Susan Turnbull, or, The power of woman : a novel

Front matter

V:

Fourteenth]

Routledge's Railway Library Advertiser.

Book I.— Look Before You Leap

ter I. — The Misses Prindle's Young

Ladies, - - - - 5

II. — Two Arrant Adventurers, - 14

III. — Two Young Minxes, - - 31

IV. — The Dancing Lesson, - - 40

V. — The Elopement of Three, - 50 VI.— "Caitiff, Draw and Defend

Yourself," - - 64

' VII. — The Extraordinary Threat, - 73

K II.— SEVERAL WOLVES AND LOTS OF LAMBS.

ter VIII.— The Turkish Wolf, - - 82

' IX. — The Greek Lamb, - - - 92

' X.— The British Bull-pup, - - 105

■ XL — Beauty in Distress, .- - - 122 ' XII. — The Destruction of the Sacred

Kiss, .... 141 XIII.— "Holy Allah, Must I Bust Me

Father-in-law?" - - 153 c XIV. — From Turkish Frying-pan Into

British Fire, - ■■ - 161

4 CONTENTS

Book Iii.— A Dash At The Quality

Chapter XV. — La Belle Turnbull, - - - 177 " XVI.— A Sprightly Evening at Rane-

" XVII.— " Make Me a Present of Her! " 203

Book Iv.— Princess Susan

Chapter XVIII. — The Promised Land, - - 218 XIX.— Indigo Vat No. 22, - - 229

" XX. — The Spanish Schooner, - - 246

" XXL— Justice Cutter's Ear Makes a

Sensation, - - - 264

" XXII.— Miss Susan Declares She Is

Being Robbed, - - 279

" XXIIL— The Pirate's Kiss, - - - 292

THE POWER OF WOMAN.

Chapter I. The Misses Prindle's Young Ladies

It is the year of our Lord 1767. The world — for the world of that day meant Europe — is at peace. George the Second, after a prosperous reign, has passed away, leaving England triumphant over her old enemies, France and Spain, both on land and sea, and victorious, without allies. In her grasp is all of North America except Florida. Besides this she has the Island of Cuba, and practically all the West Indies, and in the East, India wrested from French dominion by Clive.

Some of these conquests she has traded away at the Peace of Paris: notably Cuba, which she has given up to Spain, receiving in exchange Florida, which she thinks will make her North American possessions complete; one of the worst bargains probably ever made in the history of nations — relinquishing the richest island of the Antilles, the domination of all the trade from South America, Mexico, and Peru, that must come, borne by the Gulf Stream, past the fortresses of the Havannah — for a land uninhabited, unsettled, and unknown.

So at present the world is at peace. Frederick the Great, with the moneyed assistance of England, has completed successfully the Seven Years' War, confronting and defying Austria, Russia, France, and Saxony combined.

But even now, with the ink of their articles of armistice scarcely dry, the powers are commencing to scheme for war again. Frederick is negotiating with the Semiramis of the North and Maria Theresa, his old enemies, with whom he has just shaken hands, for the partition of Poland. Russia is getting ready to again despoil the Turk, and England, despite the advice of Monsieur de Choiseul, the French Minister, is going to help her.

The reason of this is chiefly because the elder Pitt, who has dominated the councils of England and made her by his statesmanship the leading power of the world, has gcjne out of office. When he proposed to King George III. to attack Spain before she was ready to defy England, that monarch, who disliked his statesman for his support of popular rights, hesitated; the Pitt ministry resigned, and the Marquis of Rockingham came into power. As his aide was Lord Frederick North who did more to ruin England in ten years than any man who has ever lived.

Monsieur de Choiseul had said: "In assisting Russia to despoil Turkey you are building up a power that some day will not only be your rival, but perchance your dictator. With Russia it is not a question of the present, but of the future. Coming generations of Anglo-Saxons will suffer for the policy of England."

To this the English Government had replied: "We take care of the present ; future generations take care of themselves." An idea that, ingrafted into the policy of the various administrations of England for the next ten years, produced a course of procedure in the government which alienated forever from the British crown the United States of America — a policy that for a hundred thousand pounds yearly revenue prevented the Atlantic Ocean from becoming an English sea, with fourfifths of its coast covered by the cross of St. George and St. Andrew.

It is the calm before the storm; the storm that is going to end in the French revolution — in the first tremendous protest, crazy as it was, fanatic as it was, rabid as it was — for the personal liberty of man. The old world, with its ancient ideas of the divinity of the monarch, the supremacy of sang pur and the suppression of all other kinds of blood whatsoever, has sat down calmly, to be awakened by the Marseillaise. It is the passing of the literary age of Addison and Steele, of Fielding and Smollett. David Garrick is still playing. Sarah Siddons has just come on the boards. The English Gentleman: 's Magazine is recording the last burning at the stake of a woman in England.* Husbands of the lower classes still sell their wives. The glorious doctrine of the common law of England, as expounded by Blackstone, of the husband's right to chastise his better half, is still in vogue, though commonplace. The rack and thumbscrew are yet in plenteous use in many portions of the world, though in England they have grown a little rusty.

* Burning of women for poisoning their husbands changed to banging Act. 30.— Geo. Ill,,, 1790.

Withal though it is the close of a great era in British history, it is the commencement of a greater; greater because it is the beginning of the dawn of personal liberty — the destruction of tremendous class distinctions. Catholics, Quakers, and Dissenters are soon to be deemed worthy of holding office in this world, though they may fry in the next. Society has begun to drift to "servant-gals cheeking their missuses," the walking delegate, socialism, anarchy, dynamite bombs, and other luxuries of modern freedom. But in 1767 the old ideas still prevail. The American and French Revolutions, though nearly due, have not yet arrived. Servitude is still regarded as the normal state of the unfortunate. The African slave trade is yet legitimate commerce. Barbary pirates still capture Christians, selling their captives under the very eyes of the ambassadors of Europe to the Sublime Porte.

Under this great, perhaps somber, background is a pretty little foreground in the sea-coast town of Brighthelmstone, in the fair county of Sussex, England. This charming little seaside town has just grown out of a fishing village and is now becoming quite a resort of the gentry and quality, coming down in post-chaises with relays of horses from London. Some ten years from now it is to be made very fashionable by the visit of the Prince of Wales, and shortly after to be called Brighton and known as the great modern watering-place that in our day boasts of its wondrous aquarium, great Marine Parade, and its two big piers, for exercise, promenade, and flirtation.

The soft Sussex breezes were bracing then as they are now. The green sheep downs were as verdant then as they are now. There was no Grand Parade nor big piers, but Brighthelmstone was a very pleasant place and of good repute as regards the health of its

THE TOWER OF WOMAN 9

inhabitants, and as such, the favored location of young ladies' academies, as it is to-day.

One of these, at seven o'clock this fine spring morning, is taking its daily constitutional. It is a select establishment for young ladies of the upper middle classes, and conducted by the Misses Prindle under the precepts of Dr. Samuel Johnson, whose belief in and eulogy of the rod have been so ably commented upon by his biographer, Mr. Bos well.*

Altogether, as it marches along the Steine, the beautiful lawn on which the quality are wont to take their promenade in the afternoon, Miss Prindle's establishment presents an appearance of decorous modesty and academic deportment that is beautiful to behold. Its forty odd scholars march two by two very demurely, a dragon of a mathematics-teacher of certain age in front, glaring to right and left, two pupil teachers imme. diately behind her, then two by two the Misses Prindle's pupils, the oldest of eighteen or nineteen at the front, the little ones of eight or ten years of age in the rear, which is brought up by the younger Miss Prindle, Penelope by name, spinsterhood showing in every line of her prim, severe, fifty-year-old face and the stern schoolmistress in every movement of her precise body.

Altogether, the young ladies of Arcadia Lodge present a very charming though demure appearance ; not perhaps of the first fashion, but approaching to it, for the school is waning from its highest glory, which was

* In ladies' boarding-schools a century ago, the rod was unsparingly used, and even up to about the year 1830 young ladies were whipped at school. History of the Rod, by Rev. William M. Cooper, B.A.

Likewise letter from lady of quality, of about the year 1790, descriptive of discipline at Regent's House. Bath, a fashionable young ladies' school at that time. The writer says : " No matter whether a girl was rich or poor, old or young, even if of the highest quality, the daughter of a Lord, she was whipt when the Misses Pomeroy so decreed."

Vide also Boswell s Lift 0/ Johnson, with his various remarks.— Ed.

IO THE POWER OF WOMAN

three years before, when the daughter of the Marquis of St. Catherines was one of its pupils — a time spoken of with the greatest respect by the elder Miss Prindle, and spoken of very often. Nearly every other sentence which this lady, Miss Eudosia, addresses to inquirers about her seminary begins or ends with: "When I had the honor of superintending the education of Lady Blanche St. Omer, the daughter of Lord St. Catherines, who is now such a leader of ton in London."

She does not, however, state that Felix Vavasseur Beauchamp St. Omer, the Marquis of St. Catherines, is as bankrupt a nobleman as any in the English peerage, and that Lady Blanche's bills have not been liquidated — and that she was taken under the implied condition that they never would be.

The young ladies are all dressed very nicely for their morning walk, the elder ones sporting fashionable hoops, beneath which can be seen high-heeled, buckle shoes and silk-clocked stockings, in proportions diminishing as their ages increase.

Their locks are nearly all arranged with single ribbon and French curls — though some of the older wear their hair tite de Motiton, a style lately imported from across the channel.

Almost among the leading files of this institution march two young ladies: one a little over eighteen, the other a few months younger. The elder, Miss Irene Vannos, the daughter of a Greek merchant having his branch office at Modon, in the Morea; the younger, Miss Susan Turnbull, a niece of Andrew Turnbull, engaged in the Smyrna trade, and a young lady of considerable property, a good deal of it being invested in her uncle's business.

As the school on its return to Arcadia Lodge turns

THE POWER OF WOMAN II

into the High street, these two are talking and laughing together as much as they dare under the eye of the Gorgon who marches behind, and altogether they appear to be very well pleased with each other, with themselves, and the world in general. For though the discipline of a middle-class boarding-school for girls in England in those days was extremely severe, and the comforts of school life as naught compared with the sybaritic establishments of modern education, still these young ladies knew nothing of- the coming world and were very -well contented with the one in which they dwelt. Their hoops were as large as were permitted in the school, their shoes were as pretty and their feet as small, and, curiously enough for an establishment of that kind, each had her eye open for a dashing gallant as wide as she dared open it under the strict regimen in which they were kept.

This High street is a place much disliked and hurried through by Miss Prindle on account of the remarks of lounging hostlers, horse-boys, and sauntering yokels in the early morning, and sometimes the attentions of early-rising beaux and macaronies come down from the capital to recuperate from London dissipation by sea-bathing at the neighboring beach.

" Did you see him ? He was looking out of the second window of the Man at Arms," whispers Miss Susan.

" No. Did you see him ? " answers the other sotto voce. " He was glancing at me from the first floor window of the Royal George."

" Who were you talking about ? "

" Who were you looking at ? "

"Why, don't you know?" This is said by both girls together.

"He — he — he ! " in chorus.

" Youtig ladies, attention ! — and keep your eyes in front ! " comes in the stern voice of the Gorgon schoolmistress.

" I was looking at the celebrated officer from the Mediterranean, Ballyho Bey," remarks Miss Irene Vannos.

"And I — I was exchanging glances with the notorious sea-rover, Dick Bocock, the captain of a privateer and — they say — worse!" whispers Miss Susan Turnbull, proudly.

"Silence, young ladies ! " comes from the Gorgon at the rear. "Were you talking, Miss Vannos ? "

" No, ma'am," very nervously.

" Were you talking, Miss Susan Turnbull ? "

" No, ma am ! " very promptly.

" Oh, Gadzooks ! what a lie ! " This sotto voce from an eleven-year-old marching near the rear.

" What did you say, Sophia?" remarks Miss Prindle, who is within reach of the child.

" Please — please, ma'am, I said nothing."

" How dare you tell me such a fib ! Come and walk by me. WThat did you say ? "

" I — I don't want to tell! "

"Sophia, shall I take you to my room after cur walk ?"

"Oh, please, ma'am — don't — don't !"

"Then what did you say ?"

"I— I said, 'What a fib !' "

" What was the fib you meant ?"

" What Irene Vannos and Susan Turnbull told you when they said they weren't gabbing."

"What were they talking about ?"

"Two dandiprats; one named the Macaroni Boy and the other called the Peacock, I think. I couldn't just make out."

Gossiping about gentlemen ! How do they know there are any gentlemen in town ?" mutters Miss Penelope in astounded horror.

But upon arrival at Arcadia Lodge this produces a lecture from the teacher in charge. She says: "Young ladies, I have been informed that you talk about the gallants who are in town. Now, understand me, that I consider it not only unladylike, but exceedingly immodest and bold to be aware that there is a single man of any kind, class, or rank, in the place. Miss Vannos, write out fifty lines from the ^neid and bring it to me this afternoon. Miss Turnbull, I shall expect from you at the same time two hundred lines. ' My eyes must be always in front of me as I walk !' "

This sentence is not received without discussion, almost rebellion. The two girls walk straight at her and say : " For what ? "

"For talking in the High Street, where silence is enjoined; and one of you for casting eyes at the Man at Arms, and the other for looking at the Royal George. Please do not think that / have not my eyes about me when you are walking."

And Miss Penelope passing on to her school duties, the two stare astonished ; but suddenly Miss Turnbull cries : "I know! It was that low-born butcher's brat, Sophia Matthews — she told her. I'll make her sorry for it! "

So, having a disposition that remembers, this very forenoon Miss Susan Turnbull, catching the "brat" Sophia Matthews all by herself in the garden, proceeds to give the little girl such a pinching that the child thoroughly regrets her enforced confidences to the awful Miss Penelope.

But she keeps silence about her wrongs. In the first place Miss Turnbull informs her if she tells she will put her to death by slow torture ; in the next place, every other girl's hand, under scholastic morals, would be against her. The only thing for little Sophia to do is to grin and bear it. She bears it, but she doesn't grin — and keeping her big eyes open for a terrible revenge, very shortly gets it.

Chapter II. Two Arrant Adventurers

The gentlemen who have brought discomfiture on Miss Irene Vannos and Miss Susan Turnbull are of course totally oblivious to this. Captain Dick Bocock, after seeing the school pass on its way toward the classic precincts of Arcadia Lodge, finishes his breakfast nonchalantly and indulges in a pipe of Virginia tobacco in the coffee-room of the Man at Arms.

Terence O'Grady O'Donohue Fitz-Ballyho, commonly known as Ballyho Bey, a dashing Irish soldier of fortune and at present a renegado connected with the Turkish marine service, but now in England on a special mission from the Porte in regard to the rumored Russian alliance, in his more aristocratic private apartments at the Royal George, discusses a delicate repast, not forgetting the wine forbidden by the Koran.

Then, under the attendance of a black slave boy habited in white turban and Turkish costume, he enjoys his nargileh pipe, murmuring plaintively: "By Allah and Saint Patrick both, this Brighthelmstone is a divilish quiet hole! At times I wish I'd brought me harem with me ; but that wouldn't have been discrate, me boy. Bedad, the jades of my seraglio might have been a-running away from me. Howiver, if I can pursuade the little darlint I came after, it will be a foine stroke of financial luck. Though me salary is a very fair one from the Sublime Porte, still the dates of payment of the Lord of Lords and Master of the World are sometimes very far betwixt and betwane, and even now if I didn't bullyrag his Excellency Samas Pasha, our plenipotentiary to the Court of St. James, be me sowl I'd be starving in this foreign land.

" And it does seem to me a foreign land; though if I would walk over to Ballyho Castle on the banks of the Shannon, begorra, I expect a good many of me relatives would remember me, but they wouldn't like to see me, noting I am the heir to the Barony of Ballyho, though kept out of it by thaving attorneys."

For this gentleman has a way of claiming everything that under any circumstances or by any chance could come to him ; the Barony of Ballyho, to which he has only the claim of an illegitimate scion, being one of his assumptions.

"Ah, by the powers, I think I'll call Antonelli and have him deck me in me finery and display meself in the Gun-garden this fine morning. Mayhap some pretty demoiselles of the place who show their unveiled faces — God bless 'em — despite the Koran, will look with kindness and complacency on the long mustachios of Ballyho Bey, whose nobility and fine airs are ginerally catching to the famale race, by the grace of the prophet and the blessing of Allah. "

Whereupon he claps his hands, and summoning Mustapha, bids the blackamoor boy go and find Ludovico Antonelli, remarking: "The baste is always downstairs, ogling some of the pantry maids. Bring him up here, or be the piper that played before Moses, I'll mincemeat you ! "

Mustapha going on his errand, Ballyho Bey, a wildlooking Irishman whose red hair is concealed by his enormous turban and whose red mustachios have been made black by the arts of his valet, is very shortly attended by that functionary, who proceeds to his Excellency's toilet, during which the following conversation, which would make the Misses Prindle faint with horror, takes place between them, for the Italian is as great a scoundrel as his master, which is saying as much as can be said for any man.

"Antonelli," remarks Terence, "have ye seen that half-English dancing master, who has been inoculated with Frinch airs — of the Arcadia Lodge this morning ? " " Not yet, your Highness."

"Be me sword! if Monsieur Lavender Tompkins doesn't work for the five golden ducats that I gave him — did ye tell him I'd murther him ? " " Yes, your Highness."

"He had no objiction to carrying the letter to that pretty little Irene Vannos whom I saw pass beside me window a few minutes ago, under the eye of her strict schoolmistress, from whose tyranny I propose to relase me darlint? The poor girl only got a wink from me, but bedad! it made her blush to her eyebrows." " He did not, your Highness."

" Divil doubt it, after ye'd explained to him as I instructed ye, that I would put public affront on Monsieur Lavender and horsewhip him for his insult in the Gun-garden the next time I laid eyes on him when the ladies were promenading! By Allah! I'd run him out of town!"

"When I explained the horsewhipping to him, your Highness, and gave him your five golden ducats, Monsieur Tompkins promised to do your bidding."

"Very well. As soon as Monsieur Lavender makes his appearance, have him shown up; I'd speak to him in person. You're sure, Ludbvico, that the black you've just put on me mustachios will not come off if I should happen to kiss a pretty girl ? "

" It will last your Excellency at least twenty-four hours, no matter how much you salute the ladies," remarks the valet with a deprecating bow as he departs.

Very shortly after he ushers in Monsieur Lavender Tompkins, a gentleman who gives instruction in the art of Terpsichore ; among his patrons being the Misses Prindle, who engage him for several hours a day in the instruction of their young ladies in the minuet, saraband, deportment, positions, the art of entering a carriage, the art of stepping into a chair, the proper method of courtesying to and greeting those of higher degree, those of equal rank, and those of lesser degree, which, in conjunction with tight-laced stays, the backboard and the stocks, produce very elegant carriage, demeanor and bearing in the young ladies of that institution.

Monsieur Tompkins is a gentleman, as he describes himself, of exquisite demeanor. He is likewise of conservative disposition and perennial smile. A grin is the foundation of his expression. He smiles deprecatingly, he smiles triumphantly, he smiles approvingly, he smiles disconcertedly ; sometimes on rare occasions he has been known to smile in anger, at Some unpardonable gaucherie or mistake in steps of his pupils at Arcadia Lodge. Under these conditions his expression is not imposing.

His eyes are blue — a heavenly blue. His mouth is weak, but softly beautiful ; all the more so because he is clean shaven. His curls, golden and luxuriant, are very highly barbered and finished with bear's grease, perfumed with the odor of his name. For Mr. Lavender Tompkins, with all his little brains, is conscious of his one strong point — his appearance. Therefore he is dressed so dapperly; dancing pumps, lacquered and varnished, always adorning his agile feet. His lithe and well-developed legs are shown from ankles to hips by the tightest-fitting blue inexpressibles, into which apparently they have been melted and run each day. A nankeen vest with brazen buttons of highest polish, and ruffled shirt just from the bleaching field and laundry, high stock, lace cravat, and claw-hammer coat of blue cloth, likewise with brass buttons, also tightly belted in to his frame, display his form, which, though not of commanding height, is capable of graceful pose and sudden little artifices of movement that have given to him the sobriquet among the young ladies under his tutelage of " Jumping Jack " Tompkins. His age is probably not over twenty-five.

The door being opened for him, this creature of airs and graces comes in with sliding step and deprecating smile, and arriving in six glides before the awful Eastern potentate, who sits squat-legged indulging in his nargileh, bows before him with elaborate reverence, takes posture and murmurs: "I hope — I hope I don't intrude."

"Divil a bit ! " says the great Ballyho Bey, with an affable wave of his sublime hand. Then he cries: " Mustapha, close the door quick and stand in the hallway to see no listening maids are about, or, Bismillah, I pity thy black bones ! "

The blackamoor boy making e:?-it with many and elaborate salaams, Terence, Ballyho Bey, remarks pleasantly: "Nov/ we'll get to business, Monsieur Jumper."

"Your — Your Highness speaks English?" murmurs the dancing teacher, astonished.

" Divil a bit ! I spake Irish---and also Frinch, Spanish, German, Turkish, and the patois of Tunis and Algiers, besides a smattering of modern Grake, having forgat me ancient Grake that was whacked into me by Father O'Toole, bad cess to him! But as to acknowledging I spake the language of the tyrants of me country — nivcr! But now to business. Did ye deliver that note I gave ye to the pretty crature called Irene Vannos ?"

"Yes, your Highness; when I had the honor of instructing her in the minuet yesterday." " Did she give you answer to it ?"

" Yes, a — a note — your — your Worship." "Ah! Trust the darling girl to throw dust in the eyes of her schoolmarm. Why don't you hand it over r" " I have not as yet received my ducat, your Highness."

"Ah, ye avaricious spalpeen! Yer looking for the shekels as well as the rest of us," returns his employer, complaisantly, and producing a gold coin from his sash, tosses it to the agile dancing master, who, making pirouette, catches it in mid-air like a flash and immediately brings himself to courtly bow, presenting a little billet-doux which, under the ardent eyes of Ballyho Bey, reads as follows:

My Darling Alcidor :

Cupid, Venus and the Muses bless you for giving me the permission to call you darling. You did that in your last sweet letter, fiery Alcidor, in which your description of the dazzling circle to which you will raise your entranced Arethusa has taken me into a heaven of delight more charmingly romantic, more passionately vivid than any of the rapturous scenes that surround the heroines of dear Mrs. Aphra Behn, whose works I have perused, they being brought to me surreptitiously from Miss Mund's circulating library.

You write you must meet me face to face. I respond, not face to face, but heart to heart, like Oroonoko and his beloved mistress. I will bear the risks of detection by my jailers (the hated Misses Prindle), who are holding me from thy arms.

The wall of my school is very high, otherwist: I would fly over it on wings of love to my Alcidor. Therefore, thy Arethusa would suggest to her adorer that he meet her at the dancing lesson given by thy myrmidon, Jumping-Jack Tompkins, at Arcadia Lodge, by some ingenious stratagem such as is in use in those diverting comedies of Messieurs Congreve and Wycherley that I have read surreptitiously, also from the circulating library, but by a stern fate have not yet been permitted to see upon the boards. I know my own Alcidor will have the courage to dare, and that his love will find a way to his ecstasied Arethusa.

P. S. I think these lovely names I have used will tend to prevent suspicion coming upon me, in case by ill adventure any of my dignified yet romantic epistles should fall under the eyes of the Medusa and her sister Gorgon that watch over your unhappy A.

The perusal of this florid epistle seems to amuse Ballyho Bey mightily Two or three times he chuckles grimly over it, though it is in quite the proper style between the lovers of the day, then suddenly asks the dancing master: " Did me darlint appear unhappy ? "

"You mean Miss Vannos ?" replies Lavender, with a frank smile. "Demme! not the slightest in the world. She seemed in the sweetest of spirits as she danced her minuet, though her hand trembled a little as she passed me her note under the handkerchief, and her dark eyes were somewhat affrighted; but perchance that was because she thought the eyes of Miss Penelope Prindle were upon her as she made her courtesy and palmed the billet doux."

" If you can find me access," says Ballyho Bey, " to Arcadia Lodge, there'll be tin guineas for you, Mr. Jumping Jack! "

" My mind docs not grasp such a proposition."

"You mean the ten guineas or the entree ? "

"Both — your liberal Highness."

' ' Bedad ; if yer puny brain can't grasp it, perhaps me giant intelligence can. Tell me all about this academy and the Gorgon Misses Prindle, bad cess to 'em! "

The information being given him that the schoolmistresses are, like most of their class, worshipers at the shrine of the aristocracy, Ballyho Bey suddenly asks: "Who is the most honored visitor to Arcadia Lodge ? Whose word would have the most weight from the world of fashion with those she-devils that are kaping me from me darlint ? "