A Mixed World. A novel

Front matter

A MIXED WORLD. H IKovel. BY ADOLPHUS POHL, AUTHOR OF 'THOMAS BROWN'S WILL.' LONDON : ELLIOT STOCK, 62, PATERNOSTER ROW, E.C. 1896. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. WILLIAM STANTON, AGRICULTURAL LABOURER - I II. AN INVITATION TO BIXTON - - - 6 III. RUMBLES, VEGETABLE MERCHANT - IO IV. THE TRADESMEN'S BANNER HOTEL - 1 9 V. IN MOTHER CAREY'S COTTAGE - - 25 VI. IN AND OUT OF PRISON - - "39 VII. CAPTAIN BELGRADE, CAVALRY OFFICER - 43 VIII. 'SHALLOW WATERS RUN NOISILY' - 5 1 IX. THE POACHER'S REPENTANCE - - - 60 X. A PLAUSIBLE DEMAGOGUE - - 70 XI. BALKED IN LOVE-MAKING - - "73 XII. COUNTRY-SIDE GOSSIP - - 77 XIII. LOVE TRIUMPHING OVER GRIEF - S5 XIV. THE COSMOPOLITAN WORKING MEN'S ASSOCIA- TION - - - - 88 XV. THE CONFIDENCES OF FRIENDS - 95 XVI. AN

Introduction

TO LONDON LIFE - - IOI XVII. DIFFICULTIES IN FOUNDING A FAMILY - 106 XVIII. PERPLEXING RENCONTRES - - 117 XIX. AN ANXIOUS INTERVIEW - - 1 CONTENTS V CHAPTER PAGE XX. OFF TO FRANCE - - " x35 xxi. phelps made gamekeeper - - *42 xxii. captain belgrade tries again - 1 45 xxiii. the wish father to the thought - 1 49 xxiv. scares - - - - - 162 xxv. rays of light - - - - 174 xxvi. confidential - - - 1 78 xxvii. captain Belgrade's suit - - 186 xxviii. politics - - - - - 194 xxix. conscience money - - - - 204 xxx. the 'amende honorable' - - - 220 xxxi. 'all's well that ends well' - I

Chapter I. William Stanton, Agricultural Labourer

WILLIAM STANTON was an agricultural labourer and a tenant on Lord Avondale's estate, which was situated in one of the Western Counties, where, in due season, primroses and bluebells, cuckoo flowers and ferns, woodbine and dog-roses, adorned the hedges. Stanton's cottage was a lovely object as seen from the road. Those who have travelled far are often struck with the spirit of adornment, and with the beneficence of Nature, when they see in that favoured county even a peasant's habitation surrounded with shrubs and plants which in less genial climates are only nursed on a small scale in conservatories. One part of Stanton's cottage was covered with a splendid myrtle ; and up the wall in front of the house two large geraniums — one on each side of the door — displayed their scarlet blossoms, for it was the summer-time.

These geraniums were from eight to ten feet high. A fuchsia which grew in the little garden had reached nearly six feet, its graceful, drooping, bell-like flowers hanging from it in rich profusion. Stately white and orange lilies, vigorously healthy standard roses in full blossom, were also conspicuous in that charming cottage garden. "I say, Stanton," said a voice, which was evidently that of a gentleman, " those geraniums of yours are very beautiful ! I don't think I ever before saw any reach such a height. And the blossoms are very fine. How abundant they are !" Stanton, rather more civil than he was inclined to be, answered frankly, " Very, sir." Did Stanton's state of mind correspond with the natural adornments of his cottage ? Did his eyes rest with personal gratification upon his lilies, his geraniums, his roses, and his myrtle-tree ?

Did he thank God that his ' lines had fallen unto him in pleasant places,' where Nature supplied him freely with beautiful things on a scale which, in other civilized parts of the world, no amount of money, care, or labour can procure ? If the truth must be told, neither was his eye satisfied nor his spirit thankful. The love of the beautiful which had led to the decoration of Stanton's cottage was no part of his nature. It belonged to a past time, some two generations back. If Stanton had arranged the cottage and its garden, or even if he had been free to manage it now, instead of the myrtle and the roses, there would have been fruit-trees growing on the walls ; and instead of flowers, he would have planted cabbages and onions and ' taters ' and ' turmots '—useful things that one can eat, and that find a ready sale in the market.

If the land on which his cottage stood had been Stanton's own, he would have made short work of the graceful shrubs and flowers that beautified his dwelling, and bidden the robins go and nestle and sing their love-songs elsewhere. ' The brute !' some may incline to say. Yes ; certainly. But in the case of poor Stanton there were some extenuating circumstances. It is true that Stanton did not care a fig for his ornamental trees, shrubs, and flowers ; indeed, he wished them else where — anywhere but in his ground. It is true that he longed to see plums or pears where the myrtle spread its sweet and evergreen leaves, and cabbages where the lilies flourished. It is also true that he hated the birds, both small and large, because of their propensity to pilfer. Many men, although they take more than their own from their fellow-creatures, are looked up to, respected, revered ; but the poor feathered bipeds, which never take more than what should be considered their just wages for the part which they perform in the economy of Nature, are stigmatized as thieves, and persecuted with a rigour and pertinacity which WILLIAM STANTON, AGRICULTURAL LABOURER 3 is tending to effect their extermination.

But other things concerning Stanton require to be told. He had a large family, and when he had work he only brought home twelve shillings and sixpence a week as his wages. There were many weeks in the year when he could find no employment, and these idle weeks reduced his income to an average of even less than twelve and sixpence per week. Although born on the estate of a great lord and reared under the eye of the clergy, William Stanton could only make his mark instead of putting his signature, and he had not the slightest conception of the true meaning of religion. The gentleman who spoke to Stanton was the Rector of the parish. The Rev. Mr. Percy was an aristocrat to the backbone, and, being a clergyman, he stuck to his Church as a politician does to his party. Mr. Percy would have stuck to the Church whatever ritualistic or doctrinal changes it might have passed through.

He was a younger son of a noble house, and had been rather wild in his youth-time. He had been addicted to what are strangely called ' Noble Passions.' Many of the higher classes indulge in these from the lack of legitimate occupations and interests. In consequence, Mr. Percy now suffered from a want of cash, his noble eldest brother finding enough to do to pay his own debts and live according to his rank. Mr. Percy was between forty and fifty years of age, he was a fine-looking man, healthy and robust, and he had rather the appearance of a dashing colonel of hussars than that of a quiet minister of the Gospel. After Stanton's reply to the parson's remark about the beauty of his geraniums, Mr. Percy said, rather abruptly : " Stanton, what is this that I hear about your working in your field early on Sunday mornings, when you think nobody sees you ?"

Stanton's face became pale and his features grew sullen. " I am obliged to," he said. " I can't make both ends meet for myself and family." The parson was on the point of saying, " And yet you can find both time and money to spend on the Sabbath in the Avondale Arms behind closed doors," but he remembered that Stanton was known to be a teetotaller. So he merely said : " Don't break the Sabbath again— mind, I caution you. If you do, you will not remain long a tenant in this place." Then he whistled to his dog, and went on his way. Mr. Percy was not a bad man — he meant well according to his lights ; but he lacked originality. In his realm of thought he possessed nothing that was not borrowed, except his sermons, which were bought. In a clergyman, not to be original is a grave fault ; it caused Mr. Percy to accept as Gospel the habits, the customs, the prejudices, the vanities, the frivolities and the vulgarities of his class and calling, and to treat the Gospel itself as a dead letter.

True, he had his blanket and coal funds, but there was nothing particularly original in them. In olden times heathens submitted to be baptized thirty-six times, because every one was presented by the church on his baptism with a blanket ; and so men managed to obtain, by a little schem ing, thirty-six blankets each. Mr. Percy gave blankets and coals to those poor parishioners only who listened most frequently to his hackneyed sermons, and were most regular in taking the Sacrament with their hands and lips. True, he was a strict Sabbatarian ; but there was nothing original in that, either. If he had asked himself, 'What can be the reason for Stanton's Sabbath-breaking by working in his garden or field on the Sunday mornings, seeing that he is not a wanton or drunken man? He does not frequent public-houses, his wife keeps his children clean and tidy, he is straightforward in his dealings, he works steadily and hard when he can get work ; but at the best his wages must be starvation wages ' — then the Reverend Mr. Percy's thoughts might have bordered on originality.

And if he had acted on such thoughts, his actions might have been really original. Stanton was not a wanton man ; he was not the kind of man who would break the Sabbath, in the way he did, for his own mere pleasure. When one's bones ache on a Saturday night, after a week of hard manual labour, and one cannot recruit one's strength by even a regular weekly meal of meat, a man is not very likely to get up on a Sunday morning early, in order to work in the field for WILLIAM STANTON, AGRICULTURAL LABOURER 5 pleasure. Stanton would have enjoyed a little extra resting on the seventh day as much as any man. But how can any one rest who finds it impossible to make both ends meet ? No doubt there was a flush of anger on Stanton's face when the parson threatened his ejectment from his home. There were many things which the parson might have said and done, short of himself raising Stanton's wages from starvation-point — many things which would have sent a gleam of light and a ray of comfort into that poor toiler's heart ; but Mr. Percy followed the multitude.

This minister of the Gospel neither enlightened his poor parishioner's mind, nor stood up on his behalf against those in whose power it lay to bring about reforms. What wonder, then, that this poor labourer, who could only make his mark, should confound the Christian religion with the parson who was supposed to teach it, and wish to have nothing to do with either the one or the other? When men of science do not understand the essence of religion, and press upon our acceptance, not science, but their science, as a substitute for religion ; when a brilliant writer of pantheistic notoriety regrets the age of the heathen, when gods mingled with men ; when, moreover, a poet like Schiller can place before the world ' Die Gotter Griechen lands,' and even regret the past ages of heathenism : ' Schbne Welt wo bist du ?

Kehre wieder, Holdes Bliithenalter der Natur !' when such eminent personages send off these ephemeral rockets, that do but end in dead sticks, which are rather dangerous to an admiring crowd, is it any wonder that Stanton, when the parson failed him, had not only confused, but even antagonistic ideas concerning religion ? ' When gods mingled with men !' Why, the very gods of the Ancients mingle with men now unrestrained, and to men's detriment ! What brilliant things can be written and spoken ! Like the student in ' Faust,' do we desire to get a clear idea from the words of Mephistopheles ? Well, don't be too anxious to get clear ideas, for just where ideas are wanting a word steps in in proper time. With words one can pointedly argue ; with words one can prepare a system ; in words one can steadfastly believe ; from words not an iota can be robbed. 'When gods mingled with men !' Why, the fact that gods still mingle with men to this day is the very reason why Stanton's mind was so dark : — ' Beautiful world, where art thou ?

Return ! Lovely blossom-age of Nature !' as Schiller says in his poem, called 'The Gods of Greece.' Return indeed ! It has never left us. We presume that ' Nature blossoms ' as from time immemorial ; and as to Venus, and that mischievous young imp Cupid, they mingle with us still, and Bacchus presides still over orgies and debaucheries, and Mercury is still with merchants and thieves, and Diana of Ephesus is still great. W'hy, if it were not for these gods, and many more, Stanton, and those of whom he is a type, would not have to toil in all weathers, from early morn to the going down of the sun, to produce the staff of life for others, while they, the labourers them selves and their families, have as a remuneration scarcely sufficient to sustain life upon. As the parson did not ex plain things to Stanton, he worshipped a Diana of Ephesus of his own, on a small scale, in the shape of his own labour.

He had a small potato field, which he rented and cultivated on his own account and at his own risk, in order to employ his time when he could not find other work ; but unlike Demetrius and his cunning craftsmen, Stanton's goddess brought him no wealth, but left him still poor and in debt. to. 7

Chapter II. An Invitation To Bixton

DEAR Mr. Percy," said Lady Avondale, " why don't you bring us your pupil, Mr. ?" "Mr. Elton," interposed the parson. " Elton ! Elton !" echoed Lady Avondale. " Is he con nected with the Elton family we know?" "I think not. His father is Colonel Elton, who is at present in India." AN INVITATION TO BIXTON 7 " Ah ! then you do not know his father nor his father's family. I wonder whether he is at all connected with the Eltons whom we know." " I do not know his father personally ; young Elton came to me through our Bishop, who is a particular friend of his father's." Lady Avondale's curiosity concerning the family of the young gentleman was quite natural. When you are about to admit a person into your family circle, you like to know who he is and where he comes from. Lady Avondale's principal guide to the fitness of a man for her social circle was his 'race,' or 'blood,' or 'family.' As Lady Avon dale could not ascertain the relationship of young Elton, she had to be satisfied with the fact of his introduction through the Bishop, which was to her a sufficient guarantee against her admitting common red blood.

"The young man seems to be lonely," she said. "He wanders about the fields without any society, and it would be a kindness to him to bring him to see us." She had not herself either noticed his state of solitude or pitied him in consequence. It was her daughter who had noticed the young man. The Rev. Mr. Percy was a great favourite at Bixton, which was the residence of the Avondale family in that part of the country. In the first place, he was, as regards his birth, of their own class ; in the second, he had the good taste never to talk about religion in his social intercourse. Religious conversation is such a bore, especially when we consider that religion has the power of changing morals and habits and character. " Nothing will give me greater pleasure, my dear lady, than to introduce Mr. Elton to you.

I am sure he will be delighted with the opportunity of joining your social circle. His acquaintances must be very limited down here, for who is there to visit ? The only one of my very near neighbours whom I take to be a gentleman is a foreigner ; the rest are retired tradespeople, and the doctor cannot be considered a gentleman, for he is only a miller's son. True, there is Mr. Taylor, the solicitor, who is gentlemanly enough, but he is in his dotage." " We can visit nobody down here," Lady Avondale replied. " If it were not for you and Mrs. Percy and our friends from other parts, whom we invite to visit us, our stay in the country would be as dull as the life of the monks at the Grande Chartreuse." Lady Avondale had three children — two sons and one daughter. The elder son was at this time travelling on the Continent, and Lady Avondale had taken upon herself the management of the estates until he settled down as a married man.

Her younger son was on a visit to Bixton, but his education was incomplete, and he was expected almost immediately to return to Oxford to finish his terms. The Avondale family had only just returned from a long residence in Italy, and as their expected visitors had not yet arrived, the small circle felt comparatively dull. Their temporary social isolation was, perhaps, the reason why young Elton's solitude was noticed by them. If their house had been full of visitors, Miss Avondale might not have observed the lonely wanderer, or Lady Avondale might not have cared to act upon her daughter's suggestion and invite him to Bixton. "Elton," said Mr. Percy, "Lady Avondale asked me to bring you with me to Bixton next time I call. It will make things more pleasant, socially, for you if you get to be acquainted with them."

" I am much obliged," replied Elton. " It will certainly be very pleasant to know the Avondales and to have access to Bixton. I have often longed to go over the estate, and the conservatories, they say, are magnificent." "So they are — so they are. By the bye, I meant several times to tell you not to talk to that man Stanton and his set ; they are a bad lot. Besides, it does not do for a gentleman to appear in any way familiar with the common people. I don't mean that ' Familiarity breeds contempt ' — that may not apply in this case — but these people are likely to mistake your affable manners, and to take advantage of your kindness." "They have never encroached on me in any way, sir. But who told you that I am familiar with them ?" " Never mind who told me ; I tell you, Charles, it does AN INVITATION TO BIXTON 9 not do to be familiar with this kind of people.

A gentle man must keep himself to his equals. I know I am in fault myself in some measure ; I am not stand-off enough with that class." The admonition which Mr. Percy gave his pupil sounded very well — so well, indeed, that if Colonel Elton had been present when it was given he would have approved of it. It missed its effect, however, in the case of young Elton. As to Mr. Percy's being in fault himself on the score of familiarity with common people, it may not be uninteresting to know that he thought himself to be uncommonly urbane in his behaviour towards the lower classes. But his con descension amounted to no more than saying : ' Good day, Stanton — good day,' or ' Good morning, Gush ; fine day.' He always took care to leave out the ' Mister ' before the name of the persons whom he thus addressed.

It would have been thought rudeness, or undue familiarity, if those persons had answered the Rev. Mr. Percy : ' Good day, Percy — good day,' and left out the ' Mister ' in their turn. Mr. Percy regarded this suavity on his part as amiable and thorough condescension, even as he took a good many other things for thorough that were nothing of the kind. " Nil dictu fcedum visuque hæc limina tangat, intra quæ puer est," said Mr. Percy, finishing his admonition to Elton with a Latin sentence. "Not that I think you much of a boy, my young friend, but under my roof nothing shall be seen or taught that can be injurious to a youthful mind. But there goes the dinner bell." Sometimes Mr. Percy quoted Greek to his pupil, but not so often as Latin, in which tongue he knew a convenient number of sentences by heart.

He looked upon his Greek and Latin sentences not only as spice in his educational system, or as an ornament (like brass buttons upon a cloth jacket), but also as part of the very essence of that learning and wisdom which constituted him a fit and desirable tutor for a young gentleman.

Chapter III. Rumbles, Vegetable Merchant

AT this time Charles Elton was twenty-two years of age. He had been born while his parents were in India, his mother being an English lady of good family. He had that fair complexion which is thought remarkable in children who are born of English parents in India, probably because so many of the Englishmen, who stay for a con siderable time in that part of the world, are brown or sallow looking. He had light-brown hair, and brown eyes, which were clear and large, and he looked straight at you when he addressed you. His mouth was small, but expressive of firmness ; his teeth were faultless, and his nose was slightly aquiline, but well in proportion with the rest of his features. He was not a tall man, only a trifle above the middle height, but as his chest and shoulders were not narrow, and he carried himself well, he generally conveyed the idea of being taller than he really was.

The fact of his not being tall added grace to his figure on horseback, and rendered him a desirable weight. When Elton was told by his tutor not to be affable with common people, he did not take much notice of the advice, but he did resent the espionage of his doings which he inferred from his tutor's remarks was going on. He did not understand that, in country places, where everybody knows everybody, each person is very ready to constitute himself a reporter of his neighbour's doings. Suckerton, the small town near the Bixton estates, was in that respect no honour able exception to the small towns throughout the land. The interest which human beings take in the private affairs of their fellow-creatures is not always genuine. ' Love thy neighbour as thyself is by no means always the inspiiation of it.

In Elton's code of honour it was regarded as a cowardly thing to speak against a man behind his back. " Upon my honour," said Charles to himself, " if I knew who it is that has spoken to Mr. Percy about me, I would give the fellow a thrashing." If it was in Charles's code of honour not to speak against his neighbour, it was also in that code not to offer the other cheek when the one had been smitten. From this we may infer that his code of honour was made up from various sources — a little from this source, and a little from that, in the Latitudinarian sense. When Mr. Percy gave his pupil the admonition touching his affability, Charles had just returned from a ride to Scent ford, a rather larger town than Suckerton, and from six to seven miles distant from it. " Now," said Charles to himself, " if it has been reported that I stopped a minute and spoke to the Stantons, Mr. Percy will know that I have ridden over to Scentford."

And, strange to say, Mr. Percy did know, and if he had not spoken of it yet to Charles, there was probably no time lost. Mr. Percy knew that Charles had gone to Scentford before Charles came back from that place. How did he know it ? By telegraph ? In the country, gossip travels quicker than telegrams. In order to send a telegram from Scentford to Suckerton, to apprise the Rev. Mr. Percy of Charles's arrival at the Scentford Tradesmen's Banner Hotel, there must have been, first, someone to write out a telegram ; then some time would elapse before it could be taken to the Telegraph Office; then further time would pass before the turn for this particular telegram would come ; then still more time would slip away before the Suckerton mes senger-boy could return from his errands for a fresh lot of tele grams ; the said messenger-boy might find it necessary to stop on his way for a game of marbles with a chum ; and last, but not least, or, rather, first of all, sixpence would have to be found before the telegram could be sent off at all.

As it was, the news passed gratis and speedily on the ordinary high-road. After Charles had left Stanton's cottage behind some two or three miles, he passed Rumbles, the vegetable merchant. We suppose we must call him a ' Merchant ' in these days of genteel aspirations, although it is not in the least degree probable that he had a sumptuous mansion, or that he dealt largely in accommodation-bills. The old rogue knew ' a trick worth two of that' He had a business circuit of nearly twenty miles, within which he supplied his customers with vegetables of all sorts, as well as with ducks and geese and poached game. Old Rumbles was a capital salesman, although he was not a man of 'Prepossessing Appearance,' nor had he that 'Good Address ' upon which young gentlemen, or young firms, who advertise in relation to vacant travellers' positions, lay so much stress.

Rumbles was both ungainly and ugly. His legs and feet were unshapely and clumsy. Whether he squinted by nature was uncertain, but it is certainly the fact that he could and did squint. But his manners made up, with many persons, for what he lacked in good looks. He possessed the art of passing himself off as half-witted. Not exactly like the ancient sceptics, not in the sense in which old Grandmother Stanton used the expression, and not in the spirit of modern sceptics, Rumbles had come to the con clusion that ' I knows nothing ' helped him wonderfully along in business affairs. It is not to be supposed that all his customers were gentry, or even people that read the Times three days after date, and therefore required no general in formation from him. Such exceptional folks as did take in a newspaper daily, generally left it to inferior beings to make their bargains with him.

Now and then some of the very economical ' managing missuses,' in whose homes the daily paper was read, would deal with him themselves, a proceeding which he judged highly unbecoming in a lady ; but this, happily, was not the rule among his customers. Most of those with whom he came directly in contact did not care to read, even if they could read, and a considerable number could not read. These persons, consequently, treated old Rumbles as a newspaper, and at times, in their eagerness to gather useful information, they would have torn him to tatters, if he had been made of that brittle and bad paper which the newspaper ' Of the largest circulation in the world ' thinks good enough for its tens of thousands of readers in all parts of the world. Fortunately for old Rumbles, he was made of tougher materials, and if he was placed in any difficulty, he had recourse to his useful sentence, ' I knows nothing ' ; and this he said with a silly smile of such masterly imitation that the cooks and housemaids, grooms and indoor men-servants, put him down as ' half-baked.' In this way he cleverly avoided giving unsafe answers to indiscreet questions.

Perhaps the reader is preparing for a career in the com mercial travelling line. Make no mistake. Do not appear too knowing, too clever, too anything that suggests a keen mental eyesight. Take, rather, a leaf out of old Rumbles' book. Old Rumbles was a thorough business man. Gifted people like to deal with their apparent inferiors, not with persons who parade their superiority. There are many business fallacies current, and for commercial pur poses ' A good address and a prepossessing appearance,' in the sense in which these terms are generally used, is one of them. Many persons would be quite ready to argue that old Rumbles, because of his appearance and manners, would prove a very unsuccessful salesman. If only he had been a good-looking fellow, with well-shaped legs and feet and an other sort of head, one with eyes that could look unutterable things at the tender sex, he would do a big business.

But old Rumbles knew better than that. He calculated that if he had been prepossessing in appearance, there would be two, perhaps three, say even four young women falling in love with him, and dealing with him accordingly. That would be a very embarrassing and burthensome way of making customers, as sweethearting with three or four at once would involve a terrible waste of time. And what could be the result as compared with the number of custo mers he made through his ungainly legs and feet and half stupid eyes ? There were many cooks and housemaids who looked upon his feet and then upon their own, and felt satisfaction — nay, actual pleasure — at the manifest difference in their favour. Many a footman glanced superciliously at the wretchedness of his calves, and, looking at his own, indulged in thoughts of his immeasurable superiority, which were highly gratifying to himself.