very great man, the monk who fought the Pope, and nearly +knocked him down; but this man his countrymen - a telling fact - affect +to despise, and, of course, the Anglo-Germanists: the father of Anglo-Germanism +was very fond of inveighing against Luther.<br> +<br> +The madness, or rather foolery, of the English for foreign customs, +dresses, and languages, is not an affair of to-day, or yesterday - it +is of very ancient date, and was very properly exposed nearly three +centuries ago by one Andrew Borde, who under the picture of a “Naked +man, with a pair of shears in one hand, and a roll of cloth in the other,” +<a name="citation3"></a><a href="#footnote3">{3}</a> inserted the following +lines along with others:-<br> +<br> +<br> +“I am an Englishman, and naked I stand here,<br> +Musing in my mind what garment I shall weare;<br> +For now I will weare this, and now I will weare that,<br> +Now I will weare, I cannot tell what.<br> +All new fashions be pleasant to mee,<br> +I will have them, whether I thrive or thee;<br> +What do I care if all the world me fail?<br> +I will have a garment reach to my taile;<br> +Then am I a minion, for I wear the new guise.<br> +The next yeare after I hope to be wise,<br> +Not only in wearing my gorgeous array,<br> +For I will go to learning a whole summer’s day;<br> +I will learn Latine, Hebrew, Greek, and French,<br> +And I will learn Dutch, sitting on my bench.<br> +I had no peere if to myself I were true,<br> +Because I am not so, divers times do I rue.<br> +Yet I lacke nothing, I have all things at will<br> +If I were wise and would hold myself still,<br> +And meddle with no matters but to me pertaining,<br> +But ever to be true to God and my king.<br> +But I have such matters rowling in my pate,<br> +That I will and do - I cannot tell what,” etc.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER IV<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +On Gentility Nonsense - Illustrations of Gentility.<br> +<br> +<br> +What is gentility? People in different stations in England - entertain +different ideas of what is genteel, <a name="citation4"></a><a href="#footnote4">{4}</a> +but it must be something gorgeous, glittering, or tawdry, to be considered +genteel by any of them. The beau-ideal of the English aristocracy, +of course with some exceptions, is some young fellow with an imperial +title, a military personage of course, for what is military is so particularly +genteel, with flaming epaulets, a cocked hat and plume, a prancing charger, +and a band of fellows called generals and colonels, with flaming epaulets, +cocked hats and plumes, and prancing chargers vapouring behind him. +It was but lately that the daughter of an English marquis was heard +to say, that the sole remaining wish of her heart - she had known misfortunes, +and was not far from fifty - was to be introduced to - whom? The +Emperor of Austria! The sole remaining wish of the heart of one +who ought to have been thinking of the grave and judgment, was to be +introduced to the miscreant who had caused the blood of noble Hungarian +females to be whipped out of their shoulders, for no other crime than +devotion to their country, and its tall and heroic sons. The middle +classes - of course there are some exceptions - admire the aristocracy, +and consider them pinks, the aristocracy who admire the Emperor of Austria, +and adored the Emperor of Russia, till he became old, ugly, and unfortunate, +when their adoration instantly terminated; for what is more ungenteel +than age, ugliness, and misfortune! The beau-ideal with those +of the lower classes, with peasants and mechanics, is some flourishing +railroad contractor: look, for example, how they worship Mr. Flamson. +This person makes his grand débût in the year ‘thirty-nine, +at a public meeting in the principal room of a country inn. He +has come into the neighbourhood with the character of a man worth a +million pounds, who is to make everybody’s fortune; at this time, +however, he is not worth a shilling of his own, though he flashes about +dexterously three or four thousand pounds, part of which sum he has +obtained by specious pretences, and part from certain individuals who +are his confederates. But in the year ‘forty-nine, he is +really in possession of the fortune which he and his agents pretended +to be worth ten years before - he is worth a million pounds. By +what means has he come by them? By railroad contracts, for which +he takes care to be paid in hard cash before he attempts to perform +them, and to carry out which he makes use of the sweat and blood of +wretches who, since their organization, have introduced crimes and language +into England to which it was previously almost a stranger - by purchasing, +with paper, shares by hundreds in the schemes to execute which he contracts, +and which are his own devising; which shares he sells as soon as they +are at a high premium, to which they are speedily forced by means of +paragraphs, inserted by himself and agents, in newspapers devoted to +his interest, utterly reckless of the terrible depreciation to which +they are almost instantly subjected. But he is worth a million +pounds, there can be no doubt of the fact - he has not made people’s +fortunes, at least those whose fortunes it was said he would make; he +has made them away; but his own he has made, emphatically made it; he +is worth a million pounds. Hurrah for the millionnaire! +The clown who views the pandemonium of red brick which he has built +on the estate which he has purchased in the neighbourhood of the place +of his grand débût, in which every species of architecture, +Greek, Indian, and Chinese, is employed in caricature - who hears of +the grand entertainment he gives at Christmas in the principal dining-room, +the hundred wax-candles, the waggon-load of plate, and the ocean of +wine which form parts of it, and above all the two ostrich poults, one +at the head, and the other at the foot of the table, exclaims, “Well! +if he a’n’t bang up, I don’t know who be; why he beats +my lord hollow!” The mechanic of the borough town, who sees +him dashing through the streets in an open landau, drawn by four milk-white +horses, amidst his attendant out-riders; his wife, a monster of a woman, +by his side, stout as the wife of Tamerlane, who weighed twenty stone, +and bedizened out like her whose person shone with the jewels of plundered +Persia, stares with silent wonder, and at last exclaims “That’s +the man for my vote!” You tell the clown that the man of +the mansion has contributed enormously to corrupt the rural innocence +of England; you point to an incipient branch railroad, from around which +the accents of Gomorrah are sounding, and beg him to listen for a moment, +and then close his ears. Hodge scratches his head and says, “Well, +I have nothing to say to that; all I know is, that he is bang up, and +I wish I were he;” perhaps he will add - a Hodge has been known +to add - “He has been kind enough to put my son on that very railroad; +‘tis true the company is somewhat queer, and the work rather killing, +but he gets there half-a-crown a day, whereas from the farmers he would +only get eighteen-pence.” You remind the mechanic that the +man in the landau has been the ruin of thousands and you mention people +whom he himself knows, people in various grades of life, widows and +orphans amongst them, whose little all has been dissipated, and whom +he has reduced to beggary by inducing them to become sharers in his +delusive schemes. But the mechanic says, “Well, the more +fools they to let themselves be robbed. But I don’t call +that kind of thing robbery, I merely call it out-witting; and everybody +in this free country has a right to outwit others if he can. What +a turn-out he has!” One was once heard to add, “I +never saw a more genteel-looking man in all my life except one, and +that was a gentleman’s walley, who was much like him. It +is true that he is rather under-sized, but then madam, you know, makes +up for all.”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER V<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Subject of Gentility continued.<br> +<br> +<br> +In the last chapter have been exhibited specimens of gentility, so considered +by different classes; by one class power, youth, and epaulets are considered +the ne plus ultra of gentility; by another class pride, stateliness, +and title; by another, wealth and flaming tawdriness. But what +constitutes a gentleman? It is easy to say at once what constitutes +a gentleman, and there are no distinctions in what is gentlemanly, <a name="citation5"></a><a href="#footnote5">{5}</a> +as there are in what is genteel. The characteristics of a gentleman +are high feeling - a determination never to take a cowardly advantage +of another - a liberal education - absence of narrow views - generosity +and courage, propriety of behaviour. Now a person may be genteel +according to one or another of the three standards described above, +and not possess one of the characteristics of a gentleman. Is +the emperor a gentleman, with spatters of blood on his clothes, scourged +from the backs of noble Hungarian women? Are the aristocracy gentlefolks, +who admire him? Is Mr. Flamson a gentleman, although he has a +million pounds? No! cowardly miscreants, admirers of cowardly +miscreants, and people who make a million pounds by means compared with +which those employed to make fortunes by the getters up of the South +Sea Bubble might be called honest dealing, are decidedly not gentlefolks. +Now as it is clearly demonstrable that a person may be perfectly genteel +according to some standard or other, and yet be no gentleman, so it +is demonstrable that a person may have no pretensions to gentility, +and yet be a gentleman. For example, there is Lavengro! +Would the admirers of the emperor, or the admirers of those who admire +the emperor, or the admirers of Mr. Flamson, call him genteel? and gentility +with them is everything! Assuredly they would not; and assuredly +they would consider him respectively as a being to be shunned, despised, +or hooted. Genteel! Why at one time he is a hack author +- writes reviewals for eighteenpence a page - edits a Newgate chronicle. +At another he wanders the country with a face grimy from occasionally +mending kettles; and there is no evidence that his clothes are not seedy +and torn, and his shoes down at the heel; but by what process of reasoning +will they prove that he is no gentleman? Is he not learned? +Has he not generosity and courage? Whilst a hack author, does +he pawn the books entrusted to him to review? Does he break his +word to his publisher? Does he write begging letters? Does +he get clothes or lodgings without paying for them? Again, whilst +a wanderer, does he insult helpless women on the road with loose proposals +or ribald discourse? Does he take what is not his own from the +hedges? Does he play on the fiddle, or make faces in public-houses, +in order to obtain pence or beer? or does he call for liquor, swallow +it, and then say to a widowed landlady, “Mistress, I have no brass?” +In a word, what vice and crime does he perpetrate - what low acts does +he commit? Therefore, with his endowments, who will venture to +say that he is no gentleman? - unless it be an admirer of Mr. Flamson +- a clown - who will, perhaps, shout - “I say he is no gentleman; +for who can be a gentleman who keeps no gig?”<br> +<br> +The indifference exhibited by Lavengro for what is merely genteel, compared +with his solicitude never to infringe the strict laws of honour, should +read a salutary lesson. The generality of his countrymen are far +more careful not to transgress the customs of what they call gentility, +than to violate the laws of honour or morality. They will shrink +from carrying their own carpet-bag, and from speaking to a person in +seedy raiment, whilst to matters of much higher importance they are +shamelessly indifferent. Not so Lavengro; he will do anything +that he deems convenient, or which strikes his fancy, provided it does +not outrage decency, or is unallied to profligacy; is not ashamed to +speak to a beggar in rags, and will associate with anybody, provided +he can gratify a laudable curiosity. He has no abstract love for +what is low, or what the world calls low. He sees that many things +which the world looks down upon are valuable, so he prizes much which +the world condemns; he sees that many things which the world admires +are contemptible, so he despises much which the world does not; but +when the world prizes what is really excellent, he does not contemn +it, because the world regards it. If he learns Irish, which all +the world scoffs at, he likewise learns Italian, which all the world +melts at. If he learns Gypsy, the language of the tattered tent, +he likewise learns Greek, the language of the college-hall. If +he learns smithery, he also learns - ah! what does he learn to set against +smithery? - the law? No; he does not learn the law, which, by +the way, is not very genteel. Swimming? Yes, he learns to +swim. Swimming, however, is not genteel; and the world - at least +the genteel part of it - acts very wisely in setting its face against +it; for to swim you must be naked, and how would many a genteel person +look without his clothes? Come, he learns horsemanship; a very +genteel accomplishment, which every genteel person would gladly possess, +though not all genteel people do.<br> +<br> +Again as to associates: if he holds communion when a boy with Murtagh, +the scarecrow of an Irish academy, he associates in after life with +Francis Ardry, a rich and talented young Irish gentleman about town. +If he accepts an invitation from Mr. Petulengro to his tent, he has +no objection to go home with a rich genius to dinner; who then will +say that he prizes a thing or a person because they are ungenteel? +That he is not ready to take up with everything that is ungenteel he +gives a proof, when he refuses, though on the brink of starvation, to +become bonnet to the thimble-man, an office, which, though profitable, +is positively ungenteel. Ah! but some sticker-up for gentility +will exclaim, “The hero did not refuse this office from an insurmountable +dislike to its ungentility, but merely from a feeling of principle.” +Well! the writer is not fond of argument, and he will admit that such +was the case; he admits that it was a love of principle, rather than +an over-regard for gentility, which prevented the hero from accepting, +when on the brink of starvation, an ungenteel though lucrative office, +an office which, the writer begs leave to observe, many a person with +a great regard for gentility, and no particular regard for principle, +would in a similar strait have accepted; for when did a mere love for +gentility keep a person from being a dirty scoundrel, when the alternatives +were “either be a dirty scoundrel or starve?” One +thing, however, is certain, which is, that Lavengro did not accept the +office, which if a love for what is low had been his ruling passion +he certainly would have done; consequently, he refuses to do one thing +which no genteel person would willingly do, even as he does many things +which every genteel person would gladly do, for example, speaks Italian, +rides on horseback, associates with a fashionable young man, dines with +a rich genius, et cetera. Yet - and it cannot be minced - he and +gentility with regard to many things are at strange divergency; he shrinks +from many things at which gentility placidly hums a tune, or approvingly +simpers, and does some things at which gentility positively shrinks. +He will not run into debt for clothes or lodgings, which he might do +without any scandal to gentility; he will not receive money from Francis +Ardry, and go to Brighton with the sister of Annette Le Noir, though +there is nothing ungenteel in borrowing money from a friend, even when +you never intend to repay him, and something poignantly genteel in going +to a watering-place with a gay young Frenchwoman; but he has no objection, +after raising twenty pounds by the sale of that extraordinary work “Joseph +Sell,” to set off into the country, mend kettles under hedge-rows, +and make pony and donkey shoes in a dingle. Here, perhaps, some +plain, well-meaning person will cry - and with much apparent justice +- how can the writer justify him in this act? What motive, save +a love for what is low, could induce him to do such a thing? Would +the writer have everybody who is in need of recreation go into the country, +mend kettles under hedges, and make pony shoes in dingles? To +such an observation the writer would answer, that Lavengro had an excellent +motive in doing what he did, but that the writer is not so unreasonable +as to wish everybody to do the same. It is not everybody who can +mend kettles. It is not everybody who is in similar circumstances +to those in which Lavengro was. Lavengro flies from London and +hack authorship, and takes to the roads from fear of consumption; it +is expensive to put up at inns, and even at public-houses, and Lavengro +has not much money; so he buys a tinker’s cart and apparatus, +and sets up as tinker, and subsequently as blacksmith; a person living +in a tent, or in anything else, must do something or go mad; Lavengro +had a mind, as he himself well knew, with some slight tendency to madness, +and had he not employed himself, he must have gone wild; so to employ +himself he drew upon one of his resources, the only one available at +the time. Authorship had nearly killed him, he was sick of reading, +and had besides no books; but he possessed the rudiments of an art akin +to tinkering; he knew something of smithery, having served a kind of +apprenticeship in Ireland to a fairy smith; so he draws upon his smithery +to enable him to acquire tinkering, he speedily acquires that craft, +even as he had speedily acquired Welsh, owing to its connection with +Irish, which language he possessed; and with tinkering he amuses himself +until he lays it aside to resume smithery. A man who has an innocent +resource, has quite as much right to draw upon it in need, as he has +upon a banker in whose hands he has placed a sum; Lavengro turns to +advantage, under particular circumstances, a certain resource which +he has, but people who are not so forlorn as Lavengro, and have not +served the same apprenticeship which he had, are not advised to follow +his example. Surely he was better employed in plying the trades +of tinker and smith than in having recourse to vice, in running after +milk-maids, for example. Running after milk-maids is by no means +an ungenteel rural diversion; but let any one ask some respectable casuist +(the Bishop of London for example), whether Lavengro was not far better +employed, when in the country, at tinkering and smithery than he would +have been in running after all the milk-maids in Cheshire, though tinkering +is in general considered a very ungenteel employment, and smithery little +better, notwithstanding that an Orcadian poet, who wrote in Norse about +eight hundred years ago, reckons the latter among nine noble arts which +he possessed, naming it along with playing at chess, on the harp, and +ravelling runes, or as the original has it, “treading runes” +- that is, compressing them into a small compass by mingling one letter +with another, even as the Turkish caligraphists ravel the Arabic letters, +more especially those who write talismans.<br> +<br> +<br> +“Nine arts have I, all noble;<br> +I play at chess so free,<br> +At ravelling runes I’m ready,<br> +At books and smithery;<br> +I’m skilled o’er ice at skimming<br> +On skates, I shoot and row,<br> +And few at harping match me,<br> +Or minstrelsy, I trow.”<br> +<br> +<br> +But though Lavengro takes up smithery, which, though the Orcadian ranks +it with chess-playing and harping, is certainly somewhat of a grimy +art, there can be no doubt that, had he been wealthy and not so forlorn +as he was, he would have turned to many things, honourable, of course, +in preference. He has no objection to ride a fine horse when he +has the opportunity: he has his day-dream of making a fortune of two +hundred thousand pounds by becoming a merchant and doing business after +the Armenian fashion; and there can be no doubt that he would have been +glad to wear fine clothes, provided he had had sufficient funds to authorize +him in wearing them. For the sake of wandering the country and +plying the hammer and tongs, he would not have refused a commission +in the service of that illustrious monarch George the Fourth, provided +he had thought that he could live on his pay, and not be forced to run +in debt to tradesmen, without any hope of paying them, for clothes and +luxuries, as many highly genteel officers in that honourable service +were in the habit of doing. For the sake of tinkering, he would +certainly not have refused a secretaryship of an embassy to Persia, +in which he might have turned his acquaintance with Persian, Arabic, +and the Lord only knows what other languages, to account. He took +to tinkering and smithery, because no better employments were at his +command. No war is waged in the book against rank, wealth, fine +clothes, or dignified employments; it is shown, however, that a person +may be a gentleman and a scholar without them. Rank, wealth, fine +clothes, and dignified employments, are no doubt very fine things, but +they are merely externals, they do not make a gentleman, they add external +grace and dignity to the gentleman and scholar, but they make neither; +and is it not better to be a gentleman without them than not a gentleman +with them? Is not Lavengro, when he leaves London on foot with +twenty pounds in his pocket, entitled to more respect than Mr. Flamson +flaming in his coach with a million? And is not even the honest +jockey at Horncastle, who offers a fair price to Lavengro for his horse, +entitled to more than the scoundrel lord, who attempts to cheat him +of one-fourth of its value?<br> +<br> +Millions, however, seem to think otherwise, by their servile adoration +of people whom without rank, wealth, and fine clothes they would consider +infamous, but whom possessed of rank, wealth, and glittering habiliments +they seem to admire all the more for their profligacy and crimes. +Does not a blood-spot, or a lust-spot, on the clothes of a blooming +emperor, give a kind of zest to the genteel young god? Do not +the pride, superciliousness, and selfishness of a certain aristocracy +make it all the more regarded by its worshippers? and do not the clownish +and gutter-blood admirers of Mr. Flamson like him all the more because +they are conscious that he is a knave? If such is the case +- and, alas! is it not the case? - they cannot be too frequently told +that fine clothes, wealth, and titles adorn a person in proportion as +he adorns them; that if worn by the magnanimous and good they are ornaments +indeed, but if by the vile and profligate they are merely san benitos, +and only serve to make their infamy doubly apparent; and that a person +in seedy raiment and tattered hat, possessed of courage, kindness, and +virtue, is entitled to more respect from those to whom his virtues are +manifested than any cruel profligate emperor, selfish aristocrat, or +knavish millionaire in the world.<br> +<br> +The writer has no intention of saying that all in England are affected +with the absurd mania for gentility; nor is such a statement made in +the book; it is shown therein that individuals of certain classes can +prize a gentleman, notwithstanding seedy raiment, dusty shoes or tattered +hat, - for example, the young Irishman, the rich genius, the postillion, +and his employer. Again, when the life of the hero is given to +the world, amidst the howl about its lowness and vulgarity, raised by +the servile crew whom its independence of sentiment has stung, more +than one powerful voice has been heard testifying approbation of its +learning and the purity of its morality. That there is some salt +in England, minds not swayed by mere externals, he is fully convinced; +if he were not, he would spare himself the trouble of writing; but to +the fact that the generality of his countrymen are basely grovelling +before the shrine of what they are pleased to call gentility, he cannot +shut his eyes.<br> +<br> + Oh! what a clever person that Cockney was, who, travelling in +the Aberdeen railroad carriage, after edifying the company with his +remarks on various subjects, gave it as his opinion that Lieutenant +P--- would, in future, be shunned by all respectable society! +And what a simple person that elderly gentleman was, who, abruptly starting, +asked in rather an authoritative voice, “and why should Lieutenant +P--- be shunned by respectable society?” and who, after entering +into what was said to be a masterly analysis of the entire evidence +of the case, concluded by stating, “that having been accustomed +to all kinds of evidence all his life, he had never known a case in +which the accused had obtained a more complete and triumphant justification +than Lieutenant P--- had done in the late trial.”<br> +<br> +Now the Cockney, who is said to have been a very foppish Cockney, was +perfectly right in what he said, and therein manifested a knowledge +of the English mind and character, and likewise of the modern English +language, to which his catechist, who, it seems, was a distinguished +member of the Scottish bar, could lay no pretensions. The Cockney +knew what the Lord of Session knew not, that the British public is gentility +crazy, and he knew, moreover, that gentility and respectability are +synonymous. No one in England is genteel or respectable that is +“looked at,” who is the victim of oppression; he may be +pitied for a time, but when did not pity terminate in contempt? +A poor, harmless young officer - but why enter into the details of the +infamous case? they are but too well known, and if ever cruelty, pride, +and cowardice, and things much worse than even cruelty, cowardice, and +pride were brought to light, and, at the same time, countenanced, they +were in that case. What availed the triumphant justification of +the poor victim? There was at first a roar of indignation against +his oppressors, but how long did it last? He had been turned out +of the service, they remained in it with their red coats and epaulets; +he was merely the son of a man who had rendered good service to his +country, they were, for the most part, highly connected - they were +in the extremest degree genteel, he quite the reverse; so the nation +wavered, considered, thought the genteel side was the safest after all, +and then with the cry of, “Oh! there is nothing like gentility,” +ratted bodily. Newspaper and public turned against the victim, +scouted him, apologized for the - what should they be called? - who +were not only admitted into the most respectable society, but courted +to come, the spots not merely of wine on their military clothes, giving +them a kind of poignancy. But there is a God in heaven; the British +glories are tarnished - Providence has never smiled on British arms +since that case - oh! Balaklava! thy name interpreted is net of +fishes, and well dost thou deserve that name. How many a scarlet +golden fish has of late perished in the mud amidst thee, cursing the +genteel service, and the genteel leader which brought him to such a +doom.<br> +<br> +Whether the rage for gentility is most prevalent amongst the upper, +middle, or lower classes it is difficult to say; the priest in the text +seems to think that it is exhibited in the most decided manner in the +middle class; it is the writer’s opinion, however, that in no +class is it more strongly developed than in the lower: what they call +being well-born goes a great way amongst them, but the possession of +money much farther, whence Mr. Flamson’s influence over them. +Their rage against, and scorn for, any person who by his courage and +talents has advanced himself in life, and still remains poor, are indescribable; +“he is no better than ourselves,” they say, “why should +he be above us?” - for they have no conception that anybody has +a right to ascendency over themselves except by birth or money. +This feeling amongst the vulgar has been, to a certain extent, the bane +of two services, naval and military. The writer does not make +this assertion rashly; he observed this feeling at work in the army +when a child, and he has good reason for believing that it was as strongly +at work in the navy at the same time, and is still as prevalent in both. +Why are not brave men raised from the ranks? is frequently the cry; +why are not brave sailors promoted? The Lord help brave soldiers +and sailors who are promoted; they have less to undergo from the high +airs of their brother officers, and those are hard enough to endure, +than from the insolence of the men. Soldiers and sailors promoted +to command are said to be in general tyrants; in nine cases out of ten, +when they are tyrants, they have been obliged to have recourse to extreme +severity in order to protect themselves from the insolence and mutinous +spirit of the men, - “He is no better than ourselves: shoot him, +bayonet him, or fling him overboard!” they say of some obnoxious +individual raised above them by his merit. Soldiers and sailors, +in general, will bear any amount of tyranny from a lordly sot, or the +son of a man who has “plenty of brass” - their own term +- but will mutiny against the just orders of a skilful and brave officer +who “is no better than themselves.” There was the +affair of the “Bounty,” for example: Bligh was one of the +best seamen that ever trod deck, and one of the bravest of men; proofs +of his seamanship he gave by steering, amidst dreadful weather, a deeply-laden +boat for nearly four thousand miles over an almost unknown ocean - of +his bravery, at the fight of Copenhagen, one of the most desperate ever +fought, of which after Nelson he was the hero: he was, moreover, not +an unkind man; but the crew of the “Bounty” mutinied against +him, and set him half naked in an open boat, with certain of his men +who remained faithful to him, and ran away with the ship. Their +principal motive for doing so was an idea, whether true or groundless +the writer cannot say, that Bligh was “no better than themselves;” +he was certainly neither a lord’s illegitimate, nor possessed +of twenty thousand pounds. The writer knows what he is writing +about, having been acquainted in his early years with an individual +who was turned adrift with Bligh, and who died about the year ‘22, +a lieutenant in the navy, in a provincial town in which the writer was +brought up. The ringleaders in the mutiny were two scoundrels, +Christian and Young, who had great influence with the crew, because +they were genteelly connected. Bligh, after leaving the “Bounty,” +had considerable difficulty in managing the men who had shared his fate, +because they considered themselves “as good men as he,” +notwithstanding, that to his conduct and seamanship they had alone to +look, under Heaven, for salvation from the ghastly perils that surrounded +them. Bligh himself, in his journal, alludes to this feeling. +Once, when he and his companions landed on a desert island, one of them +said, with a mutinous look, that he considered himself “as good +a man as he;” Bligh, seizing a cutlass, called upon him to take +another and defend himself, whereupon the man said that Bligh was going +to kill him, and made all manner of concessions; now why did this fellow +consider himself as good a man as Bligh? Was he as good a seaman? +no, nor a tenth part as good. As brave a man? no, nor a tenth +part as brave; and of these facts he was perfectly well aware, but bravery +and seamanship stood for nothing with him, as they still stand with +thousands of his class; Bligh was not genteel by birth or money, therefore +Bligh was no better than himself. Had Bligh, before he sailed, +got a twenty-thousand pound prize in the lottery, he would have experienced +no insolence from this fellow, for there would have been no mutiny in +the “Bounty.” “He is our betters,” the +crew would have said, “and it is our duty to obey him.”<br> +<br> +The wonderful power of gentility in England is exemplified in nothing +more than in what it is producing amongst Jews, Gypsies, and Quakers. +It is breaking up their venerable communities. All the better, +some one will say. Alas! alas! It is making the wealthy +Jews forsake the synagogue for the opera-house, or the gentility chapel, +in which a disciple of Mr. Platitude, in a white surplice, preaches +a sermon at noon-day from a desk, on each side of which is a flaming +taper. It is making them abandon their ancient literature, their +“Mischna,” their “Gemara,” their “Zohar,” +for gentility novels, “The Young Duke,” the most unexceptionably +genteel book ever written, being the principal favourite. It makes +the young Jew ashamed of the young Jewess, it makes her ashamed of the +young Jew. The young Jew marries an opera-dancer, or if the dancer +will not have him, as is frequently the case, the cast-off Miss of the +Honourable Spencer So-and-so. It makes the young Jewess accept +the honourable offer of a cashiered lieutenant of the Bengal Native +Infantry; or, if such a person does not come forward, the dishonourable +offer of a cornet of a regiment of crack hussars. It makes poor +Jews, male and female, forsake the synagogue for the sixpenny theatre +or penny hop; the Jew to take up with an Irish female of loose character, +and the Jewess with a musician of the Guards, or the Tipperary servant +of Captain Mulligan. With respect to the gypsies, it is making +the women what they never were before - harlots; and the men what they +never were before - careless fathers and husbands. It has made +the daughter of Ursula the chaste take up with the base drummer of a +wild-beast show. It makes Gorgiko Brown, the gypsy man, leave +his tent and his old wife, of an evening, and thrust himself into society +which could well dispense with him. “Brother,” said +Mr. Petulengro to the Romany Rye, after telling him many things connected +with the decadence of gypsyism, “there is one Gorgiko Brown, who, +with a face as black as a tea-kettle, wishes to be mistaken for a Christian +tradesman; he goes into the parlour of a third-rate inn of an evening, +calls for rum and water, and attempts to enter into conversation with +the company about politics and business; the company flout him and give +him the cold shoulder, or perhaps complain to the landlord, who comes +and asks him what business he has in the parlour, telling him if he +wants to drink to go into the tap-room, and perhaps collars him and +kicks him out, provided he refuses to move.” With respect +to the Quakers, it makes the young people like the young Jews, crazy +after gentility diversions, worship, marriages, or connections, and +makes old Pease do what it makes Gorgiko Brown do, thrust himself into +society which could well dispense with him, and out of which he is not +kicked, because unlike the gypsy he is not poor. The writer would +say much more on these points, but want of room prevents him; he must +therefore request the reader to have patience until he can lay before +the world a pamphlet, which he has been long meditating, to be entitled +“Remarks on the strikingly similar Effects which a Love for Gentility +has produced, and is producing, amongst Jews, Gypsies, and Quakers.”<br> +<br> +The Priest in the book has much to say on the subject of this gentility-nonsense; +no person can possibly despise it more thoroughly than that very remarkable +individual seems to do, yet he hails its prevalence with pleasure, knowing +the benefits which will result from it to the church of which he is +the sneering slave. “The English are mad after gentility,” +says he; “well, all the better for us; their religion for a long +time past has been a plain and simple one, and consequently by no means +genteel; they’ll quit it for ours, which is the perfection of +what they admire; with which Templars, Hospitalers, mitred abbots, Gothic +abbeys, long-drawn aisles, golden censers, incense, et cetera, are connected; +nothing, or next to nothing, of Christ, it is true, but weighed in the +balance against gentility, where will Christianity be? why, kicking +against the beam - ho! ho!” And in connection with the gentility-nonsense, +he expatiates largely, and with much contempt, on a species of literature +by which the interests of his church in England have been very much +advanced - all genuine priests have a thorough contempt for everything +which tends to advance the interests of their church - this literature +is made up of pseudo Jacobitism, Charlie o’er the waterism, or +nonsense about Charlie o’er the water. And the writer will +now take the liberty of saying a few words about it on his own account.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER VI<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +On Scotch Gentility-Nonsense - Charlie o’er the Waterism.<br> +<br> +<br> +Of the literature just alluded to Scott was the inventor. It is +founded on the fortunes and misfortunes of the Stuart family, of which +Scott was the zealous defender and apologist, doing all that in his +power lay to represent the members of it as noble, chivalrous, high-minded, +unfortunate princes; though, perhaps, of all the royal families that +ever existed upon the earth, this family was the worst. It was +unfortunate enough, it is true; but it owed its misfortunes entirely +to its crimes, viciousness, bad faith, and cowardice. Nothing +will be said of it here until it made its appearance in England to occupy +the English throne.<br> +<br> +The first of the family which we have to do with, James, was a dirty, +cowardly miscreant, of whom the less said the better. His son, +Charles the First, was a tyrant - exceedingly cruel and revengeful, +but weak and dastardly; he caused a poor fellow to be hanged in London, +who was not his subject, because he had heard that the unfortunate creature +had once bitten his own glove at Cadiz, in Spain, at the mention of +his name; and he permitted his own bull-dog, Strafford, to be executed +by his own enemies, though the only crime of Strafford was, that he +had barked furiously at those enemies, and had worried two or three +of them, when Charles shouted, “Fetch ‘em.” +He was a bitter, but yet a despicable enemy, and the coldest and most +worthless of friends; for though he always hoped to be able, some time +or other, to hang his enemies, he was always ready to curry favour with +them, more especially if he could do so at the expense of his friends. +He was the haughtiest, yet meanest of mankind. He once caned a +young nobleman for appearing before him in the drawing-room not dressed +exactly according to the court etiquette; yet he condescended to flatter +and compliment him who, from principle, was his bitterest enemy, namely, +Harrison, when the republican colonel was conducting him as a prisoner +to London. His bad faith was notorious; it was from abhorrence +of the first public instance which he gave of his bad faith, his breaking +his word to the Infanta of Spain, that the poor Hiberno-Spaniard bit +his glove at Cadiz; and it was his notorious bad faith which eventually +cost him his head; for the Republicans would gladly have spared him, +provided they could put the slightest confidence in any promise, however +solemn, which he might have made to them. Of them, it would be +difficult to say whether they most hated or despised him. Religion +he had none. One day he favoured Popery; the next, on hearing +certain clamours of the people, he sent his wife’s domestics back +packing to France, because they were Papists. Papists, however, +should make him a saint, for he was certainly the cause of the taking +of Rochelle.<br> +<br> +His son, Charles the Second, though he passed his youth in the school +of adversity, learned no other lesson from it than the following one +- take care of yourself, and never do an action, either good or bad, +which is likely to bring you into any great difficulty; and this maxim +he acted up to as soon as he came to the throne. He was a Papist, +but took especial care not to acknowledge his religion, at which he +frequently scoffed, till just before his last gasp, when he knew that +he could lose nothing, and hoped to gain everything by it. He +was always in want of money, but took care not to tax the country beyond +all endurable bounds; preferring to such a bold and dangerous course, +to become the pensioner of Louis, to whom, in return for his gold, he +sacrificed the honour and interests of Britain. He was too lazy +and sensual to delight in playing the part of a tyrant himself; but +he never checked tyranny in others save in one instance. He permitted +beastly butchers to commit unmentionable horrors on the feeble, unarmed, +and disunited Covenanters of Scotland, but checked them when they would +fain have endeavoured to play the same game on the numerous united, +dogged, and warlike Independents of England. To show his filial +piety, he bade the hangman dishonour the corpses of some of his father’s +judges, before whom, when alive, he ran like a screaming hare; but permitted +those who had lost their all in supporting his father’s cause, +to pine in misery and want. He would give to a painted harlot +a thousand pounds for a loathsome embrace, and to a player or buffoon +a hundred for a trumpery pun, but would refuse a penny to the widow +or orphan of an old Royalist soldier. He was the personification +of selfishness; and as he loved and cared for no one, so did no one +love or care for him. So little had he gained the respect or affection +of those who surrounded him, that after his body had undergone an after-death +examination, parts of it were thrown down the sinks of the palace, to +become eventually the prey of the swine and ducks of Westminster.<br> +<br> +His brother, who succeeded him, James the Second, was a Papist, but +sufficiently honest to acknowledge his Popery, but upon the whole, he +was a poor creature; though a tyrant, he was cowardly, had he not been +a coward he would never have lost his throne. There were plenty +of lovers of tyranny in England who would have stood by him, provided +he would have stood by them, and would, though not Papists, have encouraged +him in his attempt to bring back England beneath the sway of Rome, and +perhaps would eventually have become Papists themselves; but the nation +raising a cry against him, and his son-in-law, the Prince of Orange, +invading the country, he forsook his friends, of whom he had a host, +but for whom he cared little - left his throne, for which he cared a +great deal - and Popery in England, for which he cared yet more, to +their fate, and escaped to France, from whence, after taking a little +heart, he repaired to Ireland, where he was speedily joined by a gallant +army of Papists whom he basely abandoned at the Boyne, running away +in a most lamentable condition, at the time when by showing a little +courage he might have enabled them to conquer. This worthy, in +his last will, bequeathed his heart to England - his right arm to Scotland +- and his bowels to Ireland. What the English and Scotch said +to their respective bequests is not known, but it is certain that an +old Irish priest, supposed to have been a great-grand-uncle of the present +Reverend Father Murtagh, on hearing of the bequest to Ireland, fell +into a great passion, and having been brought up at “Paris and +Salamanca,” expressed his indignation in the following strain:- +“Malditas sean tus tripas! teniamos bastante del olor de tus tripas +al tiempo de tu nuida dela batalla del Boyne!”<br> +<br> +His son, generally called the Old Pretender, though born in England, +was carried in his infancy to France, where he was brought up in the +strictest principles of Popery, which principles, however, did not prevent +him becoming (when did they ever prevent any one?) a worthless and profligate +scoundrel; there are some doubts as to the reality of his being a son +of James, which doubts are probably unfounded, the grand proof of his +legitimacy being the thorough baseness of his character. It was +said of his father that he could speak well, and it may be said of him +that he could write well, the only thing he could do which was worth +doing, always supposing that there is any merit in being able to write. +He was of a mean appearance, and, like his father, pusillanimous to +a degree. The meanness of his appearance disgusted, and his pusillanimity +discouraged the Scotch when he made his appearance amongst them in the +year 1715, some time after the standard of rebellion had been hoisted +by Mar. He only stayed a short time in Scotland, and then, seized +with panic, retreated to France, leaving his friends to shift for themselves +as they best could. He died a pensioner of the Pope.<br> +<br> +The son of this man, Charles Edward, of whom so much in later years +has been said and written, was a worthless ignorant youth, and a profligate +and illiterate old man. When young, the best that can be said +of him is, that he had occasionally springs of courage, invariably at +the wrong time and place, which merely served to lead his friends into +inextricable difficulties. When old, he was loathsome and contemptible +to both friend and foe. His wife loathed him, and for the most +terrible of reasons; she did not pollute his couch, for to do that was +impossible - he had made it so vile; but she betrayed it, inviting to +it not only Alfieri the Filthy, but the coarsest grooms. Doctor +King, the warmest and almost last adherent of his family, said, that +there was not a vice or crime of which he was not guilty; as for his +foes, they scorned to harm him even when in their power. In the +year 1745 he came down from the Highlands of Scotland, which had long +been a focus of rebellion. He was attended by certain clans of +the Highlands, desperadoes used to free-bootery from their infancy, +and, consequently, to the use of arms, and possessed of a certain species +of discipline; with these he defeated at Prestonpans a body of men called +soldiers, but who were in reality peasants and artizans, levied about +a month before, without discipline or confidence in each other, and +who were miserably massacred by the Highland army; he subsequently invaded +England, nearly destitute of regular soldiers, and penetrated as far +as Derby, from which place he retreated on learning that regular forces +which had been hastily recalled from Flanders were coming against him, +with the Duke of Cumberland at their head; he was pursued, and his rearguard +overtaken and defeated by the dragoons of the duke at Clifton, from +which place the rebels retreated in great confusion across the Eden +into Scotland, where they commenced dancing Highland reels and strathspeys +on the bank of the river, for joy at their escape, whilst a number of +wretched girls, paramours of some of them, were perishing in the waters +of the swollen river in an attempt to follow them; they themselves passed +over by eighties and by hundreds, arm in arm, for mutual safety, without +the loss of a man, but they left the poor paramours to shift for themselves, +nor did any of these canny people after passing the stream dash back +to rescue a single female life, - no, they were too well employed upon +the bank in dancing strathspeys to the tune of “Charlie o’er +the water.” It was, indeed, Charlie o’er the water, +and canny Highlanders o’er the water, but where were the poor +prostitutes meantime? <i>In the water</i>.<br> +<br> +The Jacobite farce, or tragedy, was speedily brought to a close by the +battle of Culloden; there did Charlie wish himself back again o’er +the water, exhibiting the most unmistakable signs of pusillanimity; +there were the clans cut to pieces, at least those who could be brought +to the charge, and there fell Giles Mac Bean, or as he was called in +Gaelic, Giliosa Mac Beathan, a kind of giant, six feet four inches and +a quarter high, “than whom,” as his wife said in a coronach +she made upon him, “no man who stood at Cuiloitr was taller” +- Giles Mac Bean the Major of the clan Cattan - a great drinker - a +great fisher - a great shooter, and the champion of the Highland host.<br> +<br> +The last of the Stuarts was a cardinal.<br> +<br> +Such were the Stuarts, such their miserable history. They were +dead and buried in every sense of the word until Scott resuscitated +them - how? by the power of fine writing and by calling to his aid that +strange divinity, gentility. He wrote splendid novels about the +Stuarts, in which he represents them as unlike what they really were +as the graceful and beautiful papillon is unlike the hideous and filthy +worm. In a word, he made them genteel, and that was enough to +give them paramount sway over the minds of the British people. +The public became Stuart-mad, and everybody, specially the women, said, +“What a pity it was that we hadn’t a Stuart to govern.” +All parties, Whig, Tory, or Radical, became Jacobite at heart, and admirers +of absolute power. The Whigs talked about the liberty of the subject, +and the Radicals about the rights of man still, but neither party cared +a straw for what it talked about, and mentally swore that, as soon as +by means of such stuff they could get places, and fill their pockets, +they would be as Jacobite as the Jacobs themselves. As for Tories, +no great change in them was necessary; everything favouring absolutism +and slavery being congenial to them. So the whole nation, that +is, the reading part of the nation, with some exceptions, for thank +God there has always been some salt in England, went over the water +to Charlie. But going over to Charlie was not enough, they must, +or at least a considerable part of them, go over to Rome too, or have +a hankering to do so. As the Priest sarcastically observes in +the text, “As all the Jacobs were Papists, so the good folks who +through Scott’s novels admire the Jacobs must be Papists too.” +An idea got about that the religion of such genteel people as the Stuarts +must be the climax of gentility, and that idea was quite sufficient. +Only let a thing, whether temporal or spiritual, be considered genteel +in England, and if it be not followed it is strange indeed; so Scott’s +writings not only made the greater part of the nation Jacobite, but +Popish.<br> +<br> +Here some people will exclaim - whose opinions remain sound and uncontaminated +- what you say is perhaps true with respect to the Jacobite nonsense +at present so prevalent being derived from Scott’s novels, but +the Popish nonsense, which people of the genteeler classes are so fond +of, is derived from Oxford. We sent our sons to Oxford nice honest +lads, educated in the principles of the Church of England, and at the +end of the first term they came home puppies, talking Popish nonsense, +which they had learned from the pedants to whose care we had entrusted +them; ay, not only Popery but Jacobitism, which they hardly carried +with them from home, for we never heard them talking Jacobitism before +they had been at Oxford; but now their conversation is a farrago of +Popish and Jacobite stuff - “Complines and Claverse.” +Now, what these honest folks say is, to a certain extent, founded on +fact; the Popery which has overflowed the land during the last fourteen +or fifteen years, has come immediately from Oxford, and likewise some +of the Jacobitism, Popish and Jacobite nonsense, and little or nothing +else, having been taught at Oxford for about that number of years. +But whence did the pedants get the Popish nonsense with which they have +corrupted youth? Why, from the same quarter from which they got +the Jacobite nonsense with which they have inoculated those lads who +were not inoculated with it before - Scott’s novels. Jacobitism +and Laudism, a kind of half Popery, had at one time been very prevalent +at Oxford, but both had been long consigned to oblivion there, and people +at Oxford cared as little about Laud as they did about the Pretender. +Both were dead and buried there, as everywhere else, till Scott called +them out of their graves, when the pedants of Oxford hailed both - ay, +and the Pope, too, as soon as Scott had made the old fellow fascinating, +through particular novels, more especially the “Monastery” +and “Abbot.” Then the quiet, respectable, honourable +Church of England would no longer do for the pedants of Oxford; they +must belong to a more genteel church - they were ashamed at first to +be downright Romans - so they would be Lauds. The pale-looking, +but exceedingly genteel non-juring clergyman in Waverley was a Laud; +but they soon became tired of being Lauds, for Laud’s Church, +gew-gawish and idolatrous as it was, was not sufficiently tinselly and +idolatrous for them, so they must be Popes, but in a sneaking way, still +calling themselves Church-of-England men, in order to batten on the +bounty of the church which they were betraying, and likewise have opportunities +of corrupting such lads as might still resort to Oxford with principles +uncontaminated.<br> +<br> +So the respectable people, whose opinions are still sound, are, to a +certain extent, right when they say that the tide of Popery, which has +flowed over the land, has come from Oxford. It did come immediately +from Oxford, but how did it get to Oxford? Why, from Scott’s +novels. Oh! that sermon which was the first manifestation of Oxford +feeling, preached at Oxford some time in the year ‘38 by a divine +of a weak and confused intellect, in which Popery was mixed up with +Jacobitism! The present writer remembers perfectly well, on reading +some extracts from it at the time in a newspaper, on the top of a coach, +exclaiming - “Why, the simpleton has been pilfering from Walter +Scott’s novels!”<br> +<br> +O Oxford pedants! Oxford pedants! ye whose politics and religion +are both derived from Scott’s novels! what a pity it is that some +lad of honest parents, whose mind ye are endeavouring to stultify with +your nonsense about “Complines and Claverse,” has not the +spirit to start up and cry, “Confound your gibberish! I’ll +have none of it. Hurrah for the Church, and the principles of +my <i>father</i>!”<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER VII<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Same Subject continued.<br> +<br> +<br> +Now what could have induced Scott to write novels tending to make people +Papists and Jacobites, and in love with arbitrary power? Did he +think that Christianity was a gaudy mummery? He did not, he could +not, for he had read the Bible; yet was he fond of gaudy mummeries, +fond of talking about them. Did he believe that the Stuarts were +a good family, and fit to govern a country like Britain? He knew +that they were a vicious, worthless crew, and that Britain was a degraded +country as long as they swayed the sceptre; but for those facts he cared +nothing, they governed in a way which he liked, for he had an abstract +love of despotism, and an abhorrence of everything savouring of freedom +and the rights of man in general. His favourite political picture +was a joking, profligate, careless king, nominally absolute - the heads +of great houses paying court to, but in reality governing, that king, +whilst revelling with him on the plunder of a nation, and a set of crouching, +grovelling vassals (the literal meaning of vassal is a wretch), who, +after allowing themselves to be horsewhipped, would take a bone if flung +to them, and be grateful; so that in love with mummery, though he knew +what Christianity was, no wonder he admired such a church as that of +Rome, and that which Laud set up; and by nature formed to be the holder +of the candle to ancient worm-eaten and profligate families, no wonder +that all his sympathies were with the Stuarts and their dissipated insolent +party, and all his hatred directed against those who endeavoured to +check them in their proceedings, and to raise the generality of mankind +something above a state of vassalage, that is, wretchedness. Those +who were born great, were, if he could have had his will, always to +remain great, however worthless their characters. Those who were +born low, were always to remain so, however great their talents; though, +if that rule were carried out, where would he have been himself?<br> +<br> +In the book which he called the “History of Napoleon Bonaparte,” +in which he plays the sycophant to all the legitimate crowned heads +in Europe, whatever their crimes, vices, or miserable imbecilities, +he, in his abhorrence of everything low which by its own vigour makes +itself illustrious, calls Murat of the sabre the son of a pastry-cook, +of a Marseilleise pastry-cook. It is a pity that people who give +themselves hoity-toity airs - and the Scotch in general are wonderfully +addicted to giving themselves hoity-toity airs, and checking people +better than themselves with their birth <a name="citation6"></a><a href="#footnote6">{6}</a> +and their country - it is a great pity that such people do not look +at home-son of a pastry-cook, of a Marseilleise pastry-cook! Well, +and what was Scott himself? Why, son of a pettifogger, of an Edinburgh +pettifogger. “Oh, but Scott was descended from the old cow-stealers +of Buccleuch, and therefore - ” descended from old cow-stealers, +was he? Well, had he nothing to boast of beyond such a pedigree, +he would have lived and died the son of a pettifogger, and been forgotten, +and deservedly so; but he possessed talents, and by his talents rose +like Murat, and like him will be remembered for his talents alone, and +deservedly so. “Yes, but Murat was still the son of a pastry-cook, +and though he was certainly good at the sabre, and cut his way to a +throne, still - ” Lord! what fools there are in the world; +but as no one can be thought anything of in this world without a pedigree, +the writer will now give a pedigree for Murat, of a very different character +from the cow-stealing one of Scott, but such a one as the proudest he +might not disdain to claim. Scott was descended from the old cow-stealers +of Buccleuch - was he? Good! and Murat was descended from the +old Moors of Spain, from the Abencerages (sons of the saddle) of Granada. +The name Murat is Arabic, and is the same as Murad (Le Desiré, +or the wished-for one). Scott in his genteel Life of Bonaparte, +says that “when Murat was in Egypt, the similarity between the +name of the celebrated Mameluke Mourad and that of Bonaparte’s +Meilleur Sabreur was remarked, and became the subject of jest amongst +the comrades of the gallant Frenchman.” But the writer of +the novel of Bonaparte did not know that the names were one and the +same. Now which was the best pedigree, that of the son of the +pastry-cook, or that of the son of the pettifogger? Which was +the best blood? Let us observe the workings of the two bloods. +He who had the blood of the “sons of the saddle” in him, +became the wonderful cavalier of the most wonderful host that ever went +forth to conquest, won for himself a crown, and died the death of a +soldier, leaving behind him a son, only inferior to himself in strength, +in prowess, and in horsemanship. The descendant of the cow-stealer +became a poet, a novel writer, the panegyrist of great folk and genteel +people; became insolvent because, though an author, he deemed it ungenteel +to be mixed up with the business part of the authorship; died paralytic +and broken-hearted because he could no longer give entertainments to +great folks, leaving behind him, amongst other children, who were never +heard of, a son, who, through his father’s interest, had become +lieutenant-colonel in a genteel cavalry regiment. A son who was +ashamed of his father because his father was an author; a son who - +paugh - why ask which was the best blood?<br> +<br> +So, owing to his rage for gentility, Scott must needs become the apologist +of the Stuarts and their party; but God made this man pay dearly for +taking the part of the wicked against the good; for lauding up to the +skies the miscreants and robbers, and calumniating the noble spirits +of Britain, the salt of England, and his own country. As God had +driven the Stuarts from their throne, and their followers from their +estates, making them vagabonds and beggars on the face of the earth, +taking from them all that they cared for, so did that same God, who +knows perfectly well how and where to strike, deprive the apologist +of that wretched crew of all that rendered life pleasant in his eyes, +the lack of which paralysed him in body and mind, rendered him pitiable +to others, loathsome to himself, - so much so, that he once said, “Where +is the beggar who would change places with me, notwithstanding all my +fame?” Ah! God knows perfectly well how to strike. +He permitted him to retain all his literary fame to the very last - +his literary fame for which he cared nothing; but what became of the +sweetness of life, his fine house, his grand company, and his entertainments? +The grand house ceased to be his; he was only permitted to live in it +on sufferance, and whatever grandeur it might still retain, it soon +became as desolate a looking house as any misanthrope could wish to +see - where were the grand entertainments and the grand company? there +are no grand entertainments where there is no money; no lords and ladies +where there are no entertainments - and there lay the poor lodger in +the desolate house, groaning on a bed no longer his, smitten by the +hand of God in the part where he was most vulnerable. Of what +use telling such a man to take comfort, for he had written the “Minstrel” +and “Rob Roy,” - telling him to think of his literary fame? +Literary fame, indeed! he wanted back his lost gentility:-<br> +<br> +<br> +“Retain my altar,<br> +I care nothing for it - but, oh! touch not my <i>beard</i>.”<br> +PORNY’S <i>War of the Gods.<br> +<br> +<br> +</i>He dies, his children die too, and then comes the crowning judgment +of God on what remains of his race and the house which he had built. +He was not a Papist himself, nor did he wish any one belonging to him +to be Popish, for he had read enough of the Bible to know that no one +can be saved through Popery, yet had he a sneaking affection for it, +and would at times in an underhand manner, give it a good word both +in writing and discourse, because it was a gaudy kind of worship, and +ignorance and vassalage prevailed so long as it flourished - but he +certainly did not wish any of his people to become Papists, nor the +house which he had built to become a Popish house, though the very name +he gave it savoured of Popery; but Popery becomes fashionable through +his novels and poems - the only one that remains of his race, a female +grandchild, marries a person who, following the fashion, becomes a Papist, +and makes her a Papist too. Money abounds with the husband, who +buys the house, and then the house becomes the rankest Popish house +in Britain. A superstitious person might almost imagine that one +of the old Scottish Covenanters, whilst the grand house was being built +from the profits resulting from the sale of writings favouring Popery +and persecution, and calumniatory of Scotland’s saints and martyrs, +had risen from the grave, and banned Scott, his race, and his house, +by reading a certain psalm.<br> +<br> +In saying what he has said about Scott, the author has not been influenced +by any feeling of malice or ill-will, but simply by a regard for truth, +and a desire to point out to his countrymen the harm which has resulted +from the perusal of his works; - he is not one of those who would depreciate +the talents of Scott - he admires his talents, both as a prose writer +and a poet; as a poet especially he admires him, and believes him to +have been by far the greatest, with perhaps the exception of Mickiewicz, +who only wrote for unfortunate Poland, that Europe has given birth to +during the last hundred years. As a prose writer he admires him, +less, it is true, but his admiration for him in that capacity is very +high, and he only laments that he prostituted his talents to the cause +of the Stuarts and gentility. What book of fiction of the present +century can you read twice, with the exception of “Waverley” +and “Rob Roy?” There is “Pelham,” it is +true, which the writer of these lines has seen a Jewess reading in the +steppe of Debreczin, and which a young Prussian Baron, a great traveller, +whom he met at Constantinople in ‘44 told him he always carried +in his valise. And, in conclusion, he will say, in order to show +the opinion which he entertains of the power of Scott as a writer, that +he did for the sceptre of the wretched Pretender what all the kings +of Europe could not do for his body - placed it on the throne of these +realms; and for Popery, what Popes and Cardinals strove in vain to do +for three centuries - brought back its mummeries and nonsense into the +temples of the British Isles.<br> +<br> +Scott during his lifetime had a crowd of imitators, who, whether they +wrote history so called - poetry so called - or novels - nobody would +call a book a novel if he could call it anything else - wrote Charlie +o’er the water nonsense; and now that he has been dead nearly +a quarter of a century, there are others daily springing up who are +striving to imitate Scott in his Charlie o’er the water nonsense +- for nonsense it is, even when flowing from his pen. They, too, +must write Jacobite histories, Jacobite songs, and Jacobite novels, +and much the same figure as the scoundrel menials in the comedy cut +when personating their masters, and retailing their masters’ conversation, +do they cut as Walter Scotts. In their histories, they too talk +about the Prince and Glenfinnan, and the pibroch; and in their songs +about “Claverse” and “Bonny Dundee.” But +though they may be Scots, they are not Walter Scotts. But it is +perhaps chiefly in the novel that you see the veritable hog in armour; +the time of the novel is of course the ‘15 or ‘45; the hero +a Jacobite, and connected with one or other of the enterprises of those +periods; and the author, to show how unprejudiced he is, and what <i>original</i> +views he takes of subjects, must needs speak up for Popery, whenever +he has occasion to mention it; though, with all his originality, when +he brings his hero and the vagabonds with which he is concerned before +a barricadoed house, belonging to the Whigs, he can make them get into +it by no other method than that which Scott makes his rioters employ +to get into the Tolbooth, <i>burning</i> <i>down</i> the door.<br> +<br> +To express the more than utter foolishness of this latter Charlie o’er +the water nonsense, whether in rhyme or prose, there is but one word, +and that word a Scotch word. Scotch, the sorriest of jargons, +compared with which even Roth Welsch is dignified and expressive, has +yet one word to express what would be inexpressible by any word or combination +of words in any language, or in any other jargon in the world; and very +properly; for as the nonsense is properly Scotch, so should the word +be Scotch which expresses it - that word is “fushionless,” +pronounced <i>fooshionless</i>; and when the writer has called the nonsense +fooshionless - and he does call it fooshionless - he has nothing more +to say, but leaves the nonsense to its fate.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER VIII<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +On Canting Nonsense.<br> +<br> +<br> +The writer now wishes to say something on the subject of canting nonsense, +of which there is a great deal in England. There are various cants +in England, amongst which is the religious cant. He is not going +to discuss the subject of religious cant: lest, however, he should be +misunderstood, he begs leave to repeat that he is a sincere member of +the Church of England, in which he believes there is more religion, +and consequently less cant, than in any other church in the world; nor +is he going to discuss many other cants; he shall content himself with +saying something about two - the temperance cant and the unmanly cant. +Temperance canters say that “it is unlawful to drink a glass of +ale.” Unmanly canters say that “it is unlawful to +use one’s fists.” The writer begs leave to tell both +these species of canters that they do not speak words of truth.<br> +<br> +It is very lawful to take a cup of ale, or wine, for the purpose of +cheering or invigorating yourself when you are faint and down-hearted; +and likewise to give a cup of ale or wine to others when they are in +a similar condition. The Holy Scripture sayeth nothing to the +contrary, but rather encourageth people in so doing by the text, “Wine +maketh glad the heart of man.” But it is not lawful to intoxicate +yourself with frequent cups of ale or wine, nor to make others intoxicated, +nor does the Holy Scripture say it is. The Holy Scripture no more +says that it is lawful to intoxicate yourself or others, than it says +that it is unlawful to take a cup of ale or wine yourself, or to give +one to others. Noah is not commended in the Scripture for making +himself drunken on the wine he brewed. Nor is it said that the +Saviour, when he supplied the guests with first-rate wine at the marriage-feast, +told them to make themselves drunk upon it. He is said to have +supplied them with first-rate wine, but He doubtless left the quantity +which each should drink to each party’s reason and discretion. +When you set a good dinner before your guests, you do not expect that +they should gorge themselves with the victuals you set before them. +Wine may be abused, and so may a leg of mutton.<br> +<br> +Second. It is lawful for any one to use his fists in his own defence, +or in the defence of others, provided they can’t help themselves; +but it is not lawful to use them for purposes of tyranny or brutality. +If you are attacked by a ruffian, as the elderly individual in Lavengro +is in the inn-yard, it is quite lawful, if you can, to give him as good +a thrashing as the elderly individual gave the brutal coachman; and +if you see a helpless woman - perhaps your own sister - set upon by +a drunken lord, a drunken coachman, or a drunken coalheaver, or a brute +of any description, either drunk or sober, it is not only lawful but +laudable, to give them, if you can, a good drubbing; but it is not lawful +because you have a strong pair of fists, and know how to use them, to +go swaggering through a fair, jostling against unoffending individuals; +should you do so, you would be served quite right if you were to get +a drubbing, more particularly if you were served out by some one less +strong, but more skilful than yourself - even as the coachman was served +out by a pupil of the immortal Broughton - sixty years old, it is true, +but possessed of Broughton’s guard and chop. Moses is not +blamed in the Scripture for taking part with the oppressed, and killing +an Egyptian persecutor. We are not told how Moses killed the Egyptian; +but it is quite as creditable to Moses to suppose that he killed the +Egyptian by giving him a buffet under the left ear, as by stabbing him +with a knife. It is true that the Saviour in the New Testament +tells His disciples to turn the left cheek to be smitten, after they +had received a blow on the right; but He was speaking to people divinely +inspired, or whom He intended divinely to inspire - people selected +by God for a particular purpose. He likewise tells these people +to part with various articles of raiment when asked for them, and to +go a-travelling without money, and take no thought of the morrow. +Are those exhortations carried out by very good people in the present +day? Do Quakers, when smitten on the right cheek, turn the left +to the smiter? When asked for their coat, do they say, “Friend, +take my shirt also?” Has the Dean of Salisbury no purse? +Does the Archbishop of Canterbury go to an inn, run up a reckoning, +and then say to his landlady, “Mistress, I have no coin?” +Assuredly the Dean has a purse, and a tolerably well-filled one; and, +assuredly, the Archbishop, on departing from an inn, not only settles +his reckoning, but leaves something handsome for the servants, and does +not say that he is forbidden by the gospel to pay for what he has eaten, +or the trouble he has given, as a certain Spanish cavalier said he was +forbidden by the statutes of chivalry. Now, to take the part of +yourself, or the part of the oppressed, with your fists, is quite as +lawful in the present day as it is to refuse your coat and shirt also +to any vagabond who may ask for them, and not to refuse to pay for supper, +bed, and breakfast, at the Feathers, or any other inn, after you have +had the benefit of all three.<br> +<br> +The conduct of Lavengro with respect to drink may, upon the whole, serve +as a model. He is no drunkard, nor is he fond of intoxicating +other people; yet when the horrors are upon him he has no objection +to go to a public-house and call for a pint of ale, nor does he shrink +from recommending ale to others when they are faint and downcast. +In one instance, it is true, he does what cannot be exactly justified; +he encourages the Priest in the dingle, in more instances than one, +in drinking more hollands and water than is consistent with decorum. +He has a motive indeed in doing so; a desire to learn from the knave +in his cups the plans and hopes of the Propaganda of Rome. Such +conduct, however, was inconsistent with strict fair dealing and openness; +and the author advises all those whose consciences never reproach them +for a single unfair or covert act committed by them, to abuse him heartily +for administering hollands and water to the Priest of Rome. In +that instance the hero is certainly wrong; yet in all other cases with +regard to drink, he is manifestly right. To tell people that they +are never to drink a glass of ale or wine themselves, or to give one +to others, is cant; and the writer has no toleration for cant of any +description. Some cants are not dangerous; but the writer believes +that a more dangerous cant than the temperance cant, or as it is generally +called, teetotalism, is scarcely to be found. The writer is willing +to believe that it originated with well meaning, though weak people; +but there can be no doubt that it was quickly turned to account by people +who were neither well meaning nor weak. Let the reader note particularly +the purpose to which this cry has been turned in America; the land, +indeed, par excellence, of humbug and humbug cries. It is there +continually in the mouth of the most violent political party, and is +made an instrument of almost unexampled persecution. The writer +would say more on the temperance cant, both in England and America, +but want of space prevents him. There is one point on which he +cannot avoid making a few brief remarks - that is, the inconsistent +conduct of its apostles in general. The teetotal apostle says, +it is a dreadful thing to be drunk. So it is, teetotaller; but +if so, why do you get drunk? I get drunk? Yes, unhappy man, +why do you get drunk on smoke and passion? Why are your garments +impregnated with the odour of the Indian weed? Why is there a +pipe or a cigar always in your mouth? Why is your language more +dreadful than that of a Poissarde? Tobacco-smoke is more deleterious +than ale, teetotaller; bile more potent than brandy. You are fond +of telling your hearers what an awful thing it is to die drunken. +So it is, teetotaller. Then take good care that you do not die +with smoke and passion, drunken, and with temperance language on your +lips; that is, abuse and calumny against all those who differ from you. +One word of sense you have been heard to say, which is, that spirits +may be taken as a medicine. Now you are in a fever of passion, +teetotaller; so, pray take this tumbler of brandy; take it on the homoeopathic +principle, that heat is to be expelled by heat. You are in a temperance +fury, so swallow the contents of this tumbler, and it will, perhaps, +cure you. You look at the glass wistfully - you occasionally take +a glass medicinally - and it is probable you do. Take one now. +Consider what a dreadful thing it would be to die passion drunk; to +appear before your Maker with intemperate language on your lips. +That’s right! You don’t seem to wince at the brandy. +That’s right! - well done! All down in two pulls. +Now you look like a reasonable being!<br> +<br> +If the conduct of Lavengro with retard to drink is open to little censure, +assuredly the use which he makes of his fists is entitled to none at +all. Because he has a pair of tolerably strong fists, and knows +to a certain extent how to use them, is he a swaggerer or oppressor? +To what ill account does he turn them? Who more quiet, gentle, +and inoffensive than he? He beats off a ruffian who attacks him +in a dingle; has a kind of friendly tuzzle with Mr. Petulengro, and +behold the extent of his fistic exploits.<br> +<br> +Ay, but he associates with prize-fighters; and that very fellow, Petulengro, +is a prize-fighter, and has fought for a stake in a ring. Well, +and if he had not associated with prize-fighters, how could he have +used his fists? Oh, anybody can use his fists in his own defence, +without being taught by prize-fighters. Can they? Then why +does not the Italian, or Spaniard, or Affghan use his fists when insulted +or outraged, instead of having recourse to the weapons which he has +recourse to? Nobody can use his fists without being taught the +use of them by those who have themselves been taught, no more than any +one can “whiffle” without being taught by a master of the +art. Now let any man of the present day try to whiffle. +Would not any one who wished to whiffle have to go to a master of the +art? Assuredly! but where would he find one at the present day? +The last of the whifflers hanged himself about a fortnight ago on a +bell-rope in a church steeple of “the old town,” from pure +grief that there was no further demand for the exhibition of his art, +there being no demand for whiffling since the discontinuation of Guildhall +banquets. Whiffling is lost. The old chap left his sword +behind him; let any one take up the old chap’s sword and try to +whiffle. Now much the same hand as he would make who should take +up the whiffler’s sword and try to whiffle, would he who should +try to use his fists who had never had the advantage of a master. +Let no one think that men use their fists naturally in their own disputes +- men have naturally recourse to any other thing to defend themselves +or to offend others; they fly to the stick, to the stone, to the murderous +and cowardly knife, or to abuse as cowardly as the knife, and occasionally +more murderous. Now which is best when you hate a person, or have +a pique against a person, to clench your fist and say “Come on,” +or to have recourse to the stone, the knife, - or murderous calumny? +The use of the fist is almost lost in England. Yet are the people +better than they were when they knew how to use their fists? The +writer believes not. A fisty combat is at present a great rarity, +but the use of the knife, the noose, and of poison, to say nothing of +calumny, are of more frequent occurrence in England than perhaps in +any country in Europe. Is polite taste better than when it could +bear the details of a fight? The writer believes not. Two +men cannot meet in a ring to settle a dispute in a manly manner without +some trumpery local newspaper letting loose a volley of abuse against +“the disgraceful exhibition,” in which abuse it is sure +to be sanctioned by its dainty readers; whereas some murderous horror, +the discovery for example of the mangled remains of a woman in some +obscure den, is greedily seized hold of by the moral journal, and dressed +up for its readers, who luxuriate and gloat upon the ghastly dish. +Now, the writer of Lavengro has no sympathy with those who would shrink +from striking a blow, but would not shrink from the use of poison or +calumny; and his taste has little in common with that which cannot tolerate +the hardy details of a prize-fight, but which luxuriates on descriptions +of the murder dens of modern England. But prize-fighters and pugilists +are blackguards, a reviewer has said; and blackguards they would be +provided they employed their skill and their prowess for purposes of +brutality and oppression; but prize-fighters and pugilists are seldom +friends to brutality and oppression; and which is the blackguard, the +writer would ask, he who uses his fists to take his own part, or instructs +others to use theirs for the same purpose, or the being who from envy +and malice, or at the bidding of a malicious scoundrel, endeavours by +calumny, falsehood, and misrepresentation to impede the efforts of lonely +and unprotected genius?<br> +<br> +One word more about the race, all but extinct, of the people opprobriously +called prize-fighters. Some of them have been as noble, kindly +men as the world ever produced. Can the rolls of the English aristocracy +exhibit names belonging to more noble, more heroic men than those who +were called respectively Pearce, Cribb, and Spring? Did ever one +of the English aristocracy contract the seeds of fatal consumption by +rushing up the stairs of a burning edifice, even to the topmost garret, +and rescuing a woman from seemingly inevitable destruction? The +writer says no. A woman was rescued from the top of a burning +house; but the man who rescued her was no aristocrat; it was Pearce, +not Percy, who ran up the burning stairs. Did ever one of those +glittering ones save a fainting female from the libidinous rage of six +ruffians? The writer believes not. A woman was rescued from +the libidinous fury of six monsters on - Down; but the man who rescued +her was no aristocrat; it was Pearce not Paulet, who rescued the woman, +and thrashed my lord’s six gamekeepers - Pearce, whose equal never +was, and probably never will be, found in sturdy combat. Are there +any of the aristocracy of whom it can be said that they never did a +cowardly, cruel, or mean action, and that they invariably took the part +of the unfortunate and weak against cruelty and oppression? As +much can be said of Cribb, of Spring, and the other; but where is the +aristocrat of whom as much can be said? Wellington? Wellington +indeed! a skilful general, and a good man of valour, it is true, but +with that cant word of “duty” continually on his lips, did +he rescue Ney from his butchers? Did he lend a helping hand to +Warner?<br> +<br> +In conclusion, the writer would advise those of his country-folks who +read his book to have nothing to do with the two kinds of canting nonsense +described above, but in their progress through life to enjoy as well +as they can, but always with moderation, the good things of this world, +to put confidence in God, to be as independent as possible, and to take +their own parts. If they are low-spirited, let them not make themselves +foolish by putting on sackcloth, drinking water, or chewing ashes, but +let them take wholesome exercise, and eat the most generous food they +can get, taking up and reading occasionally, not the lives of Ignatius +Loyola and Francis Spira, but something more agreeable; for example, +the life and adventures of Mr. Duncan Campbell, the deaf and dumb gentleman; +the travels of Captain Falconer in America, and the journal of John +Randall, who went to Virginia and married an Indian wife; not forgetting, +amidst their eating and drinking, their walks over heaths, and by the +sea-side, and their agreeable literature, to be charitable to the poor, +to read the Psalms and to go to church twice on a Sunday. In their +dealings with people, to be courteous to everybody, as Lavengro was, +but always independent like him; and if people meddle with them, to +give them as good as they bring, even as he and Isopel Berners were +in the habit of doing; and it will be as well for him to observe that +he by no means advises women to be too womanly, but bearing the conduct +of Isopel Berners in mind, to take their own parts, and if anybody strikes +them, to strike again.<br> +<br> +Beating of women by the lords of the creation has become very prevalent +in England since pugilism has been discountenanced. Now the writer +strongly advises any woman who is struck by a ruffian to strike him +again; or if she cannot clench her fists, and he advises all women in +these singular times to learn to clench their fists, to go at him with +tooth and nail, and not to be afraid of the result, for any fellow who +is dastard enough to strike a woman, would allow himself to be beaten +by a woman, were she to make at him in self-defence, even if, instead +of possessing the stately height and athletic proportions of the aforesaid +Isopel, she were as diminutive in stature, and had a hand as delicate, +and foot as small, as a certain royal lady, who was some time ago assaulted +by a fellow upwards of six feet high, whom the writer has no doubt she +could have beaten had she thought proper to go at him. Such is +the deliberate advice of the author to his countrymen and women - advice +in which he believes there is nothing unscriptural or repugnant to common +sense.<br> +<br> +The writer is perfectly well aware that, by the plain language which +he has used in speaking of the various kinds of nonsense prevalent in +England, he shall make himself a multitude of enemies; but he is not +going to conceal the truth or to tamper with nonsense, from the fear +of provoking hostility. He has a duty to perform and he will perform +it resolutely; he is the person who carried the Bible to Spain; and +as resolutely as he spoke in Spain against the superstitions of Spain, +will he speak in England against the nonsense of his own native land. +He is not one of those who, before they sit down to write a book, say +to themselves, what cry shall we take up? what principles shall we advocate? +what principles shall we abuse? before we put pen to paper we must find +out what cry is the loudest, what principle has the most advocates, +otherwise, after having written our book, we may find ourselves on the +weaker side.<br> +<br> +A sailor of the “Bounty,” waked from his sleep by the noise +of the mutiny, lay still in his hammock for some time, quite undecided +whether to take part with the captain or to join the mutineers. +“I must mind what I do,” said he to himself, “lest, +in the end, I find myself on the weaker side;” finally, on hearing +that the mutineers were successful, he went on deck, and seeing Bligh +pinioned to the mast, he put his fist to his nose, and otherwise insulted +him. Now, there are many writers of the present day whose conduct +is very similar to that of the sailor. They lie listening in their +corners till they have ascertained which principle has most advocates; +then, presently, they make their appearance on the deck of the world +with their book; if truth has been victorious, then has truth the hurrah! +but if truth is pinioned against the mast, then is their fist thrust +against the nose of truth, and their gibe and their insult spirted in +her face. The strongest party had the sailor, and the strongest +party has almost invariably the writer of the present day.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER IX<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Pseudo-Critics.<br> +<br> +<br> +A certain set of individuals calling themselves critics have attacked +Lavengro with much virulence and malice. If what they call criticism +had been founded on truth, the author would have had nothing to say. +The book contains plenty of blemishes, some of them, by the bye, wilful +ones, as the writer will presently show; not one of these, however, +has been detected and pointed out; but the best passages in the book, +indeed whatever was calculated to make the book valuable, have been +assailed with abuse and misrepresentation. The duty of the true +critic is to play the part of a leech, and not of a viper. Upon +true and upon malignant criticism there is an excellent fable by the +Spaniard Iriarte. The viper says to the leech, “Why do people +invite your bite, and flee from mine?” “Because,” +says the leech, “people receive health from my bite, and poison +from yours.” “There is as much difference,” +says the clever Spaniard, “between true and malignant criticism, +as between poison and medicine.” Certainly a great many +meritorious writers have allowed themselves to be poisoned by malignant +criticism; the writer, however, is not one of those who allow themselves +to be poisoned by pseudo-critics; no! no! he will rather hold them up +by their tails, and show the creatures wriggling, blood and foam streaming +from their broken jaws. First of all, however, he will notice +one of their objections. “The book isn’t true,” +say they. Now one of the principal reasons with those that have +attacked Lavengro for their abuse of it is, that it is particularly +true in one instance, namely, that it exposes their own nonsense, their +love of humbug, their slavishness, their dressings, their goings out, +their scraping and bowing to great people; it is the showing up of “gentility-nonsense” +in Lavengro that has been one principal reason for raising the above +cry; for in Lavengro is denounced the besetting folly of the English +people, a folly which those who call themselves guardians of the public +taste are far from being above. “We can’t abide anything +that isn’t true!” they exclaim. Can’t they? +Then why are they so enraptured with any fiction that is adapted to +purposes of humbug, which tends to make them satisfied with their own +proceedings, with their own nonsense, which does not tell them to reform, +to become more alive to their own failings, and less sensitive about +the tyrannical goings on of the masters, and the degraded condition, +the sufferings, and the trials of the serfs in the star Jupiter? +Had Lavengro, instead of being the work of an independent mind, been +written in order to further any of the thousand and one cants, and species +of nonsense prevalent in England, the author would have heard much less +about its not being true, both from public detractors and private censurers.<br> +<br> +“But Lavengro pretends to be an autobiography,” say the +critics; and here the writer begs leave to observe, that it would be +well for people who profess to have a regard for truth, not to exhibit +in every assertion which they make a most profligate disregard of it; +this assertion of theirs is a falsehood, and they know it to be a falsehood. +In the preface Lavengro is stated to be a dream; and the writer takes +this opportunity of stating that he never said it was an autobiography; +never authorized any person to say that it was one; and that he has +in innumerable instances declared in public and private, both before +and after the work was published, that it was not what is generally +termed an autobiography: but a set of people who pretend to write criticisms +on books, hating the author for various reasons, - amongst others, because, +having the proper pride of a gentleman and a scholar, he did not, in +the year ‘43, choose to permit himself to be exhibited and made +a zany of in London, and especially because he will neither associate +with, nor curry favour with, them who are neither gentlemen nor scholars, +- attack his book with abuse and calumny. He is, perhaps, condescending +too much when he takes any notice of such people; as, however, the English +public is wonderfully led by cries and shouts, and generally ready to +take part against any person who is either unwilling or unable to defend +himself, he deems it advisable not to be altogether quiet with those +who assail him. The best way to deal with vipers is to tear out +their teeth; and the best way to deal with pseudo-critics is to deprive +them of their poison-bag, which is easily done by exposing their ignorance. +The writer knew perfectly well the description of people with whom he +would have to do, he therefore very quietly prepared a stratagem, by +means of which he could at any time exhibit them, powerless and helpless, +in his hand. Critics, when they review books, ought to have a +competent knowledge of the subjects which those books discuss.<br> +<br> +Lavengro is a philological book, a poem if you choose to call it so. +Now, what a fine triumph it would have been for those who wished to +vilify the book and its author, provided they could have detected the +latter tripping in his philology - they might have instantly said that +he was an ignorant pretender to philology - they laughed at the idea +of his taking up a viper by its tail, a trick which hundreds of country +urchins do every September, but they were silent about the really wonderful +part of the book, the philological matter - they thought philology was +his stronghold, and that it would be useless to attack him there; they +of course would give him no credit as a philologist, for anything like +fair treatment towards him was not to be expected at their hands, but +they were afraid to attack his philology - yet that was the point, and +the only point in which they might have attacked him successfully; he +was vulnerable there. How was this? Why, in order to have +an opportunity of holding up pseudo-critics by the tails, he wilfully +spelt various foreign words wrong - Welsh words, and even Italian words +- did they detect these misspellings? not one of them, even as he knew +they would not, and he now taunts them with ignorance; and the power +of taunting them with ignorance is the punishment which he designed +for them - a power which they might but for their ignorance have used +against him. The writer besides knowing something of Italian and +Welsh, knows a little of Armenian language and literature; but who knowing +anything of the Armenian language, unless he had an end in view, would +say, that the word sea in Armenian is anything like the word tide in +English? The word for sea in Armenian is dzow, a word connected +with the Tebetian word for water, and the Chinese shuy, and the Turkish +su, signifying the same thing; but where is the resemblance between +dzow and tide? Again, the word for bread in ancient Armenian is +hats; yet the Armenian on London Bridge is made to say zhats, which +is not the nominative of the Armenian noun for bread, but the accusative: +now, critics, ravening against a man because he is a gentleman and a +scholar, and has not only the power but also the courage to write original +works, why did you not discover that weak point? Why, because +you were ignorant, so here ye are held up! Moreover, who with +a name commencing with Z, ever wrote fables in Armenian? There +are two writers of fables in Armenian - Varthan and Koscht, and illustrious +writers they are, one in the simple, and the other in the ornate style +of Armenian composition, but neither of their names begins with a Z. +Oh, what a precious opportunity ye lost, ye ravening crew, of convicting +the poor, half-starved, friendless boy of the book, of ignorance or +misrepresentation, by asking who with a name beginning with Z ever wrote +fables in Armenian; but ye couldn’t help yourselves, ye are duncie. +We duncie! Ay, duncie. So here ye are held up by the tails, +blood and foam streaming from your jaws.<br> +<br> +The writer wishes to ask here, what do you think of all this, Messieurs +les Critiques? Were ye ever served so before? But don’t +you richly deserve it? Haven’t you been for years past bullying +and insulting everybody whom you deemed weak, and currying favour with +everybody whom you thought strong? “We approve of this. +We disapprove of that. Oh, this will never do. These are +fine lines!” The lines perhaps some horrid sycophantic rubbish +addressed to Wellington, or Lord So-and-so. To have your ignorance +thus exposed, to be shown up in this manner, and by whom? A gypsy! +Ay, a gypsy was the very right person to do it. But is it not +galling, after all?<br> +<br> +“Ah, but <i>we</i> don’t understand Armenian, it cannot +be expected that <i>we</i> should understand Armenian, or Welsh, or +- Hey, what’s this? The mighty <i>we</i> not understand +Armenian or Welsh, or - Then why does the mighty <i>we</i> pretend to +review a book like Lavengro? From the arrogance with which it +continually delivers itself, one would think that the mighty <i>we</i> +is omniscient; that it understands every language; is versed in every +literature; yet the mighty <i>we</i> does not even know the word for +bread in Armenian. It knows bread well enough by name in England, +and frequently bread in England only by its name, but the truth is, +that the mighty <i>we</i>, with all its pretension, is in general a +very sorry creature, who, instead of saying nous disons, should rather +say nous dis: Porny in his “Guerre des Dieux,” very profanely +makes the three in one say, Je faisons; now, Lavengro, who is anything +but profane, would suggest that critics, especially magazine and Sunday +newspaper critics, should commence with nous dis, as the first word +would be significant of the conceit and assumption of the critic, and +the second of the extent of the critic’s information. The +<i>we</i> says its say, but when fawning sycophancy or vulgar abuse +are taken from that say, what remains? Why a blank, a void like +Ginnungagap.<br> +<br> +As the writer, of his own accord, has exposed some of the blemishes +of his book - a task, which a competent critic ought to have done - +he will now point out two or three of its merits, which any critic, +not altogether blinded with ignorance might have done, or not replete +with gall and envy would have been glad to do. The book has the +merit of communicating a fact connected with physiology, which in all +the pages of the multitude of books was never previously mentioned - +the mysterious practice of touching objects to baffle the evil chance. +The miserable detractor will, of course, instantly begin to rave about +such a habit being common: well and good; but was it ever before described +in print, or all connected with it dissected? He may then vociferate +something about Johnson having touched:- the writer cares not whether +Johnson, who, by the bye, during the last twenty or thirty years, owing +to people having become ultra Tory mad from reading Scott’s novels +and the “Quarterly Review,” has been a mighty favourite, +especially with some who were in the habit of calling him a half crazy +old fool - touched, or whether he did or not; but he asks where did +Johnson ever describe the feelings which induced him to perform the +magic touch, even supposing that he did perform it? Again, the +history gives an account of a certain book called the “Sleeping +Bard,” the most remarkable prose work of the most difficult language +but one, of modern Europe, - a book, for a notice of which, he believes, +one might turn over in vain the pages of any review printed in England, +or, indeed, elsewhere. - So here are two facts, one literary and the +other physiological, for which any candid critic was bound to thank +the author, even as in Romany Rye there is a fact connected with Iro +Norman Myth, for the disclosing of which, any person who pretends to +have a regard for literature is bound to thank him, namely, that the +mysterious Finn or Fingal of “Ossian’s Poems” is one +and the same person as the Sigurd Fofnisbane of the Edda and the Wilkina, +and the Siegfried Horn of the Lay of the Niebelungs.<br> +<br> +The writer might here conclude, and, he believes, most triumphantly; +as, however, he is in the cue for writing, which he seldom is, he will +for his own gratification, and for the sake of others, dropping metaphors +about vipers and serpents, show up in particular two or three sets or +cliques of people, who, he is happy to say, have been particularly virulent +against him and his work, for nothing indeed could have given him greater +mortification than their praise.<br> +<br> +In the first place, he wishes to dispose of certain individuals who +call themselves men of wit and fashion - about town - who he is told +have abused his book “vaustly” - their own word. These +people paint their cheeks, wear white kid gloves, and dabble in literature, +or what they conceive to be literature. For abuse from such people, +the writer was prepared. Does any one imagine that the writer +was not well aware, before he published his book, that, whenever he +gave it to the world, he should be attacked by every literary coxcomb +in England who had influence enough to procure the insertion of a scurrilous +article in a magazine or newspaper! He has been in Spain, and +has seen how invariably the mule attacks the horse; now why does the +mule attack the horse? Why, because the latter carries about with +him that which the envious hermaphrodite does not possess.<br> +<br> +They consider, forsooth, that his book is low - but he is not going +to waste words about them - one or two of whom, he is told, have written +very duncie books about Spain, and are highly enraged with him, because +certain books which he wrote about Spain were not considered duncie. +No, he is not going to waste words upon them, for verily he dislikes +their company, and so he’ll pass them by, and proceed to others.<br> +<br> +The Scotch Charlie o’er the water people have been very loud in +the abuse of Lavengro - this again might be expected; the sarcasms of +the Priest about the Charlie o’er the water nonsense of course +stung them. Oh! it is one of the claims which Lavengro has to +respect, that it is the first, if not the only work, in which that nonsense +is, to a certain extent, exposed. Two or three of their remarks +on passages of Lavengro, he will reproduce and laugh at. Of course +your Charlie o’er the water people are genteel exceedingly, and +cannot abide anything low. Gypsyism they think is particularly +low, and the use of gypsy words in literature beneath its gentility; +so they object to gypsy words being used in Lavengro where gypsies are +introduced speaking - “What is Romany forsooth?” say they. +Very good! And what is Scotch? has not the public been nauseated +with Scotch for the last thirty years? “Ay, but Scotch is +not” - the writer believes he knows much better than the Scotch +what Scotch is and what it is not; he has told them before what it is, +a very sorry jargon. He will now tell them what it is not - a +sister or an immediate daughter of the Sanscrit, which Romany is. +“Ay, but the Scotch are” - foxes, foxes, nothing else than +foxes, even like the gypsies - the difference between the gypsy and +Scotch fox being that the first is wild, with a mighty brush, the other +a sneak with a gilt collar and without a tail.<br> +<br> +A Charlie o’er the water person attempts to be witty, because +the writer has said that perhaps a certain old Edinburgh High-School +porter, of the name of Boee, was perhaps of the same blood as a certain +Bui, a Northern Kemp who distinguished himself at the battle of Horinger +Bay. A pretty matter, forsooth, to excite the ridicule of a Scotchman! +Why, is there a beggar or trumpery fellow in Scotland, who does not +pretend to be somebody, or related to somebody? Is not every Scotchman +descended from some king, kemp, or cow-stealer of old, by his own account +at least? Why, the writer would even go so far as to bet a trifle +that the poor creature, who ridicules Boee’s supposed ancestry, +has one of his own, at least as grand and as apocryphal as old Boee’s +of the High School.<br> +<br> +The same Charlie o’er the water person is mightily indignant that +Lavengro should have spoken disrespectfully of William Wallace; Lavengro, +when he speaks of that personage, being a child of about ten years old, +and repeating merely what he had heard. All the Scotch, by the +bye, for a great many years past, have been great admirers of William +Wallace, particularly the Charlie o’er the water people, who in +their nonsense-verses about Charlie generally contrive to bring in the +name of William, Willie, or Wullie Wallace. The writer begs leave +to say that he by no means wishes to bear hard against William Wallace, +but he cannot help asking why, if William, Willie, or Wullie Wallace +was such a particularly nice person, did his brother Scots betray him +to a certain renowned southern warrior, called Edward Longshanks, who +caused him to be hanged and cut into four in London, and his quarters +to be placed over the gates of certain towns? They got gold, it +is true, and titles, very nice things, no doubt; but, surely, the life +of a patriot is better than all the gold and titles in the world - at +least Lavengro thinks so - but Lavengro has lived more with gypsies +than Scotchmen, and gypsies do not betray their brothers. It would +be some time before a gypsy would hand over his brother to the harum-beck, +even supposing you would not only make him a king, but a justice of +the peace, and not only give him the world, but the best farm on the +Holkham estate; but gypsies are wild foxes, and there is certainly a +wonderful difference between the way of thinking of the wild fox who +retains his brush, and that of the scurvy kennel creature who has lost +his tail.<br> +<br> +Ah! but thousands of Scotch, and particularly the Charlie o’er +the water people, will say, “We didn’t sell Willie Wallace, +it was our forbears who sold Willie Wallace - If Edward Longshanks had +asked us to sell Wullie Wallace, we would soon have shown him that - +” Lord better ye, ye poor trumpery set of creatures, ye +would not have acted a bit better than your forefathers; remember how +ye have ever treated the few amongst ye who, though born in the kennel, +have shown something of the spirit of the wood. Many of ye are +still alive who delivered over men, quite as honest and patriotic as +William Wallace, into the hands of an English minister, to be chained +and transported for merely venturing to speak and write in the cause +of humanity, at the time when Europe was beginning to fling off the +chains imposed by kings and priests. And it is not so very long +since Burns, to whom ye are now building up obelisks rather higher than +he deserves, was permitted by his countrymen to die in poverty and misery, +because he would not join with them in songs of adulation to kings and +the trumpery great. So say not that ye would have acted with respect +to William Wallace one whit better than your fathers - and you in particular, +ye children of Charlie, whom do ye write nonsense-verses about? +A family of dastard despots, who did their best, during a century and +more, to tread out the few sparks of independent feeling still glowing +in Scotland - but enough has been said about ye.<br> +<br> +Amongst those who have been prodigal in abuse and defamation of Lavengro, +have been your modern Radicals, and particularly a set of people who +filled the country with noise against the King and Queen, Wellington, +and the Tories, in ‘32. About these people the writer will +presently have occasion to say a good deal, and also of real Radicals. +As, however, it may be supposed that he is one of those who delight +to play the sycophant to kings and queens, to curry favour with Tories, +and to bepraise Wellington, he begs leave to state that such is not +the case.<br> +<br> +About kings and queens he has nothing to say; about Tories, simply that +he believes them to be a bad set; about Wellington, however, it will +be necessary for him to say a good deal, of mixed import, as he will +subsequently frequently have occasion to mention him in connection with +what he has to say about pseudo-Radicals.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER X<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Pseudo-Radicals.<br> +<br> +<br> +About Wellington, then, he says, that he believes him at the present +day to be infinitely overrated. But there certainly was a time +when he was shamefully underrated. Now what time was that? +Why the time of pseudo-Radicalism, par excellence, from ‘20 to +‘32. Oh, the abuse that was heaped on Wellington by those +who traded in Radical cant - your newspaper editors and review writers! +and how he was sneered at then by your Whigs, and how faintly supported +he was by your Tories, who were half ashamed of him; for your Tories, +though capital fellows as followers, when you want nobody to back you, +are the faintest creatures in the world when you cry in your agony, +“Come and help me!” Oh, assuredly Wellington was infamously +used at that time, especially by your traders in Radicalism, who howled +at and hooted him; said he had every vice - was no general - was beaten +at Waterloo - was a poltroon - moreover a poor illiterate creature, +who could scarcely read or write; nay, a principal Radical paper said +boldly he could not read, and devised an ingenious plan for teaching +Wellington how to read. Now this was too bad; and the writer, +being a lover of justice, frequently spoke up for Wellington, saying, +that as for vice, he was not worse than his neighbours; that he was +brave; that he won the fight at Waterloo, from a half-dead man, it is +true, but that he did win it. Also, that he believed he had read +“Rules for the Manual and Platoon Exercises” to some purpose; +moreover, that he was sure he could write, for that he the writer had +once written to Wellington, and had received an answer from him; nay, +the writer once went so far as to strike a blow for Wellington; for +the last time he used his fists was upon a Radical sub-editor, who was +mobbing Wellington in the street, from behind a rank of grimy fellows; +but though the writer spoke up for Wellington to a certain extent, when +he was shamefully underrated, and once struck a blow for him when he +was about being hustled, he is not going to join in the loathsome sycophantic +nonsense which it has been the fashion to use with respect to Wellington +these last twenty years. Now what have those years been to England! +Why the years of ultra-gentility, everybody in England having gone gentility +mad during the last twenty years, and no people more so than your pseudo-Radicals. +Wellington was turned out, and your Whigs and Radicals got in, and then +commenced the period of ultra-gentility in England. The Whigs +and Radicals only hated Wellington as long as the patronage of the country +was in his hands, none of which they were tolerably sure he would bestow +on them; but no sooner did they get it into their own, than they forthwith +became admirers of Wellington. And why? Because he was a +duke, petted at Windsor and by foreign princes, and a very genteel personage. +Formerly many of your Whigs and Radicals had scarcely a decent coat +on their backs; but now the plunder of the country was at their disposal, +and they had as good a chance of being genteel as any people. +So they were willing to worship Wellington because he was very genteel, +and could not keep the plunder of the country out of their hands. +And Wellington has been worshipped, and prettily so, during the last +fifteen or twenty years. He is now a noble fine-hearted creature; +the greatest general the world ever produced; the bravest of men; and +- and - mercy upon us! the greatest of military writers! Now the +present writer will not join in such sycophancy. As he was not +afraid to take the part of Wellington when he was scurvily used by all +parties, and when it was dangerous to take his part, so he is not afraid +to speak the naked truth about Wellington in these days, when it is +dangerous to say anything about him but what is sycophantically laudatory. +He said in ‘32, that as to vice, Wellington was not worse than +his neighbours; but he is not going to say, in ‘54, that Wellington +was a noble-hearted fellow; for he believes that a more cold-hearted +individual never existed. His conduct to Warner, the poor Vaudois, +and Marshal Ney, showed that. He said, in ‘32, that he was +a good general and a brave man; but he is not going, in ‘54, to +say that he was the best general, or the bravest man the world ever +saw. England has produced a better general - France two or three +- both countries many braver men. The son of the Norfolk clergyman +was a brave man; Marshal Ney was a braver man. Oh, that battle +of Copenhagen! Oh, that covering the retreat of the Grand Army! +And though he said in ‘32 that he could write, he is not going +to say in ‘54 that he is the best of all military writers. +On the contrary, he does not hesitate to say that any Commentary of +Julius Caesar, or any chapter in Justinus, more especially the one about +the Parthians, is worth the ten volumes of Wellington’s Despatches; +though he has no doubt that, by saying so, he shall especially rouse +the indignation of a certain newspaper, at present one of the most genteel +journals imaginable - with a slight tendency to Liberalism, it is true, +but perfectly genteel - which is nevertheless the very one which, in +‘32, swore bodily that Wellington could neither read nor write, +and devised an ingenious plan for teaching him how to read.<br> +<br> +Now, after the above statement, no one will venture to say, if the writer +should be disposed to bear hard upon Radicals, that he would be influenced +by a desire to pay court to princes, or to curry favour with Tories, +or from being a blind admirer of the Duke of Wellington; but the writer +is not going to declaim against Radicals, that is, real Republicans, +or their principles; upon the whole, he is something of an admirer of +both. The writer has always had as much admiration for everything +that is real and honest as he has had contempt for the opposite. +Now real Republicanism is certainly a very fine thing, a much finer +thing than Toryism, a system of common robbery, which is nevertheless +far better than Whiggism <a name="citation7"></a><a href="#footnote7">{7}</a> +- a compound of petty larceny, popular instruction, and receiving of +stolen goods. Yes, real Republicanism is certainly a very fine +thing, and your real Radicals and Republicans are certainly very fine +fellows, or rather were fine fellows, for the Lord only knows where +to find them at the present day - the writer does not. If he did, +he would at any time go five miles to invite one of them to dinner, +even supposing that he had to go to a workhouse in order to find the +person he wished to invite. Amongst the real Radicals of England, +those who flourished from the year ‘16 to ‘20, there were +certainly extraordinary characters, men partially insane, perhaps, but +honest and brave - they did not make a market of the principles which +they professed, and never intended to do so; they believed in them, +and were willing to risk their lives in endeavouring to carry them out. +The writer wishes to speak in particular of two of these men, both of +whom perished on the scaffold - their names were Thistlewood and Ings. +Thistlewood, the best known of them, was a brave soldier, and had served +with distinction as an officer in the French service; he was one of +the excellent swordsmen of Europe; had fought several duels in France, +where it is no child’s play to fight a duel; but had never unsheathed +his sword for single combat, but in defence of the feeble and insulted +- he was kind and open-hearted, but of too great simplicity; he had +once ten thousand pounds left him, all of which he lent to a friend, +who disappeared and never returned a penny. Ings was an uneducated +man, of very low stature, but amazing strength and resolution; he was +a kind husband and father, and though a humble butcher, the name he +bore was one of the royal names of the heathen Anglo-Saxons. These +two men, along with five others, were executed, and their heads hacked +off, for levying war against George the Fourth; the whole seven dying +in a manner which extorted cheers from the populace; the most of then +uttering philosophical or patriotic sayings. Thistlewood, who +was, perhaps, the most calm and collected of all, just before he was +turned off, said, “We are now going to discover the great secret.” +Ings, the moment before he was choked, was singing “Scots wha +ha’ wi’ Wallace bled.” Now there was no humbug +about those men, nor about many more of the same time and of the same +principles. They might be deluded about Republicanism, as Algernon +Sidney was, and as Brutus was, but they were as honest and brave as +either Brutus or Sidney; and as willing to die for their principles. +But the Radicals who succeeded them were beings of a very different +description; they jobbed and traded in Republicanism, and either parted +with it, or at the present day are eager to part with it for a consideration. +In order to get the Whigs into power, and themselves places, they brought +the country by their inflammatory language to the verge of a revolution, +and were the cause that many perished on the scaffold; by their incendiary +harangues and newspaper articles they caused the Bristol conflagration, +for which six poor creatures were executed; they encouraged the mob +to pillage, pull down and burn, and then rushing into garrets looked +on. Thistlewood tells the mob the Tower is a second Bastile; let +it be pulled down. A mob tries to pull down the Tower; but Thistlewood +is at the head of that mob; he is not peeping from a garret on Tower +Hill like Gulliver at Lisbon. Thistlewood and Ings say to twenty +ragged individuals, Liverpool and Castlereagh are two satellites of +despotism; it would be highly desirable to put them out of the way. +And a certain number of ragged individuals are surprised in a stable +in Cato Street, making preparations to put Castlereagh and Liverpool +out of the way, and are fired upon with muskets by Grenadiers, and are +hacked at with cutlasses by Bow Street runners; but the twain who encouraged +those ragged individuals to meet in Cato Street are not far off, they +are not on the other side of the river, in the Borough, for example, +in some garret or obscure cellar. The very first to confront the +Guards and runners are Thistlewood and Ings; Thistlewood whips his long +thin rapier through Smithers’ lungs, and Ings makes a dash at +Fitzclarence with his butcher’s knife. Oh, there was something +in those fellows! honesty and courage - but can as much be said for +the inciters of the troubles of ‘32? No; they egged on poor +ignorant mechanics and rustics, and got them hanged for pulling down +and burning, whilst the highest pitch to which their own daring ever +mounted was to mob Wellington as he passed in the streets.<br> +<br> +Now, these people were humbugs, which Thistlewood and Ings were not. +They raved and foamed against kings, queens, Wellington, the aristocracy, +and what not, till they had got the Whigs into power, with whom they +were in secret alliance, and with whom they afterwards openly joined +in a system of robbery and corruption, more flagitious than the old +Tory one, because there was more cant about it; for themselves they +got consulships, commissionerships, and in some instances governments; +for their sons clerkships in public offices; and there you may see those +sons with the never-failing badge of the low scoundrel-puppy, the gilt +chain at the waistcoat pocket; and there you may hear and see them using +the languishing tones, and employing the airs and graces which wenches +use and employ, who, without being in the family way, wish to make their +keepers believe that they are in the family way. Assuredly great +is the cleverness of your Radicals of ‘32, in providing for themselves +and their families. Yet, clever as they are, there is one thing +they cannot do - they get governments for themselves, commissionerships +for their brothers, clerkships for their sons, but there is one thing +beyond their craft - they cannot get husbands for their daughters, who, +too ugly for marriage, and with their heads filled with the nonsense +they have imbibed from gentility-novels, go over from Socinus to the +Pope, becoming sisters in fusty convents, or having heard a few sermons +in Mr. Platitude’s “chapelle,” seek for admission +at the establishment of mother S---, who, after employing them for a +time in various menial offices, and making them pluck off their eyebrows +hair by hair, generally dismisses them on the plea of sluttishness; +whereupon they return to their papas to eat the bread of the country, +with the comfortable prospect of eating it still in the shape of a pension +after their sires are dead. Papa (ex uno disce omnes) living as +quietly as he can; not exactly enviably, it is true, being now and then +seen to cast an uneasy and furtive glance behind, even as an animal +is wont, who has lost by some mischance a very slight appendage; as +quietly however as he can, and as dignifiedly, a great admirer of every +genteel thing and genteel personage, the Duke in particular, whose “Despatches,” +bound in red morocco, you will find on his table. A disliker of +coarse expressions, and extremes of every kind, with a perfect horror +for revolutions and attempts to revolutionize, exclaiming now and then, +as a shriek escapes from whipped and bleeding Hungary, a groan from +gasping Poland, and a half-stifled curse from down-trodden but scowling +Italy, “Confound the revolutionary canaille, why can’t it +be quiet!” in a word, putting one in mind of the parvenu in the +“Walpurgis Nacht.” The writer is no admirer of Göthe, +but the idea of that parvenu was certainly a good one. Yes, putting +one in mind of the individual who says -<br> +<br> +<br> +“Wir waren wahrlich auch nicht dumm,<br> +Und thaten oft was wir nicht sollten;<br> +Doch jetzo kehrt sich alles um und um,<br> +Und eben da wir’s fest erhalten wollten.”<br> +<br> +We were no fools, as every one discern’d,<br> +And stopp’d at nought our projects in fulfilling;<br> +But now the world seems topsy-turvy turn’d,<br> +To keep it quiet just when we were willing.<br> +<br> +<br> +Now, this class of individuals entertain a mortal hatred for Lavengro +and its writer, and never lose an opportunity of vituperating both. +It is true that such hatred is by no means surprising. There is +certainly a great deal of difference between Lavengro and their own +sons; the one thinking of independence and philology, whilst he is clinking +away at kettles, and hammering horse-shoes in dingles; the others stuck +up at public offices with gilt chains at their waistcoat-pockets, and +giving themselves the airs and graces of females of a certain description. +And there certainly is a great deal of difference between the author +of Lavengro and themselves - he retaining his principles and his brush; +they with scarlet breeches on, it is true, but without their Republicanism, +and their tails. Oh, the writer can well afford to be vituperated +by your pseudo-Radicals of ‘32!<br> +<br> +Some time ago the writer was set upon by an old Radical and his wife; +but the matter is too rich not to require a chapter to itself.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XI<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The Old Radical.<br> +<br> +<br> +“This very dirty man, with his very dirty face,<br> +Would do any dirty act, which would get him a place.”<br> +<br> +<br> +Some time ago the writer was set upon by an old Radical and his wife; +but before he relates the manner in which they set upon him, it will +be as well to enter upon a few particulars tending to elucidate their +reasons for so doing.<br> +<br> +The writer had just entered into his eighteenth year, when he met at +the table of a certain Anglo-Germanist an individual, apparently somewhat +under thirty, of middle stature, a thin and weaselly figure, a sallow +complexion, a certain obliquity of vision, and a large pair of spectacles. +This person, who had lately come from abroad, and had published a volume +of translations, had attracted some slight notice in the literary world, +and was looked upon as a kind of lion in a small provincial capital. +After dinner he argued a great deal, spoke vehemently against the church, +and uttered the most desperate Radicalism that was perhaps ever heard, +saying, he hoped that in a short time there would not be a king or queen +in Europe, and inveighing bitterly against the English aristocracy, +and against the Duke of Wellington in particular, whom he said, if he +himself was ever president of an English republic - an event which he +seemed to think by no means improbable - he would hang for certain infamous +acts of profligacy and bloodshed which he had perpetrated in Spain. +Being informed that the writer was something of a philologist, to which +character the individual in question laid great pretensions, he came +and sat down by him, and talked about languages and literature. +The writer, who was only a boy, was a little frightened at first, but, +not wishing to appear a child of absolute ignorance, he summoned what +little learning he had, and began to blunder out something about the +Celtic languages and literature, and asked the Lion who he conceived +Finn-Ma-Coul to be? and whether he did not consider the “Ode to +the Fox,” by Red Rhys of Eryry, to be a masterpiece of pleasantry? +Receiving no answer to these questions from the Lion, who, singular +enough, would frequently, when the writer put a question to him, look +across the table, and flatly contradict some one who was talking to +some other person, the writer dropped the Celtic languages and literature, +and asked him whether he did not think it a funny thing that Temugin, +generally called Genghis Khan, should have married the daughter of Prester +John? <a name="citation8"></a><a href="#footnote8">{8}</a> The +Lion, after giving a side-glance at the writer through his left spectacle +glass, seemed about to reply, but was unfortunately prevented, being +seized with an irresistible impulse to contradict a respectable doctor +of medicine, who was engaged in conversation with the master of the +house at the upper and farther end of the table, the writer being a +poor ignorant lad, sitting of course at the bottom. The doctor, +who had served in the Peninsula, having observed that Ferdinand the +Seventh was not quite so bad as had been represented, the Lion vociferated +that he was ten times worse, and that he hoped to see him and the Duke +of Wellington hanged together. The doctor, who, being a Welshman, +was somewhat of a warm temper, growing rather red, said that at any +rate he had been informed that Ferdinand the Seventh knew sometimes +how to behave himself like a gentleman - this brought on a long dispute, +which terminated rather abruptly. The Lion having observed that +the doctor must not talk about Spanish matters with one who had visited +every part of Spain, the doctor bowed, and said he was right, for that +he believed no people in general possessed such accurate information +about countries as those who had travelled them as bagmen. On +the Lion asking the doctor what he meant, the Welshman, whose under +jaw began to move violently, replied, that he meant what he said. +Here the matter ended, for the Lion, turning from him, looked at the +writer. The writer, imagining that his own conversation hitherto +had been too trivial and common-place for the Lion to consider worth +his while to take much notice of it, determined to assume a little higher +ground, and after repeating a few verses of the Koran, and gabbling +a little Arabic, asked the Lion what he considered to be the difference +between the Hegira and the Christian era, adding, that he thought the +general computation was in error by about one year; and being a particularly +modest person, chiefly, he believes, owing to his having been at school +in Ireland, absolutely blushed at finding that the Lion returned not +a word in answer. “What a wonderful individual I am seated +by,” thought he, “to whom Arabic seems a vulgar speech, +and a question about the Hegira not worthy of an answer!” not +reflecting that as lions come from the Sahara, they have quite enough +of Arabic at home, and that the question about the Hegira was rather +mal à propos to one used to prey on the flesh of hadjis. +“Now I only wish he would vouchsafe me a little of his learning,” +thought the boy to himself, and in this wish he was at last gratified; +for the Lion, after asking him whether he was acquainted at all with +the Sclavonian languages, and being informed that he was not, absolutely +dumb-foundered him by a display of Sclavonian erudition.<br> +<br> +Years rolled by - the writer was a good deal about, sometimes in London, +sometimes in the country, sometimes abroad; in London he occasionally +met the man of the spectacles, who was always very civil to him, and, +indeed, cultivated his acquaintance. The writer thought it rather +odd that, after he himself had become acquainted with the Sclavonian +languages and literature, the man of the spectacles talked little or +nothing about them. In a little time, however, the matter ceased +to cause him the slightest surprise, for he had discovered a key to +the mystery. In the mean time the man of spectacles was busy enough; +he speculated in commerce, failed, and paid his creditors twenty pennies +in the pound; published translations, of which the public at length +became heartily tired; having, indeed, got an inkling of the manner +in which those translations were got up. He managed, however, +to ride out many a storm, having one trusty sheet-anchor - Radicalism. +This he turned to the best advantage - writing pamphlets and articles +in reviews, all in the Radical interest, and for which he was paid out +of the Radical fund; which articles and pamphlets, when Toryism seemed +to reel on its last legs, exhibited a slight tendency to Whiggism. +Nevertheless, his abhorrence of desertion of principle was so great +in the time of the Duke of Wellington’s administration, that when +S--- left the Whigs and went over, he told the writer, who was about +that time engaged with him in a literary undertaking, that the said +S--- was a fellow with a character so infamous, that any honest man +would rather that you spit in his face than insult his ears with the +mention of the name of S---.<br> +<br> +The literary project having come to nothing, - in which, by the bye, +the writer was to have all the labour, and his friend all the credit, +provided any credit should accrue from it, - the writer did not see +the latter for some years, during which time considerable political +changes took place; the Tories were driven from, and the Whigs placed +in, office, both events being brought about by the Radicals coalescing +with the Whigs, over whom they possessed great influence for the services +which they had rendered. When the writer next visited his friend, +he found him very much altered; his opinions were by no means so exalted +as they had been - he was not disposed even to be rancorous against +the Duke of Wellington, saying that there were worse men than he, and +giving him some credit as a general; a hankering after gentility seeming +to pervade the whole family, father and sons, wife and daughters, all +of whom talked about genteel diversions - gentility novels, and even +seemed to look with favour on High Churchism, having in former years, +to all appearance, been bigoted Dissenters. In a little time the +writer went abroad; as, indeed, did his friend; not, however, like the +writer, at his own expense, but at that of the country - the Whigs having +given him a travelling appointment, which he held for some years, during +which he received upwards of twelve thousand pounds of the money of +the country, for services which will, perhaps, be found inscribed on +certain tablets, when another Astolfo shall visit the moon. This +appointment, however, he lost on the Tories resuming power - when the +writer found him almost as Radical and patriotic as ever, just engaged +in trying to get into Parliament, into which he got by the assistance +of his Radical friends, who, in conjunction with the Whigs, were just +getting up a crusade against the Tories, which they intended should +be a conclusive one.<br> +<br> +A little time after the publication of “The Bible in Spain,” +the Tories being still in power, this individual, full of the most disinterested +friendship for the author, was particularly anxious that he should be +presented with an official situation, in a certain region a great many +miles off. “You are the only person for that appointment,” +said he; “you understand a great deal about the country, and are +better acquainted with the two languages spoken there than any one in +England. Now I love my country, and have, moreover, a great regard +for you, and as I am in Parliament, and have frequent opportunities +of speaking to the Ministry, I shall take care to tell them how desirable +it would be to secure your services. It is true they are Tories, +but I think that even Tories would give up their habitual love of jobbery +in a case like yours, and for once show themselves disposed to be honest +men and gentlemen; indeed, I have no doubt they will, for having so +deservedly an infamous character, they would be glad to get themselves +a little credit, by a presentation which could not possibly be traced +to jobbery or favouritism.”<br> +<br> +The writer begged his friend to give himself no trouble about the matter, +as he was not desirous of the appointment, being in tolerably easy circumstances, +and willing to take some rest after a life of labour. All, however, +that he could say was of no use, his friend indignantly observing, that +the matter ought to be taken entirely out of his hands, and the appointment +thrust upon him for the credit of the country. “But may +not many people be far more worthy of the appointment than myself?” +said the writer. “Where?” said the friendly Radical. +“If you don’t get it, it will be made a job of, given to +the son of some steward, or, perhaps, to some quack who has done dirty +work; I tell you what, I shall ask it for you, in spite of you; I shall, +indeed!” and his eyes flashed with friendly and patriotic fervour +through the large pair of spectacles which he wore.<br> +<br> +And, in fact, it would appear that the honest and friendly patriot put +his threat into execution. “I have spoken,” said he, +“more than once to this and that individual in Parliament, and +everybody seems to think that the appointment should be given to you. +Nay, that you should be forced to accept it. I intend next to +speak to Lord A--- ” And so he did, at least it would appear +so. On the writer calling upon him one evening, about a week afterwards, +in order to take leave of him, as the writer was about to take a long +journey for the sake of his health, his friend no sooner saw him than +he started up in a violent fit of agitation, and glancing about the +room, in which there were several people, amongst others two Whig members +of Parliament, said, “I am glad you are come, I was just speaking +about you. This,” said he, addressing the two members, “is +so and so, the author of so and so, the well-known philologist; as I +was telling you, I spoke to Lord A--- this day about him, and said that +he ought forthwith to have the head appointment in - and what did the +fellow say? Why, that there was no necessity for such an appointment +at all, and if there were, why - and then he hummed and ha’d. +Yes,” said he, looking at the writer, “he did indeed. +What a scandal! what an infamy! But I see how it will be, it will +be a job. The place will be given to some son of a steward or +to some quack, as I said before. Oh, these Tories! Well, +if this does not make one - ” Here he stopped short, +crunched his teeth, and looked the image of desperation.<br> +<br> +Seeing the poor man in this distressed condition, the writer begged +him to be comforted, and not to take the matter so much to heart; but +the indignant Radical took the matter very much to heart, and refused +all comfort whatever, bouncing about the room, and, whilst his spectacles +flashed in the light of four spermaceti candles, exclaiming, “It +will be a job - a Tory job! I see it all, I see it all, I see +it all!”<br> +<br> +And a job it proved, and a very pretty job, but no Tory job. Shortly +afterwards the Tories were out, and the Whigs were in. From that +time the writer heard not a word about the injustice done to the country +in not presenting him with the appointment to -; the Radical, however, +was busy enough to obtain the appointment, not for the writer, but for +himself, and eventually succeeded, partly through Radical influence, +and partly through that of a certain Whig lord, for whom the Radical +had done, on a particular occasion, work of a particular kind. +So, though the place was given to a quack, and the whole affair a very +pretty job, it was one in which the Tories had certainly no hand.<br> +<br> +In the meanwhile, however, the friendly Radical did not drop the writer. +Oh, no! On various occasions he obtained from the writer all the +information about the country in question, and was particularly anxious +to obtain from the writer, and eventually did obtain, a copy of a work +written in the court language of that country, edited by the writer, +a language exceedingly difficult, which the writer, at the expense of +a considerable portion of his eyesight, had acquired, at least as far +as by the eyesight it could be acquired. What use the writer’s +friend made of the knowledge he had gained from him, and what use he +made of the book, the writer can only guess; but he has little doubt +that when the question of sending a person to - was mooted in a Parliamentary +Committee - which it was at the instigation of the writer’s friend +- the Radical on being examined about the country, gave the information +which he had obtained from the writer as his own, and flashed the book +and its singular characters in the eyes of the Committee; and then of +course his Radical friends would instantly say, “This is the man! +there is no one like him. See what information he possesses; and +see that book written by himself in the court language of Serendib. +This is the only man to send there. What a glory, what a triumph +it would be to Britain, to send out a man so deeply versed in the mysterious +lore of - as our illustrious countryman; a person who with his knowledge +could beat with their own weapons the wise men of - Is such an +opportunity to be lost? Oh, no! surely not; if it is, it will +be an eternal disgrace to England, and the world will see that Whigs +are no better than Tories.”<br> +<br> +Let no one think the writer uncharitable in these suppositions. +The writer is only too well acquainted with the antecedents of the individual, +to entertain much doubt that he would shrink from any such conduct, +provided he thought that his temporal interest would be forwarded by +it. The writer is aware of more than one instance in which he +has passed off the literature of friendless young men for his own, after +making them a slight pecuniary compensation and deforming what was originally +excellent by interpolations of his own. This was his especial +practice with regard to translation, of which he would fain be esteemed +the king. This Radical literato is slightly acquainted with four +or five of the easier dialects of Europe, on the strength of which knowledge +be would fain pass for a universal linguist, publishing translations +of pieces originally written in various difficult languages; which translations, +however, were either made by himself from literal renderings done for +him into French or German, or had been made from the originals into +English, by friendless young men, and then deformed by his alterations.<br> +<br> +Well, the Radical got the appointment, and the writer certainly did +not grudge it him. He, of course, was aware that his friend had +behaved in a very base manner towards him, but he bore him no ill-will, +and invariably when he heard him spoken against, which was frequently +the case, took his part when no other person would; indeed, he could +well afford to bear him no ill-will. He had never sought for the +appointment, nor wished for it, nor, indeed, ever believed himself to +be qualified for it. He was conscious, it is true, that he was +not altogether unacquainted with the language and literature of the +country with which the appointment was connected. He was likewise +aware that he was not altogether deficient in courage and in propriety +of behaviour. He knew that his appearance was not particularly +against him; his face not being like that of a convicted pickpocket, +nor his gait resembling that of a fox who has lost his tail; yet he +never believed himself adapted for the appointment, being aware that +he had no aptitude for the doing of dirty work, if called to do it, +nor pliancy which would enable him to submit to scurvy treatment, whether +he did dirty work or not - requisites, at the time of which he is speaking, +indispensable in every British official; requisites, by the bye, which +his friend the Radical possessed in a high degree; but though he bore +no ill-will towards his friend, his friend bore anything but good-will +towards him; for from the moment that he had obtained the appointment +for himself, his mind was filled with the most bitter malignity against +the writer, and naturally enough; for no one ever yet behaved in a base +manner towards another, without forthwith conceiving a mortal hatred +against him. You wrong another, know yourself to have acted basely, +and are enraged, not against yourself - for no one hates himself - but +against the innocent cause of your baseness; reasoning very plausibly, +“But for that fellow, I should never have been base; for had he +not existed I could not have been so, at any rate against him;” +and this hatred is all the more bitter, when you reflect that you have +been needlessly base.<br> +<br> +Whilst the Tories are in power the writer’s friend, of his own +accord, raves against the Tories because they do not give the writer +a certain appointment, and makes, or says he makes, desperate exertions +to make them do so; but no sooner are the Tories out, with whom he has +no influence, and the Whigs in, with whom he, or rather his party, has +influence, than he gets the place for himself, though, according to +his own expressed opinion - an opinion with which the writer does not, +and never did, concur - the writer was the only person competent to +hold it. Now had he, without saying a word to the writer, or about +the writer with respect to the employment, got the place for himself +when he had an opportunity, knowing, as he very well knew, himself to +be utterly unqualified for it, the transaction, though a piece of jobbery, +would not have merited the title of a base transaction; as the matter +stands, however, who can avoid calling the whole affair not only a piece +of - come, come, out with the word - scoundrelism on the part of the +writer’s friend, but a most curious piece of uncalled-for scoundrelism? +and who, with any knowledge of fallen human nature, can wonder at the +writer’s friend entertaining towards him a considerable portion +of gall and malignity?<br> +<br> +This feeling on the part of the writer’s friend was wonderfully +increased by the appearance of Lavengro, many passages of which the +Radical in his foreign appointment applied to himself and family - one +or two of his children having gone over to Popery, the rest become members +of Mr. Platitude’s chapel, and the minds of all being filled with +ultra notions of gentility.<br> +<br> +The writer, hearing that his old friend had returned to England, to +apply, he believes, for an increase of salary, and for a title, called +upon him, unwillingly, it is true, for he had no wish to see a person +for whom, though he bore him no ill-will, he could not avoid feeling +a considerable portion of contempt; the truth is, that his sole object +in calling was to endeavour to get back a piece of literary property +which his friend had obtained from him many years previously, and which, +though he had frequently applied for it, he never could get back. +Well, the writer called; he did not get his property, which, indeed, +he had scarcely time to press for, being almost instantly attacked by +his good friend and his wife - yes, it was then that the author was +set upon by an old Radical and his wife - the wife, who looked the very +image of shame and malignity, did not say much, it is true, but encouraged +her husband in all he said. Both of their own accord introduced +the subject of Lavengro. The Radical called the writer a grumbler, +just as if there had ever been a greater grumbler than himself until, +by the means above described, he had obtained a place: he said that +the book contained a melancholy view of human nature - just as if anybody +could look in his face without having a melancholy view of human nature. +On the writer quietly observing that the book contained an exposition +of his principles, the pseudo-Radical replied, that he cared nothing +for his principles - which was probably true, it not being likely that +he would care for another person’s principles after having shown +so thorough a disregard for his own. The writer said that the +book, of course, would give offence to humbugs; the Radical then demanded +whether he thought him a humbug? - the wretched wife was the Radical’s +protection, even as he knew she would be; it was on her account that +the writer did not kick his good friend; as it was, he looked at him +in the face and thought to himself, “How is it possible I should +think you a humbug, when only last night I was taking your part in a +company in which everybody called you a humbug?”<br> +<br> +The Radical, probably observing something in the writer’s eye +which he did not like, became all on a sudden abjectly submissive, and, +professing the highest admiration for the writer, begged him to visit +him in his government; this the writer promised faithfully to do, and +he takes the present opportunity of performing his promise.<br> +<br> +This is one of the pseudo-Radical calumniators of Lavengro and its author; +were the writer on his deathbed he would lay his hand on his heart and +say, that he does not believe that there is one trait of exaggeration +in the portrait which he has drawn. This is one of the pseudo-Radical +calumniators of Lavengro and its author; and this is one of the genus, +who, after having railed against jobbery for perhaps a quarter of a +century, at present batten on large official salaries which they do +not earn. England is a great country, and her interests require +that she should have many a well-paid official both at home and abroad; +but will England long continue a great country if the care of her interests, +both at home and abroad, is in many instances intrusted to beings like +him described above, whose only recommendation for an official appointment +was that he was deeply versed in the secrets of his party and of the +Whigs?<br> +<br> +Before he concludes, the writer will take the liberty of saying of Lavengro +that it is a book written for the express purpose of inculcating virtue, +love of country, learning, manly pursuits, and genuine religion, for +example, that of the Church of England, and for awakening a contempt +for nonsense of every kind, and a hatred for priestcraft, more especially +that of Rome.<br> +<br> +And in conclusion, with respect to many passages of his book in which +he has expressed himself in terms neither measured nor mealy, he will +beg leave to observe, in the words of a great poet, who lived a profligate +life, it is true, but who died a sincere penitent - thanks, after God, +to good Bishop Burnet -<br> +<br> +<br> +“All this with indignation I have hurl’d<br> +At the pretending part of this proud world,<br> +Who, swollen with selfish vanity, devise<br> +False freedoms, formal cheats, and holy lies,<br> +Over their fellow fools to tyrannize.”<br> +ROCHESTER.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Footnotes<br> +<br> +<a name="footnote1"></a><a href="#citation1">{1}</a> Tipperary.<br> +<br> +<a name="footnote2"></a><a href="#citation2">{2}</a> An obscene +oath.<br> +<br> +<a name="footnote3"></a><a href="#citation3">{3}</a> See “Muses’ +Library,” pp. 86, 87. London, 1738.<br> +<br> +<a name="footnote4"></a><a href="#citation4">{4}</a> Genteel with +them seems to be synonymous with Gentile and Gentoo; if so, the manner +in which it has been applied for ages ceases to surprise, for genteel +is heathenish. Ideas of barbaric pearl and gold, glittering armour, +plumes, tortures, blood-shedding, and lust, should always be connected +with it. Wace, in his grand Norman poem, calls the Baron genteel:-<br> +<br> +<br> +“La furent li gentil Baron,” etc.<br> +<br> +<br> +And he certainly could not have applied the word better than to the +strong Norman thief, armed cap-à-pie, without one particle of +truth or generosity; for a person to be a pink of gentility, that is +heathenism, should have no such feelings; and, indeed, the admirers +of gentility seldom or never associate any such feelings with it. +It was from the Norman, the worst of all robbers and miscreants, who +built strong castles, garrisoned them with devils, and tore out poor +wretches’ eyes, as the Saxon Chronicle says, that the English +got their detestable word genteel. What could ever have made the +English such admirers of gentility, it would be difficult to say; for, +during three hundred years, they suffered enough by it. Their +genteel Norman landlords were their scourgers, their torturers, the +plunderers of their homes, the dishonourers of their wives, and the +deflourers of their daughters. Perhaps, after all, fear is at +the root of the English veneration for gentility.<br> +<br> +<a name="footnote5"></a><a href="#citation5">{5}</a> Gentle and +gentlemanly may be derived from the same root as genteel; but nothing +can be more distinct from the mere genteel, than the ideas which enlightened +minds associate with these words. Gentle and gentlemanly mean +something kind and genial; genteel, that which is glittering or gaudy. +A person can be a gentleman in rags, but nobody can be genteel.<br> +<br> +<a name="footnote6"></a><a href="#citation6">{6}</a> The writer +has been checked in print by the Scotch with being a Norfolk man. +Surely, surely, these latter times have not been exactly the ones in +which it was expedient for Scotchmen to check the children of any county +in England with the place of their birth, more especially those who +have had the honour of being born in Norfolk - times in which British +fleets, commanded by Scotchmen, have returned laden with anything but +laurels from foreign shores. It would have been well for Britain +had she had the old Norfolk man to dispatch to the Baltic or the Black +sea, lately, instead of Scotch admirals.<br> +<br> +<a name="footnote7"></a><a href="#citation7">{7}</a> As the present +work will come out in the midst of a vehement political contest, people +may be led to suppose that the above was written expressly for the time. +The writer therefore begs to state that it was written in the year 1854. +He cannot help adding that he is neither Whig, Tory, nor Radical, and +cares not a straw what party governs England, provided it is governed +well. But he has no hopes of good government from the Whigs. +It is true that amongst them there is one very great man, Lord Palmerston, +who is indeed the sword and buckler, the chariots and the horses of +the party; but it is impossible for his lordship to govern well with +such colleagues as he has - colleagues which have been forced upon him +by family influence, and who are continually pestering him into measures +anything but conducive to the country’s honour and interest. +If Palmerston would govern well, he must get rid of them; but from that +step, with all his courage and all his greatness, he will shrink. +Yet how proper and easy a step it would be! He could easily get +better, but scarcely worse, associates. They appear to have one +object in view, and only one - jobbery. It was chiefly owing to +a most flagitious piece of jobbery, which one of his lordship’s +principal colleagues sanctioned and promoted, that his lordship experienced +his late parliamentary disasters.<br> +<br> +<a name="footnote8"></a><a href="#citation8">{8}</a> A fact.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE ROMANY RYE ***<br> +<pre> + +******This file should be named trrye10h.htm or trrye10h.zip****** +Corrected EDITIONS of our EBooks get a new NUMBER, trrye11h.htm +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, trrye10ah.htm + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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