General Bounce; or, the Lady and the Locusts

Front matter

General Bounce Or The Lady and the Locusts By the same Author Digby Grand, An Antobiographv Two Volumes Post Octavo 18_- General Bounce Or The Lady and the Locusts By G. J. Whyte Melville In Two Volumes Vol I London John W. Parker and Son West Strand LOIfPOI- PRINTED £T WBRTHEIMF.R J_H__> CO. CIRCVS PLACE, FINSBVRT CIRCUS jfz~0^MJ77^ HERE the Rose blushes in the garden, Fllilraiifi. there will the Bee and the Butterfly \MIIIIllttlI. k° found, humming and fluttering around. So is it in the world ; the fair girl, whose sweetness is enhanced by the fictitious advantages of wealth and position, will ever have lovers and admirers enough, and to spare. Burns was no bad judge of human nature ; and he has a stanza on this subject, combining the reflection of the philosopher with the canny discrimination of the Scot.

Away Avith your follies of beauty's alarms, The slender bit beauty you clasp in your arms ; But gie' me the lass that has acres of charms, Oh gie' me the lass with the weelplenished farms. Should the folloAving pages, reprinted from Fraser s Magazine, afford such attractive young ladies matter for a few moments' reflection, the Author will not have written in vain. May he hope they will choose Avell and wisely ; and that the withered rose, when she has lost her fragrance, may be fondly prized and gently tended by the hand that plucked her in her dewy morning prime. BODGHTON, 1854. CONTENTS OF VOL i

. . . . .232 CHAPTER Xn. CAMPAIGNING AT HOME . . . .257 CHAPTER XHI. THE WORLD ...... GENERAL BOUNCE; OR, THE LADY AND THE LOCUSTS.

Chapter I

Hi dusk. an Englishman's holiday — st. swithin's in a calm the merchant's ambition 'mon beau cousin' castles in the air a lively craft ' hairblower' and his cold bath. "I1TUCH as we think of ourselves, and with all our boasted civilization, we Anglo-Saxons are but a half barbarian race after aU. Nomadic, decidedly no madic in our tastes, feelings, and pursuits, it is but the moisture of our climate that keeps us in our own houses at all, and like our Scandinavian ancestors (for in Turf parlance we have several crosses of the old Norse blood in our veins) we delight periodically, that is, whenever we have a fortnight's dry weather, to migrate from our dwedings, and peopling the whole of our own sea-board, push our invading hordes over the greater part of Europe, nor refrain. VOL. I. B from thrusting our outposts even into the heart of Asia, tdl the astonished Mussulman, aghast at our vagaries, strokes his placid beard, and -with a blessing on his Prophet that he is not as we are, soothes his disgust with a sentiment, so often repeated that in the East it has become a proverb, viz., that ' There is one devd, and there are many devUs, but there is no devd Uke a Frank in a round hat !' It was but last autumn that stepping painfudy into our tador's shop — for, alas ! a course of London dinners cannot be persisted in, season after season, without producing a decided tendency to gout in the extremities — hobbling, then, into our tailor's ware house, as he caUs it, we were measured by an unfledged jackanapes, whose voice we had preAiously heard warning his brother fractions that can old gent, was a waitin' inside,' instead of that spruce foreman who, for more years than it is necessary to specify, has knoAvn our girth to an inch, and our weight to a pound.

Fearful that in place of the grave habit of broadcloth, which Ave affect as most suitable to our age and manner, we might find ourselves equipped in one of the many grotesque disguises in which young gentlemen now-a-days deem it be coming to hide themselves, and described by the jackanapes aforesaid, who stepped round us in dl concealed admiration of our corpulence, as ' a walking coat, a riding coat, a smoking coat, or a coat to go to the stable in!' we ventured to inquire for 'the person we usually saw,' and were informed that ' the gent, as waited on us last year had gone for a feAV months' holiday to the Heast.' Heavens and earth, Mr. Bobstitch was even then in Syria ! What a Scandinavian ! rather degenerate to be sure in size and ferocity, though Bobstitch, being a little man, is probably very terrible when roused, but yet no slight contrast to one of those gaunt, grim, russet-bearded giants that made the despot of the Lower Empire quake upon his throne.

And yet Bobstitch was but obeying the instinct which he inherits from the sea kings his ancestors, an instinct which in less adven turous souls than a tailor's fids our watering-places to overflowing, and pours the wealth while it intro duces the manners of the capital into every bight and bay that indents the shores of Britain. Doubtless the citizens are right. Let us, while we are in ScandinaA'ian vein, make use of an old Norse metaphor, and pressing into our service the two ravens of Odin, named Mind and Will, with these annihilate time and space, so as to be, like the Irish orator's bird, ' in two places at once.' Let us first of all take a retrospective glance at Mrs. Kettering's house in Grosvenor-square, one of the best houses, by the way, to be had in London for love or money. We recoUect it AveU, not so many years ago, lit up for one of those great solemnities which novelists call '- a rout/ but which people in real life equally mar tiaUy as well as metaphorically designate ' a drum.' To us creeping home along the pavement outside the fete, it seemed the reahzation of fairy land.

Row upon row, glaring carriage-lamps, Uke the fabulous monsters keeping watch, dluminated the square and adjoining streets, even to the public-house round the corner, that night driA-ing a highly remunerative trade, Avhilst on a nearer inspection magnificent horses (horses, like ladies, look most beautiful by candle-Ught), gorgeous carriages — none of your Broughams and Clarences, but large, roomy, weU hung family coaches, with cartoons of heraldry on the panels, gigantic footmen, and fat coachmen, struck the beholder Avith admiration not totaUy un mixed with awe. Then the awning that was to admit the privdeged to the inner realms of this earthly paradise, of which we the uninitiated might know but the exterior ; what a gauzy, gaudy transparency it was, no unfitting portal to that upper story from which the golden light was hardly veiled by jalousies and window-blinds.

Ever and anon much lashing of bay, brown, or chesnut sufferers, and the interference of a tall policeman, with a hat made on purpose to be assaulted by bludgeons, betokened the arrival of a fresh party, and angelic beings in white robes, with glossy hair, tripped daintily up the steps over a cloth, not of gold exactly, but of horse-hair, amongst a phalanx of uuAvashed faces, gazing half enviously at such loveliness in fud dress. How beautiful we used to think these apparitions as we plodded home to our quiet chambers ; but young Bareface, our connecting link -with the great Avorld, who goes to all the best places, through the influence of his aunt, Lady Champfront, assures us they don't look half so beautiful inside, and that he sees quite as pretty faces, and hair quite as nicely done, at the little gatherings in Russell-square and Bloomsbury, to Avhich even Ave might go if we liked.

A radical dog ! we don't believe a word of it. NeA'er mind, let us look at that house in the dead time of year. Without and within, from attics to basement, from the balcony facing the square to the empty bird-cage overlooking a precipice of offices at the back, Repose and Ennui reign supreme. — Were it not for the knocking of the workmen next door Ave might as well be in the great desert. There is, we presume, a woman in possession, but she has gone to ' get the beer,' aud if you have ever sighed for a toAvn-house, now is the time to be satisfied with your rustic lot, and to hug yourself that you are not paying ground-rent and taxes, church-rate, poor's-rate, and Avater-rate, drainage, lighting, and paving, for that ghastly palace of soot and cobwebs, dust, dreariness, and decay. There is a scaffolding up in every third house in the square, and workmen in paper caps, with foot-rules sticking out of their fustian trowsers, and complexions in grained Avith lime-dust, and guiltless of fresh water, seem to be the only inhabitants of this deserted region, and even they are, 'between earth and A AVATERING PLACE. heaven.' Brown and parched are the unfortunate shrubs in those gardens of which discontented house holders ' round the corner' coA*et so to possess a key; and the very birds, sparrows, every feather of 'em, hop about in dirty suits of plumage that can only be described as of that colour unknoAvn to naturalists, which other people call ' grimy.' Who would be in London in the autumn?

Not Mrs. Kettering certainly, if she might be elsewhere ; and although she had possessed this excellent and commodious family mansion, with aU its boudoirs, retreats, and appur tenances, so weU described in the advertisement, but a short time, and was not the giver of that ' reunion of fashionables' we have depicted above (indeed the hostess of that evening has since been economising up two pair of stairs at Antwerp); yet Mrs. Kettering having plenty of money, and being able to do what she liked, had -wisely moved herself, her fancies, her imperials, and her family to the coast, where, obeying the instinct for freedom that has driven Bobstitch to the desert, she was idly inhaling the salt breezes of the Channel, and dazzling her eyes with the sun-glint that sparkled over its dancing waves.

Some few years have elapsed since the events took place which we shaU endeavour to describe ; but the white cliffs of our island change little -with the lapse of time, though the sea does make its encroachments ever and anon when the wind has been blowing pretty steady from the south-west for a fortnight or so, and the same scene may be witnessed any fine day to wards the middle of August as that which we are about to contrast with the dulness, closeness, and confinement of the great town-house in Grosvenor square. First, we must imagine a real summer's day, such a day as in our island we seldom enjoy tdl summer has well-nigh given place to autumn, but which, when it does come, is worth waiting for. Talk of climate! a real fine day in England, like a reaUy handsome Englishwoman, beats creation.

Well, we must imagine one of these bright, hot, hay-making days, almost too warm and dusty ashore, but enjoy able beyond conception on the calm and oily waves, unruffled by the breeze, and Uterally as smooth as glass. A sea-bird occasionally dips her wing on the surface, and then flaps lazily away, as if she too was as much inclined to go to sleep as yonder moveless fleet of lugger, brig, bark, and schooner, with their empty sails, and their heads all round the compass. There is a warm haze towards the land, and the white houses of St. Swithin's seem to glow and sparkle in the heat, whilst to sea-ward a modified sort of mirage would make one fancy one could plainly distinguish the distant coast of France. Ashore, in those great houses, people are panting, and gasping, and creating thorough draughts that fill their rooms Avith a small white dust of a destructive tendency to aU personal property.

The children upstairs are running about in linen under-garments, somewhat more troublesome than usual, with a settled flush on their Uttle peach-like cheeks, and the shining streets are deserted, save by the per spiring pot-boy and the fly-men drinking beer in their shirt-sleeves. Only afloat is there a chance of being cool; and sailingboat, gig, dingy, and coble, ad are in requisition for the throng of amateur mariners, rushing like ducklings to the refreshing element. It was on just such a day as this that Mrs. Ket tering found it extremely difficult to ' trim the boat.' A mde or so from the shore, that boat was slowly progressing, impelled by the unequal strength of her nephew Charles, commonly caded ' Cousin Charlie,' and its worthy proprietor, a fine specimen of the genus ' seaman,' who certainly had a Christian name, and probably a patronymic, but had sunk both dis tinctions under the soubriquet of ' Hairblower,' by which appellation alone he was acknowledged by gentle and simple, bold and timid, delicate ladies and bluff fishermen, along many a mde of sea-board up and down from St. Swithin's. 'The least thing further, Master Charles,' said Hairblower, ever and anon pulling the stripling's efforts round with one hand. 'Don't ye disturb Madam — don't ye move, Miss Blanche ; it's not your weight that makes her rod.' And again he moistened the large, strong hand, and turned to look out ahead.

In vain Mrs. Kettering shut up her parasol, and shifted her seat ; in vain she disposed her ample figure, first in one uncomfortable position, then in another ; she could not ' trim the boat,' and the reason was simple enough. Mrs. Kettering's weight was that of a lady who had all her Use been ' a fine woman,' and was now somewhat past maturity ; whilst her daughter and only child, ' Blanche,' the occupant of the same bench, had but just arrived at that period when the girl begins to lengthen out into the woman, and the slight lanky figure, not without a grace peculiar to itself, is nevertheless as delicate as a gossamer, and as thin as its own gauzy French bonnet. Mother and daughter were but little alike, save in their sweet and rather languid tone of voice — no trifling charm in that sex which is somewhat prone, especiaUy under excitement, to pitch its organ in too high a key.

Mrs. Kettering was dark and brown of complexion, with sparkling black eyes, and a rich colour, much heightened by the heat. Not very tall in stature, but large and square of frame, well filled out besides by a good appetite, a good digestion, and, though nervous and excitable, a good temper. Blanche, on the contrary, with her long violet eyes, her curving dark eyelashes, and golden-brown hair, was so slight of frame and delicate of tint as to warrant her mother's constant alarm for her health ; not that there was any real cause for anxiety, but mamma loved to fidget, if not about ' dear Blanche,' about something belonging to her, and failing these, had a constant fund of worry in the exploits and es capades of graceless ' Cousin CharUe.' ' Noav, CharUe, my own dear boy ' (Mrs. K. was very fond of Charlie), ' I know you must be over heating yourself — nothing so bad for growing lads.

Mr. Hairblower, pray don't let him row so hard.' 'Gammon, aunt,' was CharUe's irreverent reply. 'Wait tdl we get her head round with the flood, we'U make her speak to it, wont Ave, Hairblower ? ' ' Wed, Master Charles,' said the joUy tar, ' I think as you and me could pud her head under, pretty nigh, — hoAvsoever we be fairish off for time, and the day's young yet.' ' Blanche, Blanche ! ' suddenly exclaimed Mrs. Kettering, ' look at the weed just beyond that buoy — the alga, what's its name, we were reading about yesterday. Charlie, of course you have forgotten. I shaU soon be obliged to get a finishing governess for you, Blanche.' ' Oh no, dearest mamma,' said the young girl, in her soft, sweet voice, which always drew Han-blower's eyes, in speechless admiration, to her gentle coun tenance. ' I could never learn with any one but you ; and then she might be cross, mamma, and I should hate her so after you!' And Blanche took her mother's plump, tightly-gloved hand between her own, and looked up in her face Avith such a fond, bewitching expression, that it was no Avonder mamma doated on her, and Hairblower and 'Cousin Charlie' too.

Mrs. Kettering was one of those people whose superabundant energy must have a certain number of objects whereon to expend itseU. Though a pleasant, cheerful woman, she was decidedly blue — that is to say, besides being a good musician, linguist, draughtswoman, and worsted Avorker, she bad a few ideas, not very correct, upon ancient history, a su perficial knowledge of modern literature, thought Shakspeare vulgar and Milton dry, with a smattering of the 'ologies, and certain theories concerning chemistry, which, if reduced to practice,vwould have made her a most unsafe occupant for a ground floor. With these advantages, and her sunny, pleasant temper, she taught Blanche everything herself; and if the young lady was not quite so learned as some of her associates, she had at least the advantage of a mother's companionship and tuition, and was as far removed as possible from that most amusing specimen of affectation, an English girl who has formed her manner on that of a French governess.

Mrs. Kettering had gone through her share of troubles in her youth, and being of a disposition by no means despondent, was rather happy under difficulties than other-wise. We do not suppose she married her first love ; we doubt if women often do, except in novels, and the late Mr. K. was a gentleman of an exterior certainly more respectable than romantic. His manners were abrupt and commercial, but his name at the back of a bdl Avas undeniable. The lady whom he wooed and won was old enough to know her own mind ; nor have we reason to sup pose but that in pleasing him she pleased herself. Many a long year they toiled and amassed, and old Kettering attended closely to business, though he never showed his books to his wife ; and Mrs. Ket tering exercised her diplomacy in migrating once every fiA-e years further and further towards 'the West End.' Their last house but one was in Ty burnia, and then old Kettering put a finishing stroke to his business, made a shot at indigo which landed him more thousands than our modest ideas can take in, and enabling him to occupy that mansion in Grosvenor-square, which looked so dud in the autumn, placed Mrs. Kettering at once on the pedestal she had all her Use been sighing to attain — perhaps she was disappointed when she got there.

However that may be, the enterprising merchant himself obtained little by his new residence, save a commodious vault belonging to it, in a neighbouring church, in Avhich his remains were soon after deposited, and a tablet, pure and unblemished as his own commercial fame, erected to his memory by his disconsolate widow. How disconsolate she was, poor woman ! for a time, with her affectionate nature : but then her greatest treasure, Blanche, was left ; and her late husband, as the most appropriate mark of his confidence and esteem, bequeathed the whole of his property, per sonal and otherwise, to his well-beloved Avife, so the blow was to a certain degree softened, and Mrs. Ket tering looked uncommonly radiant and prosperous even in her weeds. Now, it is very pleasant and convenient to have a large property left you at your own disposal, more es pecially when you are blessed with a child on whom you dote, to succeed you when you have no further occasion for earthly treasure ; and in the eyes of the world, this was Mrs. Kettering's agreeable lot.

The eyes of the world, as usual, could not look into the cupboard where the skeleton was ; but our poor widow, or rather our rich widow, was much hampered by the shape which no one else knew to exist. The fact is, old Mr. Kettering had a crotchet. Being a rich man, he had a right to a dozen ; but he was a sensible, quiet old fellow, and he contented himself with one. Now this crotchet was the in vincible belief that he, John Kettering, was the Uneal male representative of one of the oldest families iu England. How he came to have lost the old Norman features and appearance, or how it happened that such a lofty descent should haA'e merged in his own person as junior clerk to a large city counting-house, he never troubled himself to inquire — he was satisfied that the oldest blood in Europe coursed through his veins, and with the pedigree he supposed himself to possess (though its traces were unfortunately extinct), he might marry whom he pleased.

As we have seen, he did marry a very personable lady ; but, alas ! she gave him no male heir. Under a female succession, ad his toil, aU his astuteness, aU his money, would not raise the family name to the proud position he believed its due. He could not bear the idea of it; and he never ready loved poor Blanche half so much as that engaging child deserved. When ad chance of a son was hopeless, he resolved to bring up and educate his only brother's orphan child, a handsome Uttle boy, whose open brow and aristocratic lineaments won the old man's favour from the first. ' Cousin Charlie,' in consequence, became an in mate of the Kettering family, and was usualh' supposed by strangers to be the elder brother of pretty Uttle Blanche. These intentions, however, were kept a dead secret; and the children knew as Uttle as chddren generally do of their future prospects, or the path chalked out for them through life.

With all his fancied impor tance, old Kettering was a good, right-feedng man ; and although it is our belief that he revoked and destroyed several testamentary documents, he ended by leaA-ing everything to his wife, in her oavu power, as he worded it, ' in testimony of his esteem for her character, and confidence in her affection' — preA-iously exacting from her a solemn promise that she would eventually bequeath the bulk of her wealth to his nepheAV, should the lad continue to behave weU, and like a gentleman — making a prorision for Blanche, at her OAvn discretion, but not exceeding one-eighth of the whole available property. The testator did not long survive his final arrange ments. And though her promise cost his widow many a sleepless night, she never dreamed of breaking it, nor of enriching her darling child at the expense of her nephew.

Mrs. Kettering was a woman all over, and we AviU not say the idea of uniting the two cousins had not entered her mind ; on the contrary, brought up to gether as they were, she constantly anticipated this consummation as a dehghtful release from her con flicts between duty and inclination. She was, besides, very fond of 'Cousin Charlie,' and looked eagerly forward to the day when she might see this ' charming couple,' as she called them, fairly married and settled. With ad these distractions, it is no wonder that Mrs. Kettering, who though a bustling, was an undecided woman, could never quite make up her mind to complete her will. It was a matter of the greatest importance ; so first she made it, and then tore it up, and then constructed a fresh one, which she omitted to sign untd things were more certain, and eventually mislaid; Avhile, in the meantime, Blanche and ' Cousin Charlie ' were gro-wing up to that age at which young people, more especially in matters of love-making, are pretty resolutely deter mined to have a avUI of their own.

The bridegroom presumptive, however, was one of those young gentlemen, in whose heads or hearts the idea of marriage is only contemplated as a remote possibdity, and a dreaded termination to a life of enjoyment — in much the same light as that in which the pickpocket views transportation beyond the seas. He believes it to be the common lot of mankind, but that it may be indefinitely postponed with a little circumspection, and in some cases of rare good fortune even eluded altogether. It is curious to observe at what an early age the different instincts of the sexes develop themselves in chddren. Ljttle Miss can scarcely waddle before she shoulders a doll, which she caUs her baby, and on which she laA-ishes much maternal care, not with out certain wholesome correction. From her earliest youth, the abstract idea of wife and motherhood is famdiar to her mind; and to be married, though she knows not what it is, as natural and ineAdtable a destiny as to learn music and have a governess.

Young Master, on the contrary, has no idea of being a pater familias. His notion of being grown up is totaUv unconnected with housekeeping. When ' he is a man he means to be a soldier, or a sailor, or a pastry-cook — he will have a gun and hunters, and go ad day to the stable, and eat as much as he chooses and drink port Avine like papa;' but to bring up children of his o-vvn, and live in one place, is the very la;t thing he dreams of. ' Cousin CharUe ' entertained the usual notions of his kind. Although an orphan, he had never known the Avant of a parent — uncle and aunt Kettering supplying him with as kind and indulgent a father and mother as a spoilt little boy could desire. And although he had his chddish sorrows, such as parting from Blanche, going to school, being whipped according to his deserts when there, and thus smuggled through that amusing work, the Latin Grammar; yet, altogether, his life was as happy as any other chdd's of his own age, on whom health, and love, and plenty had shone from the day of its birth.

Of course old John Kettering sent him to Eton, that most aristocratic of schools, where Charhe learnt to sAvim — no mean accomplishment, — arrived at much perfection in his 'wicket-keeping,' and 'hitting to the leg,' as, indeed, he deserved, for the powers of application he evinced in the study of cricket; was taught to ' feather an oar ' in a method which the London watermen pronounced extremely inefficient ; and acquired a knack of construing Horace into moderately bad English, with a total disregard for the ideas, habits, prejudices, and intentions of that courtly bard. Of course, too, he was destined for the army. With his prospects, in what other pro fession could he get through his adowance, and ac quire gentlemanlike habits of extravagance in what vol. i. c 'mon beau cousin.' 18 is termed good society?

Old Kettering wanted to make his nephew a gentleman — that was it. When asked how CharUe was getting on at Eton, and what he learnt there, the uncle invariably replied, ' Learn, sir, why, he'U learn to be a gentleman/ It is a matter for conjecture whether the worthy merchant was capable of forming an opinion as to the boy's progress in this particular study, or whe ther he was himseU a very good judge of the variety he so much admired. Our own idea is, that neither birth, nor riches, nor education, nor manner suffice to constitute a gentleman, and that specimens are to be found at the plough, the loom, and the forge, in the ranks, and before the mast, as weU as in the officers' mess-room, the learned professions, and the upper house itself. To our fancy, a gentleman is courteous, kindly, brave, and high -principled — con siderate towards tbe weak, and seU-possessed amongst the strong.

High-minded and unselfish, 'he does to others as he would they should do unto him,' and shrinks from the meanness of takinsr advantasre of his neighbour, man or woman, friend or foe, as he would from the contamination of cowardice, duplicity, tyranny, or any other blackguardism. ' Sans peur et sans reproche,' — he has a ' lion's courage Avith a woman's heart ;' and such an one, be be in a peer's robes or a ploughman's smock — backing before his sovereign or delving for his bread, we deem a very Bayard for chivalry — a very Chesterfield for good- ' mon beau cousin.' 19 breeding and good sense. We are old-fashioned though in our ideas, and doubtless our sentiments may be dubbed slow by the young, and vulgar by the great. Stdl, even these dissentients would, we think, have been satisfied with 'Cousin Charlie's' claims to be considered ' a gentleman.' Nature had been beforehand with old Kettering, and had made him one of her own mould.

Not aU the schools in Europe could have spoiled or improved him in that particular. And his private tutor's lady discovered this quality, with aU a woman's intuitive tact, the very first evening ne spent at the vicarage of that reverend Crichton, who prepared young gentlemen of fifteen years and upwards for both the universities and all the professions. ' What do you think of the new pupil, my rear?' said Mr. Nobottle, to his wife — a dean's daujpBter, no less ! — as he drew up the connubial counterpane to meet the edge of his night-cap. ' He was a wild lad, I hear, at Eton. I am afraid we shall have some trouble with him.' ' Not a bit of it,' was the reply ; ' he is a gentle man every inch of him. I saw it at once, by the way he helped Tim in with his portmanteau. Binks, of course, was out of the way, — and that reminds me Mr. Nobottle, you never will speak to that man — what's the use of having a butler?