Chapter XCII…

Chapter XCII

Amongst other excursions, I went several times to the public-house, to which I introduced the reader in a former chapter. I had experienced such beneficial effects from the ale I had drunk on that occasion, that I wished to put its virtue to a frequent test; nor did the ale on subsequent trials belie the good opinion which I had at first formed of it. After each visit which I made to the public-house, I found my frame stronger, and my mind more cheerful than they had previously been. The landlord appeared at all times glad to see me, and insisted that I should sit within the bar, where, leaving his other guests to be attended to by a niece of his who officiated as his housekeeper, he would sit beside me and talk of matters concerning "the ring," indulging himself with a cigar and a glass of sherry, which he told me was his favourite wine, whilst I drank my ale. "I loves the conversation of all you coves of the ring," said he once, "which is natural, seeing as how I have fought in a ring myself. Ah, there is nothing like the ring; I wish I was not rather too old to go again into it. I often think I should like to have another rally--one more rally, and then--but there's a time for all things--youth will be served, every dog has his day, and mine has been a fine one--let me be content. After beating Tom of Hopton, there was not much more to be done in the way of reputation; I have long sat in my bar the wonder and glory of this here neighbourhood. I'm content, as far as reputation goes; I only wish money would come in a little faster; however, the next main of cocks will bring me in something handsome--comes off next Wednesday at --- have ventured ten five-pound notes--shouldn't say ventured either--run no risk at all, because why? I know my birds." About ten days after this harangue, I called again at about three o'clock one afternoon. The landlord was seated on a bench by a table in the common room, which was entirely empty; he was neither smoking nor drinking, but sat with his arms folded, and his head hanging down over his breast. At the sound of my step he looked up; "Ah," said he, "I am glad you are come, I was just thinking about you". "Thank you," said I; "it was very kind of you, especially at a time like this, when your mind must be full of your good fortune. Allow me to congratulate you on the sums of money you won by the main of cocks at --- I hope you brought it all safe home." "Safe home," said the landlord; "I brought myself safe home, and that was all; came home without a shilling, regularly done, cleaned out." "I am sorry for that," said I; "but after you had won the money, you ought to have been satisfied, and not risked it again--how did you lose it? I hope not by the pea and thimble." "Pea and thimble," said the landlord, "not I; those confounded cocks left me nothing to lose by the pea and thimble." "Dear me," said I; "I thought that you knew your birds." "Well, so I did," said the landlord; "I knew the birds to be good birds, and so they proved, and would have won if better birds had not been brought against them, of which I knew nothing, and so do you see I am done, regularly done." "Well," said I, "don't be cast down; there is one thing of which the cocks by their misfortune cannot deprive you--your reputation; make the most of that, give up cock-fighting, and be content with the custom of your house, of which you will always have plenty, as long as you are the wonder and glory of the neighbourhood."

The landlord struck the table before him violently with his fist. "Confound my reputation!" said he. "No reputation that I have will be satisfaction to my brewer for the seventy pounds I owe him. Reputation won't pass for the current coin of this here realm; and let me tell you, that if it a'n't backed by some of it, it a'n't a bit better than rotten cabbage, as I have found. Only three weeks since I was, as I told you, the wonder and glory of the neighbourhood; and people used to come and look at me, and worship me, but as soon as it began to be whispered about that I owed money to the brewer, they presently left off all that kind of thing; and now, during the last three days, since the tale of my misfortune with the cocks has got wind, almost everybody has left off coming to the house, and the few who does, merely comes to insult and flout me. It was only last night that fellow, Hunter, called me an old fool in my own kitchen here. He wouldn't have called me a fool a fortnight ago; 'twas I called him fool then, and last night he called me old fool; what do you think of that? the man that beat Tom of Hopton, to be called, not only a fool, but an old fool; and I hadn't heart, with one blow of this here fist into his face, to send his head ringing against the wall; for when a man's pocket is low, do you see, his heart a'n't much higher; but it is of no use talking, something must be done. I was thinking of you just as you came in, for you are just the person that can help me."

"If you mean," said I, "to ask me to lend you the money which you want, it will be to no purpose, as I have very little of my own, just enough for my own occasions; it is true, if you desired it, I would be your intercessor with the person to whom you owe the money, though I should hardly imagine that anything I could say--" "You are right there," said the landlord; "much the brewer would care for anything you could say on my behalf--your going would be the very way to do me up entirely. A pretty opinion he would have of the state of my affairs if I were to send him such a 'cessor as you, and as for your lending me money, don't think I was ever fool enough to suppose either that you had any, or if you had that you would be fool enough to lend me any. No, no, the coves of the ring knows better; I have been in the ring myself, and knows what fighting a cove is, and though I was fool enough to back those birds, I was never quite fool enough to lend anybody money. What I am about to propose is something very different from going to my landlord, or lending any capital; something which, though it will put money into my pocket, will likewise put something handsome into your own. I want to get up a fight in this here neighbourhood, which would be sure to bring plenty of people to my house, for a week before and after it takes place, and as people can't come without drinking, I think I could, during one fortnight, get off for the brewer all the sour and unsaleable liquids he now has, which people wouldn't drink at any other time, and by that means, do you see, liquidate my debt; then, by means of betting, making first all right, do you see, I have no doubt that I could put something handsome into my pocket and yours, for I should wish you to be the fighting man, as I think I can depend upon you." "You really must excuse me," said I, "I have no wish to figure as a pugilist, besides there is such a difference in our ages; you may be the stronger man of the two, and perhaps the hardest hitter, but I am in much better condition, am more active on my legs, so that I am almost sure I should have the advantage, for, as you very properly observed, 'Youth will be served'." "Oh, I didn't mean to fight," said the landlord; "I think I could beat you if I were to train a little; but in the fight I propose I looks more to the main chance than anything else. I question whether half so many people could be brought together if you were to fight with me as the person I have in view, or whether there would be half such opportunities for betting, for I am a man, do you see, the person I wants you to fight with is not a man, but the young woman you keeps company with."

"The young woman I keep company with," said I; "pray what do you mean?"

"We will go into the bar, and have something," said the landlord, getting up. "My niece is out, and there is no one in the house, so we can talk the matter over quietly." Thereupon I followed him into the bar, where, having drawn me a jug of ale, helped himself as usual to a glass of sherry, and lighted a cigar, he proceeded to explain himself farther. "What I wants is to get up a fight between a man and a woman; there never has yet been such a thing in the ring, and the mere noise of the matter would bring thousands of people together, quite enough to drink out--for the thing should be close to my house--all the brewer's stock of liquids, both good and bad." "But," said I, "you were the other day boasting of the respectability of your house; do you think that a fight between a man and a woman close to your establishment would add to its respectability?" "Confound the respectability of my house," said the landlord, "will the respectability of my house pay the brewer, or keep the roof over my head? No, no! when respectability won't keep a man, do you see, the best thing is to let it go and wander. Only let me have my own way, and both the brewer, myself, and every one of us, will be satisfied. And then the betting--what a deal we may make by the betting--and that we shall have all to ourselves, you, I, and the young woman; the brewer will have no hand in that. I can manage to raise ten pounds, and if by flashing that about, I don't manage to make a hundred, call me horse." "But, suppose," said I, "the party should lose, on whom you sport your money, even as the birds did?" "We must first make all right," said the landlord, "as I told you before; the birds were irrational beings, and therefore couldn't come to an understanding with the others, as you and the young woman can. The birds fought fair; but I intend you and the young woman should fight cross." "What do you mean by cross?" said I. "Come, come," said the landlord, "don't attempt to gammon me; you in the ring, and pretend not to know what fighting cross is. That won't do, my fine fellow; but as no one is near us, I will speak out. I intend that you and the young woman should understand one another and agree beforehand which should be beat; and if you take my advice you will determine between you that the young woman shall be beat, as I am sure that the odds will run high upon her, her character as a fist woman being spread far and wide, so that all the flats who think it will be all right, will back her, as I myself would, if I thought it would be a fair thing." "Then," said I, "you would not have us fight fair." "By no means," said the landlord, "because why? I conceives that a cross is a certainty to those who are in it, whereas by the fair thing one may lose all he has." "But," said I, "you said the other day, that you liked the fair thing." "That was by way of gammon," said the landlord; "just, do you see, as a Parliament cove might say speechifying from a barrel to a set of flats, whom he means to sell. Come, what do you think of the plan?"

"It is a very ingenious one," said I.

"A'n't it," said the landlord. "The folks in this neighbourhood are beginning to call me old fool, but if they don't call me something else, when they sees me friends with the brewer, and money in my pocket, my name is not Catchpole. Come, drink your ale, and go home to the young gentlewoman."

"I am going," said I, rising from my seat, after finishing the remainder of the ale.

"Do you think she'll have any objection?" said the landlord.

"To do what?" said I.

"Why, to fight cross."

"Yes, I do," said I.

"But you will do your best to persuade her?"

"No, I will not," said I.

"Are you fool enough to wish to fight fair?"

"No," said I, "I am wise enough to wish not to fight at all."

"And how's my brewer to be paid?" said the landlord.

"I really don't know," said I.

"I'll change my religion," said the landlord.

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Chapter XCIII

One evening Belle and myself received another visit from the man in black. After a little conversation of not much importance, I asked him whether he would not take some refreshment, assuring him that I was now in possession of some very excellent Hollands which, with a glass, a jug of water, and a lump of sugar, were heartily at his service; he accepted my offer, and Belle going with a jug to the spring, from which she was in the habit of procuring water for tea, speedily returned with it full of the clear, delicious water of which I have already spoken. Having placed the jug by the side of the man in black, she brought him a glass and spoon, and a tea-cup, the latter containing various lumps of snowy-white sugar: in the meantime I had produced a bottle of the stronger liquid. The man in black helped himself to some water, and likewise to some Hollands, the proportion of water being about two-thirds; then adding a lump of sugar, he stirred the whole up, tasted it, and said that it was good.

"This is one of the good things of life," he added, after a short pause.

"What are the others?" I demanded.

"There is Malvoisia sack," said the man in black, "and partridge, and beccafico."

"And what do you say to high mass?" said I.

"High mass!" said the man in black; "however," he continued, after a pause, "I will be frank with you; I came to be so; I may have heard high mass on a time, and said it too, but as for any predilection for it, I assure you I have no more than for a long High Church sermon."

"You speak a la Margutte?" said I.

"Margutte!" said the man in black, musingly, "Margutte?"

"You have read Pulci, I suppose?" said I.

"Yes, yes," said the man in black, laughing; "I remember."

"He might be rendered into English," said I, "something in this style:--

"To which Margutte answered with a sneer, I like the blue no better than the black, My faith consists alone in savoury cheer, In roasted capons, and in potent sack; But above all, in famous gin and clear, Which often lays the Briton on his back, With lump of sugar, and with lympth from well, I drink it, and defy the fiends of hell."

"He! he! he!" said the man in black; "that is more than Mezzofante could have done for a stanza of Byron."

"A clever man," said I.

"Who?" said the man in black.

"Mezzofante di Bologna."

"He! he! he!" said the man in black; "now I know that you are not a Gypsy, at least a soothsayer; no soothsayer would have said that--"

"Why," said I, "does he not understand five-and-twenty tongues?"

"Oh, yes," said the man in black; "and five-and-twenty added to them; but--he! he! he! it was principally from him who is certainly the greatest of philologists that I formed my opinion of the sect."

"You ought to speak of him with more respect," said I; "I have heard say that he has done good service to your see."

"Oh, yes," said the man in black; "he has done good service to our see, that is, in his way; when the neophytes of the propaganda are to be examined in the several tongues in which they are destined to preach, he is appointed to question them, the questions being first written down for him, or else, he! he! he! Of course you know Napoleon's estimate of Mezzofante; he sent for the linguist from motives of curiosity, and after some discourse with him, told him that he might depart; then turning to some of his generals, he observed: 'Nous avons eu ici un exemple qu'un homme peut avoir beaucoup de paroles avec bien peu d'esprit'."

"You are ungrateful to him," said I; "well, perhaps, when he is dead and gone you will do him justice."

"True," said the man in black; "when he is dead and gone we intend to erect him a statue of wood, on the left-hand side of the door of the Vatican library."

"Of wood?" said I.

"He was the son of a carpenter, you know," said the man in black; "the figure will be of wood, for no other reason, I assure you; he! he!"

"You should place another statue on the right."

"Perhaps we shall," said the man in black; "but we know of no one amongst the philologists of Italy, nor, indeed, of the other countries, inhabited by the faithful, worthy to sit parallel in effigy with our illustrissimo; when, indeed, we have conquered these regions of the perfidious by bringing the inhabitants thereof to the true faith, I have no doubt that we shall be able to select one worthy to bear him company, one whose statue shall be placed on the right hand of the library, in testimony of our joy at his conversion; for, as you know, 'There is more joy,' etc."

"Wood?" said I.

"I hope not," said the man in black; "no, if I be consulted as to the material for the statue, I should strongly recommend bronze."

And when the man in black had said this, he emptied his second tumbler of its contents, and prepared himself another.

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Chapter XCIV

"So you hope to bring these regions again beneath the banner of the Roman See?" said I, after the man in black had prepared the beverage, and tasted it.

"Hope," said the man in black; "how can we fail? Is not the Church of these regions going to lose its prerogative?"

"Its prerogative?"

"Yes; those who should be the guardians of the religion of England are about to grant Papists emancipation and to remove the disabilities from Dissenters, which will allow the Holy Father to play his own game in England."

On my inquiring how the Holy Father intended to play his game, the man in black gave me to understand that he intended for the present to cover the land with temples, in which the religion of Protestants would be continually scoffed at and reviled.

On my observing that such behaviour would savour strongly of ingratitude, the man in black gave me to understand that if I entertained the idea that the See of Rome was ever influenced in its actions by any feeling of gratitude I was much mistaken, assuring me that if the See of Rome in any encounter should chance to be disarmed and its adversary, from a feeling of magnanimity, should restore the sword which had been knocked out of its hand, the See of Rome always endeavoured on the first opportunity to plunge the said sword into its adversary's bosom,--conduct which the man in black seemed to think was very wise, and which he assured me had already enabled it to get rid of a great many troublesome adversaries, and would, he had no doubt, enable it to get rid of a great many more.

On my attempting to argue against the propriety of such behaviour, the man in black cut the matter short, by saying, that if one party was a fool he saw no reason why the other should imitate it in its folly.

After musing a little while I told him that emancipation had not yet passed through the legislature, and that perhaps it never would, reminding him that there was often many a slip between the cup and the lip; to which observation the man in black agreed, assuring me, however, that there was no doubt that emancipation would be carried, inasmuch as there was a very loud cry at present in the land; a cry of "tolerance," which had almost frightened the Government out of its wits; who, to get rid of the cry, was going to grant all that was asked in the way of toleration, instead of telling the people to "Hold their nonsense," and cutting them down, provided they continued bawling longer.

I questioned the man in black with respect to the origin of this cry; but he said to trace it to its origin would require a long history; that, at any rate, such a cry was in existence, the chief raisers of it being certain of the nobility, called Whigs, who hoped by means of it to get into power, and to turn out certain ancient adversaries of theirs called Tories, who were for letting things remain in statu quo; that these Whigs were backed by a party amongst the people called Radicals, a specimen of whom I had seen in the public-house; a set of fellows who were always in the habit of bawling against those in place; "and so," he added, "by means of these parties, and the hubbub which the papists and other smaller sects are making, a general emancipation will be carried, and the Church of England humbled, which is the principal thing which the See of Rome cares for."

On my telling the man in black that I believed that even among the high dignitaries of the English Church there were many who wished to grant perfect freedom to religions of all descriptions, he said: "He was aware that such was the fact, and that such a wish was anything but wise, inasmuch as if they had any regard for the religion they professed, they ought to stand by it through thick and thin, proclaiming it to be the only true one, and denouncing all others, in an alliterative style, as dangerous and damnable; whereas by their present conduct, they were bringing their religion into contempt with the people at large, who would never continue long attached to a church, the ministers of which did not stand up for it, and likewise cause their own brethren, who had a clearer notion of things, to be ashamed of belonging to it. I speak advisedly," said he, in continuation, "there is one Platitude."

"And I hope there is only one," said I; "you surely would not adduce the likes and dislikes of that poor silly fellow as the criterions of the opinions of any party?"

"You know him?" said the man in black; "nay, I heard you mention him in the public-house; the fellow is not very wise, I admit, but he has sense enough to know that unless a church can make people hold their tongues when it thinks fit, it is scarcely deserving the name of a church; no, I think that the fellow is not such a very bad stick, and that upon the whole he is, or rather was, an advantageous specimen of the High Church English clergy, who, for the most part, so far from troubling their heads about persecuting people, only think of securing their tithes, eating their heavy dinners, puffing out their cheeks with importance on country justice benches, and occasionally exhibiting their conceited wives, hoyden daughters, and gawky sons at country balls, whereas Platitude--"

"Stop," said I; "you said in the public-house that the Church of England was a persecuting church, and here in the dingle you have confessed that one section of it is willing to grant perfect freedom to the exercise of all religions, and the other only thinks of leading an easy life."

"Saying a thing in the public-house is a widely different thing from saying it in the dingle," said the man in black; "had the Church of England been a persecuting church, it would not stand in the position in which it stands at present; it might, with its opportunities, have spread itself over the greater part of the world. I was about to observe, that instead of practising the indolent habits of his High Church brethren, Platitude would be working for his money, preaching the proper use of fire and faggot, or rather of the halter and the whipping-post, encouraging mobs to attack the houses of Dissenters, employing spies to collect the scandal of neighbourhoods, in order that he might use it for sacerdotal purposes, and, in fact, endeavouring to turn an English parish into something like a Jesuit benefice in the south of France."

"He tried that game," said I, "and the parish said, 'Pooh, pooh,' and, for the most part, went over to the Dissenters."

"Very true," said the man in black, taking a sip at his glass, "but why were the Dissenters allowed to preach? why were they not beaten on the lips till they spat out blood, with a dislodged tooth or two? Why, but because the authority of the Church of England has, by its own fault, become so circumscribed that Mr. Platitude was not able to send a host of beadles and sbirri to their chapel to bring them to reason, on which account Mr. Platitude is very properly ashamed of his church, and is thinking of uniting himself with one which possesses more vigour and authority."

"It may have vigour and authority," said I, "in foreign lands, but in these kingdoms the day for practising its atrocities is gone by. It is at present almost below contempt, and is obliged to sue for grace in forma pauperis."

"Very true," said the man in black, "but let it once obtain emancipation, and it will cast its slough, put on its fine clothes, and make converts by thousands. 'What a fine church,' they'll say; 'with what authority it speaks--no doubts, no hesitation, no sticking at trifles.' What a contrast to the sleepy English Church! they'll go over to it by millions, till it preponderates here over every other, when it will of course be voted the dominant one; and then--and then--" and here the man in black drank a considerable quantity of gin and water.

"What then?" said I.

"What then?" said the man in black, "why, she will be true to herself. Let Dissenters, whether they be Church of England, as perhaps they may still call themselves, Methodist or Presbyterian, presume to grumble, and there shall be bruising of lips in pulpits, tying up to whipping-posts, cutting off ears and noses--he! he! the farce of King Log has been acted long enough; the time for Queen Stork's tragedy is drawing nigh;" and the man in black sipped his gin and water in a very exulting manner.

"And this is the church which, according to your assertion in the public- house, never persecutes?"

"I have already given you an answer," said the man in black, "with respect to the matter of the public-house; it is one of the happy privileges of those who belong to my church to deny in the public-house what they admit in the dingle; we have high warranty for such double speaking. Did not the foundation stone of our church, Saint Peter, deny in the public-house what he had previously professed in the valley?"

"And do you think," said I, "that the people of England, who have shown aversion to anything in the shape of intolerance, will permit such barbarities as you have described?"

"Let them become Papists," said the man in black; "only let the majority become Papists, and you will see."

"They will never become so," said I; "the good sense of the people of England will never permit them to commit such an absurdity."

"The good sense of the people of England?" said the man in black, filling himself another glass.

"Yes," said I; "the good sense of not only the upper, but the middle and lower classes."

"And of what description of people are the upper class?" said the man in black, putting a lump of sugar into his gin and water.

"Very fine people," said I, "monstrously fine people; so, at least, they are generally believed to be."

"He! he!" said the man in black; "only those think them so who don't know them. The male part of the upper class are in youth a set of heartless profligates; in old age, a parcel of poor, shaking, nervous paillards. The female part, worthy to be the sisters and wives of such wretches, unmarried, full of cold vice, kept under by vanity and ambition, but which, after marriage, they seek not to restrain; in old age, abandoned to vapours and horrors, do you think that such beings will afford any obstacle to the progress of the church in these regions, as soon as her movements are unfettered?"

"I cannot give an opinion; I know nothing of them, except from a distance. But what think you of the middle classes?"

"Their chief characteristic," said the man in black, "is a rage for grandeur and gentility; and that same rage makes us quite sure of them in the long run. Everything that's lofty meets their unqualified approbation; whilst everything humble, or, as they call it, 'low,' is scouted by them. They begin to have a vague idea that the religion which they have hitherto professed is low; at any rate that it is not the religion of the mighty ones of the earth, of the great kings and emperors whose shoes they have a vast inclination to kiss, nor was used by the grand personages of whom they have read in their novels and romances, their Ivanhoes, their Marmions, and their Ladies of the Lake."

"Do you think that the writings of Scott have had any influence in modifying their religious opinions?"

"Most certainly I do," said the man in black. "The writings of that man have made them greater fools than they were before. All their conversation now is about gallant knights, princesses and cavaliers, with which his pages are stuffed--all of whom were Papists, or very High Church, which is nearly the same thing; and they are beginning to think that the religion of such nice sweet-scented gentry must be something very superfine. Why, I know at Birmingham the daughter of an ironmonger, who screeches to the piano the Lady of the Lake's hymn to the Virgin Mary, always weeps when Mary Queen of Scots is mentioned, and fasts on the anniversary of the death of that very wise martyr, Charles the First. Why, I would engage to convert such an idiot to popery in a week, were it worth my trouble. O Cavaliere Gualtiero, avete fatto molto in favore della Santa Sede!"

"If he has," said I, "he has done it unwittingly; I never heard before that he was a favourer of the popish delusion."

"Only in theory," said the man in black. "Trust any of the clan MacSycophant for interfering openly and boldly in favour of any cause on which the sun does not shine benignantly. Popery is at present, as you say, suing for grace in these regions in forma pauperis; but let royalty once take it up, let old gouty George once patronise it, and I would consent to drink puddle-water, if the very next time the canny Scot was admitted to the royal symposium he did not say: 'By my faith, yere Majesty, I have always thought, at the bottom of my heart, that popery, as ill-scrapit tongues ca' it, was a very grand religion; I shall be proud to follow your Majesty's example in adopting it'."

"I doubt not," said I, "that both gouty George and his devoted servant will be mouldering in their tombs long before royalty in England thinks about adopting popery."

"We can wait," said the man in black; "in these days of rampant gentility, there will be no want of kings nor of Scots about them."

"But not Walters," said I.

"Our work has been already tolerably well done by one," said the man in black; "but if we wanted literature we should never lack in these regions hosts of literary men of some kind or other to eulogise us, provided our religion were in the fashion, and our popish nobles chose, and they always do our bidding, to admit the canaille to their tables, their kitchen tables. As for literature in general," said he, "the Santa Sede is not particularly partial to it, it may be employed both ways. In Italy, in particular, it has discovered that literary men are not always disposed to be lick-spittles."

"For example, Dante," said I.

"Yes," said the man in black. "A dangerous personage; that poem of his cuts both ways; and then there was Pulci, that Morgante of his cuts both ways, or rather one way, and that sheer against us; and then there was Aretino, who dealt so hard with the poveri frati; all writers, at least Italian ones, are not lick-spittles. And then in Spain, 'tis true, Lope de Vega and Calderon were most inordinate lick-spittles; the Principe Constante of the last is a curiosity in its way; and then the Mary Stuart of Lope; I think I shall recommend the perusal of that work to the Birmingham ironmonger's daughter; she has been lately thinking of adding 'a slight knowledge of the magneeficent language of the Peninsula' to the rest of her accomplishments, he! he! he! but then there was Cervantes, starving, but straight; he deals us some hard knocks in that second part of his Quixote; then there was some of the writers of the picaresque novels. No; all literary men are not lick-spittles, whether in Italy or Spain, or, indeed, upon the Continent; it is only in England that all--"

"Come," said I, "mind what you are about to say of English literary men."

"Why should I mind?" said the man in black, "there are no literary men here. I have heard of literary men living in garrets, but not in dingles, whatever philologists may do; I may, therefore, speak out freely. It is only in England that literary men are invariably lick-spittles; on which account, perhaps, they are so despised, even by those who benefit by their dirty services. Look at your fashionable novel writers, he! he! and above all at your newspaper editors, ho! ho!"

"You will, of course, except the editors of the --- from your censure of the last class?" said I.

"Them!" said the man in black; "why, they might serve as models in the dirty trade to all the rest who practise it. See how they bepraise their patrons, the grand Whig nobility, who hope, by raising the cry of liberalism, and by putting themselves at the head of the populace, to come into power shortly. I don't wish to be hard, at present, upon those Whigs," he continued, "for they are playing our game; but a time will come when, not wanting them, we will kick them to a considerable distance: and then, when toleration is no longer the cry, and the Whigs are no longer backed by the populace, see whether the editors of the --- will stand by them; they will prove themselves as expert lick-spittles of despotism as of liberalism. Don't think they will always bespatter the Tories and Austria."

"Well," said I, "I am sorry to find that you entertain so low an opinion of the spirit of English literary men; we will now return, if you please, to the subject of the middle classes; I think your strictures upon them in general are rather too sweeping--they are not altogether the foolish people which you have described. Look, for example, at that very powerful and numerous body the Dissenters, the descendants of those sturdy Patriots who hurled Charles the Simple from his throne."

"There are some sturdy fellows amongst them, I do not deny," said the man in black, "especially amongst the preachers, clever withal--two or three of that class nearly drove Mr. Platitude mad, as perhaps you are aware, but they are not very numerous; and the old sturdy sort of preachers are fast dropping off, and, as we observe with pleasure, are generally succeeded by frothy coxcombs, whom it would not be very difficult to gain over. But what we most rely upon as an instrument to bring the Dissenters over to us is the mania for gentility, which amongst them has of late become as great, and more ridiculous, than amongst the middle classes belonging to the Church of England. All the plain and simple fashions of their forefathers they are either about to abandon, or have already done so. Look at the most part of their chapels, no longer modest brick edifices, situated in quiet and retired streets, but lunatic- looking erections, in what the simpletons call the modern Gothic taste, of Portland stone, with a cross upon the top, and the site generally the most conspicuous that can be found; and look at the manner in which they educate their children, I mean those that are wealthy. They do not even wish them to be Dissenters, 'the sweet dears shall enjoy the advantages of good society, of which their parents were debarred'. So the girls are sent to tip-top boarding-schools, where amongst other trash they read Rokeby, and are taught to sing snatches from that high-flying ditty the 'Cavalier ---'

'Would you match the base Skippon, and Massey, and Brown, With the barons of England, who fight for the crown?'

he! he! their own names. Whilst the lads are sent to those hot-beds of pride and folly--colleges, whence they return with a greater contempt for everything 'low,' and especially for their own pedigree, than they went with. I tell you, friend, the children of Dissenters, if not their parents, are going over to the church, as you call it, and the church is going over to Rome."

"I do not see the justice of that latter assertion at all," said I; "some of the Dissenters' children may be coming over to the Church of England, and yet the Church of England be very far from going over to Rome."

"In the high road for it, I assure you," said the man in black, "part of it is going to abandon, the rest to lose, their prerogative, and when a church no longer retains its prerogative, it speedily loses its own respect, and that of others."

"Well," said I, "if the higher classes have all the vices and follies which you represent, on which point I can say nothing, as I have never mixed with them; and even supposing the middle classes are the foolish beings you would fain make them, and which I do not believe them as a body to be, you would still find some resistance amongst the lower classes; I have a considerable respect for their good sense and independence of character, but pray let me hear your opinion of them."

"As for the lower classes," said the man in black, "I believe them to be the most brutal wretches in the world, the most addicted to foul feeding, foul language, and foul vices of every kind; wretches who have neither love for country, religion, nor anything save their own vile selves. You surely do not think that they would oppose a change of religion? why, there is not one of them but would hurrah for the Pope, or Mahomet, for the sake of a hearty gorge and a drunken bout, like those which they are treated with at election contests."

"Has your church any followers amongst them?" said I.

"Wherever there happens to be a Romish family of considerable possessions," said the man in black, "our church is sure to have followers of the lower class, who have come over in the hope of getting something in the shape of dole or donation. As, however, the Romish is not yet the dominant religion, and the clergy of the English establishment have some patronage to bestow, the churches are not quite deserted by the lower classes; yet were the Romish to become the established religion, they would, to a certainty, all go over to it; you can scarcely imagine what a self-interested set they are--for example, the landlord of that public-house in which I first met you, having lost a sum of money upon a cock-fight, and his affairs in consequence being in a bad condition, is on the eve of coming over to us, in the hope that two old Popish females of property, whom I confess, will advance a sum of money to set him up again in the world."

"And what could have put such an idea into the poor fellow's head?" said I.

"Oh! he and I have had some conversation upon the state of his affairs," said the man in black; "I think he might make a rather useful convert in these parts, provided things take a certain turn, as they doubtless will. It is no bad thing to have a fighting fellow, who keeps a public-house, belonging to one's religion. He has been occasionally employed as a bully at elections by the Tory party, and he may serve us in the same capacity. The fellow comes of a good stock; I heard him say that his father headed the High Church mob, who sacked and burnt Priestley's house at Birmingham towards the end of the last century."

"A disgraceful affair," said I.

"What do you mean by a disgraceful affair?" said the man in black. "I assure you that nothing has occurred for the last fifty years which has given the High Church party so much credit in the eyes of Rome as that; we did not imagine that the fellows had so much energy. Had they followed up that affair by twenty others of a similar kind, they would by this time have had everything in their own power; but they did not, and, as a necessary consequence, they are reduced to almost nothing."

"I suppose," said I, "that your church would have acted very differently in its place."

"It has always done so," said the man in black, coolly sipping. "Our church has always armed the brute population against the genius and intellect of a country, provided that same intellect and genius were not willing to become its instruments and eulogists; and provided we once obtain a firm hold here again, we would not fail to do so. We would occasionally stuff the beastly rabble with horseflesh and bitter ale, and then halloo them on against all those who were obnoxious to us."

"Horseflesh and bitter ale!" I replied.

"Yes," said the man in black; "horseflesh and bitter ale, the favourite delicacies of their Saxon ancestors, who were always ready to do our bidding after a liberal allowance of such cheer. There is a tradition in our church, that before the Northumbrian rabble, at the instigation of Austin, attacked and massacred the presbyterian monks of Bangor, they had been allowed a good gorge of horseflesh and bitter ale. He! he! he!" continued the man in black, "what a fine spectacle to see such a mob, headed by a fellow like our friend, the landlord, sack the house of another Priestley!"

"Then you don't deny that we have had a Priestley," said I, "and admit the possibility of our having another? You were lately observing that all English literary men were sycophants?"

"Lick-spittles," said the man in black; "yes, I admit that you have had a Priestley, but he was a Dissenter of the old sort; you have had him, and perhaps may have another."

"Perhaps we may," said I. "But with respect to the lower classes, have you mixed much with them?"

"I have mixed with all classes," said the man in black, "and with the lower not less than the upper and middle, they are much as I have described them; and of the three, the lower are the worst. I never knew one of them that possessed the slightest principle, no, not--. It is true, there was one fellow whom I once met, who--, but it is a long story, and the affair happened abroad."

"I ought to know something of the English people," he continued, after a moment's pause; "I have been many years amongst them labouring in the cause of the church."

"Your see must have had great confidence in your powers, when it selected you to labour for it in these parts?" said I.

"They chose me," said the man in black, "principally because being of British extraction and education, I could speak the English language and bear a glass of something strong. It is the opinion of my see, that it would hardly do to send a missionary into a country like this who is not well versed in English; a country where they think, so far from understanding any language besides his own, scarcely one individual in ten speaks his own intelligibly; or an ascetic person, where as they say, high and low, male and female, are, at some period of their lives, fond of a renovating glass, as it is styled, in other words, of tippling."

"Your see appears to entertain a very strange opinion of the English," said I.

"Not altogether an unjust one," said the man in black, lifting the glass to his mouth.

"Well," said I, "it is certainly very kind on its part to wish to bring back such a set of beings beneath its wing."

"Why, as to the kindness of my see," said the man in black, "I have not much to say; my see has generally in what it does a tolerably good motive; these heretics possess in plenty what my see has a great hankering for, and can turn to a good account--money!"

"The founder of the Christian religion cared nothing for money," said I.

"What have we to do with what the founder of the Christian religion cared for?" said the man in black; "how could our temples be built, and our priests supported without money? but you are unwise to reproach us with a desire of obtaining money; you forget that your own church, if the Church of England be your own church, as I suppose it is, from the willingness which you displayed in the public-house to fight for it, is equally avaricious; look at your greedy Bishops, and your corpulent Rectors; do they imitate Christ in His disregard for money? Go to! you might as well tell me that they imitate Christ in His meekness and humility."

"Well," said I, "whatever their faults may be, you can't say that they go to Rome for money."

The man in black made no direct answer, but appeared by the motion of his lips to be repeating something to himself.

"I see your glass is again empty," said I; "perhaps you will replenish it."

The man in black arose from his seat, adjusted his habiliments, which were rather in disorder, and placed upon his head his hat, which he had laid aside, then, looking at me, who was still lying on the ground, he said: "I might, perhaps, take another glass, though I believe I have had quite as much as I can well bear; but I do not wish to hear you utter anything more this evening after that last observation of yours--it is quite original; I will meditate upon it on my pillow this night after having said an ave and a pater--go to Rome for money!" He then made Belle a low bow, slightly motioned to me with his hand as if bidding farewell, and then left the dingle with rather uneven steps.

"Go to Rome for money," I heard him say as he ascended the winding path, "he! he! he! Go to Rome for money, ho! ho! ho!"

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Chapter XCV

Nearly three days elapsed without anything of particular moment occurring. Belle drove the little cart containing her merchandise about the neighbourhood, returning to the dingle towards the evening. As for myself, I kept within my wooded retreat, working during the periods of her absence leisurely at my forge. Having observed that the quadruped which my companion drove was as much in need of shoes as my own had been some time previously, I had determined to provide it with a set, and during the aforesaid periods occupied myself in preparing them. As I was employed three mornings and afternoons about them, I am sure that the reader will agree that I worked leisurely, or rather lazily. On the third day Belle arrived somewhat later than usual; I was lying on my back at the bottom of the dingle, employed in tossing up the shoes, which I had produced, and catching them as they fell, some being always in the air mounting or descending, somewhat after the fashion of the waters of a fountain.

"Why have you been absent so long?" said I to Belle, "it must be long past four by the day."

"I have been almost killed by the heat," said Belle; "I was never out in a more sultry day--the poor donkey, too, could scarcely move along."

"He shall have fresh shoes," said I, continuing my exercise; "here they are, quite ready; to-morrow I will tack them on."

"And why are you playing with them in that manner?" said Belle.

"Partly in triumph at having made them, and partly to show that I can do something besides making them; it is not every one who, after having made a set of horse-shoes, can keep them going up and down in the air, without letting one fall."

"One has now fallen on your chin," said Belle.

"And another on my cheek," said I, getting up; "it is time to discontinue the game, for the last shoe drew blood."

Belle went to her own little encampment; and as for myself, after having flung the donkey's shoes into my tent, I put some fresh wood on the fire, which was nearly out, and hung the kettle over it. I then issued forth from the dingle, and strolled round the wood that surrounded it; for a long time I was busied in meditation, looking at the ground, striking with my foot, half unconsciously, the tufts of grass and thistles that I met in my way. After some time, I lifted up my eyes to the sky, at first vacantly, and then with more attention, turning my head in all directions for a minute or two; after which I returned to the dingle. Isopel was seated near the fire, over which the kettle was now hung; she had changed her dress--no signs of the dust and fatigue of her late excursion remained; she had just added to the fire a small billet of wood, two or three of which I had left beside it; the fire cracked, and a sweet odour filled the dingle.

"I am fond of sitting by a wood fire," said Belle, "when abroad, whether it be hot or cold; I love to see the flames dart out of the wood; but what kind is this, and where did you get it?"

"It is ash," said I, "green ash. Somewhat less than a week ago, whilst I was wandering along the road by the side of a wood, I came to a place where some peasants were engaged in cutting up and clearing away a confused mass of fallen timber: a mighty-aged oak had given way the night before, and in its fall had shivered some smaller trees; the upper part of the oak, and the fragments of the rest, lay across the road. I purchased, for a trifle, a bundle or two, and the wood on the fire is part of it--ash, green ash."

"That makes good the old rhyme," said Belle, "which I have heard sung by the old woman in the great house:--

'Ash, when green, Is fire for a queen.'"

"And on fairer form of queen, ash fire never shone," said I, "than on thine, O beauteous queen of the dingle."

"I am half disposed to be angry with you, young man," said Belle.

"And why not entirely?" said I.

Belle made no reply.

"Shall I tell you?" I demanded. "You had no objection to the first part of the speech, but you did not like being called queen of the dingle. Well, if I had the power, I would make you queen of something better than the dingle--Queen of China. Come, let us have tea."

"Something less would content me," said Belle, sighing, as she rose to prepare our evening meal.

So we took tea together, Belle and I. "How delicious tea is after a hot summer's day, and a long walk," said she.

"I dare say it is most refreshing then," said I; "but I have heard people say that they most enjoy it on a cold winter's night, when the kettle is hissing on the fire, and their children playing on the hearth."

Belle sighed. "Where does tea come from?" she presently demanded.

"From China," said I; "I just now mentioned it, and the mention of it put me in mind of tea."

"What kind of country is China?"

"I know very little about it; all I know is, that it is a very large country far to the East, but scarcely large enough to contain its inhabitants, who are so numerous, that though China does not cover one- ninth part of the world, its inhabitants amount to one-third of the population of the world."

"And do they talk as we do?"

"Oh no! I know nothing of their language; but I have heard that it is quite different from all others, and so difficult that none but the cleverest people amongst foreigners can master it, on which account, perhaps, only the French pretend to know anything about it."

"Are the French so very clever, then?" said Belle.

"They say there are no people like them, at least in Europe. But talking of Chinese reminds me that I have not for some time past given you a lesson in Armenian. The word for tea in Armenian is--by-the-bye, what is the Armenian word for tea?"

"That's your affair, not mine," said Belle; "it seems hard that the master should ask the scholar."

"Well," said I, "whatever the word may be in Armenian, it is a noun; and as we have never yet declined an Armenian noun together, we may as well take this opportunity of declining one. Belle, there are ten declensions in Armenian!"

"What's a declension?"

"The way of declining a noun."

"Then, in the civilest way imaginable, I decline the noun. Is that a declension?"

"You should never play on words; to do so is low vulgar, smelling of the pothouse, the workhouse. Belle, I insist on your declining an Armenian noun."

"I have done so already," said Belle.

"If you go on in this way," said I, "I shall decline taking any more tea with you. Will you decline an Armenian noun?"

"I don't like the language," said Belle. "If you must teach me languages, why not teach me French or Chinese?"

"I know nothing of Chinese; and as for French, none but a Frenchman is clever enough to speak it--to say nothing of teaching; no, we will stick to Armenian, unless, indeed, you would prefer Welsh!"

"Welsh, I have heard, is vulgar," said Belle; "so, if I must learn one of the two, I will prefer Armenian, which I never heard of till you mentioned it to me; though of the two, I really think Welsh sounds best."

"The Armenian noun," said I, "which I propose for your declension this night, is . . . which signifieth Master."

"I neither like the word nor the sound," said Belle.

"I can't help that," said I; "it is the word I choose; Master, with all its variations, being the first noun, the sound of which I would have you learn from my lips. Come, let us begin--

"A master . . . Of a master, etc. Repeat--"

"I am not much used to say the word," said Belle. "But, to oblige you, I will decline it as you wish;" and thereupon Belle declined master in Armenian.

"You have declined the noun very well," said I; "that is in the singular number; we will now go to the plural."

"What is the plural?" said Belle.

"That which implies more than one, for example, masters; you shall now go through masters in Armenian."

"Never," said Belle, "never; it is bad to have one master, but more I would never bear, whether in Armenian or English."

"You do not understand," said I; "I merely want you to decline masters in Armenian."

"I do decline them; I will have nothing to do with them, nor with master either; I was wrong to--What sound is that?"

"I did not hear it, but I daresay it is thunder; in Armenian--"

"Never mind what it is in Armenian; but why do you think it is thunder?"

"Ere I returned from my stroll, I looked up into the heavens, and by their appearance I judged that a storm was nigh at hand."

"And why did you not tell me so?"

"You never asked me about the state of the atmosphere, and I am not in the habit of giving my opinion to people on any subject, unless questioned. But, setting that aside, can you blame me for not troubling you with forebodings about storm and tempest, which might have prevented the pleasure you promised yourself in drinking tea, or perhaps a lesson in Armenian, though you pretend to dislike the latter."

"My dislike is not pretended," said Belle; "I hate the sound of it, but I love my tea, and it was kind of you not to wish to cast a cloud over my little pleasures; the thunder came quite time enough to interrupt it without being anticipated--there is another peal--I will clear away, and see that my tent is in a condition to resist the storm, and I think you had better bestir yourself."

Isopel departed, and I remained seated on my stone, as nothing belonging to myself required any particular attention; in about a quarter of an hour she returned, and seated herself upon her stool.

"How dark the place is become since I left you," said she; "just as if night were just at hand."

"Look up at the sky," said I, "and you will not wonder; it is all of a deep olive. The wind is beginning to rise; hark how it moans among the branches; and see how their tops are bending--it brings dust on its wings--I felt some fall on my face; and what is this, a drop of rain?"

"We shall have plenty anon," said Belle; "do you hear? it already begins to hiss upon the embers; that fire of ours will soon be extinguished."

"It is not probable that we shall want it," said I, "but we had better seek shelter; let us go into my tent."

"Go in," said Belle, "but you go in alone; as for me, I will seek my own."

"You are right," said I, "to be afraid of me; I have taught you to decline master in Armenian."

"You almost tempt me," said Belle, "to make you decline mistress in English."

"To make matters short," said I, "I decline a mistress."

"What do you mean?" said Belle angrily.

"I have merely done what you wished me," said I, "and in your own style; there is no other way of declining anything in English, for in English there are no declensions."

"The rain is increasing," said Belle.

"It is so," said I; "I shall go to my tent; you may come, if you please; I do assure you I am not afraid of you."

"Nor I of you," said Belle; "so I will come. Why should I be afraid? I can take my own part; that is--"

We went into the tent and sat down, and now the rain began to pour with vehemence. "I hope we shall not be flooded in this hollow," said I to Belle. "There is no fear of that," said Belle: "the wandering people, amongst other names, call it the dry hollow. I believe there is a passage somewhere or other by which the wet is carried off. There must be a cloud right above us, it is so dark. Oh! what a flash!"

"And what a peal," said I; "that is what the Hebrews call Koul Adonai--the voice of the Lord. Are you afraid?"

"No," said Belle, "I rather like to hear it."

"You are right," said I; "I am fond of the sound of thunder myself. There is nothing like it; Koul Adonai behadar; the voice of the Lord is a glorious voice, as the prayer-book version hath it."

"There is something awful in it," said Belle; "and then the lightning, the whole dingle is now in a blaze."

"'The voice of the Lord maketh the hinds to calve, and discovereth the thick bushes.' As you say, there is something awful in thunder."

"There are all kinds of noises above us," said Belle; "surely I heard the crashing of a tree?"

"'The voice of the Lord breaketh the cedar trees,'" said I, "but what you hear is caused by a convulsion of the air; during a thunderstorm there are occasionally all kinds of aerial noises. Ab Gwilym, who, next to King David, has best described a thunderstorm, speaks of these aerial noises in the following manner:--

'Astonied now I stand at strains, As of ten thousand clanking chains; And once, methought, that overthrown, The welkin's oaks came whelming down; Upon my head up starts my hair: Why hunt abroad the hounds of air? What cursed hag is screeching high, Whilst crash goes all her crockery?'

You would hardly believe, Belle, that though I offered at least ten thousand lines nearly as good as those to the booksellers in London, the simpletons were so blind to their interest as to refuse purchasing them."

"I don't wonder at it," said Belle, "especially if such dreadful expressions frequently occur as that towards the end; surely that was the crash of a tree?"

"Ah!" said I, "there falls the cedar tree--I mean the sallow; one of the tall trees on the outside of the dingle has been snapped short."

"What a pity," said Belle, "that the fine old oak, which you saw the peasants cutting up, gave way the other night, when scarcely a breath of air was stirring; how much better to have fallen in a storm like this, the fiercest I remember."

"I don't think so," said I; "after braving a thousand tempests, it was meeter for it to fall of itself than to be vanquished at last. But to return to Ab Gwilym's poetry, he was above culling dainty words, and spoke boldly his mind on all subjects. Enraged with the thunder for parting him and Morfydd, he says, at the conclusion of his ode:--

'My curse, O Thunder, cling to thee, For parting my dear pearl and me'."

"You and I shall part; that is, I shall go to my tent if you persist in repeating from him. The man must have been a savage. A poor wood-pigeon has fallen dead."

"Yes," said I, "there he lies just outside the tent; often have I listened to his note when alone in this wilderness. So you do not like Ab Gwilym; what say you to old Gothe:--

'Mist shrouds the night, and rack; Hear, in the woods, what an awful crack! Wildly the owls are flitting, Hark to the pillars splitting Of palaces verdant ever, The branches quiver and sever, The mighty stems are creaking, The poor roots breaking and shrieking, In wild mixt ruin down dashing, O'er one another they're crashing; Whilst 'midst the rocks so hoary, Whirlwinds hurry and worry. Hear'st not, sister--'"

"Hark!" said Belle, "hark!"

"'Hear'st not, sister, a chorus Of voices--?'"

"No," said Belle, "but I hear a voice."

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Chapter XCVI

I listened attentively, but I could hear nothing but the loud clashing of branches, the pattering of rain, and the muttered growl of thunder. I was about to tell Belle that she must have been mistaken, when I heard a shout, indistinct it is true, owing to the noises aforesaid, from some part of the field above the dingle. "I will soon see what's the matter," said I to Belle, starting up. "I will go, too," said the girl. "Stay where you are," said I; "if I need you, I will call;" and, without waiting for any answer, I hurried to the mouth of the dingle. I was about a few yards only from the top of the ascent, when I beheld a blaze of light, from whence I knew not; the next moment there was a loud crash, and I appeared involved in a cloud of sulphurous smoke. "Lord have mercy upon us," I heard a voice say, and methought I heard the plunging and struggling of horses. I had stopped short on hearing the crash, for I was half stunned; but I now hurried forward, and in a moment stood upon the plain. Here I was instantly aware of the cause of the crash and the smoke. One of those balls, generally called fireballs, had fallen from the clouds, and was burning on the plain at a short distance; and the voice which I had heard, and the plunging, were as easily accounted for. Near the left-hand corner of the grove which surrounded the dingle, and about ten yards from the fire-ball, I perceived a chaise, with a postillion on the box, who was making efforts, apparently useless, to control his horses, which were kicking and plunging in the highest degree of excitement. I instantly ran towards the chaise, in order to offer what help was in my power. "Help me," said the poor fellow, as I drew nigh; but, before I could reach the horses, they had turned rapidly round, one of the fore-wheels flew from its axle-tree, the chaise was overset, and the postillion flung violently from his seat upon the field. The horses now became more furious than before, kicking desperately, and endeavouring to disengage themselves from the fallen chaise. As I was hesitating whether to run to the assistance of the postillion, or endeavour to disengage the animals, I heard the voice of Belle exclaiming: "See to the horses, I will look after the man". She had, it seems, been alarmed by the crash which accompanied the fire-bolt, and had hurried up to learn the cause. I forthwith seized the horses by the heads, and used all the means I possessed to soothe and pacify them, employing every gentle modulation of which my voice was capable. Belle, in the meantime, had raised up the man, who was much stunned by his fall; but presently recovering his recollection to a certain degree, he came limping to me, holding his hand to his right thigh. "The first thing that must now be done," said I, "is to free these horses from the traces; can you undertake to do so?" "I think I can," said the man, looking at me somewhat stupidly. "I will help," said Belle, and without loss of time laid hold of one of the traces. The man, after a short pause, also set to work, and in a few minutes the horses were extricated. "Now," said I to the man, "what is next to be done?" "I don't know," said he; "indeed, I scarcely know anything; I have been so frightened by this horrible storm, and so shaken by my fall." "I think," said I, "that the storm is passing away, so cast your fears away too; and as for your fall, you must bear it as lightly as you can. I will tie the horses amongst those trees, and then we will all betake us to the hollow below." "And what's to become of my chaise?" said the postillion, looking ruefully on the fallen vehicle. "Let us leave the chaise for the present," said I; "we can be of no use to it." "I don't like to leave my chaise lying on the ground in this weather," said the man; "I love my chaise, and him whom it belongs to." "You are quite right to be fond of yourself," said I, "on which account I advise you to seek shelter from the rain as soon as possible." "I was not talking of myself," said the man, "but my master, to whom the chaise belongs." "I thought you called the chaise yours," said I. "That's my way of speaking," said the man; "but the chaise is my master's, and a better master does not live. Don't you think we could manage to raise up the chaise?" "And what is to become of the horses?" said I. "I love my horses well enough," said the man; "but they will take less harm than the chaise. We two can never lift up that chaise." "But we three can," said Belle; "at least, I think so; and I know where to find two poles which will assist us." "You had better go to the tent," said I, "you will be wet through." "I care not for a little wetting," said Belle; "moreover, I have more gowns than one--see you after the horses." Thereupon, I led the horses past the mouth of the dingle, to a place where a gap in the hedge afforded admission to the copse or plantation, on the southern side. Forcing them through the gap, I led them to a spot amidst the trees, which I deemed would afford them the most convenient place for standing; then, darting down into the dingle, I brought up a rope, and also the halter of my own nag, and with these fastened them each to a separate tree in the best manner I could. This done, I returned to the chaise and the postillion. In a minute or two Belle arrived with two poles, which, it seems, had long been lying, overgrown with brushwood, in a ditch or hollow behind the plantation. With these both she and I set to work in endeavouring to raise the fallen chaise from the ground.

We experienced considerable difficulty in this undertaking; at length, with the assistance of the postillion, we saw our efforts crowned with success--the chaise was lifted up, and stood upright on three wheels.

"We may leave it here in safety," said I, "for it will hardly move away on three wheels, even supposing it could run by itself; I am afraid there is work here for a wheelwright, in which case I cannot assist you; if you were in need of a blacksmith it would be otherwise." "I don't think either the wheel or the axle is hurt," said the postillion, who had been handling both; "it is only the linch-pin having dropped out that caused the wheel to fly off; if I could but find the linch-pin! though, perhaps, it fell out a mile away." "Very likely," said I; "but never mind the linch-pin, I can make you one, or something that will serve: but I can't stay here any longer, I am going to my place below with this young gentlewoman, and you had better follow us." "I am ready," said the man; and after lifting up the wheel and propping it against the chaise, he went with us, slightly limping, and with his hand pressed to his thigh.

As we were descending the narrow path, Belle leading the way, and myself the last of the party, the postillion suddenly stopped short, and looked about him. "Why do you stop?" said I. "I don't wish to offend you," said the man; "but this seems to be a strange place you are leading me into; I hope you and the young gentlewoman, as you call her, don't mean me any harm--you seemed in a great hurry to bring me here." "We wished to get you out of the rain," said I, "and ourselves too; that is, if we can, which I rather doubt, for the canvas of a tent is slight shelter in such a rain; but what harm should we wish to do you?" "You may think I have money," said the man, "and I have some, but only thirty shillings, and for a sum like that it would be hardly worth while to--" "Would it not?" said I; "thirty shillings, after all, are thirty shillings, and for what I know, half a dozen throats may have been cut in this place for that sum at the rate of five shillings each; moreover, there are the horses, which would serve to establish this young gentlewoman and myself in housekeeping, provided we were thinking of such a thing." "Then I suppose I have fallen into pretty hands," said the man, putting himself in a posture of defence; "but I'll show no craven heart; and if you attempt to lay hands on me, I'll try to pay you in your own coin. I'm rather lamed in the leg, but I can still use my fists; so come on both of you, man and woman, if woman this be, though she looks more like a grenadier."

"Let me hear no more of this nonsense," said Belle; "if you are afraid, you can go back to your chaise--we only seek to do you a kindness."

"Why, he was just now talking of cutting throats," said the man. "You brought it on yourself," said Belle; "you suspected us, and he wished to pass a joke upon you; he would not hurt a hair of your head, were your coach laden with gold, nor would I." "Well," said the man, "I was wrong--here's my hand to both of you," shaking us by the hands; "I'll go with you where you please, but I thought this a strange, lonesome place, though I ought not much to mind strange, lonesome places, having been in plenty of such when I was a servant in Italy, without coming to any harm--come, let us move on, for 'tis a shame to keep you two in the rain."

So we descended the path which led into the depths of the dingle; at the bottom I conducted the postillion to my tent, which, though the rain dripped and trickled through it, afforded some shelter; there I bade him sit down on the log of wood, while I placed myself as usual on my stone. Belle in the meantime had repaired to her own place of abode. After a little time, I produced a bottle of the cordial of which I have previously had occasion to speak, and made my guest take a considerable draught. I then offered him some bread and cheese, which he accepted with thanks. In about an hour the rain had much abated: "What do you now propose to do?" said I. "I scarcely know," said the man; "I suppose I must endeavour to put on the wheel with your help." "How far are you from your home?" I demanded. "Upwards of thirty miles," said the man; "my master keeps an inn on the great north road, and from thence I started early this morning with a family which I conveyed across the country to a hall at some distance from here. On my return I was beset by the thunderstorm, which frightened the horses, who dragged the chaise off the road to the field above, and overset it as you saw. I had proposed to pass the night at an inn about twelve miles from here on my way back, though how I am to get there to-night I scarcely know, even if we can put on the wheel, for, to tell you the truth, I am shaken by my fall, and the smoulder and smoke of that fire-ball have rather bewildered my head; I am, moreover, not much acquainted with the way."

"The best thing you can do," said I, "is to pass the night here; I will presently light a fire, and endeavour to make you comfortable--in the morning we will see to your wheel." "Well," said the man, "I shall be glad to pass the night here, provided I do not intrude, but I must see to the horses." Thereupon I conducted the man to the place where the horses were tied. "The trees drip very much upon them," said the man, "and it will not do for them to remain here all night; they will be better out on the field picking the grass, but first of all they must have a good feed of corn;" thereupon he went to his chaise, from which he presently brought two small bags, partly filled with corn; into them he inserted the mouths of the horses, tying them over their heads. "Here we will leave them for a time," said the man; "when I think they have had enough, I will come back, tie their fore-legs, and let them pick about."

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Chapter XCVII

It might be about ten o'clock at night. Belle, the postillion, and myself, sat just within the tent, by a fire of charcoal which I had kindled in the chafing-pan. The man had removed the harness from his horses, and, after tethering their legs, had left them for the night in the field above, to regale themselves on what grass they could find. The rain had long since entirely ceased, and the moon and stars shone bright in the firmament, up to which, putting aside the canvas, I occasionally looked from the depths of the dingle. Large drops of water, however, falling now and then upon the tent from the neighbouring trees, would have served, could we have forgotten it, to remind us of the recent storm, and also a certain chilliness in the atmosphere, unusual to the season, proceeding from the moisture with which the ground was saturated; yet these circumstances only served to make our party enjoy the charcoal fire the more. There we sat bending over it: Belle, with her long beautiful hair streaming over her magnificent shoulders; the postillion smoking his pipe, in his shirt-sleeves and waistcoat, having flung aside his greatcoat, which had sustained a thorough wetting; and I without my wagoner's slop, of which, it being in the same plight, I had also divested myself.

The new comer was a well-made fellow of about thirty, with an open and agreeable countenance. I found him very well informed for a man in his station, and with some pretensions to humour. After we had discoursed for some time on indifferent subjects, the postillion, who had exhausted his pipe, took it from his mouth, and, knocking out the ashes upon the ground, exclaimed: "I little thought, when I got up in the morning, that I should spend the night in such agreeable company, and after such a fright".

"Well," said I, "I am glad that your opinion of us has improved; it is not long since you seemed to hold us in rather a suspicious light."

"And no wonder," said the man, "seeing the place you were taking me to. I was not a little, but very much afraid of ye both; and so I continued for some time, though, not to show a craven heart, I pretended to be quite satisfied; but I see I was altogether mistaken about ye. I thought you vagrant Gypsy folks and trampers; but now--"

"Vagrant Gypsy folks and trampers," said I; "and what are we but people of that stamp?"

"Oh," said the postillion, "if you wish to be thought such, I am far too civil a person to contradict you, especially after your kindness to me, but--"

"But!" said I; "what do you mean by but? I would have you to know that I am proud of being a travelling blacksmith: look at these donkey-shoes, I finished them this day."

The postillion took the shoes and examined them. "So you made these shoes?" he cried at last.

"To be sure I did; do you doubt it?"

"Not in the least," said the man.

"Ah! ah!" said I, "I thought I should bring you back to your original opinion. I am, then, a vagrant Gypsy body, a tramper, a wandering blacksmith."

"Not a blacksmith, whatever else you may be," said the postillion laughing.

"Then how do you account for my making those shoes?"

"By your not being a blacksmith," said the postillion; "no blacksmith would have made shoes in that manner. Besides, what did you mean just now by saying you had finished these shoes to-day? a real blacksmith would have flung off three or four sets of donkey shoes in one morning, but you, I will be sworn, have been hammering at these for days, and they do you credit, but why? because you are no blacksmith; no, friend, your shoes may do for this young gentlewoman's animal, but I shouldn't like to have my horses shod by you, unless at a great pinch indeed."

"Then," said I, "for what do you take me?"

"Why, for some runaway young gentleman," said the postillion. "No offence, I hope?"

"None at all; no one is offended at being taken or mistaken for a young gentleman, whether runaway or not; but from whence do you suppose I have run away?"

"Why, from college," said the man: "no offence?"

"None whatever; and what induced me to run away from college?"

"A love affair, I'll be sworn," said the postillion. "You had become acquainted with this young gentlewoman, so she and you--"

"Mind how you get on, friend," said Belle, in a deep serious tone.

"Pray proceed," said I; "I dare say you mean no offence."

"None in the world," said the postillion; "all I was going to say was that you agreed to run away together, you from college, and she from boarding-school. Well, there's nothing to be ashamed of in a matter like that, such things are done every day by young folks in high life."

"Are you offended?" said I to Belle.

Belle made no answer; but, placing her elbows on her knees buried her face in her hands.

"So we ran away together?" said I.

"Ay, ay," said the postillion, "to Gretna Green, though I can't say that I drove ye, though I have driven many a pair."

"And from Gretna Green we came here?"

"I'll be bound you did," said the man, "till you could arrange matters at home."

"And the horse-shoes?" said I.

"The donkey-shoes, you mean," answered the postillion; "why, I suppose you persuaded the blacksmith who married you to give you, before you left, a few lessons in his trade."

"And we intend to stay here till we have arranged matters at home?"

"Ay, ay," said the postillion, "till the old people are pacified and they send you letters directed to the next post town, to be left till called for, beginning with, 'Dear children,' and enclosing you each a cheque for one hundred pounds, when you will leave this place, and go home in a coach like gentlefolks, to visit your governors; I should like nothing better than to have the driving of you: and then there will be a grand meeting of the two families, and after a few reproaches, the old people will agree to do something handsome for the poor thoughtless things; so you will have a genteel house taken for you, and an annuity allowed you. You won't get much the first year, five hundred at the most, in order that the old folks may let you feel that they are not altogether satisfied with you, and that you are yet entirely in their power; but the second, if you don't get a cool thousand, may I catch cold, especially should young madam here present a son and heir for the old people to fondle, destined one day to become sole heir of the two illustrious houses, and then all the grand folks in the neighbourhood, who have, bless their prudent hearts! kept rather aloof from you till then, for fear you should want anything from them--I say, all the carriage people in the neighbourhood, when they see how swimmingly matters are going on, will come in shoals to visit you."

"Really," said I, "you are getting on swimmingly."

"Oh," said the postillion, "I was not a gentleman's servant nine years without learning the ways of gentry, and being able to know gentry when I see them."

"And what do you say to all this?" I demanded of Belle.

"Stop a moment," interposed the postillion, "I have one more word to say: and when you are surrounded by your comforts, keeping your nice little barouche and pair, your coachman and livery servant, and visited by all the carriage people in the neighbourhood--to say nothing of the time when you come to the family estates on the death of the old people--I shouldn't wonder if now and then you look back with longing and regret to the days when you lived in the damp, dripping dingle, had no better equipage than a pony or donkey cart, and saw no better company than a tramper or Gypsy, except once, when a poor postillion was glad to seat himself at your charcoal fire."

"Pray," said I, "did you ever take lessons in elocution?"

"Not directly," said the postillion; "but my old master who was in Parliament, did, and so did his son, who was intended to be an orator. A great professor used to come and give them lessons, and I used to stand and listen, by which means I picked up a considerable quantity of what is called rhetoric. In what I last said, I was aiming at what I have heard him frequently endeavouring to teach my governors as a thing indispensably necessary in all oratory, a graceful pere--pere--peregrination."

"Peroration, perhaps?"

"Just so," said the postillion; "and now I am sure I am not mistaken about you; you have taken lessons yourself, at first hand, in the college vacations, and a promising pupil you were, I make no doubt. Well, your friends will be all the happier to get you back. Has your governor much borough interest?"

"I ask you once more," said I, addressing myself to Belle, "what do you think of the history which this good man has made for us?"

"What should I think of it," said Belle, still keeping her face buried in her hands, "but that it is mere nonsense?"

"Nonsense!" said the postillion.

"Yes," said the girl, "and you know it."

"May my leg always ache, if I do," said the postillion, patting his leg with his hand; "will you persuade me that this young man has never been at college?"

"I have never been at college, but--"

"Ay, ay," said the postillion; "but--"

"I have been to the best schools in Britain, to say nothing of a celebrated one in Ireland."

"Well, then, it comes to the same thing," said the postillion; "or perhaps you know more than if you had been at college--and your governor?"

"My governor, as you call him," said I, "is dead."

"And his borough interest?"

"My father had no borough interest," said I; "had he possessed any, he would perhaps not have died as he did, honourably poor."

"No, no," said the postillion; "if he had had borough interest, he wouldn't have been poor, nor honourable, though perhaps a right honourable. However, with your grand education and genteel manners, you made all right at last by persuading this noble young gentlewoman to run away from boarding-school with you."

"I was never at boarding-school," said Belle, "unless you call--"

"Ay, ay," said the postillion, "boarding-school is vulgar, I know: I beg your pardon, I ought to have called it academy, or by some other much finer name--you were in something much greater than a boarding-school."

"There you are right," said Belle, lifting up her head and looking the postillion full in the face by the light of the charcoal fire; "for I was bred in the workhouse."

"Wooh!" said the postillion.

"It is true that I am of good--"

"Ay, ay," said the postillion, "let us hear--"

"Of good blood," continued Belle; "my name is Berners, Isopel Berners, though my parents were unfortunate. Indeed, with respect to blood, I believe I am of better blood than the young man."

"There you are mistaken," said I; "by my father's side I am of Cornish blood, and by my mother's of brave French Protestant extraction. Now, with respect to the blood of my father--and to be descended well on the father's side is the principal thing--it is the best blood in the world, for the Cornish blood, as the proverb says--"

"I don't care what the proverb says," said Belle; "I say my blood is the best--my name is Berners, Isopel Berners--it was my mother's name, and is better, I am sure, than any you bear, whatever that may be; and though you say that the descent on the father's side is the principal thing--and I know why you say so," she added with some excitement--"I say that descent on the mother's side is of most account, because the mother--"

"Just come from Gretna Green, and already quarrelling," said the postillion.

"We do not come from Gretna Green," said Belle.

"Ah, I had forgot," said the postillion, "none but great people go to Gretna Green. Well, then, from church, and already quarrelling about family, just like two great people."

"We have never been to church," said Belle, "and, to prevent any more guessing on your part, it will be as well for me to tell you, friend, that I am nothing to the young man, and he, of course, nothing to me. I am a poor travelling girl, born in a workhouse: journeying on my occasions with certain companions, I came to this hollow, where my company quarrelled with the young man, who had settled down here, as he had a right to do, if he pleased; and not being able to drive him out, they went away after quarrelling with me, too, for not choosing to side with them; so I stayed here along with the young man, there being room for us both, and the place being as free to me as to him."

"And, in order that you may be no longer puzzled with respect to myself," said I, "I will give you a brief outline of my history. I am the son of honourable parents, who gave me a first-rate education, as far as literature and languages went, with which education I endeavoured, on the death of my father, to advance myself to wealth and reputation in the big city; but failing in the attempt, I conceived a disgust for the busy world, and determined to retire from it. After wandering about for some time, and meeting with various adventures, in one of which I contrived to obtain a pony, cart and certain tools, used by smiths and tinkers, I came to this place, where I amused myself with making horse-shoes, or rather pony-shoes, having acquired the art of wielding the hammer and tongs from a strange kind of smith--not him of Gretna Green--whom I knew in my childhood. And here I lived, doing harm to no one, quite lonely and solitary, till one fine morning the premises were visited by this young gentlewoman and her companions. She did herself anything but justice when she said that her companions quarrelled with her because she would not side with them against me; they quarrelled with her, because she came most heroically to my assistance as I was on the point of being murdered; and she forgot to tell you, that after they had abandoned her she stood by me in the dark hour, comforting and cheering me, when unspeakable dread, to which I am occasionally subject, took possession of my mind. She says she is nothing to me, even as I am nothing to her. I am of course nothing to her, but she is mistaken in thinking she is nothing to me. I entertain the highest regard and admiration for her, being convinced that I might search the whole world in vain for a nature more heroic and devoted."

"And for my part," said Belle, with a sob, "a more quiet, agreeable partner in a place like this I would not wish to have; it is true he has strange ways, and frequently puts words into my mouth very difficult to utter; but--but--" and here she buried her face once more in her hands.

"Well," said the postillion, "I have been mistaken about you; that is, not altogether, but in part. You are not rich folks, it seems, but you are not common people, and that I could have sworn. What I call a shame is, that some people I have known are not in your place and you in theirs--you with their estates and borough interest, they in this dingle with these carts and animals; but there is no help for these things. Were I the great Mumbo Jumbo above, I would endeavour to manage matters better; but being a simple postillion, glad to earn three shillings a day, I can't be expected to do much."

"Who is Mumbo Jumbo?" said I.

"Ah!" said the postillion, "I see there may be a thing or two I know better than yourself. Mumbo Jumbo is a god of the black coast, to which people go for ivory and gold."

"Were you ever there?" I demanded.

"No," said the postillion, "but I heard plenty of Mumbo Jumbo when I was a boy."

"I wish you would tell us something about yourself. I believe that your own real history would prove quite as entertaining, if not more, than that which you imagined about us."

"I am rather tired," said the postillion, "and my leg is rather troublesome. I should be glad to try to sleep upon one of your blankets. However, as you wish to hear something about me, I shall be happy to oblige you; but your fire is rather low, and this place is chilly."

Thereupon I arose, and put fresh charcoal on the pan; then taking it outside the tent, with a kind of fan which I had fashioned, I fanned the coals into a red glow, and continued doing so until the greater part of the noxious gas, which the coals are in the habit of exhaling, was exhausted. I then brought it into the tent and reseated myself, scattering over the coals a small portion of sugar. "No bad smell," said the postillion; "but upon the whole I think I like the smell of tobacco better; and with your permission I will once more light my pipe."

Thereupon he relighted his pipe; and after taking two or three whiffs, began in the following manner.

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Chapter XCVIII

"I am a poor postillion, as you see; yet, as I have seen a thing or two, and heard a thing or two of what is going on in the world, perhaps what I have to tell you connected with myself may not prove altogether uninteresting. Now, my friends, this manner of opening a story is what the man who taught rhetoric would call a hex--hex--"

"Exordium," said I.

"Just so," said the postillion; "I treated you to a per--per--peroration some time ago, so that I have contrived to put the cart before the horse, as the Irish orators frequently do in the honourable House, in whose speeches, especially those who have taken lessons in rhetoric, the per--per--what's the word?--frequently goes before the exordium.

"I was born in the neighbouring county; my father was land-steward to a squire of about a thousand a year. My father had two sons, of whom I am the youngest by some years. My elder brother was of a spirited, roving disposition, and for fear that he should turn out what is generally termed ungain, my father determined to send him to sea: so once upon a time, when my brother was about fifteen, he took him to the great sea- port of the county, where he apprenticed him to a captain of one of the ships which trade to the high Barbary coast. Fine ships they were, I have heard say, more than thirty in number, and all belonging to a wonderful great gentleman, who had once been a parish boy, but had contrived to make an immense fortune by trading to that coast for gold dust, ivory and other strange articles; and for doing so, I mean for making a fortune, had been made a knight baronet. So my brother went to the high Barbary shore, on board the fine vessel, and in about a year returned and came to visit us; he repeated the voyage several times, always coming to see his parents on his return. Strange stories he used to tell us of what he had been witness to on the high Barbary coast, both off shore and on. He said that the fine vessel in which he sailed was nothing better than a painted hell; that the captain was a veritable fiend, whose grand delight was in tormenting his men, especially when they were sick, as they frequently were, there being always fever on the high Barbary coast; and that though the captain was occasionally sick himself, his being so made no difference, or rather it did make a difference, though for the worse, he being when sick always more inveterate and malignant than at other times. He said that once, when he himself was sick, his captain had pitched his face all over, which exploit was much applauded by the other high Barbary captains; all of whom, from what my brother said, appeared to be of much the same disposition as my brother's captain, taking wonderful delight in tormenting the crews, and doing all manner of terrible things. My brother frequently said that nothing whatever prevented him from running away from his ship, and never returning, but the hope he entertained of one day being captain himself, and able to torment people in his turn, which he solemnly vowed he would do, as a kind of compensation for what he himself had undergone. And if things were going on in a strange way off the high Barbary shore amongst those who came there to trade, they were going on in a way yet stranger with the people who lived upon it.

"Oh, the strange ways of the black men who lived on that shore, of which my brother used to tell us at home; selling their sons, daughters and servants for slaves, and the prisoners taken in battle, to the Spanish captains, to be carried to Havannah, and when there, sold at a profit, the idea of which, my brother said, went to the hearts of our own captains, who used to say what a hard thing it was that free-born Englishmen could not have a hand in the traffic, seeing that it was forbidden by the laws of their country; talking fondly of the good old times when their forefathers used to carry slaves to Jamaica and Barbadoes, realising immense profit, besides the pleasure of hearing their shrieks on the voyage; and then the superstitions of the blacks, which my brother used to talk of; their sharks' teeth, their wisps of fowls' feathers, their half-baked pots, full of burnt bones, of which they used to make what they called fetish; and bow down to, and ask favours of, and then, perhaps, abuse and strike, provided the senseless rubbish did not give them what they asked for; and then, above all, Mumbo Jumbo, the grand fetish master, who lived somewhere in the woods, and who used to come out every now and then with his fetish companions; a monstrous figure, all wound round with leaves and branches, so as to be quite indistinguishable, and, seating himself on the high seat in the villages, receive homage from the people, and also gifts and offerings, the most valuable of which were pretty damsels, and then betake himself back again, with his followers into the woods. Oh, the tales that my brother used to tell us of the high Barbary shore! Poor fellow! what became of him I can't say; the last time he came back from a voyage, he told us that his captain, as soon as he had brought his vessel to port, and settled with his owner, drowned himself off the quay in a fit of the horrors, which it seems high Barbary captains, after a certain number of years, are much subject to. After staying about a month with us, he went to sea again, with another captain; and bad as the old one had been, it appears the new one was worse, for, unable to bear his treatment, my brother left his ship off the high Barbary shore, and ran away up the country. Some of his comrades, whom we afterwards saw, said that there were various reports about him on the shore; one that he had taken on with Mumbo Jumbo, and was serving him in his house in the woods, in the capacity of swash-buckler, or life-guardsman; another, that he was gone in quest of a mighty city in the heart of the negro country; another, that in swimming a stream he had been devoured by an alligator. Now, these two last reports were bad enough; the idea of their flesh and blood being bit asunder by a ravenous fish, was sad enough to my poor parents; and not very comfortable was the thought of his sweltering over the hot sands in quest of the negro city; but the idea of their son, their eldest child, serving Mumbo Jumbo as swash-buckler, was worst of all, and caused my poor parents to shed many a scalding tear.

"I stayed at home with my parents until I was about eighteen, assisting my father in various ways. I then went to live at the squire's, partly as groom, partly as footman. After living in the country some time, I attended the family in a trip of six weeks, which they made to London. Whilst there, happening to have some words with an old ill-tempered coachman, who had been for a great many years in the family, my master advised me to leave, offering to recommend me to a family of his acquaintance who were in need of a footman. I was glad to accept his offer, and in a few days went to my new place. My new master was one of the great gentry, a baronet in Parliament, and possessed of an estate of about twenty thousand a year; his family consisted of his lady, a son, a fine young man, just coming of age, and two very sweet, amiable daughters. I liked this place much better than my first, there was so much more pleasant noise and bustle--so much more grand company--and so many more opportunities of improving myself. Oh, how I liked to see the grand coaches drive up to the door, with the grand company; and though, amidst that company, there were some who did not look very grand, there were others, and not a few, who did. Some of the ladies quite captivated me; there was the Marchioness of --- in particular. This young lady puts me much in mind of her; it is true, the Marchioness, as I saw her then, was about fifteen years older than this young gentlewoman is now, and not so tall by some inches, but she had the very same hair, and much the same neck and shoulders--no offence, I hope? And then some of the young gentlemen, with their cool, haughty, care-for-nothing looks, struck me as being very fine fellows. There was one in particular, whom I frequently used to stare at, not altogether unlike some one I have seen hereabouts--he had a slight cast in his eye, and but I won't enter into every particular. And then the footmen! Oh, how those footmen helped to improve me with their conversation. Many of them could converse much more glibly than their masters, and appeared to have much better taste. At any rate, they seldom approved of what their masters did. I remember being once with one in the gallery of the play-house, when something of Shakspeare's was being performed; some one in the first tier of boxes was applauding very loudly. 'That's my fool of a governor,' said he; 'he is weak enough to like Shakspeare--I don't--he's so confoundedly low, but he won't last long--going down. Shakspeare culminated'--I think that was the word--'culminated some time ago.'

"And then the professor of elocution, of whom my governors used to take lessons, and of which lessons I had my share, by listening behind the door; but for that professor of elocution I should not be able to round my periods--an expression of his--in the manner I do.

"After I had been three years at this place my mistress died. Her death, however, made no great alteration in my way of living, the family spending their winters in London, and their summers at their old seat in S--- as before. At last, the young ladies, who had not yet got husbands, which was strange enough, seeing, as I told you before, they were very amiable, proposed to our governor a travelling expedition abroad. The old baronet consented, though young master was much against it, saying, they would all be much better at home. As the girls persisted, however, he at last withdrew his opposition, and even promised to follow them, as soon as his parliamentary duties would permit, for he was just got into Parliament; and, like most other young members, thought that nothing could be done in the House without him. So the old gentleman and the two young ladies set off, taking me with them, and a couple of ladies' maids to wait upon them. First of all, we went to Paris, where we continued three months, the old baronet and the ladies going to see the various sights of the city and the neighbourhood, and I attending them. They soon got tired of sight-seeing, and of Paris too; and so did I. However, they still continued there, in order, I believe, that the young ladies might lay in a store of French finery. I should have passed my idle time at Paris, of which I had plenty after the sight-seeing was over, very unpleasantly, but for Black Jack. Eh! did you never hear of Black Jack? Ah! if you had ever been an English servant in Paris, you would have known Black Jack; not an English gentleman's servant who has been at Paris for this last ten years but knows Black Jack and his ordinary. A strange fellow he was--of what country no one could exactly say--for as for judging from speech, that was impossible, Jack speaking all languages equally ill. Some said he came direct from Satan's kitchen, and that when he gives up keeping ordinary, he will return there again, though the generally received opinion at Paris was, that he was at one time butler to King Pharaoh, and that, after lying asleep for four thousand years in a place called the Kattycombs, he was awaked by the sound of Nelson's canon, at the battle of the Nile; and going to the shore took on with the admiral, and became, in course of time, ship steward; and that after Nelson's death, he was captured by the French, on board one of whose vessels he served in a somewhat similar capacity till the peace, when he came to Paris, and set up an ordinary for servants, sticking the name of Katcomb over the door, in allusion to the place where he had his long sleep. But, whatever his origin was, Jack kept his own counsel, and appeared to care nothing for what people said about him, or called him. Yes, I forgot, there was one name he would not be called, and that was Portuguese. I once saw Black Jack knock down a coachman, six foot high, who called him black-faced Portuguese. 'Any name but dat, you shab,' said Black Jack, who was a little round fellow, of about five feet two; 'I would not stand to be called Portuguese by Nelson himself.' Jack was rather fond of talking about Nelson, and hearing people talking about him, so that it is not improbable that he may have sailed with him; and with respect to his having been King Pharaoh's butler, all I have to say is, I am not disposed to give the downright lie to the report. Jack was always ready to do a kind turn to a poor servant out of place, and has often been known to assist such as were in prison, which charitable disposition he perhaps acquired from having lost a good place himself, having seen the inside of a prison, and known the want of a meal's victuals, all which trials King Pharaoh's butler underwent, so he may have been that butler; at any rate, I have known positive conclusions come to, on no better premises, if indeed as good. As for the story of his coming direct from Satan's kitchen, I place no confidence in it at all, as Black Jack had nothing of Satan about him, but blackness, on which account he was called Black Jack. Nor am I disposed to give credit to a report that his hatred of the Portuguese arose from some ill treatment which he had once experienced when on shore, at Lisbon, from certain gentlewomen of the place, but rather conclude that it arose from an opinion he entertained that the Portuguese never paid their debts, one of the ambassadors of that nation, whose house he had served, having left Paris several thousand francs in his debt. This is all that I have to say about Black Jack, without whose funny jokes, and good ordinary, I should have passed my time in Paris in a very disconsolate manner.

"After we had been at Paris between two and three months, we left it in the direction of Italy, which country the family had a great desire to see. After travelling a great many days in a thing which, though called a diligence, did not exhibit much diligence, we came to a great big town, seated around a nasty saltwater basin, connected by a narrow passage with the sea. Here we were to embark; and so we did as soon as possible, glad enough to get away; at least I was, and so I make no doubt were the rest; for such a place for bad smells I never was in. It seems all the drains and sewers of the place run into that same salt basin, voiding into it all their impurities, which, not being able to escape into the sea in any considerable quantity, owing to the narrowness of the entrance, there accumulate, filling the whole atmosphere with these same outrageous scents, on which account the town is a famous lodging-house of the plague. The ship in which we embarked was bound for a place in Italy called Naples, where we were to stay some time. The voyage was rather a lazy one, the ship not being moved by steam; for at the time of which I am speaking, some five years ago, steamships were not so plentiful as now. There were only two passengers in the grand cabin, where my governor and his daughters were, an Italian lady and a priest. Of the lady I have not much to say; she appeared to be a quiet respectable person enough, and after our arrival at Naples, I neither saw nor heard anything more of her; but of the priest I shall have a good deal to say in the sequel (that, by-the-bye, is a word I learnt from the professor of rhetoric), and it would have been well for our family had they never met him.

"On the third day of the voyage the priest came to me, who was rather unwell with sea-sickness, which he, of course, felt nothing of, that kind of people being never affected like others. He was a finish-looking man of about forty-five, but had something strange in his eyes, which I have since thought denoted that all was not right in a certain place called the heart. After a few words of condolence, in a broken kind of English, he asked me various questions about our family; and I, won by his seeming kindness, told him all I knew about them, of which communicativeness I afterwards very much repented. As soon as he had got out of me all he desired, he left me; and I observed that during the rest of the voyage he was wonderfully attentive to our governor, and yet more to the young ladies. Both, however, kept him rather at a distance; the young ladies were reserved, and once or twice I heard our governor cursing him between his teeth for a sharking priest. The priest, however, was not disconcerted, and continued his attentions, which in a little time produced an effect, so that, by the time we landed at Naples, our great folks had conceived a kind of liking for the man, and when they took their leave invited him to visit them, which he promised to do. We hired a grand house or palace at Naples; it belonged to a poor kind of prince, who was glad enough to let it to our governor, and also his servants and carriages; and glad enough were the poor servants, for they got from us what they never got from the prince--plenty of meat and money--and glad enough, I make no doubt, were the horses for the provender we gave them; and I daresay the coaches were not sorry to be cleaned and furbished up. Well, we went out and came in; going to see the sights, and returning. Amongst other things we saw was the burning mountain, and the tomb of a certain sorcerer called Virgilio, who made witch rhymes, by which he could raise the dead. Plenty of people came to see us, both English and Italians, and amongst the rest the priest. He did not come amongst the first, but allowed us to settle and become a little quiet before he showed himself; and after a day or two he paid us another visit, then another, till at last his visits were daily.

"I did not like that Jack Priest; so I kept my eye upon all his motions. Lord! how that Jack Priest did curry favour with our governor and the two young ladies; and he curried, and curried, till he had got himself into favour with the governor, and more especially with the two young ladies, of whom their father was doatingly fond. At last the ladies took lessons in Italian of the priest, a language in which he was said to be a grand proficient, and of which they had hitherto known but very little; and from that time his influence over them, and consequently over the old governor, increased, till the tables were turned, and he no longer curried favour with them, but they with him; yes, as true as my leg aches, the young ladies curried, and the old governor curried favour with that same priest; when he was with them, they seemed almost to hang on his lips, that is, the young ladies; and as for the old governor, he never contradicted him, and when the fellow was absent, which, by-the-bye was not often, it was 'Father so-and-so said this, and Father so-and-so said that; Father so-and-so thinks we should do so-and-so, or that we should not do so-and-so'. I at first thought that he must have given them something, some philtre or the like; but one of the English maid- servants, who had a kind of respect for me, and who saw much more behind the scenes than I did, informed me that he was continually instilling strange notions into their heads, striving, by every possible method, to make them despise the religion of their own land, and take up that of the foreign country in which they were. And sure enough, in a little time, the girls had altogether left off going to an English chapel, and were continually visiting places of Italian worship. The old governor, it is true, still went to his church, but he appeared to be hesitating between two opinions; and once when he was at dinner he said to two or three English friends, that since he had become better acquainted with it, he had conceived a much more favourable opinion of the Catholic religion than he had previously entertained. In a word, the priest ruled the house, and everything was done according to his will and pleasure; by degrees he persuaded the young ladies to drop their English acquaintances, whose place he supplied with Italians, chiefly females. My poor old governor would not have had a person to speak to, for he never could learn the language, but for two or three Englishmen who used to come occasionally and take a bottle with him, in a summer-house, whose company he could not be persuaded to resign, notwithstanding the entreaties of his daughters, instigated by the priest, whose grand endeavour seemed to be to render the minds of all three foolish, for his own ends. And if he was busy above stairs with the governor, there was another busy below with us poor English servants, a kind of subordinate priest, a low Italian; as he could speak no language but his own, he was continually jabbering to us in that, and by hearing him the maids and myself contrived to pick up a good deal of the language, so that we understood most that was said, and could speak it very fairly; and the themes of his jabber were the beauty and virtues of one whom he called Holy Mary, and the power and grandeur of one whom he called the Holy Father; and he told us that we should shortly have an opportunity of seeing the Holy Father, who could do anything he liked with Holy Mary: in the meantime we had plenty of opportunities of seeing Holy Mary, for in every church, chapel and convent to which we were taken, there was an image of Holy Mary, who, if the images were dressed at all in her fashion, must have been very fond of short petticoats and tinsel, and who, if those said figures at all resembled her in face, could scarcely have been half as handsome as either of my two fellow-servants, not to speak of the young ladies.

"Now it happened that one of the female servants was much taken with what she saw and heard, and gave herself up entirely to the will of the subordinate, who had quite as much dominion over her as his superior had over the ladies; the other maid, however, the one who had a kind of respect for me, was not so easily besotted; she used to laugh at what she saw, and at what the fellow told her, and from her I learnt that amongst other things intended by these priestly confederates was robbery; she said that the poor old governor had already been persuaded by his daughters to put more than a thousand pounds into the superior priest's hands for purposes of charity and religion, as was said, and that the subordinate one had already inveigled her fellow-servant out of every penny which she had saved from her wages, and had endeavoured likewise to obtain what money she herself had, but in vain. With respect to myself, the fellow shortly after made an attempt towards obtaining a hundred crowns, of which, by some means, he knew me to be in possession, telling me what a meritorious thing it was to give one's superfluities for the purposes of religion. 'That is true,' said I, 'and if, after my return to my native country, I find I have anything which I don't want myself, I will employ it in helping to build a Methodist chapel.'

"By the time that the three months were expired for which we had hired the palace of the needy Prince, the old governor began to talk of returning to England, at least of leaving Italy. I believe he had become frightened at the calls which were continually being made upon him for money; for after all, you know, if there is a sensitive part of a man's wearing apparel, it is his breeches pocket; but the young ladies could not think of leaving dear Italy and the dear priest; and then they had seen nothing of the country, they had only seen Naples; before leaving dear Italia they must see more of the country and the cities; above all, they must see a place which they called the Eternal City, or by some similar nonsensical name; and they persisted so that the poor governor permitted them, as usual, to have their way; and it was decided what route they should take, that is, the priest was kind enough to decide for them; and was also kind enough to promise to go with them part of the route, as far as a place where there was a wonderful figure of Holy Mary, which the priest said it was highly necessary for them to see before visiting the Eternal City; so we left Naples in hired carriages, driven by fellows they call veturini, cheating, drunken dogs, I remember they were. Besides our own family there was the priest and his subordinate, and a couple of hired lackeys. We were several days upon the journey, travelling through a very wild country, which the ladies pretended to be delighted with, and which the governor cursed on account of the badness of the roads; and when we came to any particularly wild spot we used to stop, in order to enjoy the scenery, as the ladies said; and then we would spread a horse-cloth on the ground, and eat bread and cheese, and drink wine of the country; and some of the holes and corners in which we bivouacked, as the ladies called it, were something like this place where we are now, so that when I came down here it put me in mind of them. At last we arrived at the place where was the holy image.

"We went to the house or chapel in which the holy image was kept, a frightful, ugly black figure of Holy Mary, dressed in her usual way; and after we had stared at the figure, and some of our party had bowed down to it, we were shown a great many things which were called holy relics, which consisted of thumbnails and fore-nails and toe-nails, and hair and teeth, and a feather or two, a mighty thigh-bone, but whether of a man or a camel, I can't say; all of which things I was told, if properly touched and handled, had mighty power to cure all kinds of disorders; and as we went from the holy house, we saw a man in a state of great excitement; he was foaming at the mouth, and cursing the holy image and all its household, because, after he had worshipped it and made offerings to it, and besought it to assist him in a game of chance which he was about to play, it had left him in the lurch, allowing him to lose all his money; and when I thought of all the rubbish I had seen, and the purposes which it was applied to, in conjunction with the rage of the losing gamester at the deaf and dumb image, I could not help comparing the whole with what my poor brother used to tell me of the superstitious practices of the blacks on the high Barbary shore, and their occasional rage and fury at the things they worshipped; and I said to myself, if all this here doesn't smell of fetish may I smell fetid.

"At this place the priest left us, returning to Naples with his subordinate, on some particular business, I suppose. It was, however, agreed that he should visit us at the Holy City. We did not go direct to the Holy City, but bent our course to two or three other cities which the family were desirous of seeing, but as nothing occurred to us in these places of any particular interest, I shall take the liberty of passing them by in silence. At length we arrived at the Eternal City; an immense city it was, looking as if it had stood for a long time, and would stand for a long time still; compared with it, London would look like a mere assemblage of bee-skeps; however, give me the bee-skeps with their merry hum and bustle, and life and honey, rather than that huge town, which looked like a sepulchre, where there was no life, no busy hum, no bees, but a scanty, sallow population, intermixed with black priests, white priests, grey priests; and though I don't say there was no honey in the place, for I believe there was, I am ready to take my Bible oath that it was not made there, and that the priests kept it all for themselves."

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Chapter XCIX

"The day after our arrival," continued the postillion, "I was sent, under the guidance of a lackey of the place, with a letter, which the priest, when he left, had given us for a friend of his in the Eternal City. We went to a large house, and on ringing, were admitted by a porter into a cloister, where I saw some ill-looking, shabby young fellows walking about, who spoke English to one another. To one of these the porter delivered the letter, and the young fellow going away, presently returned and told me to follow him; he led me into a large room, where, behind a table, on which were various papers, and a thing, which they call in that country a crucifix, sat a man in a kind of priestly dress. The lad having opened the door for me, shut it behind me, and went away. The man behind the table was so engaged in reading the letter which I had brought, that at first he took no notice of me; he had red hair, a kind of half-English countenance, and was seemingly about five-and-thirty. After a little time he laid the letter down, appeared to consider a moment, and then opened his mouth with a strange laugh, not a loud laugh, for I heard nothing but a kind of hissing deep down the throat; all of a sudden, however, perceiving me, he gave a slight start, but instantly recovering himself, he inquired in English concerning the health of the family, and where we lived; on my delivering him a card, he bade me inform my master and the ladies that in the course of the day he would do himself the honour of waiting upon them. He then arose and opened the door for me to depart; the man was perfectly civil and courteous, but I did not like that strange laugh of his, after having read the letter. He was as good as his word, and that same day paid us a visit. It was now arranged that we should pass the winter in Rome, to my great annoyance, for I wished to return to my native land, being heartily tired of everything connected with Italy. I was not, however, without hope that our young master would shortly arrive, when I trusted that matters, as far as the family were concerned, would be put on a better footing. In a few days our new acquaintance, who, it seems, was a mongrel Englishman, had procured a house for our accommodation; it was large enough, but not near so pleasant as that we had at Naples, which was light and airy, with a large garden. This was a dark, gloomy structure in a narrow street, with a frowning church beside it; it was not far from the place where our new friend lived, and its being so was probably the reason why he selected it. It was furnished partly with articles which we bought, and partly with those which we hired. We lived something in the same way as at Naples; but though I did not much like Naples, I yet liked it better than this place, which was so gloomy. Our new acquaintance made himself as agreeable as he could, conducting the ladies to churches and convents, and frequently passing the afternoon drinking with the governor, who was fond of a glass of brandy and water and a cigar, as the new acquaintance also was--no, I remember, he was fond of gin and water, and did not smoke. I don't think he had so much influence over the young ladies as the other priest, which was, perhaps, owing to his not being so good-looking; but I am sure he had more influence with the governor, owing, doubtless, to his bearing him company in drinking mixed liquors, which the other priest did not do.

"He was a strange fellow, that same new acquaintance of ours, and unlike all the priests I saw in that country, and I saw plenty of various nations--they were always upon their guard, and had their features and voice modulated; but this man was subject to fits of absence, during which he would frequently mutter to himself; then, though he was perfectly civil to everybody, as far as words went, I observed that he entertained a thorough contempt for most people, especially for those whom he was making dupes. I have observed him whilst drinking with our governor, when the old man's head was turned, look at him with an air which seemed to say, 'What a thundering old fool you are!' and at our young ladies, when their backs were turned, with a glance which said distinctly enough, 'You precious pair of ninnyhammers'; and then his laugh--he had two kinds of laughs--one which you could hear, and another which you could only see. I have seen him laugh at our governor and the young ladies, when their heads were turned away, but I heard no sound. My mother had a sandy cat, which sometimes used to open its mouth wide with a mew which nobody could hear, and the silent laugh of that red-haired priest used to put me wonderfully in mind of the silent mew of my mother's sandy-red cat. And then the other laugh, which you could hear; what a strange laugh that was, never loud, yes, I have heard it tolerably loud. He once passed near me, after having taken leave of a silly English fellow--a limping parson of the name of Platitude, who they said was thinking of turning Papist, and was much in his company; I was standing behind the pillar of a piazza, and as he passed he was laughing heartily. Oh, he was a strange fellow, that same red-haired acquaintance of ours!

"After we had been at Rome about six weeks, our old friend the priest of Naples arrived, but without his subordinate, for whose services he now perhaps thought that he had no occasion. I believe he found matters in our family wearing almost as favourable an aspect as he could desire: with what he had previously taught them and shown them at Naples and elsewhere, and with what the red-haired confederate had taught them and shown them at Rome, the poor young ladies had become quite handmaids of superstition, so that they, especially the youngest, were prepared to bow down to anything, and kiss anything however vile and ugly, provided a priest commanded them; and as for the old governor, what with the influence which his daughters exerted, and what with the ascendancy which the red-haired man had obtained over him, he dared not say his purse, far less his soul, was his own. Only think of an Englishman not being master of his own purse. My acquaintance, the lady's maid, assured me, that to her certain knowledge, he had disbursed to the red-haired man, for purposes of charity, as it was said, at least one thousand pounds during the five weeks we had been at Rome. She also told me that things would shortly be brought to a conclusion, and so indeed they were, though in a different manner from what she and I and some other people imagined; that there was to be a grand festival, and a mass, at which we were to be present, after which the family were to be presented to the Holy Father, for so those two priestly sharks had managed it; and then--she said she was certain that the two ladies, and perhaps the old governor, would forsake the religion of their native land, taking up with that of these foreign regions, for so my fellow-servant expressed it, and that perhaps attempts might be made to induce us poor English servants to take up with the foreign religion, that is, herself and me, for as for our fellow-servant, the other maid, she wanted no inducing, being disposed body and soul to go over to it. Whereupon, I swore with an oath that nothing should induce me to take up with the foreign religion; and the poor maid, my fellow-servant, bursting into tears, said that for her part she would sooner die than have anything to do with it; thereupon we shook hands and agreed to stand by and countenance one another: and moreover, provided our governors were fools enough to go over to the religion of these here foreigners, we would not wait to be asked to do the like, but leave them at once, and make the best of our way home, even if we were forced to beg on the road.

"At last the day of the grand festival came, and we were all to go to the big church to hear the mass. Now it happened that for some time past I had been much afflicted with melancholy, especially when I got up of a morning, produced by the strange manner in which I saw things going on in our family; and to dispel it in some degree, I had been in the habit of taking a dram before breakfast. On the morning in question, feeling particularly low-spirited when I thought of the foolish step our governor would probably take before evening, I took two drams before breakfast; and after breakfast, feeling my melancholy still continuing, I took another, which produced a slight effect upon my head, though I am convinced nobody observed it.

"Away we drove to the big church; it was a dark, misty day, I remember, and very cold, so that if anybody had noticed my being slightly in liquor, I could have excused myself by saying that I had merely taken a glass to fortify my constitution against the weather; and of one thing I am certain, which is, that such an excuse would have stood me in stead with our governor, who looked, I thought, as if he had taken one too; but I may be mistaken, and why should I notice him, seeing that he took no notice of me: so away we drove to the big church, to which all the population of the place appeared to be moving.

"On arriving there we dismounted, and the two priests who were with us led the family in, whilst I followed at a little distance, but quickly lost them amidst the throng of people. I made my way, however, though in what direction I knew not, except it was one in which everybody seemed striving, and by dint of elbowing and pushing, I at last got to a place which looked like the aisle of a cathedral, where the people stood in two rows, a space between being kept open by certain strangely-dressed men who moved up and down with rods in their hands; all were looking to the upper end of this place or aisle; and at the upper end, separated from the people by palings like those of an altar, sat in magnificent-looking stalls, on the right and the left, various wonderful-looking individuals in scarlet dresses. At the farther end was what appeared to be an altar, on the left hand was a pulpit, and on the right a stall higher than any of the rest, where was a figure whom I could scarcely see.

"I can't pretend to describe what I saw exactly, for my head, which was at first rather flurried, had become more so from the efforts which I had made to get through the crowd; also from certain singing which proceeded from I know not where, and above all from the bursts of an organ which were occasionally so loud that I thought the roof, which was painted with wondrous colours, would come toppling down on those below. So there stood I, a poor English servant, in that outlandish place, in the midst of that foreign crowd, looking at that outlandish sight, hearing those outlandish sounds, and occasionally glancing at our party, which, by this time, I distinguished at the opposite side to where I stood, but much nearer the place where the red figures sat. Yes, there stood our poor governor, and the sweet young ladies, and I thought they never looked so handsome before, and close by them were the sharking priests, and not far from them was that idiotical parson Platitude, winking and grinning, and occasionally lifting up his hands as if in ecstasy at what he saw and heard, so that he drew upon himself the notice of the congregation.

"And now an individual mounted the pulpit, and began to preach in a language which I did not understand, but which I believe to be Latin, addressing himself seemingly to the figure in the stall; and when he had ceased, there was more singing, more organ playing, and then two men in robes brought forth two things which they held up; and then the people bowed their heads, and our poor governor bowed his head, and the sweet young ladies bowed their heads, and the sharking priests, whilst the idiotical parson Platitude tried to fling himself down; and then there were various evolutions withinside the pale, and the scarlet figures got up and sat down, and this kind of thing continued for some time; at length the figure which I had seen in the principal stall came forth and advanced towards the people; an awful figure he was, a huge old man with a sugar-loaf hat, with a sulphur-coloured dress, and holding a crook in his hand like that of a shepherd; and as he advanced the people fell on their knees, our poor old governor amongst them; the sweet young ladies, the sharking priests, the idiotical parson Platitude all fell on their knees, and somebody or other tried to pull me on my knees, but by this time I had become outrageous; all that my poor brother used to tell me of the superstitions of the high Barbary shore rushed into my mind, and I thought they were acting them over here; above all, the idea that the sweet young ladies, to say nothing of my poor old governor, were, after the conclusion of all this mummery, going to deliver themselves up body and soul into the power of that horrid-looking old man, maddened me, and, rushing forward into the open space, I confronted the horrible-looking old figure with the sugar-loaf hat, the sulphur-coloured garments, and shepherd's crook, and shaking my fist at his nose, I bellowed out in English:--

"'I don't care for you, old Mumbo Jumbo, though you have fetish!'

"I can scarcely tell you what occurred for some time. I have a dim recollection that hands were laid upon me, and that I struck out violently left and right. On coming to myself, I was seated on a stone bench in a large room, something like a guarde room, in the custody of certain fellows dressed like Merry Andrews; they were bluff, good-looking, wholesome fellows, very different from the sallow Italians; they were looking at me attentively, and occasionally talking to each other in a language which sounded very like the cracking of walnuts in the mouth, very different from cooing Italian. At last one of them asked me in Italian what had ailed me, to which I replied, in an incoherent manner, something about Mumbo Jumbo; whereupon the fellow, one of the bluffest of the lot, a jovial, rosy-faced rascal, lifted up his right hand, placing it in such a manner that the lips were between the forefinger and thumb, then lifting up his right foot and drawing back his head, he sucked in his breath with a hissing sound, as if to imitate one drinking a hearty draught, and then slapped me on the shoulder, saying something which sounded like goot wine, goot companion, whereupon they all laughed, exclaiming, ya, ya, goot companion. And now hurried into the room our poor old governor, with the red-haired priest; the first asked what could have induced me to behave in such a manner in such a place, to which I replied that I was not going to bow down to Mumbo Jumbo, whatever other people might do. Whereupon my master said he believed I was mad, and the priest said he believed I was drunk; to which I answered that I was neither so mad nor drunk but I could distinguish how the wind lay. Whereupon they left me, and in a little time I was told by the bluff-looking Merry Andrews I was at liberty to depart. I believe the priest, in order to please my governor, interceded for me in high quarters.

"But one good resulted from this affair; there was no presentation of our family to the Holy Father, for old Mumbo was so frightened by my outrageous looks that he was laid up for a week, as I was afterwards informed.

"I went home, and had scarcely been there half an hour when I was sent for by the governor, who again referred to the scene in church, said that he could not tolerate such scandalous behaviour and that unless I promised to be more circumspect in future, he should be compelled to discharge me. I said that if he was scandalised at my behaviour in the church, I was more scandalised at all I saw going on in the family, which was governed by two rascally priests, who, not content with plundering him, appeared bent on hurrying the souls of us all to destruction; and that with respect to discharging me, he could do so that moment, as I wished to go. I believe his own reason told him that I was right, for he made no direct answer; but, after looking on the ground for some time, he told me to leave him. As he did not tell me to leave the house, I went to my room intending to lie down for an hour or two; but scarcely was I there when the door opened, and in came the red-haired priest. He showed himself, as he always did, perfectly civil, asked me how I was, took a chair and sat down. After a hem or two he entered into a long conversation on the excellence of what he called the Catholic religion; told me that he hoped I would not set myself against the light, and likewise against my interest; for that the family were about to embrace the Catholic religion, and would make it worth my while to follow their example. I told him that the family might do what they pleased, but that I would never forsake the religion of my country for any consideration whatever; that I was nothing but a poor servant, but I was not to be bought by base gold. 'I admire your honourable feelings,' said he; 'you shall have no gold; and as I see you are a fellow of spirit, and do not like being a servant, for which I commend you, I can promise you something better. I have a good deal of influence in this place, and if you will not set your face against the light, but embrace the Catholic religion, I will undertake to make your fortune. You remember those fine fellows to-day who took you into custody, they are the guards of his Holiness. I have no doubt that I have interest enough to procure your enrolment amongst them.' 'What,' said I, 'become swash buckler to Mumbo Jumbo up here! May I ---'--and here I swore--'if I do. The mere possibility of one of their children being swash-buckler to Mumbo Jumbo on the high Barbary shore has always been a source of heart-breaking to my poor parents. What, then, would they not undergo if they knew for certain that their other child was swash-buckler to Mumbo Jumbo up here?' Thereupon he asked me, even as you did some time ago, what I meant by Mumbo Jumbo? And I told him all I had heard about the Mumbo Jumbo of the high Barbary shore; telling him that I had no doubt that the old fellow up here was his brother, or nearly related to him. The man with the red hair listened with the greatest attention to all I said, and when I had concluded, he got up, nodded to me, and moved to the door; ere he reached the door I saw his shoulders shaking, and as he closed it behind him I heard him distinctly laughing, to the tune of--he! he! he!

"But now matters began to mend. That same evening my young master unexpectedly arrived. I believe he soon perceived that something extraordinary had been going on in the family. He was for some time closeted with the governor, with whom, I believe, he had a dispute; for my fellow-servant, the ladies' maid, informed me that she heard high words.

"Rather late at night the young gentleman sent for me into his room, and asked me various questions with respect to what had been going on, and my behaviour in the church, of which he had heard something. I told him all I knew with respect to the intrigues of the two priests in the family, and gave him a circumstantial account of all that had occurred in the church, adding that, under similar circumstances, I was ready to play the same part over again. Instead of blaming me, he commended my behaviour, told me I was a fine fellow, and said he hoped that if he wanted my assistance, I would stand by him: this I promised to do. Before I left him, he entreated me to inform him the very next time I saw the priests entering the house.

"The next morning, as I was in the court-yard, where I had placed myself to watch, I saw the two enter and make their way up a private stair to the young ladies' apartment; they were attended by a man dressed something like a priest, who bore a large box; I instantly ran to relate what I had seen to my young master. I found him shaving. 'I will just finish what I am about,' said he, 'and then wait upon these gentlemen.' He finished what he was about with great deliberation, then taking a horsewhip, and bidding me follow him, he proceeded at once to the door of his sisters' apartment: finding it fastened, he burst it open at once with his foot and entered, followed by myself. There we beheld the two unfortunate young ladies down on their knees before a large female doll, dressed up, as usual, in rags and tinsel; the two priests were standing near, one on either side, with their hands uplifted, whilst the fellow who brought the trumpery stood a little way down the private stair, the door of which stood open; without a moment's hesitation, my young master rushed forward, gave the image a cut or two with his horsewhip, then flying at the priests, he gave them a sound flogging, kicked them down the private stair, and spurned the man, box and image after them; then locking the door, he gave his sisters a fine sermon, in which he represented to them their folly in worshipping a silly wooden graven image, which, though it had eyes, could see not; though it had ears, could hear not; though it had hands, could not help itself; and though it had feet, could not move about unless it were carried. Oh, it was a fine sermon that my young master preached, and sorry I am that the Father of the Fetish, old Mumbo, did not hear it. The elder sister looked ashamed, but the youngest, who was very weak, did nothing but wring her hands, weep and bewail the injury which had been done to the dear image. The young man, however, without paying much regard to either of them went to his father, with whom he had a long conversation, which terminated in the old governor giving orders for preparations to be made for the family's leaving Rome and returning to England. I believe that the old governor was glad of his son's arrival, and rejoiced at the idea of getting away from Italy, where he had been so plundered and imposed upon. The priests, however, made another attempt upon the poor young ladies. By the connivance of the female servant who was in their interest, they found their way once more into their apartment, bringing with them the fetish image, whose body they partly stripped, exhibiting upon it certain sanguine marks which they had daubed upon it with red paint, but which they said were the result of the lashes which it had received from the horsewhip. The youngest girl believed all they said, and kissed and embraced the dear image; but the eldest, whose eyes had been opened by her brother, to whom she was much attached, behaved with proper dignity; for, going to the door, she called the female servant who had a respect for me, and in her presence reproached the two deceivers for their various impudent cheats, and especially for this their last attempt at imposition; adding, that if they did not forthwith withdraw and rid her sister and herself of their presence, she would send word by her maid to her brother, who would presently take effectual means to expel them. They took the hint and departed, and we saw no more of them.

"At the end of three days we departed from Rome, but the maid whom the priests had cajoled remained behind, and it is probable that the youngest of our ladies would have done the same thing if she could have had her own will, for she was continually raving about her image, and saying, she should wish to live with it in a convent; but we watched the poor thing, and got her on board ship. Oh, glad was I to leave that fetish country, and old Mumbo behind me!"

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Chapter C

"We arrived in England, and went to our country seat, but the peace and tranquillity of the family had been marred, and I no longer found my place the pleasant one which it had formerly been; there was nothing but gloom in the house, for the youngest daughter exhibited signs of lunacy, and was obliged to be kept under confinement. The next season I attended my master, his son and eldest daughter to London, as I had previously done. There I left them, for hearing that a young baronet, an acquaintance of the family, wanted a servant, I applied for the place, with the consent of my masters, both of whom gave me a strong recommendation, and being approved of, I went to live with him.

"My new master was what is called a sporting character, very fond of the turf, upon which he was not very fortunate. He was frequently very much in want of money, and my wages were anything but regularly paid; nevertheless, I liked him very much, for he treated me more like a friend than a domestic, continually consulting me as to his affairs. At length he was brought nearly to his last shifts, by backing the favourite at the Derby, which favourite turned out a regular brute, being found nowhere at the rush. Whereupon, he and I had a solemn consultation over fourteen glasses of brandy and water, and as many cigars--I mean, between us--as to what was to be done. He wished to start a coach, in which event he was to be driver and I guard. He was quite competent to drive a coach, being a first-rate whip, and I dare say I should have made a first-rate guard; but to start a coach requires money, and we neither of us believed that anybody would trust us with vehicles and horses, so that idea was laid aside. We then debated as to whether or not he should go into the Church; but to go into the Church--at any rate to become a dean or bishop, which would have been our aim--it is necessary for a man to possess some education; and my master, although he had been at the best school in England, that is, the most expensive, and also at College, was almost totally illiterate, so we let the Church scheme follow that of the coach. At last, bethinking me that he was tolerably glib at the tongue, as most people are who are addicted to the turf, also a great master of slang, remembering also that he had a crabbed old uncle, who had some borough interest, I proposed that he should get into the House, promising in one fortnight to qualify him to make a figure in it, by certain lessons which I would give him. He consented; and during the next fortnight I did little else than give him lessons in elocution, following to a tittle the method of the great professor, which I had picked up listening behind the door. At the end of that period, we paid a visit to his relation, an old gouty Tory, who, at first, received us very coolly. My master, however, by flattering a predilection of his for Billy Pitt, soon won his affections so much that he promised to bring him into Parliament, and in less than a month was as good as his word. My master, partly by his own qualifications, and partly by the assistance which he had derived, and still occasionally derived, from me, cut a wonderful figure in the House, and was speedily considered one of the most promising speakers; he was always a good hand at promising. He is at present, I believe, a Cabinet minister.

"But as he got up in the world, he began to look down on me. I believe he was ashamed of the obligation under which he lay to me; and at last, requiring no further hints as to oratory from a poor servant like me, he took an opportunity of quarrelling with me and discharging me. However, as he had still some grace, he recommended me to a gentleman with whom, since he had attached himself to politics, he had formed an acquaintance, the editor of a grand Tory Review. I lost caste terribly amongst the servants for entering the service of a person connected with a profession so mean as literature; and it was proposed at the Servants' Club, in Park Lane, to eject me from that society. The proposition, however, was not carried into effect, and I was permitted to show myself among them, though few condescended to take much notice of me. My master was one of the best men in the world, but also one of the most sensitive. On his veracity being impugned by the editor of a newspaper, he called him out, and shot him through the arm. Though servants are seldom admirers of their masters, I was a great admirer of mine, and eager to follow his example. The day after the encounter, on my veracity being impugned by the servant of Lord C--- in something I said in praise of my master I determined to call him out, so I went into another room and wrote a challenge. But whom should I send it by? Several servants to whom I applied refused to be the bearers of it; they said I had lost caste, and they could not think of going out with me. At length the servant of the Duke of B--- consented to take it; but he made me to understand that, though he went out with me, he did so merely because he despised the Whiggish principles of Lord C---'s servant, and that if I thought he intended to associate with me, I should be mistaken. Politics, I must tell you, at that time ran as high amongst the servants as the gentlemen, the servants, however, being almost invariably opposed to the politics of their respective masters, though both parties agreed in one point, the scouting of everything low and literary, though I think, of the two, the liberal or reform party were the most inveterate. So he took my challenge, which was accepted; we went out, Lord C---'s servant being seconded by a reformado footman from the Palace. We fired three times without effect; but this affair lost me my place, my master on hearing it forthwith discharged me; he was, as I have said before, very sensitive, and he said this duel of mine was a parody of his own. Being, however, one of the best men in the world, on his discharging me he made me a donation of twenty pounds.

"And it was well that he made me this present, for without it I should have been penniless, having contracted rather expensive habits during the time that I lived with the young baronet. I now determined to visit my parents, whom I had not seen for years. I found them in good health, and, after staying with them for two months, I returned again in the direction of town, walking in order to see the country. On the second day of my journey, not being used to such fatigue, I fell ill at a great inn on the north road, and there I continued for some weeks till I recovered, but by that time my money was entirely spent. By living at the inn I had contracted an acquaintance with the master and the people, and become accustomed to inn life. As I thought that I might find some difficulty in procuring any desirable situation in London, owing to my late connection with literature, I determined to remain where I was, provided my services would be accepted. I offered them to the master, who, finding I knew something of horses, engaged me as a postillion. I have remained there since. You have now heard my story.

"Stay, you sha'n't say that I told my tale without a per--peroration. What shall it be? Oh, I remember something which will serve for one. As I was driving my chaise some weeks ago, on my return from L---, I saw standing at the gate of an avenue, which led up to an old mansion, a figure which I thought I recognised. I looked at it attentively, and the figure, as I passed, looked at me; whether it remembered me I do not know, but I recognised the face it showed me full well.

"If it was not the identical face of the red-haired priest whom I had seen at Rome, may I catch cold!

"Young gentleman, I will now take a spell on your blanket--young lady, good-night."

[End of Vol. III., 1851.]

THE EDITOR'S POSTSCRIPT.

Lavengro and The Romany Rye (properly Romano Rai) were terms applied to George Borrow in his youth by the Norfolk Gypsy, Ambrose Smith, better known in these volumes as Jasper Petulengro. The names signify respectively "Philologist" and "the Gypsy Gentleman". The two works thus entitled constitute a more or less exact autobiography of the writer of them, from the date of his birth to the end of August, 1825. The author himself confesses in his Preface that "the time embraces nearly the first quarter of the present century".

Lavengro was written at Oulton, in Suffolk, slowly and at intervals, between the years 1842 and 1851. The MSS. exist in three varieties: 1. The primitive draft of a portion, found scattered through sundry notebooks and on isolated scraps of paper, as described in the letter to Dawson Turner (Life, i., p. 394). 2. The definitive autograph text in one thick quarto volume. 3. The transcript for the printers, made by Mrs. Borrow, in one large folio volume, interlarded with the author's additions and corrections.

The text of the present edition reproduces with fidelity the first issue of 1851. Occasionally a verbal alteration, introduced by the author himself into his second edition of 1872, has been adopted in this, whenever it seemed to improve the reading. In general, however, that reprint was in many respects a defective one. Not only words, but even whole sentences, which had escaped the printers, remained undetected by the editor, and, as a consequence, were lost to later impressions, based, as they all have been, on that issue. We should have preferred to alter, quietly and without remark, certain errors in the text, as we did in the documents published in the Life; but save in a single instance, we have left such inaccuracies intact, reserving all corrections for the place where we might be supposed to exercise a free hand. {553}

The insertion, with brackets of course, of the promised inedited episodes, caused in two cases some embarrassment. In removing them from the final form of his MS., Mr. Borrow closed up the gap with a few fitting lines which concealed the withdrawal. These words had to be suppressed on the restoration of the passages.

The insertions will be met with as follows:--

The Poet Parkinson, pp. 119-25.

The Wake of Freya, pp. 128-33.

Cromwell's Statue and the Dairyman's Daughter, pp. 196-98.

Portobello or the Irish Patriot, pp. 231-39.

Thomas d'Eterville, in the Notes, pp. 558-59.

Thus we have made a full statement as regards the text of the present reprint. Any one who takes up this edition will discover no visible name, or preface, or introduction, save only those of George Borrow, from the title to the close. The book is, therefore, "all Borrow," and we have sought to render the helping hand as inconspicuous as possible. Should, however, the prejudiced stumble at the Notes, we can say in the language of the fairy smith of Loughmore: is agad an t-leigheas, you have the remedy in your own power.

Speaking of the Notes, they have been drawn up on the unimpeachable testimony of contemporaneous record. Especially have we sought the works which Mr. Borrow was accustomed to read in his younger days, and at times with curious results. A list of these is given at the close of The Romany Rye, and is referred to in these notes as "Bibliography" for the sake of concision. What is not here explained can be easily looked up in our Life, Writings, and Correspondence of George Borrow, London, 1899, which of itself furnishes a sufficient and unalterable exhibition of the facts concerning the man and his work.

W. I. KNAPP.

HIGH ST., OXFORD, November, 1899.

NOTES TO LAVENGRO, WITH CORRECTIONS, IDENTIFICATIONS AND TRANSLATIONS.

Page 1. East D---: East Dereham, a small town in Norfolk, 16 miles W. of Norwich, and 102 N.E. of London. Here Capt. Thomas Borrow, the father of George, was often stationed from 1792 to 1812.--1. East Anglia: This Anglo-Saxon kingdom comprised the present counties of Norfolk, Suffolk and Cambridge.--1. Tredinnock, read Trethinnick; Parish of St. Cleer, Cornwall.--2. Big Ben: Benjamin Brain or Bryan was born in 1753. Some of his most severe "battles" were fought between 1780 and 1790--one on the 30th of August in the latter year, with Hooper at Newbury, Berks. A few days after this exploit, he picked a quarrel with Sergeant Borrow of the Coldstream Guards, which resulted in the Hyde Park encounter. Some four months later, i.e., 17th January, 1791, the decisive fight for the championship came off between Brain and Johnson. It was an appalling spectacle, and struck dumb with horror, even in that day, the witnesses to the dreadful conflict. Big Ben was the victor, and remained champion of England from that date until his death three years (not "four months") later--8th April, 1794. "Lavengro," carried away by the enthusiasm of early reminiscence, allowed himself to declare that his father read the Bible to Brain in his latter moments. But in 1794 Thomas Borrow was busy recruiting soldiers in Norfolk, one hundred miles from the scene of the dying pugilist. However, the error was probably one of date merely, and during the year 1791 Thomas doubtless read the Bible to him in London, since we learn from Pierce Egan that "Ben derived great consolation from hearing the Bible read, and generally solicited those of his acquaintance who called upon him to read a chapter to him". {555}--3. Captain: The West Norfolk Militia was raised in 1759 by the third Earl of Orford. He died in December, 1791, when the regiment was reorganised (not "raised") under the new Colonel, the Hon. Horatio Walpole, subsequently the sixth Earl of Orford. Thus in February, 1792, Thomas was transferred from the Guards to be Sergeant-major in the W.N.M., and stationed at East Dereham. He married the following year, became Quarter- master (with the rank of Ensign) in 1795, and Adjutant (Lieutenant) in February, 1798. This his final promotion doubtless gave him the honorary rank of Captain, since in the Monthly Army List for 1804 we read: "Adjutant, Thomas Borrow, Capt.". But a letter before me dated 18th April, 1799, from his Major, is officially addressed to him as "Lieut. Borrow, Adjutant," etc., etc.--3. Petrement: Our author knew very well that his mother's maiden name was Ann Perfrement, pronounced and written Parfrement at the present day by those of the family we have met. The correct spelling is found on the tombstone of her sister, Sarah, at Dereham (1817), and on that of her brother, Samuel, at Salthouse near Holt (1864).--3. Castle of De Burgh: A fanciful Borrovian epithet applied to Norwich Castle. Nor did the exiles build the Church of St. Mary-the-Less, in Queen Street, Norwich; it was a distinct parish church long before Elizabeth's reign, and in her time the parish was consolidated with the neighbouring one of St. George's, Tombland, while the church became municipal property. But the French exiles of the Edict of 1685 did worship there, even as did the Dutch refugees from Alva's persecution a century before (1565-70).--4. Middle Age: Borrow's father was thirty-four, and his mother twenty-one, at the date of their marriage. John was born seven years after the marriage, and George ten. The mother was, then, thirty-one at George's birth.--4. Bishop Hopkins: Sermons.--4. Angola: More correctly Angora.--5. Foreign grave: Lieut. John Thomas Borrow died at Guanajuato, Mexico, 22nd November, 1833.

Pages 12-13. "Snorro" Sturleson: Poet and historian of Iceland (1178- 1241). Harald (not Harold) III., called "Haardraade". Battle of Stamford Bridge, A.D. 1066, same year as Norman Conquest. See Mallet's Northern Antiquities, pp. 168-71 and 194; Snorro's Heimskringla, ii., p. 164, and his Chronica, 1633, p. 381, for the quotation; also Bibliog. at end of Romany Rye.--13. Winchester: Rather Winchelsea, according to the Regimental Records.--14. A gallant frigate: A reminiscence of Norman Cross gossip in 1810-11. "Ninety-eight French prisoners, the crew of a large French privateer of eighteen guns called the Contre-Amiral Magon, and commanded by the notorious Blackman, were captured 16th October, 1804, by Capt. Hancock of the Cruiser sloop, and brought into Yarmouth. They marched into Norwich, 26th November, and the next morning proceeded under guard on their way to Norman Cross barracks"--Norwich Papers, 1804.--15. Lady Bountiful: Dame Eleanor Fenn (1743-1813).--15. Bard: William Cowper (1731-1800).--16. Some Saint: Withburga, daughter of Anna, king of the East Angles, was the "saint" and the "daughter" at the same time.--19. Hunchbacked rhymer: Alexander Pope.--20. Properties of God, read attributes.--20. Rector: The Rev. F. J. H. Wollaston.--20. Philoh: James Philo (1745-1829).--21. Tolerism, read toleration.--24. Mere: Whittlesea Mere, long since drained.--31. Bengui: See the vocabulary at the end for all Gypsy words in this volume.--34. Jasper: The change from Ambrose to Jasper was made in pencil in Mrs. Borrow's transcript at the last moment in 1849, before handing it to the printers.--38. Three years: Included in the subsequent narrative, not excluded from it as his Norwich school days (1814-15, 1816-18) were. They extend from July, 1811, to April, 1813--from Norman Cross to Edinburgh. The chronology, according to the Regimental Records, was as follows: George was at East Dereham from 22nd July to 18th November, 1811, at J. S. Buck's ("Dr. B.'s") school; 30th November, 1811, to February, 1812, at Colchester; 28th February to 5th March, 1812, at Harwich; 15th to 19th March, at Leicester; 21st to 30th March, at Melton Mowbray; 2nd to 25th April, at Leicester again; 28th April to 3rd May, at Tamworth (Lavengro, pp. 367-68); 8th to 26th May, at Macclesfield; 28th May to 2nd August, at Stockport; 3rd to 23rd August, at Ashton; 24th August to 15th December, at Huddersfield (W. W., p. 64, and Lavengro, pp. 39-41); 16th December, 1812, to 19th March, 1813, at Sheffield; 20th and 21st March, 1813, at Leeds; 22nd March, at Wetherby; 23rd March, Boroughbridge; 24th March, Allerton; 25th March, Darlington; 26th March, Durham (W. W., pp. 258-59); 27th and 28th March, Newcastle; 29th March, Morpeth; 30th March, Alnwick; 3rd and 4th April, at Berwick- upon-Tweed; 6th April, 1813, Edinburgh Castle.--38. Lilly: See Bibliog.

Page 42. Bank of a river: The Tweed. The scene here described occurred on a Sunday, 4th April, 1813, near Berwick, where they "arrived the preceding night" (p. 44).--42. Elvir Hill: See Borrow's Romantic Ballads, Norwich, 1826, pp. 111-14. This piece entitled "Elvir Hill," one of the old Danish ballads of Vedel's collection, 1591, represents the dangers attending a youth who "rested" his "head upon Elvir Hill's side" where he was so charmed in his sleep by a brace of seductive fairies, that

"If my good luck had not managed it so That the cock crew out then in the distance, I should have been murder'd by them on the Hill, Without power to offer resistance.

"'Tis therefore I counsel each young Danish swain Who may ride in the forest so dreary, Ne'er to lay down upon lone Elvir Hill Though he chance to be ever so weary."

43. Skaldaglam: The barditus of Tacitus, or the "din" made by the Norse "bards" (skalds) on shields and with shouts as they rushed into battle. It is not in Molbech, but Snorro frequently uses it in his Chronica, 1633.--43. Kalevala: Title of the great Finnish epic, of which the hero is Woinomoinen.--43. Polak: Polander or Pole.--43. Magyar (pron. Madjr): Hungarian.--43. Batuscha: An erratum of the author for his Batuschca (161)--better Batyushca, "father Tsar"--but generally applied by Borrow to his friend the Pope.--45 to 55: See Life, i., pp. 39-43.--46. Bui hin Digri: The Jomsburg Viking, A.D. 994. See Borrow's Romantic Ballads, p. 136, and Once A Week, ix., p. 686. The account is given in Snorro's Chronica, 1633, p. 136 (see Bibliog.), but a more accessible version of it is found in Mallet's Northern Antiquities (Bohn's ed.), pp. 144-45.--46. Horunga Vog, read Hjorunga Vagr in Icelandic, or Vaag in Danish. In Romany Rye (p. 359) it is Englished as "Horinger Bay".--50. Hickathrift: A Norfolk worthy of the eleventh century, whose prodigious exploits with the axle of his cart as an offensive weapon, and the wheel as a shield, are handed down in the chap-books of the last three centuries. See p. 63; also Bibliog. at the end of Romany Rye.--51. Elzigood: William E., of Heigham, Norwich, enlisted October, 1789, became Drum-major in the regiment, 22nd October, 1802; called facetiously or maliciously Else-than-gude on p. 54.--55. O'Hanlon: Redmond O'Hanlon (d. 1681), a proprietor of Ulster, dispossessed under the Cromwellian settlement, and afterwards leader of a band of outlaws.--56. Disbanded: The W.N.M. regiment left Edinburgh in July, 1814, and was disembodied at Norwich, 19th July. It was again called out, 10th July, 1815, and sent to Ireland. John Borrow was appointed Ensign, 29th May, 1815, and Lieutenant, 13th December of the same year. The regiment sailed from Harwich ("port in Essex") 31st August, reaching Cork harbour ("the cove") about 9th September, 1815. 63. Wight Wallace (story book of): See Bibliog.

Page 63. Shorsha: The Irish for George, properly written Seors, but the author usually wrote his Irish by sound.--64. Saggart, read sagart: (Lat. sacerdos), a priest.--64. Finn-ma-Coul: In Irish Fionn-mac-Cumhail, the father of Ossian.--64. Brian Boroo: In Irish, Brian Boroimhe, a king of Ireland (926-1014).--65. Saggarting: Studying with reference to the priesthood.--65. Mavourneen: Properly mo mhuirnin, my darling.--65. Hanam mon Dioul: Wrongly given for M'anam o'n Diabhal [God preserve] my soul from the devil! See Romany Rye, p. 286, where it is quite correct--from sound.--66. Christmas over: 1816. Regiment quartered at Templemore. John, now a lieutenant (not "ensign"), is sent with a detachment to Loughmore, three miles away. Sergeant Bagg, promoted to that rank, 10th July, 1815, accompanies him.--66. Mountain: Called locally, "Devil's Bit," and not Devil's Hill or Mt., as in the text.--68. Fine old language (add: which):

"A labhair Padric 'nninse Fail na Riogh 'San faighe caomhsin Colum naomhtha 'n I." (which) "Patrick spoke in Innisfail to heathen chiefs of old, And Columb, the mild prophet-saint, spoke in his island-hold."

So Borrow gives the Irish and his version in Romantic Ballads, p. viii. The Erse lines were taken from Lhuyd's Archaeologia Britannica, Oxford, 1707, sign. d.--69. The Castle: Loughmore Castle.--71. Figure of a man: Jerry Grant, the Irish outlaw. See the Newgate Calendars subsequent to 1840--Pelham. Griffith, etc.--72 and 83. "Sas" and "Sassanach," of course mean Englishman or English (Saxon).--74. Clergyman of the parish: The Rev. Patrick Kennedy, vicar of Loughmore. His name is also on the list of subscribers to the Romantic Ballads, Norwich, 1826, as J. Kennedy, by mistake.--76. Swanton Morley: A village near East Dereham.--82. Arrigod yuit (Irish), read airgiod dhuit: Have you any money?--82. Tabhair chugam (pron. tower khoogam): Give (it) to me.--83. Is agam an't leigeas (read an t-leigheas): I have the remedy.--83. Another word: deaghbhlasda: See Romany Rye, p. 266, and Notes and Queries, 5th May, 1855, p. 339, article by George Metivier.

Page 84. Old city: Norwich. The regiment having returned to head-quarters, 11th May, 1816, was mustered out 17th June. The author describes the city from the "ruined wall" of the old Priory on the hill to the east.--85. The Norman Bridge: is Bishop's Bridge.--85. Sword of Cordova, in Guild Hall, is a mistake for the sword of the Spanish General Don Xavier Winthuysen.--90. Vone banished priest: Rev. Thomas d'Eterville. The MS. gives the following inedited account of D'Eterville. I omit the oft-recurring expletive sacre (accursed):--

[Myself. Were you not yourself forced to flee from your country?

D'Eterville. That's very true. . . . I became one vagabond--nothing better, I assure you, my dear; had you seen me, you would have said so. I arrive at Douvres; no welcome. I walk to Canterbury and knock at the door of one auberge. The landlord opens. "What do you here?" he says; "who are you?" "Vone exiled priest," I reply. "Get you gone, sirrah!" he says; "we have beggars enough of our own," and he slams the door in my face. Ma foi, il faisoit bien, for my toe was sticking through my shoe.

Myself. But you are no longer a vagabond, and your toe does not stick through your shoe now.

D'Eterville. No, thank God, the times are changed. I walked and walked, till I came here, where I became one philologue and taught tongues--French and Italian. I found good friends here, those of my religion. "He very good man," they say; "one banished priest; we must help him." I am no longer a vagabond--ride a good horse when I go to visit pupils in the country--stop at auberge--landlord comes to the door: "What do you please to want, sir?" "Only to bait my horse, that is all." Eh bien, landlord very polite; he not call me vagabond; I carry pistols in my pocket.

Myself. I know you do; I have often seen them. But why do you carry pistols?

D'Eterville. I ride along the road from the distant village. I have been to visit my pupil whom I instruct in philology. My pupil has paid me my bill, and I carry in my purse the fruits of my philology. I come to one dark spot. Suddenly my bridle is seized, and one tall robber stands at my horse's head with a very clumsy club in his hand. "Stand, rascal," says he; "your life or your purse!" "Very good, sir," I respond; "there you have it." So I put my hand, not into my pocket, but into my holster; I draw out, not my purse, but my weapon, and--bang! I shoot the English robber through the head.

Myself. It is a bad thing to shed blood; I should be loth to shoot a robber to save a purse.

D'Eterville. Que tu es bete! mon ami. Am I to be robbed of the fruits of my philology, made in foreign land, by one English robber? Shall I become once more one vagabond as of old? one exiled priest turned from people's doors, my shoe broken, toe sticking through it, like that bad poet who put the Pope in hell? Bah, bah!

By degrees D'Eterville acquired a considerable fortune for one in his station. Some people go so far as to say that it was principally made by an extensive contraband trade in which he was engaged. Be this as it may, some twenty years from the time of which I am speaking, he departed this life, and shortly before his death his fellow-religionists, who knew him to be wealthy, persuaded him to make a will, by which he bequeathed all his property to certain popish establishments in England. In his last hours, however, he repented, destroyed his first will, and made another, in which he left all he had to certain of his relations in his native country;--"for," said he, "they think me one fool, but I will show them that they are mistaken. I came to this land one banished priest, where I made one small fortune; and now I am dying, to whom should I leave the fruits of my philology but to my blood-relations? In God's name, let me sign. Monsieur Boileau left the fruits of his verses to his niece; eh bien, I will bequeath the fruits of my philology to my niece and nephew. There, there! thanks be to God, it is done! They take me for a fool; I am no fool. Leave to the Pope the fruits of my philology! Bah, bah! I do no such thing. I do like Monsieur Boileau."]

Page 93. Earl's Home: Earlham Hall, the residence of Joseph John Gurney (1788-1847), the Norwich banker and famous Quaker. The "tall figure" mentioned on the next page was Mr. Gurney, then twenty-eight years of age.--95. Only read Greek: This is a mistake. Mr. Gurney was an early student of Italian. See Braithwaite's Life, i., pp. 25 and 49.--Zohar: Very correct. Braithwaite, i., p. 37.--Abarbenel, read Abarb_a_nel or Abrabanel: A Spanish Jew driven from Spain in 1492. See p. 282.--97. Castle Hill: Norwich.--97. Fair of horses: Tombland Fair, held on Maundy Thursday every year.--100. Heath: Mousehold Heath, near Norwich. See also pp. 106, 161, etc.--112. "Gemiti, sospiri ed alti guai" (compare Dante, Inf., iii., 8: "Quivi sospiri, pianti, e alti guai"): Groans, sighs, and deep lamentations.--114. Ab Gwilym: See Bibliog. at the end of Romany Rye.--114. Cowydd: A species of Welsh poetry.--114. Eos (W.); Nightingale.--114. Narrow Court: Tuck's Court, St. Giles, Norwich.--115. Old master: William Simpson of the law firm of Simpson & Rackham, Norwich.--115. Bon jour: read "Bonjour . . . ! bien des chases de ma part a Monsieur Peyrecourt or Pierrecourt". "Expressions" in this sense (kind regards) is the Spanish expresiones, disguised as French.--118. Bwa Bach: The "little hunchback". See p. 114.--119 to 125. Parkinson the poet: This character, who appears for the first time among the inedited episodes of Lavengro, was a real one, although his true name (Parkerson) is given somewhat veiled, as usual with Mr. Borrow. He seems to have been the poet-laureate of farmers, corn-merchants, drovers and publicans, selling his muse to the highest bidder, at first in printed sheets of eight pages, and subsequently gathered into pamphlets of thirty or more pages which he offered for one or two shillings each. They were printed by R. Walker, "near the Duke's Palace, Norwich," and sold by "Lane and Walker, St. Andrew's". They are without date, but cannot range far from 1818. Here are some specimens of his style: "The Norwich Corn Mart. By J. Parkerson, Junior."

At one o'clock the busy scene begin, Quick to the hall they all are posting in; The cautious merchant takes his stand, The farmer shows the produce of his land,

etc., for sixty-six lines. "On Mr. L . . . taking leave of his wife and children, who was sentenced to transportation for fourteen years" (!):--

Hannah, farewell, I'm bound to go, To taste the bitter draught of woe,

134 lines. "A Description of the Pine-Apple at Trowse":--

Both Beauty and Art have exerted their skill, You will find on a spot near the brow of a hill; The hill is near Norwich and call'd Bracondale, I stept into Vince's myself to regale,

etc., four pages of that.--124. Mr. C.: Thomas William Coke, Esq., of Holkham, Earl of Leicester in 1837, and died in 1842.

Pages 128-133. The Wake of Freya: This incident must have occurred to Mrs. Borrow at her home, Dumpling Green, East Dereham, on a Friday night, 5th December, 1783, when she was twelve (not "ten") years old. Her eldest sister, Elizabeth, would be in her seventeenth year. Friday was then, as now, market day at Dereham. The place was the Blyth farm about one and a half miles (not "three") from "pretty D". The superstition referred to in this episode is, or was, a very common one in Norfolk, and even other countries. See the Norfolk Chronicle for 14th May, 1791; Glyde's Norfolk Garland, pp. 13-14, and George Borrow in the Quarterly Review for January, 1861, p. 62.--130. Freya: The Venus of the North was the sister of Frey, according to Mallet (p. 94), and the original sources.--136. To London: Crome (John's teacher) died at Norwich, 22nd April, 1821; but John could not leave until after the Regimental Training, which closed that year on 26th June; hence his departure may be set down for the last of June, 1821.--136. Rafael: Note spelling here (also pp. 223 and 225) and Raphael on p. 352.--137. Corregio, read Correggio.--139. Murray and Latroon, the Scotch outlaw and the "English Rogue". See Bibliog. at the end of Romany Rye.--142. "Draoitheac," magic, read draoidheachd (Ir.).--144. Muggletonians: Evidently a Borrovian slip here. See Notes and Queries for 3rd April, 1852, p. 320.--145. Vedel: Anders Sorensen Vedel, first collector of the Kiaempeviser, or Heroic Ballads of the Danes, Copenh., 1591.--146. Chapter xxiii.: Interview between William Taylor (21 King Street, Norwich) and George Borrow.--151. Orm Ungarswayne: "Orm the youthful Swain," Romantic Ballads, p. 86. But see the Danish ballad "Birting" in Borrow's Targum, St. Petersb., 1835, pp. 59-61, commencing:--

"It was late at evening tide, Sinks the day-star in the wave, When alone Orm Ungarswayne Rode to seek his father's grave".

--151. Swayne Vonved: See this piece in Romantic Ballads, pp. 61-81.--151. Mousha, read Muca, in Arabic or Moshe in Hebrew; both represent our Moses. But the Jew's name was Levi, according to the MS.--153. The Fight: Between Painter and Oliver, near North Walsham, 17th July, 1820. This chapter xxiv. relates the author's call on Mr. Petre of Westwick House, which must have been after 20th May, when it was decided that the "battle" should take place within twenty miles of Norwich.--155. Parr: There were two Parrs, one, Thomas, called "English" or "Old" Parr (1483-1635) who lived 152 years, and Samuel, called the "Greek" Parr (1747-1825,) who had been Head Master of the Norwich Grammar School from 1778 to 1785. This Dr. Samuel Parr was the one referred to by Mr. Petre.--155. Whiter: Rev. Walter Whiter, author of the Commentary on Shakespeare, Lond. 1794, and Etymologicum Magnum, Camb., 1800, 4to; enlarged ed., Camb., 1822-25, 3 vols. 4to.--156. Game Chicken: Henry Pierce, nicknamed Game Chicken, beat Gulley, 8th October, 1805 (Egan's Boxiana, i., p. 145).--156. Sporting Gentlemen: John Thurtell and Edward Painter ("Ned Flatnose").--158. Harmanbeck: Slang for constable--word taken from the English Rogue.--161. Batuschca (read Batyooshca): See p. 43.--161. Priberjensky, read Preobrazhenski: Crack regiment of the Russian Imperial Guard, so called from the barracks situated near the Church of the Transfiguration (Preobrazhenie).

Page 166. The Fight of 1820, chapter xxvi. We will here give a condensed portion of a chapter which we suppressed from the Life.

On the 20th of May, 1820, an eager crowd might have been seen pressing up to a card displayed in the Castle Tavern, Norwich. The card was signed T. C. and T. Belcher; but every one knew that the initials stood for the Champion of England, Thomas Cribb. The purport of the notice was that Edward Painter of Norwich was to fight Thomas Oliver of London for a purse of 100 guineas, on Monday, the 17th of July, in a field within twenty miles of the city.

A few days after this announcement, George Borrow was charged by his principals to convey a sum of money to a country gentleman by the name of John Berney Petre, Esq., J.P., residing at Westwick House, some thirteen and a half miles distant on the North Walsham road. The gentleman was just settling the transfer of his inheritance, his father having died eight months before. Borrow walked the entire distance, and while he tarried with the magistrate, the interview took place between him and Thurtell who desired to secure a field for the fight. Mr. Petre could not accommodate them, and they drove on to North Walsham. There they found the "pightle" which suited them in the vicinity of that town, on the road leading to Happisburgh (Hazebro).

Norwich began to fill on Saturday, the 15th of July, as the stage-coaches rolled in by the London (now Ipswich) and Newmarket roads. The Inn attached to the Bowling Green on Chapel-Field, then kept by the famous one-legged ex-coachman Dan Gurney (p. 167), was the favourite resort of the "great men" of the day. Belcher, not old Belcher of 1791, but the "Teucer" Belcher, and Cribb, the champion of England, slept at the Castle Tavern, which like Janus had two faces--backed on the Meadows and fronted on White-Lion. The Norfolk in St. Giles and the Angel on the "Walk," housed other varieties of the sporting world.

At an early hour on Monday, the 17th, the roads were alive with pedestrians, equestrians, Jews, Gentiles and Gypsies, in coaches, barouches and vehicles of every sort. From Norwich they streamed down Tombland into Magdalen street and road, out on the Coltishall highway, and thence--sixteen and one half miles in all--to North Walsham and the field. One ancient MacGowan (the Scotch for Petulengro) stood on Coltishall bridge and counted 2050 carriages as they swept past. More than 25,000 men and thieves gathered in concentric circles about the stand.

I do not propose to attempt the description of this celebrated pugna or "battle with the fists". Those who crave such diversions will find this one portrayed fittingly in the newspapers of the time. The closing passage of one of them has always seemed to me to be a masterpiece of grim brutality: "Oliver's nob was exchequered, and he fell by heavy right- handed blows on his ears and temple. When on his second's knee, his head dangled about like a poppy after a shower."

A second fight, this time between Sampson, called the "Birmingham boy," and Martin the "baker," lost much of its interest by reason of the storm described in Lavengro. "During the contest," says the Norfolk Chronicle, "a most tremendous black cloud informed the spectators that a rare sousing was in preparation for them." And the Mercury states that "the heavy rain drenched the field, and most betook themselves to a retreat, but the rats were all drinkled". Thus the "cloud" was no fiction, by which the Gypsy foretold the dreadful fate awaiting John Thurtell before Hertford gaol, 9th January, 1824. Ned Painter never fought again. He was landlord of the White Hart Inn from 1823 to 1835. The present proprietor still shows his portrait there, with the above fact duly inscribed on the back of the frame.

Page 168. Public: The Castle Tavern, Holborn, kept by Tom Belcher--the "Daffy Club".--169. "Here's a health to old honest John Bull:" The verses were taken from a rare old volume entitled: The Norwich Minstrel, p. 30, (See Bibliog.):--

"HONEST JOHN BULL."

"Here's a health to 'Old honest John Bull'; When he's gone we shan't find such another; With hearts and with glasses brim full, We'll drink to 'Britannia, his mother'; For she gave him a good education, Bade him keep to his God and his King, Be loyal and true to the nation, And then to get merry and sing.

"For John is a good-natured fellow, Industrious, honest and brave; Not afraid of his betters when mellow, For betters he knows he must have. There must be fine lords and fine ladies, There must be some little, some great; Their wealth the support of our trade is, Our trade the support of the State.

"Some were born for the court and the city, And some for the village and cot; For it would be a dolorous ditty, If we were born 'equal in lot'. If our ships had no pilots to steer, What would come of poor Jack on the shrouds? Or our troops no commanders to fear, They would soon be arm'd robbers in crowds.

"The plough and the loom would stand still, If we were made gentlefolks all; If clodhoppers--who then would fill The parliament, pulpit or hall? 'Rights of Man' makes a very fine sound, 'Equal riches' a plausible tale; Whose labourers would then till the ground? All would drink, but who'd brew the ale?

"Half naked and starv'd, in the streets We should wander about, sans culottes; Would Liberty find us in meats, Or Equality lengthen our coats? That knaves are for levelling, don't wonder, We may easily guess at their views; Pray, who'd gain the most by the plunder? Why, they that have nothing to lose.

"Then away with this nonsense and stuff, Full of treason, confusion and blood; Every Briton has freedom enough To be happy as long as he's good. To be rul'd by a glorious king, To be govern'd by jury and laws; Then let us be happy and sing, 'This, this, is true Liberty's cause'."

Page 174. Haik, read Haik: Armenian.--178. Conqueror of Tippoo Sahib: General Harris (1791).--181. March: The exact date was discovered by me in private letters in Norwich. See Life, i., p. 91. George left Norwich on the evening of 1st April, 1824, and consequently reached London early on the morning of 2nd April.--182. Lodging: No. 16 Millman Street, Bedford Row.--185. The publisher: Sir Richard Phillips.--185. Mr. so-and-so: Taylor of Norwich.--186. The Magazine: The Monthly Magazine; or, British Register.--187. The Oxford Review: The Universal Review; or, Chronicle of the Literature of all Nations. No. 1, March, 1824, to No. 6, January, 1825. See also pp. 190, 203 and ff.--191. Red Julius, called elsewhere by Borrow Iolo Goch: A Welsh bard of the fifteenth century.--193. Caesar's Castle: The Tower of London.--194 and 423. Blessed Mary Flanders: Defoe's Moll Flanders, See Bibliog. at the end of Romany Rye.--197. Booksellers' shop: The shop was a depository of the Religious Tract Society, the publishers of Legh Richmond's Annals of the Poor, of which the first section was the Dairyman's Daughter (pp. 101).--203. Newly married: Richard, Jr., m. Feb., 1823.--204. "Newgate Lives": The true title was: Celebrated Trials, and Remarkable Cases of Criminal Jurisprudence, from the earliest records to the year 1825, Lond., 1825 (February), 6 vols. 8vo.--205. Translator of "Faustus": Faust, a Drama by Goethe, and Schiller's Song of the Bell; translated by Lord Francis Leveson Gower, Lond., J. Murray, 1823, 8vo; 2nd ed., enlarged, ibid., 1825, 2 vols. 8vo.--208. Translator of Quintilian: I doubt whether this was John Carey, LL.D. (1756-1826), who published an edition of Quintilian, 1822, but no translation. My information is positive that it was Wm. Gifford, translator of Juvenal, 1802, 3rd ed. 1817.--215. Oxford: This constant satirising of the great English university in connection with the publisher's theory, doubtless grew out of a series of articles printed in the Magazine during the years '23 and '24, and which may be summarised by this notice in vol. lvi., p. 349: "In a few days will appear a series of Dialogues between an Oxford Tutor and a Disciple of the new Commonsense Philosophy; in which the mechanical principles of matter and motion will be accurately contrasted with the theories of occult powers which are at present cherished by the Universities and Royal Associations throughout Europe".--220. Churchyard: St. Giles churchyard where Capt. Borrow was buried on the 4th of March previous.--220. A New Mayor: Inexact. Robert Hawkes was mayor of Norwich in 1822. Therefore he was now ex-mayor--220. Man with a Hump: Thomas Osborn Springfield, was not a watchmaker so far as is known in Norwich, but "carried on the wholesale silk business, having almost a monopoly of the market" (Bayne's Norwich, p. 588).--221. Painter of the heroic: Benjamin Robert Haydon (1785-1846).--224. Norman Arch: The grand entrance and exit to the Norwich Cathedral, west side.--225. Snap: The Snap-Dragon of Norwich is the Tarasque of the south of France, and the Tarasca of Corpus day in Spain. It represents a Dragon or monster with hideous jaws, supported by men concealed, all but their legs, within its capacious belly, and carried about in civic processions prior to the year 1835; even now it is seen on Guy Fawkes' day, the 5th of November.--Whiffler: An official character of the old Norwich Corporation, strangely uniformed and accoutred, who headed the annual procession on Guildhall day, flourishing a sword in a marvellous manner. All this was abolished on the passage of the Municipal Reform Act in 1835. As a consequence, says a contemporaneous writer, "the Aldermen left off wearing their scarlet gowns, Snap was laid up on a shelf in the 'Sword Room' in the Guildhall, and the Whifflers no longer danced at the head of the procession in their picturesque costume. It was a pretty sight, and their skill in flourishing their short swords was marvellous to behold." See Romany Rye, pp. 349-50.--Billy Blind and Owlenglass (Till Eulenspiegel): See Bibliography.--228. Brandt and Struensee: For High- Treason in Denmark, 1772. See Celebrated Trials, iv., p. 465; and for Richard Patch ("yeoman Patch"), 1805, vol. v., p. 584.--229. Lord Byron: The remains of the poet lay in state from Friday 9th July, 1824, in Sir Edward Knatchbull's house, Great George Street, to Monday the 12th when they were conveyed to Hucknall-Torkard in Nottinghamshire. On that day (12th July) Borrow witnessed the procession as described in the text.--233. Carolan's Receipt: Torlough (i.e., Charles) O'Carolan, the celebrated Irish harper and bard, was born at Nobber, Co. Meath, in 1670, and died in 1738. See Alfred Webb's Compendium of Irish Biography, Dublin, 1878, p. 372; J. C. Walker's Irish Bards, 1786, App., pp. 86- 87, and Dict. of Nat. Biog., xli., p. 343. The "Receipt" in Irish is in Walker, and at the end of Vallancey's Irish Grammar, second ed., Dublin, 1781. {565} Here is the translation given in Walker:--

"When by sickness or sorrow assail'd, To the mansion of Stafford I hie'd His advice or his cordial ne'er fail'd To relieve me--nor e'er was denied.

"At midnight our glasses went round, In the morning a cup he would send; By the force of his wit he has found That my life did on drinking depend.

"With the spirit of Whiskey inspir'd, By my Harp e'en the pow'r is confess'd; 'Tis then that my genius is fir'd, 'Tis then I sing sweetest and best.

"Ye friends and ye neighbours draw near, Attend to the close of my song; Remember, if life you hold dear, That drinking your life will prolong."

Curiously enough among the subscribers to the Romantic Ballads, Norwich, 1826, we find these names: (p. 185) "F. Arden, Esq., London, five copies," "T. G. O'Donnahoo, Esq., London, five copies;" (p. 187) "Mr. J. Turner, London".

Page 244. The Review: The Review actually ceased January, 1825, with its sixth number.--268. Laham: In Heb. bread is lehem; but our author probably wrote it by sound. Z'hats is the acc. of hats, the Arm. for bread; for as Borrow's source, old Villotte (1714), says: "Accusativus praefigit nominativo literam z".--270 and 286. Mesroub, read Miesrob, who, about A.D. 450 introduced the Armenian alphabet. 271. Sea in Arm. is dzow. See Romany Rye, p. 356--281. Adelante (Span.): Come in.--281. Bueno (Span.): Good. This sound of the word bueno, heard in 1825 from the Jew Manasseh, was brought to Borrow's memory in 1836 when he met the Jew Abarbanel on the roads in Spain. See B. in S., p. 65, sm. ed.--282. Una vez, etc. (Span.): On one occasion when he was intoxicated.--282. Goyim (Heb.): Nations, Gentiles.--282. Lasan akhades, read Lashon haqqodesh: Sacred language, i.e., Hebrew.--282. Janin: Wine in Heb. is yayim (not yanin), but our author quoted correctly from the Dialoghi di Amore composti per Leone Medico, Vinegia, 1541, and the Span. ed. (which I use): Los Dialogos de Amor de mestre Leon Abarbanel medico y Filosofo excelente, Venetia, 1568, sm. 410 (Bodleian). The passage is: "And he (Noah), after the flood, was called Janus on account of his invention of wine, for Janin in Hebrew signifies wine, and he is represented with two faces turned in opposite directions, because he saw before the flood and after it". {566} G. B. always writes Abarb_e_nel for Abarb_a_nel. His true name was Leo Abrabanel.--282. Janinoso (Judaeo-Span.) meaning vinosus, intoxicated.--283. Epicouraiyim: Christians, as below, the "Epicureans," for so the rabbis of the East call us in the West--properly, "unbelievers". But Borrow's form is not found in Buxtorf (1869)--read [unknown Hebrew text] Epikurosin and (pop.) Epikurin.--285. Sephardim: Spanish and Portuguese Jews, as the Ashkenazim are the German Jews.--290 to 301. I am at . . .: Greenwich, Blackheath and Shooter's Hill (301).--304. Colonel B. . . .: Col. Blood. See Celebrated Trials, vol. ii., pp. 248-354: "Thomas Blood, generally called Colonel Blood, who stole the crown from the Tower of London, 1671".--317. Got fare to . . ., read Amesbury, Wilts.--323. City of the Spire: Salisbury.--325. From . . ., read Bristol.--330. Stranger: Could not be William Beckford (1759-1844) of Fonthill Park, three miles from Hinton, a dozen or fifteen miles from Salisbury. Besides the place was sold in 1822 and George Mortimer occupied it in 1825. Borrow had been walking five days in a N.W. direction from Salisbury, and all his narrative harmonises with the places and dates that bring him to Horncastle in August, 1825--362. Abedariums, read abecedariums.--363. Flaming Tinman: He is also called by Borrow, Blazing Tinman, Flying Tinker, Blazing Bosville or Boswell, and finally Anselo Herne, his true clan-name.--367. Ten years ago, i.e., thirteen, when he was at Tamworth in April or May, 1812.--377. The Romany chi, etc.: See p. 387 for the translation.--379. Answer to the gillie: The Rommany churl and the Rommany girl love thieving and spaeing and lying and everything but honesty and truth.--390. Peth yw, etc. (W.): What is that lying there on the ground? Yn wirionedd, in truth, surely.--390. Gwenwyn: Poison! Poison! the lad has been poisoned!--394. Hanged the mayor: The suppressed name of the Welshman and the whole account of the affair is given in Wild Wales, p. 7 (chapter iii).--404. Bardd Cwsg: The Sleeping Bard, by Ellis Wynn. See Bibliog.--421. Merddin Wyllt (Myrddin): i.e., Wild Merlin, called the Wizard.--423. Found written: See Moll Flanders by Defoe, p. 188, ed. 1722: "Oh! what a felicity is it to mankind," said I, "that they cannot see into the hearts of one another!" I have carefully re-read the whole volume of Moll Flanders, and find no such passages as those referred to here, save the one above. Hence, we may justly infer that Borrow quoted the spirit, rather than the words, of his author. See Romany Rye, pp. 305-6.--431. Catraeth, read Cattraeth. The reference is to Aneurin's book, the Gododin, or Battle of Cattraeth. See Bibliog.--432. Fish or flesh: See Borrow's Targum, St. Petersb., 1835, p. 76, under the "History of Taliesin," ending:--

"I saw the end with horror Of Sodom and Gomorrah! And with this very eye Have seen the [Trinity]; I till the judgment day Upon the earth shall stray: None knows for certainty Whether fish or flesh I be."

The original Welsh of the "Hanes Taliesin" is in the Gorchestion Beirdd Cymru, 1773--Bibliog. at the end of Romany Rye.--432. Take this: This Bible, with Peter Williams' name in it, was sold in London in 1886 out of Geo. Borrow's collection.--443. Mumpers' Dingle: Near Willenhall, Staffordshire. The place is properly Momber or Monmer Lane, and is now occupied by the "Monmer Lane Ironworks," hence totally obliterated.--444. Volundr (Volundr): The Wayland Smith of Northern legends. See in the Bibliog. under "Wayland Smith," and Mallet, p. 570.--456. Ingeborg: The lines are from the Romantic Ballads of 1826, p. 58, entitled the "Heroes of Dovrefeld. From the old Danish."--456. "As I was jawing:" Text and translation of the whole eight lines are found on pp. 182-83 of the Lavo-Lil, 1874:--

As I to the town was going one day My Roman lass I met by the way.

The MS. is somewhat different--"Rommany" instead of Roman, and the last line, "If you will share my lot with me".--469. The man in black: This priest seems to have been a Fraser of Lovat. See Romany Rye, p. 25, and "Arbuthnot" in the Bibliog.--481. Armenian: It must be remembered that Borrow's Armenian was limited to the Introduction, Grammar and Lat.-Arm. Dict. of the Jesuit Joseph Villotte, 1714, fol., which he picked up at Norwich in 1822-23 as he tells us on p. 175, and Romany Rye, p. 92. Hence all his examples are taken from that book--mi, one; yergou, two; yerek, three, and those in Romany Rye.--482. Buona sera (It.): Good evening.--482. Per far visita, etc.: To pay your lordship a call, that is my motive.--486. Che io non, etc., read ch' in, etc.: That I do not believe at all.--488. Addio: Farewell.--497. Pulci: See the Bibliog. This version is rather free and local. Here is the original (canto xviii., f. 97, ed. 1546):--

Rispose allhor Margutte: "A dirtel tosto, Io non credo piu al nero ch' a l'azzurro, Ma nel cappone, o lesso, o, vuogli, arrosto, E credo alcuna volta anco nel burro, Nella cervogia, e, quando io n'ho, nel mosto, E molto pui nell' aspro che il mangurro, Ma sopra tutto nel buon vino ho fede, E credo che sia salvo chi gli crede."

503. O Cavaliere, etc.: Oh, Sir Walter, ye have wrought much in behalf of the Holy See!--504. Poveri frati: Poor friars!--508. One fellow I met: See the postillion's story on pp. 536-48.--513. Master in Arm. is d'yer; of a master, d'yearn; pl., d'yeark.--515. Koul Adonai, read Kol A. The next quotation is from part of verse 4 of the xxixth Psalm, which he gives according to the prayer-book version.

LIST OF GYPSY WORDS IN LAVENGRO

Adrey, in.

Ambrol, pear.

Ande, in, into.

Andre, in, within.

Angar, charcoal, coals.

Apopli, again.

Aukko, here is.

Ava, yes.

Avali, yes.

Avella, comes, is coming.

Baro, large, big.

Bawlor, swine.

Bebee (aunt), grandmother.

Bengui, devil.

Bitchadey, pl. sent.

Bitchadey pawdel (p. 300), an error for bitchado pawdel, sing.

Boro, great.

Borodromengro, highwayman.

Boro foros, London.

Cafi, horse-shoe nail.

Cana, when.

Caulor, shillings.

Chabe, pl. of

Chabo, child, lad, Gypsy.

Chachipen, truth.

Chal, lad, Gypsy.

Chal Devlehi, go with God, farewell.

Chavo, i.q. chabo.

Chi, girl, lass, Gypsy.

Chinomescro, chisel.

Chipes, pl. tongues.

Chive, to throw; pass (bad money).

Chivios, he or it is cast.

Chong, hill.

Chong gav, Norwich.

Churi, knife.

Coor, to strike, hammer.

Cooromengro, boxer.

Covantza, anvil.

Dearginni (Hung. G.), it thunders.

Dinelo, a fool, silly.

Divvus, day.

Dloovu, money (for lovo).

Dook, to bewitch, to spirit away.

Dook, spirit, soul, divining spirit, demon, ghost.

Dosta, enough.

Dovey odoi, that there, up yonder.

Drab, herb, poison.

Drab, to poison.

Drom, road, way.

Drow (often pl.), drugs; poison.

Dui, two.

Dukker_in_ (the in is Eng. "ing"), any one's fortune, or fortunes, fate, fortune-telling.

Dukker_in_ dook, the fortune-telling or divining spirit or demon.

Dukkeripen, fortune-telling.

Duvel, God.

Duvelskoe, divine.

Engro (mere ending), Borrovian for "master," "fellow," "chap".

Foros, city, town.

Gav, village, town.

Gillie, song, ditty.

Gorgio, non-gypsy, stranger, somebody, police. G. avella, some one is coming. G. shunella, some one is listening. G.'s welling, the police are about.

Gorgious, adj. formed from gorgio.

Grandbabee, see bebee.

Grondinni (Roumanian G.), it hails.

Gry, horse, pony.

Harkomescro, tinker.

Hinjiri, executioner.

Hir mi Devlis, by my G---.

Hokkeripen, falsehood.

Jaw, to go. Jaw-ing, going.

Jib, tongue, language.

Juggal, dog.

Juwa, woman.

Kauley, f. of

Kaulo, black, dark.

Kaulomescro, blacksmith.

Kaured, stole.

Kekaubi, kettle.

Ker, house.

Kosko, good.

Kral or Krallis, king.

Lachipen, honesty.

Lavengro, "word-master," "philologist".

Leste, him.

Lil, book.

Loovu, coin, money.

Lundra, London.

Luripen, theft, robbery.

Mailla, donkey.

Manricli, cake.

Manro, bread.

Manus, man.

Marel (read merel), dies.

Men, we.

Mensar (read mensa), with us.

Miro, my.

Morro, bread.

Muchtar, tool-box.

Nashkado, lost, hanged.

Nashky, gallows.

O, the.

Odoi, there; dovey o., yonder.

Pa, over, for.

Pal, brother, friend, mate.

Palor, brothers.

Parraco, I thank.

Pawdel, on the other side, across; bitchadey p., transported.

Pen, to say, to tell; penning, telling.

Peshota, pl. bellows.

Petul, horse-shoe.

Petulengro, smith.

Pindro, hoof, foot.

Pios, health (in toasting).

Plaistra, pincers.

Plastramengro, runner, detective.

Poknees, magistrate.

Prala (voc.). brother.

Pudamengro, blower, bellows.

Puro, old, ancient.

Puv, earth, ground.

Ran, stick, cane.

Rati, blood, stock.

Rikkeni, f. of

Rikkeno, pretty, fine.

Rin, file.

Rom, husband; Gypsy.

Roman, Borrovian for Gypsy.

Romaneskoenaes, in Gypsy fashion.

Romanly (Bor.), in Gypsy, G.-like.

Romano, Gypsy.

Rome and dree (Rom andre?) Gypsy at heart.

Romi, wife.

Rommanis, in Gypsy.

Rommany, Gypsy.

Rommany Chal, Eng. Gypsy.

Rommany Chi, f. Eng. Gypsy-girl.

Rovel, weeps.

Rye, gentleman; farming r., farmer.

Sap, snake.

Sapengro, snake-catcher.

Sastra, iron.

Sastramescro, worker in iron, smith.

Scoppelo, ninny.

Sherengro, head man.

Shoon, to hear, to listen.

Shukaro, hammer.

Shunella, is listening.

Si, is, are.

Sore, all (who).

Ta, and.

Tacho rommanis, faithful wife.

Tan, tent.

Tasaulor (ta-sorlo), to-morrow.

Tatchipen, truth.

Tawno Chickno, "Shorty".

Tu, thy.

Tute, thee.

Vagescoe chipes, tongues of fire.

Villaminni (Hung. G.), it lightens.

Wafodo, bad, false.

Welling (corruption of avella), coming. G.'s welling, "the hawks are abroad".

Wesh, forest.

Yag, fire.

Yeck, one.

Zigan (Slavic), Gypsy.

Zingaro (Italian), Gypsy.

PRINTED BY HAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD., LONDON AND AYLESBURY

Footnotes:

{0a} We are all relations, all alike; all who are with us are ourselves.

{0b} Chal is simply the contraction of chaval, a form cognate with chavoro the diminutive of chavo, a lad. Chaval is still common in Spain, both among the Gypsies and the lower orders of Spaniards.--ED.

{1a} MS., "On the fifth day of July, 1803, at East D---, a beautiful little town in the western division of Norfolk, I first saw the light".

{1b} "In Cornwall are the best gentlemen."--Corn. Prov.

{2a} MS., "after being insulted by him".

{2b} So in MSS.; "manly," an erratum.

{3} MS., "Orford".

{13} Norwegian ells--about eight feet.

{23} MS., "in regimental slang".

{34} MS., "Ambrose" throughout the book.

{81} MS., "like the philologist Scaliger, who, though acquainted with the exact value of every word in the Latin language, could see no beauty in the 'Enchantments of Canidia,' the masterpiece of the prince of Roman poets. What knew he," etc.

{112} MS. note: "Written in 1843".

{115} MS., "a Monsieur Peyrecourt" or "Pierrecourt".

{126} MS., "Simpson".

{137} Klopstock.

{158} MS., "John Thurtell".

{185} MS., "Bartlett".

{187} MS., "Saviour".

{190} MS., "High Tory principles".

{201} MS., "Arden" throughout.

{210} The MS. develops this paragraph as follows:--

So Francis Ardry called upon me, and right glad I was that he did so; and after we had sat conversing for some time, he said, "Did you ever see Kean?"

"No," said I, "but I have heard both of him and of Belcher. I should like to see either, especially the latter. Where are they to be found?"

"I know nothing of the latter," said Frank, "but if you wish to see Kean, you had better come with me where he will appear to-night after a long absence. The public are anxiously waiting for him, intending to pelt him off the stage."

"And what has he done," said I, "to be pelted off the stage?"

"What is very naughty," said Frank; "breaking one of the commandments."

"And did he break the commandment on the stage?"

"No," said Frank, "I never heard that he broke it on the stage, except in the way of his profession."

"Then, what have the public to do with the matter?"

"They think they have," said Frank.

And then we went out together to see Shakespeare's "Richard," or rather we went to see the man who was to personate Shakespeare's "Richard"--and so did thousands; we did not see him, however. There was a great tumult, I remember, in the theatre. The man who was to perform the part of Richard, and who it was said was the best hand for interpreting the character that had ever appeared on the stage, had a short time before been involved in a disgraceful affair, and this was to be his first appearance on the stage since the discovery. The consequence was that crowds flocked to the theatre with the firm intention of expressing their indignation. "We will pelt his eyes out," said a man who sat beside me in the pit--for we sat in the pit--and who bore the breach of all the commandments in his face. The actor in question, however, who perhaps heard the threats which were vented against him, very prudently kept out of the way, and the manager coming forward informed the public that another would perform the part--whereupon there was a great uproar. "We have been imposed upon," said the individual who sat beside me. "I came here for nothing else than to pelt that scoundrel off the stage." The uproar, however, at length subsided, and the piece commenced. In a little time there was loud applause. The actor who had appeared in place of the other was performing. "What do you clap for?" said I to the individual by my side, who was clapping most of all. "What do I clap for?" said the man. "Why, to encourage Macready, to be sure. Don't you see how divinely he acts? why, he beats Kean hollow. Besides that, he's a moral man, and I like morality." "Do you mean to say," said I, "that he was never immoral?" "I neither know nor care," said the man; "all I know is that he has never been found out. It will never do to encourage a public man who has been found out. No, no! the morality of the stage must be seen after."

{212} MS. "Charlie" and "Charlie's" throughout.

{222} The MS. adds: "'It will, perhaps, be as well, first of all, to go to the exhibition of British art, which is at present open. I hear he has a picture there, which he has just finished. We will look at it, and from that you may form a tolerable estimate of his powers.' Thereupon my brother led the way, and we presently found ourselves in the Gallery of British Art."

{231} Arden throughout the MS.

{232} The text is: "Malheur, as the French say, that it is so choked".

{235} "Bishop Sharpe," a pugilist of that name and time.

{236} Three are after my death.

{249} MS. (apparently) "L---," but see p. 276.

{250a} MS., "is quite as rational an amusement as politics".

{250b} Le Noir in MS. A, and in Rom. Rye, app.

{251a} MS., "L---," or "T."

{251b} MS., "Canning".

{350} MS., "The Times".

{484} MS. "Lord A[berdeen]".

{553} The one sole emendation consists in substituting the masc. cheval for the fem. jument, on p. 314. Le jument est beau was a solecism that could not longer be tolerated.

{555} Boxiana, ii., 497.

{565} Beginning--

Mas tinn no slan atharlaigheas fein, Do ghluais me tra, agus bfheirde me, Air cuairt an Seoin le socal dfhaghail, "An Stafartach saimh, nach gnath gan cheill."

{566} "El qual (Noe) despues del diluuio, por su inuencion del uino, fue lhamado lano, porque Ianin en ebraico quiere dezir uino, y lo pintan con dos caras boltadas, porque tuuo uista antes del diluuio y despues" (Foja 71, verso).

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