Piccadilly A Fragment of Contemporary Biography — 06 - Part IVa: The World

PICCADILLY, _May_.

The great difficulty which I find in this record of my eventful existence is, that I have too much to say.

The sensations of my life will not distribute themselves properly.

It is quite impossible for me to cram all that I think, say, and do every month into the limited space at my disposal.

Thus I am positively overwhelmed with the brilliant dialogues, the elevating reflections, and the thrilling incidents, all of which I desire to relate.

No one who has not tried this sort of thing can imagine the chronological, to say nothing of the crinological, difficulties in which I find myself.

For instance, the incidents which occupied the whole of my last chapter took place in twenty-four hours, and yet how could I have left out either the poison-scene, or my interview with Grandon, or Spiffy's interesting social projects?

Much better have left out the poison-scene, say some of my critical friends.

It was not natural--too grotesque; but is that my fault?

If nature has jammed me into a most unnatural and uncomfortable niche in that single step which is said to lead from the sublime to the ridiculous, am I responsible for it?

If, instead of taking merely a serio-comic view of life, like some of my acquaintances, I regard it from a tragic-burlesque aspect, how can I help it?

I did not put my ideas into my own head, nor invent the extraordinary things that happen to me,--and this is the reflection which renders me so profoundly indifferent to criticism.

I

shall have reviewers finding out that I am inconsistent with myself, and not true to nature here--as, for instance, when I fell violently in love with Ursula in one evening; or to the first principles of art there--as when I wrote to propose to her next morning: as if both art and nature could not take care of themselves without my bothering my head about them.

Once for all, then, my difficulties do not arise from this source at all; they are, as I have said before, of the most simple character.

In fact, they resolve themselves into Kant's two great _a priori_ ideas, time and space.

Now I could quite easily run on in the moral reflective vein to the end of the chapter, but then what should I do with the conversations which I ought to record, but to which I shall not be able to do justice, because I am so bound and fettered by the chain of my narrative?

What an idea of weakness it conveys of an author who talks of "the thread of his narrative!"

I even used to feel it when I was in the diplomatic service, and received a severe "wigging" once for writing in one of my despatches, "My lord, I have the honour to resume the 'tape' of my narrative"--so wedded is the Foreign Office to the traditions of its own peculiar style.

I was glad afterwards they kept me to "the thread," as when I wanted finally to break it I found no difficulty.

By the way, after I have done with society, I am going to take up the departments of the public service.

If I let them alone just now, it is only because I am so desperately in love, and my love is so desperately hopeless; and the whole thing is in such a mess, that one mess is enough.

At present I am setting my dwelling-house in order.

When that is done I will go to work to clean out the "offices."

[Illustration] I may also allude here to another somewhat embarrassing circumstance which, had I not the good of my fellow-creatures at heart, might interfere with the progress of my narrative; and this is the morbid satisfaction which it seems to afford some people to claim for themselves the credit of being the most disagreeable or unworthy of those individuals with whom I am at present in contact.

They would pretend, for instance, that there is no such person in society as Spiffington Goldtip, but that I mean him to represent some one else; and they take the 'Court Guide,' and find that no Lady Broadhem lives in Grosvenor Square, so they suppose that she too stands for some one else who does.

Now, if I hear much of this sort of thing I shall stop altogether.

In the first place, neither Spiffy nor Lady Broadhem will like it; and in the second, it is very disagreeable to me to be supposed to caricature my acquaintances under false names.

The cap is made a great deal too large to fit any particular individual, so there is no use in trying it on; but when, perchance, I find groups of people acting unworthily, I should be falling into the same error for which I blame the parsonic body of the present day, if I shrank from exposing and cutting straight into the sores that they are fain to plaster and conceal.

In these days of amateur preaching in theatres and other unconsecrated buildings, I feel I owe no apology to my clerical brethren for taking their congregations in hand after they have quite done with them.

People may call me a "physician" or any other name they like, and tell me to heal myself; but it is quite clear that a sick physician who needs rest, and yet devotes all his time and energies to the curing of his neighbours, is a far more unselfish individual than one who waits to do it till he is robust.

Therefore, if I am caught doing myself the very things I find fault with in others, "that has nothing at all to do with it," as Lady Broadhem always says when all her arguments are exhausted.

Those of my readers who have taken an interest in her ladyship's speculations and in my endeavours to extricate her from her pecuniary embarrassments, may conceive our feelings upon hearing of the surrender of General Lee.

I regret to say that, in spite of every device which the experience of Spiffy, of Lady Broadhem's lawyer, and of Lady B. herself could suggest, her liabilities have increased to such an extent in consequence of the rapid fall of Confederate stock, that I was obliged to take advantage of the Easter recess to run over to Ireland to make arrangements for selling an extremely encumbered estate which I purchased as a speculation some years ago, but have never before visited.

This trip has given me an opportunity of enabling me thoroughly to master the Irish question.

I need scarcely say how much I was surprised at the prosperous condition of the peasants of Connemara after the accounts I had received of them.

When I "surveyed" my own estate, which consists of seven miles of uninterrupted rock, I regarded with admiration the population who could find the means of subsistence upon it, and whose rags were frequently of a very superior quality.

I also felt how creditable it was to the British Government, that by a judicious system of legislation it should succeed in keeping people comparatively happy and contented, whose principal occupation seemed to me to consist in wading about the sea-beach looking for sea-weed, and whose diet was composed of what they found there.

That every Irishman I met should expect me to lament with him the decrease by emigration in the population of a nation which subsists chiefly on peat and periwinkles, illustrated in a striking manner the indifference which the individuals of this singular race have for each other's sufferings; and it is quite a mistake, therefore, to suppose that absentee landlords, who are for the most part Irish, live away from their properties because they are so susceptible to the sight of distress that they cannot bear to look upon their own tenantry.

To an Englishman nothing is more consoling than to feel that the Irish question is essentially an Irish question, and that Englishmen have nothing at all to do with it--that the tenant-right question is one between Irish landlords and Irish tenants--that the religious question is one between Irish Catholics and Irish Protestants--and that the reason that no Englishman can understand them is, because they are Irish, and inverted brains would be necessary to their comprehension.

These considerations impressed themselves forcibly upon my notice at a meeting of the National League, which I attended in Dublin, the object of which was to secure the national independence of Ireland, and to free it from the tyranny of British rule.

One of the speakers made out so strong a case for England, that I could only account for it by the fact that he was an Irishman arguing the case of his own country.

"How," he asked, "is the English Parliament to know our grievances, when out of 105 members that we send up to it, there are not two who are honest?

Why is not the O'Donoghue in the chair to-day?

he is the only real patriot, and we can't trust him.

Why are the Irish Protestants not true to themselves and the cause?

Why, in fact, is there not a single man of the smallest position and influence either on the platform or in the body of the house, except myself, who am a magistrate of the county of Cork, and therefore unable to advocate those violent measures by which alone our liberties are to be gained?

Is it because we have got them already?

No; but because Irishmen do not care a farthing about them.

Shame on them for their apathy," &c. It was pleasant to listen to this Irish patriot inveighing against his countrymen, and finally making England responsible for Irishmen being what they are.

Bless them!

my heart warmed towards them as I saw them at Queenstown trooping on board an emigrant-ship, looking ruddy and prosperous, bound on the useful errand of propagating Fenianism, of exhibiting themselves as choice specimens of an oppressed nationality, and of devoting their brilliant political instincts, their indefatigable industry, and their judicial calmness, to the service of that country which is at present in danger of suffering from a determination of blood to the head in the person of Andy Johnson.

If anything can trim that somewhat crank craft "United States," let us hope that it will be by taking in Irishmen at the rate of one thousand per week to serve as ballast; for most certainly the best means of increasing the sailing qualities of the leaky old tub, "British Constitution," will be by inducing the ballast aforesaid to throw itself overboard.

I was pitching and rolling abominably between Kingston and Holyhead as I drew this appropriate nautical parallel, and was not in a mood to relish the following announcement, which appeared in the pages of a fashionable organ, that happened to be the first journal I bought in England:-- "We are in a position to state that a marriage is arranged between Lord Frank Vanecourt, M. P.

, second son of the late Duke of Dunderhead, and Lady Ursula Newlyte, eldest daughter of the late Earl of Broadhem."

How I envied "our position," and what a very different one mine was!

However, the notice served its purpose, for it prepared me for what I should have to encounter in London--the sort of running fire of congratulation I must expect to undergo all along Piccadilly, down St James's Street, and along Pall Mall.

Should I simper a coy admission, or storm out an indignant denial?

On the whole, the most judicious line seemed to be to do each alternately.

The prospect of puzzling the gossip-mongers generally almost consoled me for the feeling of extreme annoyance which I had experienced.

"The imbroglio must clear itself at last," thought I, "but it will be a curious amusement to see how long I can keep it from doing so;" and I bought an evening paper as I approached London, by way of distracting my mind.

The first news which thrilled me as I opened it was the announcement of the assassination of President Lincoln.

I am not going to moralise on this event now, and only allude to it as it affects the story of my own life.

It saved me that evening from the embarrassment I had anticipated; for even when I went to the Cosmopolitan, I found everybody listening to Mr Wog, so that nobody cared about my private affairs, and it induced Lady Broadhem to make a secret expedition into the City of a speculative nature next morning, as I accidentally discovered from Spiffy.

It is not impossible that the knowledge of this breach of faith on her part may prove a valuable piece of information to me.

I sauntered into "the Piccadilly" on the following afternoon, armed at all points, and approached the bay-window, in which I observed Broadhem and several others seated round the table, with the utmost _insouciance_.

They had evidently just talked my matter over, for my appearance caused a momentary pause, and then a general chorus of greeting.

Broadhem, with an air of charming _naivete_ and brotherly regard, almost rushed into my arms; but his presence restrained that general expression of frank opinion on the part of the rest of the company, with reference to my luck, with which the fortunate _fiance_ is generally greeted.

Still, the characters of my different so-called "friends," and their forms of congratulation, were amusing to watch.

There was the patronising, rather elderly style--"My dear Vanecourt, I can't tell you how happy the news has made me.

I was just saying to Broadhem,"--and so on; then the free and easy "Frank, old fellow" and "slap on the back" style; then the "knowing shot" and "poke in the ribs" style; then the "feelings too much for me" style--severe pressure of the hands, and silence, accompanied by upturned eyes; then the "serious change of state and heavy responsibilities" style.

Oh, I know them all, and am thankful to say the peculiar versatility of my talents enabled me to give as many different answers as there are styles.

I am not such a fool as not to know exactly what all my friends said of the match behind my back: "Sharp old woman, Lady Broadhem; she'll make that flat, Frank Vanecourt, pay all the Broadhem debts;" or, "Odd thing it is that such a nice girl as Ursula Newlyte should throw herself away on such a maniac as Frank Vanecourt;" then, "Oh, she'd marry anybody to get away from such a mother;" again, "I always thought Vanecourt a fool, but I never supposed he would have deliberately submitted to be bled by the Broadhems."

That is the sort of thing that will go on with variations in every drawing-room in London for the next few evenings.

Now I am striking out quite a new line to meet the humbug, the hypocrisy, the scandal, and the ill-nature of which both Ursula and myself are the subjects.

Thus, when Broadhem greeted me in the presence of the company, after I had received their congratulations with a good deal of ambiguous embarrassment, I appeared to be a little overcome, and, linking my arm in that of my future brother-in-law, walked him out of the room.

"My dear Broadhem," said I, "for reasons which it is not necessary for me now to enter into, but which are connected with the pecuniary arrangements I am making to put your family matters straight, this announcement is a most unfortunate occurrence--we must take measures to contradict it immediately."

"Why," said Broadhem, "if it is the case, as you know it is, I don't see the harm of announcing it.

To tell you the truth, I think it ought to have been announced sooner, and that you have been putting Ursula lately in rather a false position, by seeming to avoid her so much in society, because, you know, it has been talked of for some time past."

"Ah, then, I fancy the announcement was made on your authority," I said.

"It is a pity, as I had made up my mind to postpone the ceremony until I had not only completed all my arrangements for putting your family matters square, but could actually see my way towards gradually clearing off the more pressing liabilities with which the estate is encumbered.

You know what a crotchety fellow I am.

Now, my plan is, clear everything off first, and marry afterwards; and unless you positively contradict the report of my marriage with your sister, I shall immediately countermand the instructions under which my lawyers are acting, and take no further steps whatever in the matter."

I felt a malicious pleasure in watching Broadhem's face during this speech, as I was sure that he had done his best to spread the report of my marriage with his sister for fear of my backing out, and escaping from my obligations in respect to his financial embarrassments.

It is only fair to him to state, that these were none of his own creating--he had been a perfect model of steadiness all his life.

"It will be pleasanter for us both," I went on, "that the world should never be able to say, after my marriage with your sister, that you and your mother continue to live upon us.

Now, I tell you fairly, that, for family reasons, this premature announcement renders it impossible for me to proceed with those arrangements which must precede my connection with your family."

Broadhem's face grew very long while he listened to this speech.

"But," he said, "it is not fair to Ursula that everybody should suppose that you are engaged to her, and refuse to acknowledge it."

"Pray, whose fault is it," said I, "that anybody supposes anything about it?

I have never told a soul that I was engaged to be married, and if you and your mother choose to go spreading unauthorised reports, you must take the consequences; but"--and a sudden inspiration flashed upon me--"I will tell you what I will do, I will be guided entirely by Lady Ursula's wishes in the matter.

If she wishes the report contradicted, I must insist most peremptorily on both Lady Broadhem and yourself taking the necessary steps to stop the public gossip; but if she is willing that the marriage should be announced, I pledge you my word that I will allow no preconceived plans to influence me, or pecuniary difficulties to stand in the way, but will do whatever she, your mother, and yourself wish."

"Very well," said Broadhem, "that sounds fair enough.

I'll go and see Ursula at once."

"Not quite so fast; please take me with you," I said.

"As it is a matter most closely affecting my future happiness, I must be present at the interview, and so must Lady Broadhem."

"I don't think that is an arrangement which will suit Ursula at all.

In fact, both she and my mother are so incomprehensible and mysterious, that I am sure they will object to any such meeting.

Whenever I have spoken to my mother about it, she always meets me with, 'For goodness' sake, don't breathe a word to Ursula, or you will spoil all;' and when, in defiance of this injunction, I did speak to Ursula, she said, in a lackadaisical way, that she had no intention of marrying any one at present; and when I went on to say that in that case she had no business to accept you, she asked me what reason I had for supposing that she ever had done so; and when I said, 'the assurance of my mother's ears in the drawing-room at Dickiefield,' she stared at me with amazement, and burst into a flood of tears."

"Under these circumstances, don't you think you would have done better not to meddle in the matter at all?"

I remarked.

"However, the mischief is done now, and perhaps the best plan will be for you to bring about a meeting between your sister and myself.

I suppose whatever we arrange will satisfy you and Lady Broadhem?"

"Well, I don't know," said Broadhem, doubtfully; "she does not seem to know her own mind, and I don't feel very sure of you.

However, you are master of the situation, and can arrange what you like.

My mother is going to a May meeting at Exeter Hall to-morrow to hear Caribbee Islands and Chundango hold forth.

I know the latter is to call for her at eleven, so if you will come at half-past, I will take care that you have an opportunity of seeing Ursula alone."

This conversation took place as we were strolling arm-in-arm down St James's Street on our way to the House, thereby enabling the groups of our friends who inspected us from divers club-windows to assert confidently the truth of the report.

Just as I was parting from Broadhem at the door of the lobby we were accosted suddenly by Grandon.

He looked very pale as he grasped my hand and nodded to my companion, who walked off towards "another place" without waiting for a further greeting.

"I suppose, now that your marriage is publicly announced, Frank, it need no longer be a tabooed subject between us, and that you will receive my congratulations."

My first impulse was to assure him that the announcement was unauthorised so far as I was concerned, but the prospect of the impending interview with Ursula restrained me, and I felt completely at a loss.

"Don't you think, Grandon," I said, "that I should have told you as much as gossip tells the public, had I felt myself entitled to do so?

I only ask you to trust me for another twenty-four hours, and I will tell you everything."

Grandon looked stern.

"You are bound not to allow the report to go one moment uncontradicted if there is nothing in it; and if there is, you are now equally bound to acknowledge it."

"Surely," I said, in rather a piqued tone, "Broadhem is as much interested in the matter as you are, and he is satisfied with my conduct."

"I tell you fairly I am not," said Grandon.

"You will do Lady Ursula a great injustice, and yourself a great injury, if you persist in a course which is distinctly dishonourable."

At that moment who should come swaggering across the lobby where we happened to be standing but Larkington and Dick Helter!

"Well, Frank, when is it to be?"

said the latter.

"You were determined to take the world by surprise, and I must congratulate you on your success."

"Thanks," said I, calmly, for I was smarting under Grandon's last words: "the day is not yet fixed.

What between Lady Broadhem's scruples about Lent and some arrangements I had to make in Ireland, there has been a good deal of delay, but I think," I went on, with a slight simper, "that it has nearly come to an end."

"There," said I to Grandon, when they had favoured me with a few _banalites_, and passed on, "that is explicit enough, surely; will that satisfy you, or do you like this style better?"

and I turned to receive Bower and Scraper, who generally hunt tufts and scandal in couples, and were advancing towards us with much _empressement_.

"My dear Lord Frank, charmed to see you; no wonder you are looking beaming, for you are the luckiest man in London," said Bower.

"How so?"

said I, looking unconscious.

"Come, come," said Scraper, and he winked at me respectfully; "we have known all about it for the last two months.

I got it out of Lord Broadhem very early in the day."

"Then you got a most deliberate and atrocious fabrication, for I suppose you mean the report of my marriage to his sister, and I beg you will contradict it most emphatically whenever you hear it," said I, very stiffly.

And I walked on into the House, leaving Grandon more petrified than the two little toadies I had snubbed.

I can generally listen to Gladstone when he is engaged in keeping the House in suspense over the results of his arithmetical calculations; but the relative merits of a reduction of the tax on tea and on malt fell flat on my ears that evening, and even the consideration of twopence in the pound off the income-tax failed to exercise that soothing influence on my mind which it seemed to produce on those around.

I looked in vain for Grandon; his accustomed seat remained empty, and I felt deeply penitent and miserable.

What is there in my nature that prompts me, when I am trying to act honestly and nobly, to be impracticable and perverse?

Grandon could not know the extent of the complication in which I am involved, and was right in saying what he did; yet I could no more at the moment help resenting it as I did, than a man in a passion who is struck can help returning the blow.

Then the fertility and readiness of invention which the demon of perverseness that haunts me invariably displays, fairly puzzles me.

And you too, I thought, as I looked up and saw little Scraper whispering eagerly to Dick Helter, who was regarding me with a bewildered look, quite unconscious that the Chancellor of the Exchequer had become poetical in regard to rags, and was announcing that we were about "To serve as model for the mighty world, And be the fair beginning of a time," --"ah," thought I, as I gazed on that brilliant and ingenious orator, "he is the only man in the House, who, if he was in such a mess as I am, would find a way out of it."

My first impulse on the following morning, before going to Grosvenor Square, was to go and apologise to Grandon; and I had an additional reason for doing so after reading the following paragraph in the 'Morning Post':-- "The Earl and Countess of Whitechapel had the honour of entertaining at dinner last night the Marquess and Marchioness of Scilly, the Countess (Dowager) of Broadhem, the Earl of Broadhem and Lady Ursula Newlyte, Mr and Lady Jane Helter, Lord Grandon, the Honourable Spiffington Goldtip, and Mr Scraper."

To have made it thoroughly unlucky I ought to have been there as a thirteenth.

As it is, I wonder what conclusion the company in general arrived at in reference to the affair in which I am so nearly interested, and I told them off in the order in which they must have gone in to dinner.

The Scillys and Whitechapels paired off; Helter took down old Lady Broadhem; Broadhem took Lady Jane; Grandon, Lady Ursula;

and Spiffy and Scraper brought up the rear.

I pictured the delight with which Helter would mystify Lady Broadhem, by allowing her to extract from him what he had heard first from me and then from Scraper, and how Spiffy and Scraper would each pretend to have the right version of the story, and be best informed on this important matter.

All this was easy enough, but my imagination failed to suggest what probably passed between Grandon and Ursula; so I screwed up my courage and determined to go up to Grandon's room and find out We often used to breakfast together, and I sent up my servant to tell him to expect me.

Under the circumstances I thought it right to give him the opportunity of refusing to see me, but I knew him too well to think that he would take advantage of it.

He was sitting at his writing-table looking pale and haggard, as I entered, and turned wearily towards me with an air of reserve very foreign to his nature.

"My dear Grandon," I said, "I have come to apologise to you for my unjustifiable conduct yesterday, but you cannot conceive the worry and annoyance to which I have been subject by the impertinent curiosity and unwarrantable interference of the world in my private affairs.

When you told me I was acting dishonourably, an impulse of petulance made me forget what was due to Ursula, and answer my inquisitive friends as I did; but I am on my way to Grosvenor Square now, and will put matters straight in an hour."

"The mischief is done," said Grandon, gloomily, "and it is not in your power to undo it.

Whatever may have been the motives by which you have been actuated--and far be it from me to judge them--you have caused an amount of misery which must last as long as those whom you have chosen as your victims live."

"I beseech you be more explicit," I said; "what happened last night?

--I

insist upon knowing."

"You know perfectly well that as you stand in no nearer relation to Lady Ursula than I do," and Grandon's voice trembled, while his eye gleamed for a second with a flash of triumph, "you have no right to insist upon anything; but I have no objection to tell you that as Lady Ursula was quite in ignorance of any such report having currency as that which has now received a certain stamp of authority, by virtue of the conspiracy into which you seem to have entered with her mother and brother, she was overwhelmed with confusion at the congratulations which it seems the ladies heaped upon her after dinner last night, and finally fainted.

Of course all London will be talking of it to-day, as the Helters went away early on purpose to get to Lady Mundane's before Scraper could arrive there with his version of the catastrophe."

"Did she tell you she did not care for me, Grandon?"

said I, very humbly.

"She told me to forgive you, and love you as I used to, God help me!"

burst out Grandon, and he covered his face with his hands.

"Frank," he said, "she is an angel of whom neither you nor I is worthy; but oh, spare her!

Don't, for God's sake hold her up to the pity and curiosity of London.

I would do anything on earth she told me; but what spell have you thrown over her that in spite of your heartless conduct she should still implore me to love and cherish you?

How can I obey her in this when your acts are so utterly at variance with all that is noble and honourable?

I have at least one cause for gratitude," he continued, in a calmer tone, "and that is, that the doubt which would force itself upon me when I vainly tried to account for her conduct in accepting you so suddenly has been removed."