Bentley's Miscellany, Volume II

BY MRS. CORNWELL BARON WILSON

I

Though the dreams of ambition are faded and o'er,
And the world with its glitter can charm us no more;
Tho' the sunbeams of fancy less vividly play,
And in reason's calm twilight are melting away;
Still thought loves to wander, entranced in the maze
Of the joys and the hopes of those earlier days.
Fond mem'ry delights life's best moments to call
In the scene of my childhood, my Father's Old Hall!

II

Oh! light were the hearts which have met 'neath the dome
Of that once gaily throng'd, but now desolate home;
And light were the spirits that crowded the hearth
Of social enjoyment and innocent mirth;
When the laugh echo'd round at the wit-sparkling jest,
And the roses of innocence bloom'd in each breast;
Whose fragrance, once shed, Time can never recall,
Like the garlands we wreath'd round my Father's Old Hall!

III

Now scatter'd, dispers'd, 'mid the heartless and proud,
Where wander the steps of that once happy crowd?
Some have toil'd the steep rock towards the temple of Fame,
To snatch from her altars a wreath and a name;
Some have sought honour's death on the field or the wave;
Some have found in the land of the stranger a grave!
The chain is now broken, the links sever'd all,
That united the hearts in my Father's Old Hall!

PORTRAIT GALLERY. – No. IV

CANNON FAMILY. – JOURNEY TO BOULOGNE

When Alexander the Great was gazetted commander-in-chief of the Macedonian forces, and was concocting the eighteen manœuvres at the Horse-guards of that celebrated country; when he was about fighting Darius, Xerxes, and Porus; when Cæsar was invading Gaul and Britain; when the Benedictine monks were compiling "L'Art de verifier les dates;" when Sterne was writing Tristram Shandy; when Burton was anatomizing melancholy; when the companions of Columbus were puzzling their brains to find out how an egg could stand on end; when Mrs. Glass was concocting her cookery-book, and Bayle his dictionary; their minds were as smooth and as calm as a fish-pond, a milk-bowl, a butter-boat, an oil-cruet, compared with the speculative and prospective anxieties of all the Cannons as they were rattled on towards Dover, on their way to the land of promise, where milk and honey were to be found flowing, – longevity in apothecaries' shops, – modesty purchased at milliners' counters, – and decorum taught by opera-dancers. In these Utopian dreams, England was considered an uninhabitable region of fogs, mists, tyranny, corruption, consumption, and chilblains; the fate of Nineveh was denounced on London, – the modern Babylon; and, had it been burning from Chelsea bun-house to Aldgate pump, and from the Elephant and Castle to the Wheatsheaf at Paddington, the Cannons would not have dared to cast "a lingering look behind them" without dreading the lot of the Lots.

After their due share of impositions, thanks and curses, maledictions or valedictions, as they had been "genteel" or "shabby" with waiters, chambermaids, boots, porters, postilions, and hostlers on the road, the party arrived at Dover, and of course "put up," or rather, were "put down," at the Ship. But here fresh reasons for abhorring England were in store. When the waiters saw the arms of the Cannons on their panels, and the dragon, and the motto "Crepo," they all crowded round the travellers; but, like many apparently good things in this world, the inside of the fruit did not appear as attractive as its external bloom; and as the Cannons tumbled out, or jumped out, or rolled out, or staggered out of their vehicles, with all sorts of parcels and bundles, in brown and whity-brown paper, and pocket-handkerchiefs of silk and of cotton, without any of those neat and elegant cases containing all sorts of necessary articles for travellers in health or in sickness, and which form an invariable part of fashionable travellers' luggage, the waiters and the lookers-on seemed to consider the Cannons with looks that, without much knowledge of physiognomy, might have been interpreted "These people have no business here." They were reluctantly shown into a parlour, and to bed-rooms at the top of the house, with the usual formal apology, "Sorry, ma'am, we can't afford better accommodation; our house is quite full: the Duke of Scratchenburg and his suet is just come over from Germany, and the Prince of Hesse Humbuginstein is hourly looked for. Coming – going – coming – oh, Lord, what a life! going – going directly!"

The Cannons were hungry; dinner was ordered immediately. Now it was the height of presumption – nay, of impudence – on the part of a hungry citizen, without courier or valet de chambre, or supporters to his arms, to make use of such an aristocratic adverb. Immediately implies servitude, slavery, servility, at the nod of a master, – ay, and of an accidental master, an interloper in command. Is a free-born Englishman to run helter-skelter up and down stairs at the risk of breaking his neck, to hurry the cook, to expose himself to a forfeit of one shilling (not being a gentleman) by swearing and cursing in the teeth of the 19 Geo. 2. c. 21, when the cook tells the officious waiter not to bother him, or, if the weather is hot and the fire is fierce, bids him, by a natural association of ideas, to go to h – ; and all this because an ex-tallow-chandler is hungry, and wants an immediate dinner! Forbid it, glorious constitution! forbid it, bill of rights!

Old Commodus Cannon pulled the bell until the rope remained in his hand unconnected with its usual companion; for be it known for the information of impatient voyagers, that in modest apartments the said ropes are only attached by slender ties, which give way when vigorously jerked, that servants may not be disturbed. At last a waiter, bearing in his knitted brows the apprehension of a miserable shilling "tip" on departure, came in to inform the party that dinner would be served as soon as possible, but that the Duke of Scratchenburg and Prince Hesse Humbuginstein's dinners busied every hand in the house; but, if the gentlemen chose, there was a hot joint serving up in the coffee-room.

Cannon was outrageous, and swore that he would go to another hotel.

"You are perfectly welcome to do so, sir, if you like."

"I'll represent your behaviour to all our friends!" exclaimed Mrs. Cannon.

"None of our acquaintance shall ever put up in this house," added Miss Cannon.

"Then, ladies," replied the waiter, with a ludicrous heavy sigh, "we shall be obliged to shut up shop!"

At last an apology for a dinner was served; beefsteaks, potatoes, and a gooseberry tart. No oyster sauce! – the last oyster had been served to his Grace! No fish! – the last turbot had been served to his Serene Highness!

"Your port wine and your sherry are execrable!"

"His Grace thought them excellent."

Cannon was bubbling over, but he philosophized over a glass of punch; and his family comforted themselves, over a cup of tea, with the thoughts of their speedy departure from "horrible England."

Peter Cannon complained in the coffee-room of the treatment they had experienced, and he felt not a little annoyed when his interlocutor, a perfect stranger, observed that "they would have been much more comfortable had they put up at a second or third-rate hotel." They seemed created for wanton insult. Cornelius Cannon strolled out to inquire if there was anything to be seen in Dover; an insolent groom told him that, if he would go up to the Castle, he might see "a rum cannon" that carried a ball to Calais. Had he been a gentleman, Cornelius must have called him out, for he fancied that the term "rum cannon" had been a personality.

The next morning the packet was to sail. Here again fresh outrages were heaped upon them. They were asked for the keys of their trunks, to be examined at the custom-house!

"Why, what the deuce do they fancy I can have to export?" exclaimed Commodus Cannon.

"Why, sir, perhaps it might be some machinery."

There was something wantonly offensive in the insinuation that a man like Mr. Commodus Cannon should smuggle out a steam-engine, an improved loom, or a paper-mill, in his luggage! What could have been the cause of all these indignities? Simply this, as it was subsequently discovered: Sam Surly, being hungry, and not over nice, despite a brown and gold-laced red-collared livery, and military cockade, had gone to the tap to enjoy a pull of half-and-half; and, unaccustomed to travel, had gone into the kitchen for some "victuals," instead of joining the board of the other under-gentlemen in the house. On the other hand, Sukey Simper, both for the sake of comfort and economy, had brought with her a bottle of rum, and some loaf-sugar wrapped up in brown paper, and, having been shown to her attic quarters, forthwith prepared a potation to refresh herself after her journey: neither being aware that it is part and parcel of a servant's duty in a respectable family to run up a heavy score at their master's expense. Now, Sam Surly had also picked up an old Yorkshire acquaintance, with whom he repaired to another eating-house, where, over a bowl of generous humpty-dumpty, Sam was prevailed upon to take charge of a small parcel of little articles for a present at Boulogne, and, to avoid paying freight, he was recommended to conceal the said trifles in his capacious corduroy unmentionables.

As Messrs. Cannons were perambulating the streets of Dover, they observed sundry gentlemen, some of them lords, wearing sailors' jackets and hats, and they therefore determined to turn out in a marine costume; for which purpose they hied to a Jew slop-seller for their outfit. Mr. Cannon, senior, donned a pea-coatie, with a pair of ample blue trousers, and a glazed hat with a jaunty riband; while his sons soon strutted about the town in yacht-club uniforms, with their hands knowingly thrust in the pockets of their jackets, resplendent with anchored buttons. They felt satisfied that they had produced "the desired effect," for every one stared at them as they stalked along in "rank entire," Commodus Cannon leading the van, and the ladies – enraptured at the appearance of the male part of the family – bringing up the rear. They were certainly annoyed by the impertinent observations of the vulgar people, boys and girls, who, with the usual English bad taste, did not know better, – who would titter, and exclaim, "I say, there goes the horse-marines!"

"No, no," cried another; "it's the famous Sea Cook and his sons wot uncovered the Sandwich Islands!"

"I say, commodore, how are they all in the Fleet?" roared out a costermonger.

"Poor old gentleman! his eyebrows are worn out, looking out for squalls through a grating?" said a fourth.

While a boatswain sang out, and whistled in Cannon's ear,

"Yer, yer! man the sides! there's the flying Dutchman coming on board!"

"Sing out for Captain Yokell, cockswain!" bellowed an impertinent sailor.

Now, strange to say, these observations, which might have offended some sensitive persons, highly gratified our travellers. They had already obtained what they so ardently desired —notoriety, and had a chance of seeing their names in print; for, even when a man is abused and ridiculed, if it is in print, the sting carries with it its own antidote. He becomes public property; he is something; "There goes that confounded ass, Mr. Such-a-one! there goes that rum cove, Mr. What's-his-name!" Then, if he can but get himself caricatured, he is a made man. Were it not for the gratification derived from such publicity, would so many people walk, and talk, and dress, or undress, in the absurd manner we daily witness in our lounges? A certain lord was honoured with an hebdomadary flare-up by a certain weekly paper as regularly as church-bells are rung on the sabbath. It was expected that his lordship would have purchased the editor's silence, – absurd expectation! One might as well expect that a jolly prebend would decline sitting in half-a-dozen stalls at the same time. No, no; the editor abused on until he was tired of abusing gratis; when his lordship was so much annoyed that he paid to have scurrilous articles inserted, forwarded by himself.

Two packets were about starting, a French one and an English one. The Cannons were resolved to punish their ungrateful countrymen, and embarked under the colours of France. A numerous French family were repairing on board; and, as the gentlemen wore a red riband in their button-holes, our party concluded they were noblemen. The two families were grouped near each other; and the French, with their usual condescension, honoured the Cannons with their countenance, conversing as well as persons scarcely acquainted with each other's language can conveniently converse.

The morning was fine; but lowering clouds and a white sun would have induced experienced mariners to expect a fresh breeze. With great volubility of execrations the Gaul got under weigh, and paddled on slowly, while the English packet shot by like a dart. The French captain smiled at this swiftness, and, shrugging up his shoulders, exclaimed,

"Ces Anglais! ça n'a pas d'expérience! – nous verrons tout à l'heure!" he added, rubbing his hands with delight.

The influence of dress is wonderful. A certain costume seems to impart to the wearer, ideas pertaining to the class of society which he then personates. A lawyer's wig and gown make a man fancy that he could plead, and he regrets that he was not brought up to the bar. A civilian, who attends a fancy ball in a splendid uniform, is inspired with courageous ideas, which a free potation of refreshment fans into a martial ardour. Now the Cannons did truly consider themselves sailors. The young men walked up and down the deck boldly, endeavouring to show how they could tread a plank or a seam on "sea legs" without staggering, although there was no more motion than under Kew-bridge; and then they would cast a knowing eye at the compass as they passed the binnacle, to ascertain if the helmsman steered judiciously, although the compass was as little known to them as the Koran. Then they would suddenly stop, and look at the sky; then suck their fingers, and hold them up, to see which way the wind blew; and, when their cigars were out they would whistle or hum "Rule Britannia!" or, "You gentlemen of England, who live at home at ease," while they were lighting other havannahs.