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them pretty fully. In a carriage once more, bustling
about from milliner to linen-draper, escorted back to the
carriage by obsequious shopmen or polite owners, Mrs.
Sedley was herself again almost, and sincerely happy for
the first time since their misfortunes. Nor was Mrs.
Amelia at all above the pleasure of shopping, and
bargaining, and seeing and buying pretty things. (Would
any man, the most philosophic, give twopence for a
woman who was?) She gave herself a little treat,
obedient to her husband's orders, and purchased a
quantity of lady's gear, showing a great deal of taste and
elegant discernment, as all the shopfolks said.
And about the war that was ensuing, Mrs. Osborne
was not much alarmed; Bonaparty was to be crushed
almost without a struggle. Margate packets were sailing
every day, filled with men of fashion and ladies of note,
on their way to Brussels and Ghent. People were going
not so much to a war as to a fashionable tour. The
newspapers laughed the wretched upstart and swindler to
scorn. Such a Corsican wretch as that withstand the
armies of Europe and the genius of the immortal
Wellington! Amelia held him in utter contempt; for it needs
not to be said that this soft and gentle creature took her
opinions from those people who surrounded her, such
fidelity being much too humble-minded to think for itself.
Well, in a word, she and her mother performed a
great day's shopping, and she acquitted herself with
considerable liveliness and credit on this her first
appearance in the genteel world of London.
George meanwhile, with his hat on one side, his elbows
squared, and his swaggering martial air, made for
Bedford Row, and stalked into the attorney's offices as if
he was lord of every pale-faced clerk who was scribbling
there. He ordered somebody to inform Mr. Higgs that
Captain Osborne was waiting, in a fierce and patronizing
way, as if the pekin of an attorney, who had thrice his
brains, fifty times his money, and a thousand times his
experience, was a wretched underling who should
instantly leave all his business in life to attend on the
Captain's pleasure. He did not see the sneer of contempt
which passed all round the room, from the first
clerk to the articled gents, from the articled gents to the
ragged writers and white-faced runners, in clothes too
tight for them, as he sate there tapping his boot with his
cane, and thinking what a parcel of miserable poor devils
these were. The miserable poor devils knew all about his
affairs. They talked about them over their pints of beer
at their public-house clubs to other clerks of a night.
Ye gods, what do not attorneys and attorneys' clerks
know in London! Nothing is hidden from their
inquisition, and their families mutely rule our city.
Perhaps George expected, when he entered Mr. Higgs's
apartment, to find that gentleman commissioned to give
him some message of compromise or conciliation from
his father; perhaps his haughty and cold demeanour
was adopted as a sign of his spirit and resolution: but if
so, his fierceness was met by a chilling coolness and
indifference on the attorney's part, that rendered
swaggering absurd. He pretended to be writing at a paper,
when the Captain entered. "Pray, sit down, sir," said he,
"and I will attend to your little affair in a moment. Mr.
Poe, get the release papers, if you please"; and then he
fell to writing again.
Poe having produced those papers, his chief calculated
the amount of two thousand pounds stock at the rate of
the day; and asked Captain Osborne whether he would
take the sum in a cheque upon the bankers, or whether
he should direct the latter to purchase stock to that
amount. "One of the late Mrs. Osborne's trustees is out
of town," he said indifferently, "but my client wishes to
meet your wishes, and have done with the business as
quick as possible."
"Give me a cheque, sir," said the Captain very surlily.
"Damn the shillings and halfpence, sir," he added, as the
lawyer was making out the amount of the draft; and,
flattering himself that by this stroke of magnanimity he
had put the old quiz to the blush, he stalked out of
the office with the paper in his pocket.
"That chap will be in gaol in two years," Mr. Higgs said
to Mr. Poe.
"Won't O. come round, sir, don't you think?"
"Won't the monument come round," Mr. Higgs replied.
"He's going it pretty fast," said the clerk. "He's only
married a week, and I saw him and some other military
chaps handing Mrs. Highflyer to her carriage after the
play." And then another case was called, and Mr. George
Osborne thenceforth dismissed from these worthy
gentlemen's memory.
The draft was upon our friends Hulker and Bullock of
Lombard Street, to whose house, still thinking he was
doing business, George bent his way, and from whom he
received his money. Frederick Bullock, Esq., whose
yellow face was over a ledger, at which sate a demure clerk,
happened to be in the banking-room when George entered.
His yellow face turned to a more deadly colour
when he saw the Captain, and he slunk back guiltily into
the inmost parlour. George was too busy gloating over
the money (for he had never had such a sum before), to
mark the countenance or flight of the cadaverous suitor
of his sister.
Fred Bullock told old Osborne of his son's appearance
and conduct. "He came in as bold as brass," said
Frederick. "He has drawn out every shilling. How long
will a few hundred pounds last such a chap as that?"
Osborne swore with a great oath that he little cared when or
how soon he spent it. Fred dined every day in Russell
Square now. But altogether, George was highly pleased
with his day's business. All his own baggage and outfit
was put into a state of speedy preparation, and he paid
Amelia's purchases with cheques on his agents, and with
the splendour of a lord.
CHAPTER XXVII
In Which Amelia Joins Her Regiment
When Jos's fine carriage drove up to the inn door at
Chatham, the first face which Amelia recognized was the
friendly countenance of Captain Dobbin, who had been
pacing the street for an hour past in expectation of his
friends' arrival. The Captain, with shells on his frockcoat,
and a crimson sash and sabre, presented a military
appearance, which made Jos quite proud to be able to
claim such an acquaintance, and the stout civilian hailed
him with a cordiality very different from the reception
which Jos vouchsafed to his friend in Brighton and Bond
Street.
Along with the Captain was Ensign Stubble; who, as
the barouche neared the inn, burst out with an exclamation
of "By Jove! what a pretty girl"; highly applauding
Osborne's choice. Indeed, Amelia dressed in her wedding-
pelisse and pink ribbons, with a flush in her face,
occasioned by rapid travel through the open air, looked so
fresh and pretty, as fully to justify the Ensign's compliment.
Dobbin liked him for making it. As he stepped forward
to help the lady out of the carriage, Stubble saw
what a pretty little hand she gave him, and what a sweet
pretty little foot came tripping down the step. He blushed
profusely, and made the very best bow of which he was
capable; to which Amelia, seeing the number of the the
regiment embroidered on the Ensign's cap, replied with a
blushing smile, and a curtsey on her part; which finished
the young Ensign on the spot. Dobbin took most kindly to
Mr. Stubble from that day, and encouraged him to talk
about Amelia in their private walks, and at each other's
quarters. It became the fashion, indeed, among all the
honest young fellows of the --th to adore and admire
Mrs. Osborne. Her simple artless behaviour, and
modest kindness of demeanour, won all their unsophisticated
hearts; all which simplicity and sweetness are quite
impossible to describe in print. But who has not beheld
these among women, and recognised the presence of all
sorts of qualities in them, even though they say no more
to you than that they are engaged to dance the next
quadrille, or that it is very hot weather? George, always the
champion of his regiment, rose immensely in the opinion
of the youth of the corps, by his gallantry in marrying this
portionless young creature, and by his choice of such a
pretty kind partner.
In the sitting-room which was awaiting the travellers,
Amelia, to her surprise, found a letter addressed to Mrs.
Captain Osborne. It was a triangular billet, on pink paper,
and sealed with a dove and an olive branch, and a
profusion of light blue sealing wax, and it was written in
a very large, though undecided female hand.
"It's Peggy O'Dowd's fist," said George, laughing. "I
know it by the kisses on the seal." And in fact, it was a
note from Mrs. Major O'Dowd, requesting the pleasure
of Mrs. Osborne's company that very evening to a small
friendly party. "You must go," George said. "You will
make acquaintance with the regiment there. O'Dowd goes
in command of the regiment, and Peggy goes in command
But they had not been for many minutes in the enjoyment
of Mrs. O'Dowd's letter, when the door was flung
open, and a stout jolly lady, in a riding-habit, followed by
a couple of officers of Ours, entered the room.
"Sure, I couldn't stop till tay-time. Present me, Garge,
my dear fellow, to your lady. Madam, I'm deloighted to
see ye; and to present to you me husband, Meejor
O'Dowd"; and with this, the jolly lady in the riding-habit
grasped Amelia's hand very warmly, and the latter knew
at once that the lady was before her whom her husband
had so often laughed at. "You've often heard of me from
that husband of yours," said the lady, with great vivacity.
"You've often heard of her," echoed her husband, the
Major.
Amelia answered, smiling, "that she had."
"And small good he's told you of me," Mrs. O'Dowd
replied; adding that "George was a wicked divvle."
"That I'll go bail for," said the Major, trying to look
knowing, at which George laughed; and Mrs. O'Dowd,
with a tap of her whip, told the Major to be quiet; and
then requested to be presented in form to Mrs. Captain
Osborne.
"This, my dear," said George with great gravity, "is my
very good, kind, and excellent friend, Auralia Margaretta,
otherwise called Peggy."
"Faith, you're right," interposed the Major.
"Otherwise called Peggy, lady of Major Michael
O'Dowd, of our regiment, and daughter of Fitzjurld
Ber'sford de Burgo Malony of Glenmalony, County Kildare."
"And Muryan Squeer, Doblin," said the lady with calm
superiority.
"And Muryan Square, sure enough," the Major
whispered.
"'Twas there ye coorted me, Meejor dear," the lady
said; and the Major assented to this as to every other
proposition which was made generally in company.
Major O'Dowd, who had served his sovereign in every
quarter of the world, and had paid for every step in his
profession by some more than equivalent act of daring
and gallantry, was the most modest, silent, sheep-faced
and meek of little men, and as obedient to his wife as if
he had been her tay-boy. At the mess-table he sat silently,
and drank a great deal. When full of liquor, he
reeled silently home. When he spoke, it was to agree with
everybody on every conceivable point; and he passed
through life in perfect ease and good-humour. The
hottest suns of India never heated his temper; and the
Walcheren ague never shook it. He walked up to a battery
with just as much indifference as to a dinner-table; had
dined on horse-flesh and turtle with equal relish and
appetite; and had an old mother, Mrs. O'Dowd of
O'Dowdstown indeed, whom he had never disobeyed
but when he ran away and enlisted, and when he persisted
in marrying that odious Peggy Malony.
Peggy was one of five sisters, and eleven children of the
noble house of Glenmalony; but her husband, though her
own cousin, was of the mother's side, and so had not the
inestimable advantage of being allied to the Malonys,
whom she believed to be the most famous family in the
world. Having tried nine seasons at Dublin and two at
Bath and Cheltenham, and not finding a partner for life,
Miss Malony ordered her cousin Mick to marry her when
she was about thirty-three years of age; and the honest
fellow obeying, carried her off to the West Indies, to
preside over the ladies of the --th regiment, into which he
had just exchanged.
Before Mrs. O'Dowd was half an hour in Amelia's (or
indeed in anybody else's) company, this amiable lady told
all her birth and pedigree to her new friend. "My dear,"
said she, good-naturedly, "it was my intention that Garge
should be a brother of my own, and my sister Glorvina
would have suited him entirely. But as bygones are
bygones, and he was engaged to yourself, why, I'm
determined to take you as a sister instead, and to look upon
you as such, and to love you as one of the family. Faith,
you've got such a nice good-natured face and way widg
you, that I'm sure we'll agree; and that you'll be an
addition to our family anyway."
"'Deed and she will," said O'Dowd, with an approving
air, and Amelia felt herself not a little amused and
grateful to be thus suddenly introduced to so large a
party of relations.
"We're all good fellows here," the Major's lady continued.
"There's not a regiment in the service where you'll
find a more united society nor a more agreeable mess-
room. There's no quarrelling, bickering, slandthering, nor
small talk amongst us. We all love each other."
"Especially Mrs. Magenis," said George, laughing.
"Mrs. Captain Magenis and me has made up, though
her treatment of me would bring me gray hairs with
sorrow to the grave."
"And you with such a beautiful front of black, Peggy,
my dear," the Major cried.
"Hould your tongue, Mick, you booby. Them husbands
are always in the way, Mrs. Osborne, my dear; and as
for my Mick, I often tell him he should never open his
mouth but to give the word of command, or to put meat
and drink into it. I'll tell you about the regiment, and
warn you when we're alone. Introduce me to your brother
now; sure he's a mighty fine man, and reminds me of me
cousin, Dan Malony (Malony of Ballymalony, my dear,
you know who mar'ied Ophalia Scully, of Oystherstown,
own cousin to Lord Poldoody). Mr. Sedley, sir, I'm
deloighted to be made known te ye. I suppose you'll dine
at the mess to-day. (Mind that divvle of a docther, Mick,
and whatever ye du, keep yourself sober for me party
this evening.)"
"It's the 150th gives us a farewell dinner, my love,"
interposed the Major, "but we'll easy get a card for Mr.
Sedley."
"Run Simple (Ensign Simple, of Ours, my dear Amelia.
I forgot to introjuice him to ye). Run in a hurry, with
Mrs. Major O'Dowd's compliments to Colonel Tavish,
and Captain Osborne has brought his brothernlaw down,
and will bring him to the 150th mess at five o'clock sharp
--when you and I, my dear, will take a snack here, if you
like." Before Mrs. O'Dowd's speech was concluded, the
young Ensign was trotting downstairs on his commission.
"Obedience is the soul of the army. We will go to our
duty while Mrs. O'Dowd will stay and enlighten you,
Emmy," Captain Osborne said; and the two gentlemen,
taking each a wing of the Major, walked out with that
officer, grinning at each other over his head.
And, now having her new friend to herself, the impetuous
Mrs: O'Dowd proceeded to pour out such a
quantity of information as no poor little woman's memory
could ever tax itself to bear. She told Amelia a thousand
particulars relative to the very numerous family of which
the amazed young lady found herself a member. "Mrs.
Heavytop, the Colonel's wife, died in Jamaica of the
yellow faver and a broken heart comboined, for the horrud
old Colonel, with a head as bald as a cannon-ball, was
making sheep's eyes at a half-caste girl there. Mrs.
Magenis, though without education, was a good woman,
but she had the divvle's tongue, and would cheat her own
mother at whist. Mrs. Captain Kirk must turn up her
lobster eyes forsooth at the idea of an honest round game
(wherein me fawther, as pious a man as ever went to
church, me uncle Dane Malony, and our cousin the
Bishop, took a hand at loo, or whist, every night of their
lives). Nayther of 'em's goin' with the regiment this time,"
Mrs. O'Dowd added. "Fanny Magenis stops with her
mother, who sells small coal and potatoes, most likely,
in Islington-town, hard by London, though she's always
bragging of her father's ships, and pointing them out to us
as they go up the river: and Mrs. Kirk and her children
will stop here in Bethesda Place, to be nigh to her favourite
preacher, Dr. Ramshorn. Mrs. Bunny's in an interesting
situation--faith, and she always is, then--and has
given the Lieutenant seven already. And Ensign Posky's
wife, who joined two months before you, my dear, has
quarl'd with Tom Posky a score of times, till you can
hear'm all over the bar'ck (they say they're come to
broken pleets, and Tom never accounted for his black oi),
and she'll go back to her mother, who keeps a ladies'
siminary at Richmond--bad luck to her for running away
from it! Where did ye get your finishing, my dear? I had
moin, and no expince spared, at Madame Flanahan's, at
Ilyssus Grove, Booterstown, near Dublin, wid a Marchioness
to teach us the true Parisian pronunciation, and a retired
Mejor-General of the French service to put us
through the exercise."
Of this incongruous family our astonished Amelia found
herself all of a sudden a member: with Mrs. O'Dowd as
an elder sister. She was presented to her other female
relations at tea-time, on whom, as she was quiet, good-
natured, and not too handsome, she made rather an
agreeable impression until the arrival of the gentlemen from
the mess of the 150th, who all admired her so, that her
sisters began, of course, to find fault with her.
"I hope Osborne has sown his wild oats," said Mrs.
Magenis to Mrs. Bunny. "If a reformed rake makes a
good husband, sure it's she will have the fine chance with
Garge," Mrs. O'Dowd remarked to Posky, who had lost
her position as bride in the regiment, and was quite angry
with the usurper. And as for Mrs. Kirk: that disciple of
Dr. Ramshorn put one or two leading professional
questions to Amelia, to see whether she was awakened,
whether she was a professing Christian and so forth, and
finding from the simplicity of Mrs. Osborne's replies that
she was yet in utter darkness, put into her hands three
little penny books with pictures, viz., the "Howling
Wilderness," the "Washerwoman of Wandsworth Common,"
and the "British Soldier's best Bayonet," which, bent upon
awakening her before she slept, Mrs. Kirk begged Amelia
to read that night ere she went to bed.
But all the men, like good fellows as they were, rallied
round their comrade's pretty wife, and paid her their
court with soldierly gallantry. She had a little triumph,
which flushed her spirits and made her eyes sparkle.
George was proud of her popularity, and pleased with the
manner (which was very gay and graceful, though naive
and a little timid) with which she received the gentlemen's attentions, and answered their compliments. And
he in his uniform--how much handsomer he was than
any man in the room! She felt that he was affectionately
watching her, and glowed with pleasure at his kindness. "I
will make all his friends welcome," she resolved in her
heart. "I will love all as I love him. I will always try and
be gay and good-humoured and make his home happy."
The regiment indeed adopted her with acclamation.
The Captains approved, the Lieutenants applauded, the
Ensigns admired. Old Cutler, the Doctor, made one or
two jokes, which, being professional, need not be repeated;
and Cackle, the Assistant M.D. of Edinburgh, condescended
to examine her upon leeterature, and tried her
with his three best French quotations. Young Stubble went
about from man to man whispering, "Jove, isn't she a
pretty gal?" and never took his eyes off her except when
the negus came in.
As for Captain Dobbin, he never so much as spoke to
her during the whole evening. But he and Captain Porter
of the l50th took home Jos to the hotel, who was in a
very maudlin state, and had told his tiger-hunt story with
great effect, both at the mess-table and at the soiree, to
Mrs. O'Dowd in her turban and bird of paradise. Having
put the Collector into the hands of his servant, Dobbin
loitered about, smoking his cigar before the inn door.
George had meanwhile very carefully shawled his wife,
and brought her away from Mrs. O'Dowd's after a general
handshaking from the young officers, who accompanied
her to the fly, and cheered that vehicle as it drove off. So
Amelia gave Dobbin her little hand as she got out of the
carriage, and rebuked him smilingly for not having taken
any notice of her all night.
The Captain continued that deleterious amusement of
smoking, long after the inn and the street were gone to
bed. He watched the lights vanish from George's sitting-
room windows, and shine out in the bedroom close at
hand. It was almost morning when he returned to his own
quarters. He could hear the cheering from the ships in
the river, where the transports were already taking in
their cargoes preparatory to dropping down the Thames.
CHAPTER XVIII
In Which Amelia Invades the Low Countries
The regiment with its officers was to be transported in
ships provided by His Majesty's government for the
occasion: and in two days after the festive assembly at Mrs.
O'Dowd's apartments, in the midst of cheering from all
the East India ships in the river, and the military on shore,
the band playing "God Save the King," the officers waving
their hats, and the crews hurrahing gallantly, the transports
went down the river and proceeded under convoy to
Ostend. Meanwhile the gallant Jos had agreed to escort
his sister and the Major's wife, the bulk of whose goods
and chattels, including the famous bird of paradise and
turban, were with the regimental baggage: so that our
two heroines drove pretty much unencumbered to
Ramsgate, where there were plenty of packets plying, in
one of which they had a speedy passage to Ostend.
That period of Jos's life which now ensued was so full
of incident, that it served him for conversation for
many years after, and even the tiger-hunt story was put
aside for more stirring narratives which he had to tell
about the great campaign of Waterloo. As soon as he
had agreed to escort his sister abroad, it was remarked
that he ceased shaving his upper lip. At Chatham he
followed the parades and drills with great assiduity. He
listened with the utmost attention to the conversation of
his brother officers (as he called them in after days
sometimes), and learned as many military names as he could.
In these studies the excellent Mrs. O'Dowd was of great
assistance to him; and on the day finally when they
embarked on board the Lovely Rose, which was to carry
them to their destination, he made his appearance in a
braided frock-coat and duck trousers, with a foraging
cap ornamented with a smart gold band. Having his
carriage with him, and informing everybody on board
confidentially that he was going to join the Duke of
Wellington's army, folks mistook him for a great personage, a
commissary-general, or a government courier at the very
least.
He suffered hugely on the voyage, during which the
ladies were likewise prostrate; but Amelia was brought to
life again as the packet made Ostend, by the sight of
the transports conveying her regiment, which entered the
harbour almost at the same time with the Lovely Rose.
Jos went in a collapsed state to an inn, while Captain
Dobbin escorted the ladies, and then busied himself in
freeing Jos's carriage and luggage from the ship and the
custom-house, for Mr. Jos was at present without a
servant, Osborne's man and his own pampered menial
having conspired together at Chatham, and refused point-
blank to cross the water. This revolt, which came very
suddenly, and on the last day, so alarmed Mr. Sedley,
junior, that he was on the point of giving up the expedition,
but Captain Dobbin (who made himself immensely
officious in the business, Jos said), rated him and
laughed at him soundly: the mustachios were grown in
advance, and Jos finally was persuaded to embark. In
place of the well-bred and well-fed London domestics,
who could only speak English, Dobbin procured for Jos's
party a swarthy little Belgian servant who could speak
no language at all; but who, by his bustling behaviour,
and by invariably addressing Mr. Sedley as "My lord,"
speedily acquired that gentleman's favour. Times are
altered at Ostend now; of the Britons who go thither,
very few look like lords, or act like those members of
our hereditary aristocracy. They seem for the most part
shabby in attire, dingy of linen, lovers of billiards and
brandy, and cigars and greasy ordinaries.
But it may be said as a rule, that every Englishman
in the Duke of Wellington's army paid his way. The
remembrance of such a fact surely becomes a nation of
shopkeepers. It was a blessing for a commerce-loving
country to be overrun by such an army of customers:
and to have such creditable warriors to feed. And the
country which they came to protect is not military. For
a long period of history they have let other people fight
there. When the present writer went to survey with eagle
glance the field of Waterloo, we asked the conductor of
the diligence, a portly warlike-looking veteran, whether
he had been at the battle. "Pas si bete"--such an
answer and sentiment as no Frenchman would own to--
was his reply. But, on the other hand, the postilion
who drove us was a Viscount, a son of some bankrupt
Imperial General, who accepted a pennyworth of beer
on the road. The moral is surely a good one.
This flat, flourishing, easy country never could have
looked more rich and prosperous than in that opening
summer of 1815, when its green fields and quiet cities
were enlivened by multiplied red-coats: when its wide
chaussees swarmed with brilliant English equipages:
when its great canal-boats, gliding by rich pastures and
pleasant quaint old villages, by old chateaux lying
amongst old trees, were all crowded with well-to-do English travellers: when the soldier who drank at the village
inn, not only drank, but paid his score; and Donald,
the Highlander, billeted in the Flemish farm-house,
rocked the baby's cradle, while Jean and Jeannette were
out getting in the hay. As our painters are bent on military
subjects just now, I throw out this as a good subject
for the pencil, to illustrate the principle of an honest
English war. All looked as brilliant and harmless as a
Hyde Park review. Meanwhile, Napoleon screened behind
his curtain of frontier-fortresses, was preparing for
the outbreak which was to drive all these orderly people
into fury and blood; and lay so many of them low.
Everybody had such a perfect feeling of confidence
in the leader (for the resolute faith which the Duke of
Wellington had inspired in the whole English nation was
as intense as that more frantic enthusiasm with which
at one time the French regarded Napoleon), the country
seemed in so perfect a state of orderly defence, and the
help at hand in case of need so near and overwhelming,
that alarm was unknown, and our travellers, among
whom two were naturally of a very timid sort, were,
like all the other multiplied English tourists, entirely at
ease. The famous regiment, with so many of whose
officers we have made acquaintance, was drafted in canal
boats to Bruges and Ghent, thence to march to Brussels.
Jos accompanied the ladies in the public boats; the which
all old travellers in Flanders must remember for the
luxury and accommodation they afforded. So prodigiously
good was the eating and drinking on board these
sluggish but most comfortable vessels, that there are legends
extant of an English traveller, who, coming to Belgium
for a week, and travelling in one of these boats, was so
delighted with the fare there that he went backwards
and forwards from Ghent to Bruges perpetually until the
railroads were invented, when he drowned himself on the
last trip of the passage-boat. Jos's death was not to be
of this sort, but his comfort was exceeding, and Mrs.
O'Dowd insisted that he only wanted her sister Glorvina
to make his happiness complete. He sate on the roof
of the cabin all day drinking Flemish beer, shouting for
Isidor, his servant, and talking gallantly to the ladies.
His courage was prodigious. "Boney attack us!" he
cried. "My dear creature, my poor Emmy, don't be
frightened. There's no danger. The allies will be in Paris
in two months, I tell you; when I'll take you to dine
in the Palais Royal, by Jove! There are three hundred
thousand Rooshians, I tell you, now entering France by
Mayence and the Rhine--three hundred thousand under
Wittgenstein and Barclay de Tolly, my poor love. You
don't know military affairs, my dear. I do, and I tell
you there's no infantry in France can stand against
Rooshian infantry, and no general of Boney's that's fit
to hold a candle to Wittgenstein. Then there are the
Austrians, they are five hundred thousand if a man, and
they are within ten marches of the frontier by this time,
under Schwartzenberg and Prince Charles. Then there are
the Prooshians under the gallant Prince Marshal. Show
me a cavalry chief like him now that Murat is gone.
Hey, Mrs. O'Dowd? Do you think our little girl here
need be afraid? Is there any cause for fear, Isidor? Hey,
sir? Get some more beer."
Mrs. O'Dowd said that her "Glorvina was not afraid
of any man alive, let alone a Frenchman," and tossed
off a glass of beer with a wink which expressed her
liking for the beverage.
Having frequently been in presence of the enemy, or,
in other words, faced the ladies at Cheltenham and Bath,
our friend, the Collector, had lost a great deal of his
pristine timidity, and was now, especially when fortified
with liquor, as talkative as might be. He was rather a
favourite with the regiment, treating the young officers
with sumptuosity, and amusing them by his military airs.
And as there is one well-known regiment of the army
which travels with a goat heading the column, whilst
another is led by a deer, George said with respect to his
brother-in-law, that his regiment marched with an
elephant.
Since Amelia's introduction to the regiment, George
began to be rather ashamed of some of the company to
which he had been forced to present her; and determined,
as he told Dobbin (with what satisfaction to the latter
it need not be said), to exchange into some better regiment
soon, and to get his wife away from those damned
vulgar women. But this vulgarity of being ashamed of
one's society is much more common among men than
women (except very great ladies of fashion, who, to be
sure, indulge in it); and Mrs. Amelia, a natural and
unaffected person, had none of that artificial shamefacedness
which her husband mistook for delicacy on his own
part. Thus Mrs. O'Dowd had a cock's plume in her hat,
and a very large "repayther" on her stomach, which she
used to ring on all occasions, narrating how it had been
presented to her by her fawther, as she stipt into the
car'ge after her mar'ge; and these ornaments, with other
outward peculiarities of the Major's wife, gave excruciating
agonies to Captain Osborne, when his wife and the
Major's came in contact; whereas Amelia was only
amused by the honest lady's eccentricities, and not in
the least ashamed of her company.
As they made that well-known journey, which almost
every Englishman of middle rank has travelled since,
there might have been more instructive, but few more
entertaining, companions than Mrs. Major O'Dowd. "Talk
about kenal boats; my dear! Ye should see the kenal
boats between Dublin and Ballinasloe. It's there the rapid
travelling is; and the beautiful cattle. Sure me fawther
got a goold medal (and his Excellency himself eat a slice
of it, and said never was finer mate in his loif) for a
four-year-old heifer, the like of which ye never saw in
this country any day." And Jos owned with a sigh, "that
for good streaky beef, really mingled with fat and lean,
there was no country like England."
"Except Ireland, where all your best mate comes from,"
said the Major's lady; proceeding, as is not unusual with
patriots of her nation, to make comparisons greatly in
favour of her own country. The idea of comparing the
market at Bruges with those of Dublin, although she had
suggested it herself, caused immense scorn and derision
on her part. "I'll thank ye tell me what they mean by
that old gazabo on the top of the market-place," said
she, in a burst of ridicule fit to have brought the old
tower down. The place was full of English soldiery as
they passed. English bugles woke them in the morning;
at nightfall they went to bed to the note of the British
fife and drum: all the country and Europe was in arms,
and the greatest event of history pending: and honest
Peggy O'Dowd, whom it concerned as well as another,
went on prattling about Ballinafad, and the horses in the
stables at Glenmalony, and the clar't drunk there; and
Jos Sedley interposed about curry and rice at Dumdum;
and Amelia thought about her husband, and how best
she should show her love for him; as if these were
the great topics of the world.
Those who like to lay down the History-book, and to
speculate upon what MIGHT have happened in the world,
but for the fatal occurrence of what actually did take
place (a most puzzling, amusing, ingenious, and profitable
kind of meditation), have no doubt often thought to
themselves what a specially bad time Napoleon took to
come back from Elba, and to let loose his eagle from
Gulf San Juan to Notre Dame. The historians on our
side tell us that the armies of the allied powers were
all providentially on a war-footing, and ready to bear
down at a moment's notice upon the Elban Emperor.
The august jobbers assembled at Vienna, and carving
out the kingdoms of Europe according to their wisdom,
had such causes of quarrel among themselves as might
have set the armies which had overcome Napoleon to
fight against each other, but for the return of the object
of unanimous hatred and fear. This monarch had an army
in full force because he had jobbed to himself Poland,
and was determined to keep it: another had robbed half
Saxony, and was bent upon maintaining his acquisition:
Italy was the object of a third's solicitude. Each was
protesting against the rapacity of the other; and could the
Corsican but have waited in prison until all these parties
were by the ears, he might have returned and reigned
unmolested. But what would have become of our story
and all our friends, then? If all the drops in it were dried
up, what would become of the sea?
In the meanwhile the business of life and living, and
the pursuits of pleasure, especially, went on as if no end
were to be expected to them, and no enemy in front.
When our travellers arrived at Brussels, in which their
regiment was quartered, a great piece of good fortune,
as all said, they found themselves in one of the gayest
and most brilliant little capitals in Europe, and where
all the Vanity Fair booths were laid out with the most
tempting liveliness and splendour. Gambling was here in
profusion, and dancing in plenty: feasting was there to
fill with delight that great gourmand of a Jos: there
was a theatre where a miraculous Catalani was delighting
all hearers: beautiful rides, all enlivened with martial
splendour; a rare old city, with strange costumes and
wonderful architecture, to delight the eyes of little Amelia,
who had never before seen a foreign country, and fill
her with charming surprises: so that now and for a few
weeks' space in a fine handsome lodging, whereof the
expenses were borne by Jos and Osborne, who was flush
of money and full of kind attentions to his wife--for
about a fortnight, I say, during which her honeymoon
ended, Mrs. Amelia was as pleased and happy as any
little bride out of England.
Every day during this happy time there was novelty
and amusement for all parties. There was a church to
see, or a picture-gallery--there was a ride, or an opera.
The bands of the regiments were making music at all
hours. The greatest folks of England walked in the Park
--there was a perpetual military festival. George, taking
out his wife to a new jaunt or junket every night, was
quite pleased with himself as usual, and swore he was
becoming quite a domestic character. And a jaunt or
a junket with HIM! Was it not enough to set this little
heart beating with joy? Her letters home to her mother
were filled with delight and gratitude at this season. Her
husband bade her buy laces, millinery, jewels, and
gimcracks of all sorts. Oh, he was the kindest, best, and
most generous of men!
The sight of the very great company of lords and ladies
and fashionable persons who thronged the town, and
appeared in every public place, filled George's truly British
soul with intense delight. They flung off that happy
frigidity and insolence of demeanour which occasionally
characterises the great at home, and appearing in
numberless public places, condescended to mingle with the
rest of the company whom they met there. One night
at a party given by the general of the division to which
George's regiment belonged, he had the honour of dancing
with Lady Blanche Thistlewood, Lord Bareacres'
daughter; he bustled for ices and refreshments for the
two noble ladies; he pushed and squeezed for Lady
Bareacres' carriage; he bragged about the Countess when
he got home, in a way which his own father could not
have surpassed. He called upon the ladies the next day;
he rode by their side in the Park; he asked their party
to a great dinner at a restaurateur's, and was quite
wild with exultation when they agreed to come. Old
Bareacres, who had not much pride and a large appetite,
would go for a dinner anywhere.
"I.hope there will be no women besides our own
party," Lady Bareacres said, after reflecting upon the
invitation which had been made, and accepted with too
much precipitancy.
"Gracious Heaven, Mamma--you don't suppose the
man would bring his wife," shrieked Lady Blanche, who
had been languishing in George's arms in the newly
imported waltz for hours the night before. "The men are
bearable, but their women--"
"Wife, just married, dev'lish pretty woman, I hear,"
the old Earl said.
"Well, my dear Blanche," said the mother, "I suppose,
as Papa wants to go, we must go; but we needn't know
them in England, you know." And so, determined to cut
their new acquaintance in Bond Street, these great folks
went to eat his dinner at Brussels, and condescending to
make him pay for their pleasure, showed their dignity
by making his wife uncomfortable, and carefully excluding
her from the conversation. This is a species of dignity
in which the high-bred British female reigns supreme. To
watch the behaviour of a fine lady to other and humbler
women, is a very good sport for a philosophical frequenter
of Vanity Fair.
This festival, on which honest George spent a great
deal of money, was the very dismallest of all the
entertainments which Amelia had in her honeymoon. She
wrote the most piteous accounts of the feast home to
her mamma: how the Countess of Bareacres would not
answer when spoken to; how Lady Blanche stared at her
with her eye-glass; and what a rage Captain Dobbin was
in at their behaviour; and how my lord, as they came
away from the feast, asked to see the bill, and pronounced
it a d-- bad dinner, and d-- dear. But though Amelia
told all these stories, and wrote home regarding
her guests' rudeness, and her own discomfiture,
old Mrs. Sedley was mightily pleased nevertheless,
and talked about Emmy's friend, the Countess of
Bareacres, with such assiduity that the news how his son
was entertaining peers and peeresses actually came to
Osborne's ears in the City.
Those who know the present Lieutenant-General Sir
George Tufto, K.C.B., and have seen him, as they may
on most days in the season, padded and in stays, strutting
down Pall Mall with a rickety swagger on his high-heeled
lacquered boots, leering under the bonnets of passers-
by, or riding a showy chestnut, and ogling broughams in
the Parks--those who know the present Sir George Tufto
would hardly recognise the daring Peninsular and Waterloo
officer. He has thick curling brown hair and black
eyebrows now, and his whiskers are of the deepest
purple. He was light-haired and bald in 1815, and stouter
in the person and in the limbs, which especially have
shrunk very much of late. When he was about seventy
years of age (he is now nearly eighty), his hair, which
was very scarce and quite white, suddenly grew thick,
and brown, and curly, and his whiskers and eyebrows
took their present colour. Ill-natured people say that
his chest is all wool, and that his hair, because it never
grows, is a wig. Tom Tufto, with whose father he quarrelled
ever so many years ago, declares that Mademoiselle
de Jaisey, of the French theatre, pulled his
grandpapa's hair off in the green-room; but Tom is
notoriously spiteful and jealous; and the General's wig has
nothing to do with our story.
One day, as some of our friends of the --th were
sauntering in the flower-market of Brussels, having been
to see the Hotel de Ville, which Mrs. Major O'Dowd
declared was not near so large or handsome as her
fawther's mansion of Glenmalony, an officer of rank, with
an orderly behind him, rode up to the market, and
descending from his horse, came amongst the flowers, and
selected the very finest bouquet which money could buy.
The beautiful bundle being tied up in a paper, the officer
remounted, giving the nosegay into the charge of his
military groom, who carried it with a grin, following his
chief, who rode away in great state and self-satisfaction.
"You should see the flowers at Glenmalony," Mrs.
O'Dowd was remarking. "Me fawther has three Scotch
garners with nine helpers. We have an acre of hot-houses,
and pines as common as pays in the sayson. Our greeps
weighs six pounds every bunch of 'em, and upon me
honour and conscience I think our magnolias is as big
as taykettles."
Dobbin, who never used to "draw out" Mrs. O'Dowd
as that wicked Osborne delighted in doing (much to
Amelia's terror, who implored him to spare her), fell
back in the crowd, crowing and sputtering until he
reached a safe distance, when he exploded amongst the
astonished market-people with shrieks of yelling laughter.
"Hwhat's that gawky guggling about?" said Mrs.
O'Dowd. "Is it his nose bleedn? He always used to say
'twas his nose bleedn, till he must have pomped all the
blood out of 'um. An't the magnolias at Glenmalony
as big as taykettles, O'Dowd?"
"'Deed then they are, and bigger, Peggy," the Major
said. When the conversation was interrupted in the
manner stated by the arrival of the officer who purchased
the bouquet.
"Devlish fine horse--who is it?" George asked.
"You should see me brother Molloy Malony's horse,
Molasses, that won the cop at the Curragh," the Major's
wife was exclaiming, and was continuing the family
history, when her husband interrupted her by saying--
"It's General Tufto, who commands the ---- cavalry
division"; adding quietly, "he and I were both shot in
the same leg at Talavera."
"Where you got your step," said George with a laugh.
"General Tufto! Then, my dear, the Crawleys are come."
Amelia's heart fell--she knew not why. The sun did
not seem to shine so bright. The tall old roofs and
gables looked less picturesque all of a sudden, though
it was a brilliant sunset, and one of the brightest and
most beautiful days at the end of May.
CHAPTER XXIX
Brussels
Mr. Jos had hired a pair of horses for his open carriage,
with which cattle, and the smart London vehicle, he made
a very tolerable figure in the drives about Brussels.
George purchased a horse for his private riding, and
he and Captain Dobbin would often accompany the
carriage in which Jos and his sister took daily excursions
of pleasure. They went out that day in the park for their
accustomed diversion, and there, sure enough, George's
remark with regard to the arrival of Rawdon Crawley and
his wife proved to be correct. In the midst of a little
troop of horsemen, consisting of some of the very greatest
persons in Brussels, Rebecca was seen in the prettiest
and tightest of riding-habits, mounted on a beautiful
little Arab, which she rode to perfection (having acquired
the art at Queen's Crawley, where the Baronet, Mr.
Pitt, and Rawdon himself had given her many lessons),
and by the side of the gallant General Tufto.
"Sure it's the Juke himself," cried Mrs. Major O'Dowd
to Jos, who began to blush violently; "and that's Lord
Uxbridge on the bay. How elegant he looks! Me brother,
Molloy Malony, is as like him as two pays."
Rebecca did not make for the carriage; but as soon
as she perceived her old acquaintance Amelia seated in
it, acknowledged her presence by a gracious nod and
smile, and by kissing and shaking her fingers playfully
in the direction of the vehicle. Then she resumed her
conversation with General Tufto, who asked "who the
fat officer was in the gold-laced cap?" on which Becky
replied, "that he was an officer in the East Indian service."
But Rawdon Crawley rode out of the ranks of his
company, and came up and shook hands heartily with
Amelia, and said to Jos, "Well, old boy, how are you?"
and stared in Mrs. O'Dowd's face and at.the black cock's
feathers until she began to think she had made a
conquest of him.
George, who had been delayed behind, rode up almost
immediately with Dobbin, and they touched their caps to
the august personages, among whom Osborne at once
perceived Mrs. Crawley. He was delighted to see Rawdon
leaning over his carriage familiarly and talking to Amelia,
and met the aide-de-camp's cordial greeting with more
than corresponding warmth. The nods between Rawdon
and Dobbin were of the very faintest specimens of
politeness.
Crawley told George where they were stopping with
about from milliner to linen-draper, escorted back to the
carriage by obsequious shopmen or polite owners, Mrs.
Sedley was herself again almost, and sincerely happy for
the first time since their misfortunes. Nor was Mrs.
Amelia at all above the pleasure of shopping, and
bargaining, and seeing and buying pretty things. (Would
any man, the most philosophic, give twopence for a
woman who was?) She gave herself a little treat,
obedient to her husband's orders, and purchased a
quantity of lady's gear, showing a great deal of taste and
elegant discernment, as all the shopfolks said.
And about the war that was ensuing, Mrs. Osborne
was not much alarmed; Bonaparty was to be crushed
almost without a struggle. Margate packets were sailing
every day, filled with men of fashion and ladies of note,
on their way to Brussels and Ghent. People were going
not so much to a war as to a fashionable tour. The
newspapers laughed the wretched upstart and swindler to
scorn. Such a Corsican wretch as that withstand the
armies of Europe and the genius of the immortal
Wellington! Amelia held him in utter contempt; for it needs
not to be said that this soft and gentle creature took her
opinions from those people who surrounded her, such
fidelity being much too humble-minded to think for itself.
Well, in a word, she and her mother performed a
great day's shopping, and she acquitted herself with
considerable liveliness and credit on this her first
appearance in the genteel world of London.
George meanwhile, with his hat on one side, his elbows
squared, and his swaggering martial air, made for
Bedford Row, and stalked into the attorney's offices as if
he was lord of every pale-faced clerk who was scribbling
there. He ordered somebody to inform Mr. Higgs that
Captain Osborne was waiting, in a fierce and patronizing
way, as if the pekin of an attorney, who had thrice his
brains, fifty times his money, and a thousand times his
experience, was a wretched underling who should
instantly leave all his business in life to attend on the
Captain's pleasure. He did not see the sneer of contempt
which passed all round the room, from the first
clerk to the articled gents, from the articled gents to the
ragged writers and white-faced runners, in clothes too
tight for them, as he sate there tapping his boot with his
cane, and thinking what a parcel of miserable poor devils
these were. The miserable poor devils knew all about his
affairs. They talked about them over their pints of beer
at their public-house clubs to other clerks of a night.
Ye gods, what do not attorneys and attorneys' clerks
know in London! Nothing is hidden from their
inquisition, and their families mutely rule our city.
Perhaps George expected, when he entered Mr. Higgs's
apartment, to find that gentleman commissioned to give
him some message of compromise or conciliation from
his father; perhaps his haughty and cold demeanour
was adopted as a sign of his spirit and resolution: but if
so, his fierceness was met by a chilling coolness and
indifference on the attorney's part, that rendered
swaggering absurd. He pretended to be writing at a paper,
when the Captain entered. "Pray, sit down, sir," said he,
"and I will attend to your little affair in a moment. Mr.
Poe, get the release papers, if you please"; and then he
fell to writing again.
Poe having produced those papers, his chief calculated
the amount of two thousand pounds stock at the rate of
the day; and asked Captain Osborne whether he would
take the sum in a cheque upon the bankers, or whether
he should direct the latter to purchase stock to that
amount. "One of the late Mrs. Osborne's trustees is out
of town," he said indifferently, "but my client wishes to
meet your wishes, and have done with the business as
quick as possible."
"Give me a cheque, sir," said the Captain very surlily.
"Damn the shillings and halfpence, sir," he added, as the
lawyer was making out the amount of the draft; and,
flattering himself that by this stroke of magnanimity he
had put the old quiz to the blush, he stalked out of
the office with the paper in his pocket.
"That chap will be in gaol in two years," Mr. Higgs said
to Mr. Poe.
"Won't O. come round, sir, don't you think?"
"Won't the monument come round," Mr. Higgs replied.
"He's going it pretty fast," said the clerk. "He's only
married a week, and I saw him and some other military
chaps handing Mrs. Highflyer to her carriage after the
play." And then another case was called, and Mr. George
Osborne thenceforth dismissed from these worthy
gentlemen's memory.
The draft was upon our friends Hulker and Bullock of
Lombard Street, to whose house, still thinking he was
doing business, George bent his way, and from whom he
received his money. Frederick Bullock, Esq., whose
yellow face was over a ledger, at which sate a demure clerk,
happened to be in the banking-room when George entered.
His yellow face turned to a more deadly colour
when he saw the Captain, and he slunk back guiltily into
the inmost parlour. George was too busy gloating over
the money (for he had never had such a sum before), to
mark the countenance or flight of the cadaverous suitor
of his sister.
Fred Bullock told old Osborne of his son's appearance
and conduct. "He came in as bold as brass," said
Frederick. "He has drawn out every shilling. How long
will a few hundred pounds last such a chap as that?"
Osborne swore with a great oath that he little cared when or
how soon he spent it. Fred dined every day in Russell
Square now. But altogether, George was highly pleased
with his day's business. All his own baggage and outfit
was put into a state of speedy preparation, and he paid
Amelia's purchases with cheques on his agents, and with
the splendour of a lord.
CHAPTER XXVII
In Which Amelia Joins Her Regiment
When Jos's fine carriage drove up to the inn door at
Chatham, the first face which Amelia recognized was the
friendly countenance of Captain Dobbin, who had been
pacing the street for an hour past in expectation of his
friends' arrival. The Captain, with shells on his frockcoat,
and a crimson sash and sabre, presented a military
appearance, which made Jos quite proud to be able to
claim such an acquaintance, and the stout civilian hailed
him with a cordiality very different from the reception
which Jos vouchsafed to his friend in Brighton and Bond
Street.
Along with the Captain was Ensign Stubble; who, as
the barouche neared the inn, burst out with an exclamation
of "By Jove! what a pretty girl"; highly applauding
Osborne's choice. Indeed, Amelia dressed in her wedding-
pelisse and pink ribbons, with a flush in her face,
occasioned by rapid travel through the open air, looked so
fresh and pretty, as fully to justify the Ensign's compliment.
Dobbin liked him for making it. As he stepped forward
to help the lady out of the carriage, Stubble saw
what a pretty little hand she gave him, and what a sweet
pretty little foot came tripping down the step. He blushed
profusely, and made the very best bow of which he was
capable; to which Amelia, seeing the number of the the
regiment embroidered on the Ensign's cap, replied with a
blushing smile, and a curtsey on her part; which finished
the young Ensign on the spot. Dobbin took most kindly to
Mr. Stubble from that day, and encouraged him to talk
about Amelia in their private walks, and at each other's
quarters. It became the fashion, indeed, among all the
honest young fellows of the --th to adore and admire
Mrs. Osborne. Her simple artless behaviour, and
modest kindness of demeanour, won all their unsophisticated
hearts; all which simplicity and sweetness are quite
impossible to describe in print. But who has not beheld
these among women, and recognised the presence of all
sorts of qualities in them, even though they say no more
to you than that they are engaged to dance the next
quadrille, or that it is very hot weather? George, always the
champion of his regiment, rose immensely in the opinion
of the youth of the corps, by his gallantry in marrying this
portionless young creature, and by his choice of such a
pretty kind partner.
In the sitting-room which was awaiting the travellers,
Amelia, to her surprise, found a letter addressed to Mrs.
Captain Osborne. It was a triangular billet, on pink paper,
and sealed with a dove and an olive branch, and a
profusion of light blue sealing wax, and it was written in
a very large, though undecided female hand.
"It's Peggy O'Dowd's fist," said George, laughing. "I
know it by the kisses on the seal." And in fact, it was a
note from Mrs. Major O'Dowd, requesting the pleasure
of Mrs. Osborne's company that very evening to a small
friendly party. "You must go," George said. "You will
make acquaintance with the regiment there. O'Dowd goes
in command of the regiment, and Peggy goes in command
But they had not been for many minutes in the enjoyment
of Mrs. O'Dowd's letter, when the door was flung
open, and a stout jolly lady, in a riding-habit, followed by
a couple of officers of Ours, entered the room.
"Sure, I couldn't stop till tay-time. Present me, Garge,
my dear fellow, to your lady. Madam, I'm deloighted to
see ye; and to present to you me husband, Meejor
O'Dowd"; and with this, the jolly lady in the riding-habit
grasped Amelia's hand very warmly, and the latter knew
at once that the lady was before her whom her husband
had so often laughed at. "You've often heard of me from
that husband of yours," said the lady, with great vivacity.
"You've often heard of her," echoed her husband, the
Major.
Amelia answered, smiling, "that she had."
"And small good he's told you of me," Mrs. O'Dowd
replied; adding that "George was a wicked divvle."
"That I'll go bail for," said the Major, trying to look
knowing, at which George laughed; and Mrs. O'Dowd,
with a tap of her whip, told the Major to be quiet; and
then requested to be presented in form to Mrs. Captain
Osborne.
"This, my dear," said George with great gravity, "is my
very good, kind, and excellent friend, Auralia Margaretta,
otherwise called Peggy."
"Faith, you're right," interposed the Major.
"Otherwise called Peggy, lady of Major Michael
O'Dowd, of our regiment, and daughter of Fitzjurld
Ber'sford de Burgo Malony of Glenmalony, County Kildare."
"And Muryan Squeer, Doblin," said the lady with calm
superiority.
"And Muryan Square, sure enough," the Major
whispered.
"'Twas there ye coorted me, Meejor dear," the lady
said; and the Major assented to this as to every other
proposition which was made generally in company.
Major O'Dowd, who had served his sovereign in every
quarter of the world, and had paid for every step in his
profession by some more than equivalent act of daring
and gallantry, was the most modest, silent, sheep-faced
and meek of little men, and as obedient to his wife as if
he had been her tay-boy. At the mess-table he sat silently,
and drank a great deal. When full of liquor, he
reeled silently home. When he spoke, it was to agree with
everybody on every conceivable point; and he passed
through life in perfect ease and good-humour. The
hottest suns of India never heated his temper; and the
Walcheren ague never shook it. He walked up to a battery
with just as much indifference as to a dinner-table; had
dined on horse-flesh and turtle with equal relish and
appetite; and had an old mother, Mrs. O'Dowd of
O'Dowdstown indeed, whom he had never disobeyed
but when he ran away and enlisted, and when he persisted
in marrying that odious Peggy Malony.
Peggy was one of five sisters, and eleven children of the
noble house of Glenmalony; but her husband, though her
own cousin, was of the mother's side, and so had not the
inestimable advantage of being allied to the Malonys,
whom she believed to be the most famous family in the
world. Having tried nine seasons at Dublin and two at
Bath and Cheltenham, and not finding a partner for life,
Miss Malony ordered her cousin Mick to marry her when
she was about thirty-three years of age; and the honest
fellow obeying, carried her off to the West Indies, to
preside over the ladies of the --th regiment, into which he
had just exchanged.
Before Mrs. O'Dowd was half an hour in Amelia's (or
indeed in anybody else's) company, this amiable lady told
all her birth and pedigree to her new friend. "My dear,"
said she, good-naturedly, "it was my intention that Garge
should be a brother of my own, and my sister Glorvina
would have suited him entirely. But as bygones are
bygones, and he was engaged to yourself, why, I'm
determined to take you as a sister instead, and to look upon
you as such, and to love you as one of the family. Faith,
you've got such a nice good-natured face and way widg
you, that I'm sure we'll agree; and that you'll be an
addition to our family anyway."
"'Deed and she will," said O'Dowd, with an approving
air, and Amelia felt herself not a little amused and
grateful to be thus suddenly introduced to so large a
party of relations.
"We're all good fellows here," the Major's lady continued.
"There's not a regiment in the service where you'll
find a more united society nor a more agreeable mess-
room. There's no quarrelling, bickering, slandthering, nor
small talk amongst us. We all love each other."
"Especially Mrs. Magenis," said George, laughing.
"Mrs. Captain Magenis and me has made up, though
her treatment of me would bring me gray hairs with
sorrow to the grave."
"And you with such a beautiful front of black, Peggy,
my dear," the Major cried.
"Hould your tongue, Mick, you booby. Them husbands
are always in the way, Mrs. Osborne, my dear; and as
for my Mick, I often tell him he should never open his
mouth but to give the word of command, or to put meat
and drink into it. I'll tell you about the regiment, and
warn you when we're alone. Introduce me to your brother
now; sure he's a mighty fine man, and reminds me of me
cousin, Dan Malony (Malony of Ballymalony, my dear,
you know who mar'ied Ophalia Scully, of Oystherstown,
own cousin to Lord Poldoody). Mr. Sedley, sir, I'm
deloighted to be made known te ye. I suppose you'll dine
at the mess to-day. (Mind that divvle of a docther, Mick,
and whatever ye du, keep yourself sober for me party
this evening.)"
"It's the 150th gives us a farewell dinner, my love,"
interposed the Major, "but we'll easy get a card for Mr.
Sedley."
"Run Simple (Ensign Simple, of Ours, my dear Amelia.
I forgot to introjuice him to ye). Run in a hurry, with
Mrs. Major O'Dowd's compliments to Colonel Tavish,
and Captain Osborne has brought his brothernlaw down,
and will bring him to the 150th mess at five o'clock sharp
--when you and I, my dear, will take a snack here, if you
like." Before Mrs. O'Dowd's speech was concluded, the
young Ensign was trotting downstairs on his commission.
"Obedience is the soul of the army. We will go to our
duty while Mrs. O'Dowd will stay and enlighten you,
Emmy," Captain Osborne said; and the two gentlemen,
taking each a wing of the Major, walked out with that
officer, grinning at each other over his head.
And, now having her new friend to herself, the impetuous
Mrs: O'Dowd proceeded to pour out such a
quantity of information as no poor little woman's memory
could ever tax itself to bear. She told Amelia a thousand
particulars relative to the very numerous family of which
the amazed young lady found herself a member. "Mrs.
Heavytop, the Colonel's wife, died in Jamaica of the
yellow faver and a broken heart comboined, for the horrud
old Colonel, with a head as bald as a cannon-ball, was
making sheep's eyes at a half-caste girl there. Mrs.
Magenis, though without education, was a good woman,
but she had the divvle's tongue, and would cheat her own
mother at whist. Mrs. Captain Kirk must turn up her
lobster eyes forsooth at the idea of an honest round game
(wherein me fawther, as pious a man as ever went to
church, me uncle Dane Malony, and our cousin the
Bishop, took a hand at loo, or whist, every night of their
lives). Nayther of 'em's goin' with the regiment this time,"
Mrs. O'Dowd added. "Fanny Magenis stops with her
mother, who sells small coal and potatoes, most likely,
in Islington-town, hard by London, though she's always
bragging of her father's ships, and pointing them out to us
as they go up the river: and Mrs. Kirk and her children
will stop here in Bethesda Place, to be nigh to her favourite
preacher, Dr. Ramshorn. Mrs. Bunny's in an interesting
situation--faith, and she always is, then--and has
given the Lieutenant seven already. And Ensign Posky's
wife, who joined two months before you, my dear, has
quarl'd with Tom Posky a score of times, till you can
hear'm all over the bar'ck (they say they're come to
broken pleets, and Tom never accounted for his black oi),
and she'll go back to her mother, who keeps a ladies'
siminary at Richmond--bad luck to her for running away
from it! Where did ye get your finishing, my dear? I had
moin, and no expince spared, at Madame Flanahan's, at
Ilyssus Grove, Booterstown, near Dublin, wid a Marchioness
to teach us the true Parisian pronunciation, and a retired
Mejor-General of the French service to put us
through the exercise."
Of this incongruous family our astonished Amelia found
herself all of a sudden a member: with Mrs. O'Dowd as
an elder sister. She was presented to her other female
relations at tea-time, on whom, as she was quiet, good-
natured, and not too handsome, she made rather an
agreeable impression until the arrival of the gentlemen from
the mess of the 150th, who all admired her so, that her
sisters began, of course, to find fault with her.
"I hope Osborne has sown his wild oats," said Mrs.
Magenis to Mrs. Bunny. "If a reformed rake makes a
good husband, sure it's she will have the fine chance with
Garge," Mrs. O'Dowd remarked to Posky, who had lost
her position as bride in the regiment, and was quite angry
with the usurper. And as for Mrs. Kirk: that disciple of
Dr. Ramshorn put one or two leading professional
questions to Amelia, to see whether she was awakened,
whether she was a professing Christian and so forth, and
finding from the simplicity of Mrs. Osborne's replies that
she was yet in utter darkness, put into her hands three
little penny books with pictures, viz., the "Howling
Wilderness," the "Washerwoman of Wandsworth Common,"
and the "British Soldier's best Bayonet," which, bent upon
awakening her before she slept, Mrs. Kirk begged Amelia
to read that night ere she went to bed.
But all the men, like good fellows as they were, rallied
round their comrade's pretty wife, and paid her their
court with soldierly gallantry. She had a little triumph,
which flushed her spirits and made her eyes sparkle.
George was proud of her popularity, and pleased with the
manner (which was very gay and graceful, though naive
and a little timid) with which she received the gentlemen's attentions, and answered their compliments. And
he in his uniform--how much handsomer he was than
any man in the room! She felt that he was affectionately
watching her, and glowed with pleasure at his kindness. "I
will make all his friends welcome," she resolved in her
heart. "I will love all as I love him. I will always try and
be gay and good-humoured and make his home happy."
The regiment indeed adopted her with acclamation.
The Captains approved, the Lieutenants applauded, the
Ensigns admired. Old Cutler, the Doctor, made one or
two jokes, which, being professional, need not be repeated;
and Cackle, the Assistant M.D. of Edinburgh, condescended
to examine her upon leeterature, and tried her
with his three best French quotations. Young Stubble went
about from man to man whispering, "Jove, isn't she a
pretty gal?" and never took his eyes off her except when
the negus came in.
As for Captain Dobbin, he never so much as spoke to
her during the whole evening. But he and Captain Porter
of the l50th took home Jos to the hotel, who was in a
very maudlin state, and had told his tiger-hunt story with
great effect, both at the mess-table and at the soiree, to
Mrs. O'Dowd in her turban and bird of paradise. Having
put the Collector into the hands of his servant, Dobbin
loitered about, smoking his cigar before the inn door.
George had meanwhile very carefully shawled his wife,
and brought her away from Mrs. O'Dowd's after a general
handshaking from the young officers, who accompanied
her to the fly, and cheered that vehicle as it drove off. So
Amelia gave Dobbin her little hand as she got out of the
carriage, and rebuked him smilingly for not having taken
any notice of her all night.
The Captain continued that deleterious amusement of
smoking, long after the inn and the street were gone to
bed. He watched the lights vanish from George's sitting-
room windows, and shine out in the bedroom close at
hand. It was almost morning when he returned to his own
quarters. He could hear the cheering from the ships in
the river, where the transports were already taking in
their cargoes preparatory to dropping down the Thames.
CHAPTER XVIII
In Which Amelia Invades the Low Countries
The regiment with its officers was to be transported in
ships provided by His Majesty's government for the
occasion: and in two days after the festive assembly at Mrs.
O'Dowd's apartments, in the midst of cheering from all
the East India ships in the river, and the military on shore,
the band playing "God Save the King," the officers waving
their hats, and the crews hurrahing gallantly, the transports
went down the river and proceeded under convoy to
Ostend. Meanwhile the gallant Jos had agreed to escort
his sister and the Major's wife, the bulk of whose goods
and chattels, including the famous bird of paradise and
turban, were with the regimental baggage: so that our
two heroines drove pretty much unencumbered to
Ramsgate, where there were plenty of packets plying, in
one of which they had a speedy passage to Ostend.
That period of Jos's life which now ensued was so full
of incident, that it served him for conversation for
many years after, and even the tiger-hunt story was put
aside for more stirring narratives which he had to tell
about the great campaign of Waterloo. As soon as he
had agreed to escort his sister abroad, it was remarked
that he ceased shaving his upper lip. At Chatham he
followed the parades and drills with great assiduity. He
listened with the utmost attention to the conversation of
his brother officers (as he called them in after days
sometimes), and learned as many military names as he could.
In these studies the excellent Mrs. O'Dowd was of great
assistance to him; and on the day finally when they
embarked on board the Lovely Rose, which was to carry
them to their destination, he made his appearance in a
braided frock-coat and duck trousers, with a foraging
cap ornamented with a smart gold band. Having his
carriage with him, and informing everybody on board
confidentially that he was going to join the Duke of
Wellington's army, folks mistook him for a great personage, a
commissary-general, or a government courier at the very
least.
He suffered hugely on the voyage, during which the
ladies were likewise prostrate; but Amelia was brought to
life again as the packet made Ostend, by the sight of
the transports conveying her regiment, which entered the
harbour almost at the same time with the Lovely Rose.
Jos went in a collapsed state to an inn, while Captain
Dobbin escorted the ladies, and then busied himself in
freeing Jos's carriage and luggage from the ship and the
custom-house, for Mr. Jos was at present without a
servant, Osborne's man and his own pampered menial
having conspired together at Chatham, and refused point-
blank to cross the water. This revolt, which came very
suddenly, and on the last day, so alarmed Mr. Sedley,
junior, that he was on the point of giving up the expedition,
but Captain Dobbin (who made himself immensely
officious in the business, Jos said), rated him and
laughed at him soundly: the mustachios were grown in
advance, and Jos finally was persuaded to embark. In
place of the well-bred and well-fed London domestics,
who could only speak English, Dobbin procured for Jos's
party a swarthy little Belgian servant who could speak
no language at all; but who, by his bustling behaviour,
and by invariably addressing Mr. Sedley as "My lord,"
speedily acquired that gentleman's favour. Times are
altered at Ostend now; of the Britons who go thither,
very few look like lords, or act like those members of
our hereditary aristocracy. They seem for the most part
shabby in attire, dingy of linen, lovers of billiards and
brandy, and cigars and greasy ordinaries.
But it may be said as a rule, that every Englishman
in the Duke of Wellington's army paid his way. The
remembrance of such a fact surely becomes a nation of
shopkeepers. It was a blessing for a commerce-loving
country to be overrun by such an army of customers:
and to have such creditable warriors to feed. And the
country which they came to protect is not military. For
a long period of history they have let other people fight
there. When the present writer went to survey with eagle
glance the field of Waterloo, we asked the conductor of
the diligence, a portly warlike-looking veteran, whether
he had been at the battle. "Pas si bete"--such an
answer and sentiment as no Frenchman would own to--
was his reply. But, on the other hand, the postilion
who drove us was a Viscount, a son of some bankrupt
Imperial General, who accepted a pennyworth of beer
on the road. The moral is surely a good one.
This flat, flourishing, easy country never could have
looked more rich and prosperous than in that opening
summer of 1815, when its green fields and quiet cities
were enlivened by multiplied red-coats: when its wide
chaussees swarmed with brilliant English equipages:
when its great canal-boats, gliding by rich pastures and
pleasant quaint old villages, by old chateaux lying
amongst old trees, were all crowded with well-to-do English travellers: when the soldier who drank at the village
inn, not only drank, but paid his score; and Donald,
the Highlander, billeted in the Flemish farm-house,
rocked the baby's cradle, while Jean and Jeannette were
out getting in the hay. As our painters are bent on military
subjects just now, I throw out this as a good subject
for the pencil, to illustrate the principle of an honest
English war. All looked as brilliant and harmless as a
Hyde Park review. Meanwhile, Napoleon screened behind
his curtain of frontier-fortresses, was preparing for
the outbreak which was to drive all these orderly people
into fury and blood; and lay so many of them low.
Everybody had such a perfect feeling of confidence
in the leader (for the resolute faith which the Duke of
Wellington had inspired in the whole English nation was
as intense as that more frantic enthusiasm with which
at one time the French regarded Napoleon), the country
seemed in so perfect a state of orderly defence, and the
help at hand in case of need so near and overwhelming,
that alarm was unknown, and our travellers, among
whom two were naturally of a very timid sort, were,
like all the other multiplied English tourists, entirely at
ease. The famous regiment, with so many of whose
officers we have made acquaintance, was drafted in canal
boats to Bruges and Ghent, thence to march to Brussels.
Jos accompanied the ladies in the public boats; the which
all old travellers in Flanders must remember for the
luxury and accommodation they afforded. So prodigiously
good was the eating and drinking on board these
sluggish but most comfortable vessels, that there are legends
extant of an English traveller, who, coming to Belgium
for a week, and travelling in one of these boats, was so
delighted with the fare there that he went backwards
and forwards from Ghent to Bruges perpetually until the
railroads were invented, when he drowned himself on the
last trip of the passage-boat. Jos's death was not to be
of this sort, but his comfort was exceeding, and Mrs.
O'Dowd insisted that he only wanted her sister Glorvina
to make his happiness complete. He sate on the roof
of the cabin all day drinking Flemish beer, shouting for
Isidor, his servant, and talking gallantly to the ladies.
His courage was prodigious. "Boney attack us!" he
cried. "My dear creature, my poor Emmy, don't be
frightened. There's no danger. The allies will be in Paris
in two months, I tell you; when I'll take you to dine
in the Palais Royal, by Jove! There are three hundred
thousand Rooshians, I tell you, now entering France by
Mayence and the Rhine--three hundred thousand under
Wittgenstein and Barclay de Tolly, my poor love. You
don't know military affairs, my dear. I do, and I tell
you there's no infantry in France can stand against
Rooshian infantry, and no general of Boney's that's fit
to hold a candle to Wittgenstein. Then there are the
Austrians, they are five hundred thousand if a man, and
they are within ten marches of the frontier by this time,
under Schwartzenberg and Prince Charles. Then there are
the Prooshians under the gallant Prince Marshal. Show
me a cavalry chief like him now that Murat is gone.
Hey, Mrs. O'Dowd? Do you think our little girl here
need be afraid? Is there any cause for fear, Isidor? Hey,
sir? Get some more beer."
Mrs. O'Dowd said that her "Glorvina was not afraid
of any man alive, let alone a Frenchman," and tossed
off a glass of beer with a wink which expressed her
liking for the beverage.
Having frequently been in presence of the enemy, or,
in other words, faced the ladies at Cheltenham and Bath,
our friend, the Collector, had lost a great deal of his
pristine timidity, and was now, especially when fortified
with liquor, as talkative as might be. He was rather a
favourite with the regiment, treating the young officers
with sumptuosity, and amusing them by his military airs.
And as there is one well-known regiment of the army
which travels with a goat heading the column, whilst
another is led by a deer, George said with respect to his
brother-in-law, that his regiment marched with an
elephant.
Since Amelia's introduction to the regiment, George
began to be rather ashamed of some of the company to
which he had been forced to present her; and determined,
as he told Dobbin (with what satisfaction to the latter
it need not be said), to exchange into some better regiment
soon, and to get his wife away from those damned
vulgar women. But this vulgarity of being ashamed of
one's society is much more common among men than
women (except very great ladies of fashion, who, to be
sure, indulge in it); and Mrs. Amelia, a natural and
unaffected person, had none of that artificial shamefacedness
which her husband mistook for delicacy on his own
part. Thus Mrs. O'Dowd had a cock's plume in her hat,
and a very large "repayther" on her stomach, which she
used to ring on all occasions, narrating how it had been
presented to her by her fawther, as she stipt into the
car'ge after her mar'ge; and these ornaments, with other
outward peculiarities of the Major's wife, gave excruciating
agonies to Captain Osborne, when his wife and the
Major's came in contact; whereas Amelia was only
amused by the honest lady's eccentricities, and not in
the least ashamed of her company.
As they made that well-known journey, which almost
every Englishman of middle rank has travelled since,
there might have been more instructive, but few more
entertaining, companions than Mrs. Major O'Dowd. "Talk
about kenal boats; my dear! Ye should see the kenal
boats between Dublin and Ballinasloe. It's there the rapid
travelling is; and the beautiful cattle. Sure me fawther
got a goold medal (and his Excellency himself eat a slice
of it, and said never was finer mate in his loif) for a
four-year-old heifer, the like of which ye never saw in
this country any day." And Jos owned with a sigh, "that
for good streaky beef, really mingled with fat and lean,
there was no country like England."
"Except Ireland, where all your best mate comes from,"
said the Major's lady; proceeding, as is not unusual with
patriots of her nation, to make comparisons greatly in
favour of her own country. The idea of comparing the
market at Bruges with those of Dublin, although she had
suggested it herself, caused immense scorn and derision
on her part. "I'll thank ye tell me what they mean by
that old gazabo on the top of the market-place," said
she, in a burst of ridicule fit to have brought the old
tower down. The place was full of English soldiery as
they passed. English bugles woke them in the morning;
at nightfall they went to bed to the note of the British
fife and drum: all the country and Europe was in arms,
and the greatest event of history pending: and honest
Peggy O'Dowd, whom it concerned as well as another,
went on prattling about Ballinafad, and the horses in the
stables at Glenmalony, and the clar't drunk there; and
Jos Sedley interposed about curry and rice at Dumdum;
and Amelia thought about her husband, and how best
she should show her love for him; as if these were
the great topics of the world.
Those who like to lay down the History-book, and to
speculate upon what MIGHT have happened in the world,
but for the fatal occurrence of what actually did take
place (a most puzzling, amusing, ingenious, and profitable
kind of meditation), have no doubt often thought to
themselves what a specially bad time Napoleon took to
come back from Elba, and to let loose his eagle from
Gulf San Juan to Notre Dame. The historians on our
side tell us that the armies of the allied powers were
all providentially on a war-footing, and ready to bear
down at a moment's notice upon the Elban Emperor.
The august jobbers assembled at Vienna, and carving
out the kingdoms of Europe according to their wisdom,
had such causes of quarrel among themselves as might
have set the armies which had overcome Napoleon to
fight against each other, but for the return of the object
of unanimous hatred and fear. This monarch had an army
in full force because he had jobbed to himself Poland,
and was determined to keep it: another had robbed half
Saxony, and was bent upon maintaining his acquisition:
Italy was the object of a third's solicitude. Each was
protesting against the rapacity of the other; and could the
Corsican but have waited in prison until all these parties
were by the ears, he might have returned and reigned
unmolested. But what would have become of our story
and all our friends, then? If all the drops in it were dried
up, what would become of the sea?
In the meanwhile the business of life and living, and
the pursuits of pleasure, especially, went on as if no end
were to be expected to them, and no enemy in front.
When our travellers arrived at Brussels, in which their
regiment was quartered, a great piece of good fortune,
as all said, they found themselves in one of the gayest
and most brilliant little capitals in Europe, and where
all the Vanity Fair booths were laid out with the most
tempting liveliness and splendour. Gambling was here in
profusion, and dancing in plenty: feasting was there to
fill with delight that great gourmand of a Jos: there
was a theatre where a miraculous Catalani was delighting
all hearers: beautiful rides, all enlivened with martial
splendour; a rare old city, with strange costumes and
wonderful architecture, to delight the eyes of little Amelia,
who had never before seen a foreign country, and fill
her with charming surprises: so that now and for a few
weeks' space in a fine handsome lodging, whereof the
expenses were borne by Jos and Osborne, who was flush
of money and full of kind attentions to his wife--for
about a fortnight, I say, during which her honeymoon
ended, Mrs. Amelia was as pleased and happy as any
little bride out of England.
Every day during this happy time there was novelty
and amusement for all parties. There was a church to
see, or a picture-gallery--there was a ride, or an opera.
The bands of the regiments were making music at all
hours. The greatest folks of England walked in the Park
--there was a perpetual military festival. George, taking
out his wife to a new jaunt or junket every night, was
quite pleased with himself as usual, and swore he was
becoming quite a domestic character. And a jaunt or
a junket with HIM! Was it not enough to set this little
heart beating with joy? Her letters home to her mother
were filled with delight and gratitude at this season. Her
husband bade her buy laces, millinery, jewels, and
gimcracks of all sorts. Oh, he was the kindest, best, and
most generous of men!
The sight of the very great company of lords and ladies
and fashionable persons who thronged the town, and
appeared in every public place, filled George's truly British
soul with intense delight. They flung off that happy
frigidity and insolence of demeanour which occasionally
characterises the great at home, and appearing in
numberless public places, condescended to mingle with the
rest of the company whom they met there. One night
at a party given by the general of the division to which
George's regiment belonged, he had the honour of dancing
with Lady Blanche Thistlewood, Lord Bareacres'
daughter; he bustled for ices and refreshments for the
two noble ladies; he pushed and squeezed for Lady
Bareacres' carriage; he bragged about the Countess when
he got home, in a way which his own father could not
have surpassed. He called upon the ladies the next day;
he rode by their side in the Park; he asked their party
to a great dinner at a restaurateur's, and was quite
wild with exultation when they agreed to come. Old
Bareacres, who had not much pride and a large appetite,
would go for a dinner anywhere.
"I.hope there will be no women besides our own
party," Lady Bareacres said, after reflecting upon the
invitation which had been made, and accepted with too
much precipitancy.
"Gracious Heaven, Mamma--you don't suppose the
man would bring his wife," shrieked Lady Blanche, who
had been languishing in George's arms in the newly
imported waltz for hours the night before. "The men are
bearable, but their women--"
"Wife, just married, dev'lish pretty woman, I hear,"
the old Earl said.
"Well, my dear Blanche," said the mother, "I suppose,
as Papa wants to go, we must go; but we needn't know
them in England, you know." And so, determined to cut
their new acquaintance in Bond Street, these great folks
went to eat his dinner at Brussels, and condescending to
make him pay for their pleasure, showed their dignity
by making his wife uncomfortable, and carefully excluding
her from the conversation. This is a species of dignity
in which the high-bred British female reigns supreme. To
watch the behaviour of a fine lady to other and humbler
women, is a very good sport for a philosophical frequenter
of Vanity Fair.
This festival, on which honest George spent a great
deal of money, was the very dismallest of all the
entertainments which Amelia had in her honeymoon. She
wrote the most piteous accounts of the feast home to
her mamma: how the Countess of Bareacres would not
answer when spoken to; how Lady Blanche stared at her
with her eye-glass; and what a rage Captain Dobbin was
in at their behaviour; and how my lord, as they came
away from the feast, asked to see the bill, and pronounced
it a d-- bad dinner, and d-- dear. But though Amelia
told all these stories, and wrote home regarding
her guests' rudeness, and her own discomfiture,
old Mrs. Sedley was mightily pleased nevertheless,
and talked about Emmy's friend, the Countess of
Bareacres, with such assiduity that the news how his son
was entertaining peers and peeresses actually came to
Osborne's ears in the City.
Those who know the present Lieutenant-General Sir
George Tufto, K.C.B., and have seen him, as they may
on most days in the season, padded and in stays, strutting
down Pall Mall with a rickety swagger on his high-heeled
lacquered boots, leering under the bonnets of passers-
by, or riding a showy chestnut, and ogling broughams in
the Parks--those who know the present Sir George Tufto
would hardly recognise the daring Peninsular and Waterloo
officer. He has thick curling brown hair and black
eyebrows now, and his whiskers are of the deepest
purple. He was light-haired and bald in 1815, and stouter
in the person and in the limbs, which especially have
shrunk very much of late. When he was about seventy
years of age (he is now nearly eighty), his hair, which
was very scarce and quite white, suddenly grew thick,
and brown, and curly, and his whiskers and eyebrows
took their present colour. Ill-natured people say that
his chest is all wool, and that his hair, because it never
grows, is a wig. Tom Tufto, with whose father he quarrelled
ever so many years ago, declares that Mademoiselle
de Jaisey, of the French theatre, pulled his
grandpapa's hair off in the green-room; but Tom is
notoriously spiteful and jealous; and the General's wig has
nothing to do with our story.
One day, as some of our friends of the --th were
sauntering in the flower-market of Brussels, having been
to see the Hotel de Ville, which Mrs. Major O'Dowd
declared was not near so large or handsome as her
fawther's mansion of Glenmalony, an officer of rank, with
an orderly behind him, rode up to the market, and
descending from his horse, came amongst the flowers, and
selected the very finest bouquet which money could buy.
The beautiful bundle being tied up in a paper, the officer
remounted, giving the nosegay into the charge of his
military groom, who carried it with a grin, following his
chief, who rode away in great state and self-satisfaction.
"You should see the flowers at Glenmalony," Mrs.
O'Dowd was remarking. "Me fawther has three Scotch
garners with nine helpers. We have an acre of hot-houses,
and pines as common as pays in the sayson. Our greeps
weighs six pounds every bunch of 'em, and upon me
honour and conscience I think our magnolias is as big
as taykettles."
Dobbin, who never used to "draw out" Mrs. O'Dowd
as that wicked Osborne delighted in doing (much to
Amelia's terror, who implored him to spare her), fell
back in the crowd, crowing and sputtering until he
reached a safe distance, when he exploded amongst the
astonished market-people with shrieks of yelling laughter.
"Hwhat's that gawky guggling about?" said Mrs.
O'Dowd. "Is it his nose bleedn? He always used to say
'twas his nose bleedn, till he must have pomped all the
blood out of 'um. An't the magnolias at Glenmalony
as big as taykettles, O'Dowd?"
"'Deed then they are, and bigger, Peggy," the Major
said. When the conversation was interrupted in the
manner stated by the arrival of the officer who purchased
the bouquet.
"Devlish fine horse--who is it?" George asked.
"You should see me brother Molloy Malony's horse,
Molasses, that won the cop at the Curragh," the Major's
wife was exclaiming, and was continuing the family
history, when her husband interrupted her by saying--
"It's General Tufto, who commands the ---- cavalry
division"; adding quietly, "he and I were both shot in
the same leg at Talavera."
"Where you got your step," said George with a laugh.
"General Tufto! Then, my dear, the Crawleys are come."
Amelia's heart fell--she knew not why. The sun did
not seem to shine so bright. The tall old roofs and
gables looked less picturesque all of a sudden, though
it was a brilliant sunset, and one of the brightest and
most beautiful days at the end of May.
CHAPTER XXIX
Brussels
Mr. Jos had hired a pair of horses for his open carriage,
with which cattle, and the smart London vehicle, he made
a very tolerable figure in the drives about Brussels.
George purchased a horse for his private riding, and
he and Captain Dobbin would often accompany the
carriage in which Jos and his sister took daily excursions
of pleasure. They went out that day in the park for their
accustomed diversion, and there, sure enough, George's
remark with regard to the arrival of Rawdon Crawley and
his wife proved to be correct. In the midst of a little
troop of horsemen, consisting of some of the very greatest
persons in Brussels, Rebecca was seen in the prettiest
and tightest of riding-habits, mounted on a beautiful
little Arab, which she rode to perfection (having acquired
the art at Queen's Crawley, where the Baronet, Mr.
Pitt, and Rawdon himself had given her many lessons),
and by the side of the gallant General Tufto.
"Sure it's the Juke himself," cried Mrs. Major O'Dowd
to Jos, who began to blush violently; "and that's Lord
Uxbridge on the bay. How elegant he looks! Me brother,
Molloy Malony, is as like him as two pays."
Rebecca did not make for the carriage; but as soon
as she perceived her old acquaintance Amelia seated in
it, acknowledged her presence by a gracious nod and
smile, and by kissing and shaking her fingers playfully
in the direction of the vehicle. Then she resumed her
conversation with General Tufto, who asked "who the
fat officer was in the gold-laced cap?" on which Becky
replied, "that he was an officer in the East Indian service."
But Rawdon Crawley rode out of the ranks of his
company, and came up and shook hands heartily with
Amelia, and said to Jos, "Well, old boy, how are you?"
and stared in Mrs. O'Dowd's face and at.the black cock's
feathers until she began to think she had made a
conquest of him.
George, who had been delayed behind, rode up almost
immediately with Dobbin, and they touched their caps to
the august personages, among whom Osborne at once
perceived Mrs. Crawley. He was delighted to see Rawdon
leaning over his carriage familiarly and talking to Amelia,
and met the aide-de-camp's cordial greeting with more
than corresponding warmth. The nods between Rawdon
and Dobbin were of the very faintest specimens of
politeness.
Crawley told George where they were stopping with