ARTISTIC INTOXICATION.
The London architect who was charged with the restoration of Wenderholme
gave advice which could not be followed without a heavy outlay; but in
this respect he was surpassed by Colonel Stanburne's amateur adviser,
Mr. Prigley, whose imagination revelled in the splendors of an ideal
Elizabethan interior, full of carving and tapestry, and all manner of
barbaric magnificence. Where the architect would have been content with
paper, Mr. Prigley insisted upon wainscot; and where the architect
admitted plain panelling, the clergyman would have it carved in fanciful
little arches, or imitations of folded napkins, or shields of arms, or
large medallion portraits of the kings of England, or bas-reliefs of
history or the chase.
Only consider what Mr. Prigley's tastes and circumstances had been, and
what a painful contradiction had ever subsisted between them! He had an
intense passion for art--not for painting or sculpture in their
independent form, for of these he knew little--but Mr. Prigley loved
architecture mainly, and then all the other arts as they could help the
effect of architecture. With these tastes he lived in a degree of
poverty which utterly forbade any practical realization of them, and
surrounded by buildings of which it is enough to say that they
represented the taste of the inhabitants of Shayton. The ugliest towns
in the world are English towns--the ugliest towns in England are in the
manufacturing district--the ugliest town in the manufacturing district
was the one consigned to Mr. Prigley's spiritual care. Here his
artistic tastes dwelt in a state of suppression, like Jack-in-the-box.
Colonel Stanburne had imprudently unfastened the lid; it flew open, and
Jack sprang up with a suddenness and an energy that was positively
startling and alarming.
The fact is, Mr. Prigley lived in a condition of intoxication during the
whole time of his stay at Wenderholme Cottage--an intoxication just as
real as that which he denounced in Seth Schofield and Jerry Smethurst,
and the other patrons of the Red Lion. A man may get tipsy on other
things than ale or brandy; and it may be doubted whether any tipsiness
is more complete, or more enjoyable whilst it lasts, than that which
attends the realization of our ideas and the gratification of our
tastes. And it has been kindly ordained that when we are not rich enough
to realize our ideas for ourselves, we take nearly as much interest in
seeing them realized by somebody else; so that critics who could not
afford to build a laborer's cottage, get impassioned about Prince
Albert's monument or the future Palace of Justice. How much the more,
then, should Mr. Prigley excite himself about Wenderholme, especially
seeing that Colonel Stanburne had done him the honor to consult his
judgment, and expressed the desire to benefit by his extensive
knowledge, his cultivated taste! Was it not a positive duty to interest
himself in the matter, and to give the best advice he could? It was a
duty, and it was a pleasure.
Mr. Prigley had already half decided the Colonel, when a powerful ally
came unexpectedly to his assistance. One morning at breakfast-time, when
the Colonel read his letters, he said to Mrs. Stanburne, "Here's a
letter from an acquaintance of ours who wants to come and stay here,"
and he handed her the following note:--
"MY DEAR COLONEL STANBURNE,--Since I had the pleasure of
seeing you at Wenderholme, I have often thought about what
you are doing there. Having had a good deal of experience
with architects, restorations, &c., it has occurred to me
that I might be of some use. Would you present my
compliments to Mrs. Stanburne, and say that if it
occasioned no inconvenience to her, I should very much like
to spend a few days at Wenderholme Cottage? I would bring
nobody with me except Thompson, my valet; and though our
acquaintance is comparatively a recent one, I presume upon
it so far as to hope that you will not allow my visit to
make any difference--I mean, in asking people to meet me. I
should like, on the contrary, to have you all to myself, so
that we may talk about the restoration of Wenderholme in
detail: it interests me greatly. With kind compliments to
Mrs. Stanburne,
"Yours very truly,
INGLEBOROUGH."
"Well, dear," said Mrs. Stanburne, when she had read the note, "the Duke
must come, of course. I like him very much--he is a very agreeable man.
We needn't make any fuss."
So the Duke came; and as Colonel Stanburne had insisted that Mr. Prigley
should stay to meet him, he and little Jacob prolonged their visit at
the Cottage. "I look upon you, Mr. Prigley, as a necessary shield for my
ignorance. Whenever you see that the Duke is puzzling me, you must
divert the attack by drawing it on yourself. _You're_ a match for
him--you know all the technical terms."
His Grace brought with him a heavy box of books, such as made Mr.
Prigley's mouth water, and several portfolios of original designs for
carvings, which had been executed for an old mansion of his own,
contemporary with Wenderholme. He warmly supported Mr. Prigley's views;
and in the long conversations which the three held together in the
evenings, whilst the Colonel consumed his habitual allowance of tobacco,
the books and portfolios were triumphantly appealed to, and it was
proved in a conclusive manner that this thing ought to be done, and that
this other thing was absolutely indispensable, till poor John Stanburne
hardly knew what to think.
"It is an opportunity," said the Duke--"an opportunity such as, we hope,
may never occur again; and it rests with you, Colonel Stanburne, whether
your noble old mansion is to be restored, in the genuine sense of the
word, so that it may have once again the perfect character of an
Elizabethan house of the best class--or whether it is to be simply
repaired so as to shelter you from the weather, like any other house in
the neighborhood. You will never repent a liberal expenditure at the
right moment. I say, be liberal now; it is an expense which will not
occur twice, either in your lifetime or in that of your descendants for
many generations. What are a few thousand pounds more or less in a
matter of such importance? Make Wenderholme a perfect mansion of its
kind. Restore all the wainscot, and tapestry, and glass; replace all the
carved furniture that must have been there in Queen Elizabeth's time"--
"Thanks to Eureton's good management the night of the fire, all our
furniture is safe."
The Duke made a little gesture of impatience. "Captain Eureton," he
said, "did his duty most creditably on the night of the fire; but as the
fire originated in the garrets, where all the old remnants were
accumulated, the consequence was, that the most precious things in the
house were destroyed, and the less precious were preserved."
"A good deal more useful, though, Duke, if less precious in the eyes of
an antiquary."
"Useful? Yes, that is what makes them so dangerous. People admit
incongruous things into their houses on the wretched pretext of utility.
Do you know, in my opinion, it is a subject of regret that the furniture
was saved that night?"
"You worked very hard yourself in saving it."
"Of course, it was my duty to take my share of the work; but
circumstances will sometimes place us in such a position that duty
compels us to act against what we believe to be the general interest of
mankind. For instance, suppose I were out at sea in my yacht, and that I
met with a boatful of Republicans, such as Mazzini, Garibaldi, Louis
Blanc, and Ledru Rollin, all so hungry that they were just going to eat
each other up, and so thirsty that they were just going to drink salt
water and go raving mad, it would be my duty to pick up the rascals, and
give them food, and land them on some hospitable shore, and I should do
so because to save men from death is an elementary duty; but I should be
rendering a far better service to mankind in letting the fellows eat
each other, instead of assassinating their betters, and go raving mad
out at sea rather than disseminate insane doctrines on the land."
The Colonel could not help laughing at this sally. "Do you mean to
compare my furniture with a set of Republicans?"
"What Radicals and Republicans are in an ancient state, commonplace and
ignoble furniture is in a fine old mansion; and your old remnants in the
lumber-room were like men of refined education and ancient descent, who
have been thrust out of their natural place in society to make room for
vulgar _parvenus_."
"Well, but what on earth would you have me do with my furniture?"
"There are many ways of getting it out of Wenderholme. Why not furnish
some other house with it? Why don't you have a house in London? you
_ought_ to have a house in London. The furniture here is quite
appropriate in a modern house, though it is incongruous in an old one.
Or if you had a modern house anywhere, no matter where, you might
furnish it with that furniture, and then Wenderholme would be free to
receive things suitable for it."
Amongst other books that the Duke had brought with him was
Viollet-le-Duc's valuable and comprehensive "Dictionnaire du Mobilier;"
and the three gentlemen were soon as deep in the study of chairs and
_bahuts_ as they had before been in that of wainscots and stained glass.
Colonel Stanburne was not by nature an enthusiast in matters of this
kind, and would have lived calmly all his life amidst the incongruities
of the Wenderholme of his youth; but nobody knows, until he has been
exposed to infection, whether he may not catch some enthusiasm from
others which never would have originated in himself. From the very
beginning of his stay, Mr. Prigley had begun to indoctrinate John
Stanburne in these matters; and after the arrival of the Duke's richly
illustrated volumes, the pupil's progress had been remarkable for its
rapidity. He now felt thoroughly persuaded that it would be wrong to
miss such a rare opportunity, and that economy at such a moment would be
unworthy of the owner of Wenderholme. He had a large sum of money in the
Funds, entirely under his own control, and he resolved to appropriate a
portion of this to the restoration of the mansion, in accordance with
the advice of the Duke and Mr. Prigley.
One day at lunch, his Grace was lamenting the loss of the old carvings
in the lumber-room, when little Jacob, who dined when his elders
lunched, and was usually a model of good behavior, in that he observed a
Trappistine silence during the repast, rather astonished the company by
saying, "Please, I know where there's plenty of old oak."
The gentlemen took this for one of those remarks, usually so little to
the point, which children are in the habit of making. Mrs. Stanburne
kindly answered by inquiring "whether there was much old oak at Twistle
Farm?"
"Oh no, I don't mean at papa's--I mean here," replied little Jacob, with
great vivacity. John Stanburne said, "There used to be plenty, my boy,
but it was all burnt in the fire."
"I don't mean that; I never saw that. I mean, what I have seen since I
have been here this time,--real old oak, all carved with lions and
tigers--at least, I believe they are lions and tigers--and pigs and
wolves, too, and all sorts of birds and things."
There was not an atom of old oak in Wenderholme Cottage, and there was
not an atom of furniture of any kind in Wenderholme Hall. What could the
child mean? Had he been dreaming?
Everybody's attention was drawn to little Jacob, who, becoming very red
and excited, reiterated his assertion with considerable boldness and
emphasis. When called upon for an explanation, he said that when he had
been playing in the great barn, amongst the hay, he had got into a long
low garret over the pigsties and the hen-houses, and that it was full of
old oak--"quite full of it," he reiterated.
Mrs. Stanburne's face assumed an expression of thought and reflection,
as if she were seeking inwardly for something imperfectly remembered.
"It strikes me," she said, "that when my husband's father modernized the
house, he must have put part of the old things into other lumber-rooms
than those at the top of the house itself. There are places amongst the
out-buildings which have not been opened for many years, and I believe
we should find something there."
The Duke became eager with anticipation. "The merest fragments of the
original furniture would be precious, Mrs. Stanburne. If we only had
some specimens, as data, the rest might be reconstructed in the same
taste. Let us go and look up whatever may remain. This little boy will
be our guide."
Little Jacob, proud and excited, led the way to the great barn. It was
fun to him to make the gentlemen follow him up the ladder, and over the
hay, to a little narrow doorway that was about three feet above the
hay-level. "That's the door," he said, and began to climb up the rough
wall. He pushed it open by using all his force in frequent
shoulder-thrusts, the rusty hinges gradually yielding. The adult
explorers followed, and found themselves in total darkness.
"The old oak isn't here," said little Jacob; "it's a good bit further
on."
The garret they were in served as a lumber-room for disused agricultural
implements, and both the Duke and Mr. Prigley hurt their shins against
those awkward obstacles. At last they came to a blank wall, and then to
what seemed to be a sort of cupboard, so far as they could guess by
touching.
Behind the cupboard was a small space, into which little Jacob
insinuated himself, and afterwards cheerfully sang out, "I'm all right;
here's the place!"
The gentlemen pushed the cupboard back a foot or two, and found the
doorway behind it by which their guide had passed. They were in a long,
low attic, very dimly lighted by a little hole in the wall at its remote
extremity. It was full of obstacles, which the Duke's touch recognized
at once as carved oak.
"We ought to have had lanterns," he said; "how tantalizing it is not to
be able to see!"
"I would rather have a few slates taken off," John Stanburne answered;
"that will make us a fine sky-light. I have a dread of fire."
Little Jacob was sent to fetch two or three men, who in half an hour had
removed slates enough to throw full daylight on the scene--such daylight
as had not penetrated there for many a long year. The old furniture of
Wenderholme, gray, almost white, with age, filled the place from end to
end in one continuous heap.
"But this is all white," said little Jacob, "and old oak ought to be
brown, oughtn't it?"
"A little linseed-oil will restore the color," the Duke replied. Then he
exclaimed, "By Jove! Colonel, we have found a treasure--we have indeed!
Let us get every thing out into the yard, and then we can examine the
things in detail."
The whole of the afternoon was spent in getting the old oak out. The
gentlemen worked with the laborers, the Duke himself as energetically
as any one. His great anxiety was to prevent injury to the carvings,
which were very picturesque and elaborate. When the things were all out
of doors, and the garret finally cleared, it was astonishing what a
display they made. There were six cabinets, of which four had their
entablatures supported by massive griffins or lions, and their panels
inlaid with ebony and satin-wood, or carved with bas-reliefs, which,
though certainly far from accurate in point of design, produced a very
rich effect; whilst even the plainest of the cabinets were interesting
for some curious specimen of turner's work or tracery. Then there were
portions of three or four state beds, with massive deeply panelled
testers and huge columns, constructed with that disdain for mechanical
necessity, and that emphatic preference of the picturesque, which marked
the taste of the Elizabethan age. Thus, a single bed-post would in one
place be scarcely thicker than a man's wrist, and in another thicker
than his body; the weight of the whole being enormously out of
proportion to its strength. There were a number of chairs of various
patterns, but which agreed in uniting weight with fragility, and
stateliness with discomfort. There were also innumerable fragments,
difficult at first sight to classify, but amongst which might be
recognized the legs of tables (constructed on the same principle as the
bed-posts), and pieces that had been detached from chairs, and cabinets,
and beds. In addition to all these things, there were quantities of old
wainscot, some of it carved, or inlaid with various woods.
The men had come to the wainscot at last, for it was reared against the
walls of the garret behind the barricade of furniture. As they were
removing it, there was a crashing of broken glass. A piece of this glass
was brought to the light, and it was found to be stained with the arms
of the Stanburnes (or, a bend cottised sa.), simple old bearings like
those of most ancient untitled houses. On this other fragments were
carefully collected, and they all bore the arms of Stanburne impaled
with those of families with which the Colonel's ancestors had
intermarried. Mr. Prigley, who was rather strong in heraldry, and knew
the genealogy of his wife's family and all its alliances much better
than did John Stanburne himself, recognized the martlets of Tempest, the
red lion of Mallory, the green lion of Sherburne, the black lion of
Stapleton, the chevron and cinquefoils of Falkingham, the golden
lozenges of Plumpton, charged with red scallop-shells, in fess on a
field of azure. "This has been a great heraldic window, commemorating
the alliances of the family!" cried Mr. Prigley, in ecstasy. "It must be
restored, Colonel," said the Duke, "and brought down to the present
time--down to you and Lady Helena."
Soon afterwards another discovery was due to the restless curiosity and
boyish activity of little Jacob. He had found means to open one of the
biggest of the cabinets, and had hauled out what seemed to him an old
piece of carpet folded in many folds. He ran to inform the Duke of his
discovery; but his Grace, eagerly unfolding the supposed piece of
carpet, displayed a rich field of
"Arras green and blue,
Showing a gaudy summer morn,
Where with puffed cheek the belted hunter blew
His wreathéd bugle-horn."
Other pieces of tapestry followed, and the heaviest of the cabinets was
found to be nearly full of them. They consisted almost exclusively of
hunting scenes and pastorals, with landscapes and foliage, which, though
seldom approaching correctness as a representation of nature, must have
produced, nevertheless, a superbly decorative effect when hung in the
halls of Wenderholme.
The Duke had said very little for nearly an hour, except in ordering the
men to arrange the furniture in groups. When this had been accomplished
to his satisfaction, he turned to the Colonel, and made him the
following little speech:--
"Colonel Stanburne, I congratulate you upon a discovery which would be
interesting to any intelligent person, but is so most especially to the
representative of the Stanburnes. Here are specimens of the furniture
used by your ancestors from the reign of Henry VII. to that of James I.
We have here ample data for the complete restoration of Wenderholme,
even in the details of wainscot and tapestry and glass. The minutest
fragments in these heaps are valuable beyond price. It is getting late
now, but to-morrow I will go through every bit of it and ticket every
thing, and when I leave I will send you workmen capable of doing every
thing that ought to be done."
Here little Jacob whispered to Mr. Prigley, "It was I that found it out,
wasn't it, Mr. Prigley?" to which piece of self-assertion his tutor
replied by the repressive monosyllable "Hush!"
But his Grace had overheard both of them, and said, "Indeed we are very
much obliged to you, my little boy--very much obliged indeed. I should
like to make you a little present of some sort for the pleasure you have
afforded me this afternoon. You are going to Eton, I hear. Have you got
a watch?"
Little Jacob pulled out a silver watch, of the old-fashioned kind
popularly known as turnips, from their near approach to the spherical
conformation. The Duke smiled as he looked at it, and asked what time it
was. Little Jacob's watch was two hours late. "But it ticks yet," he
said.
The Duke said no more just then, but when little Jacob was dressed to go
down to dessert, his Grace's valet, Thompson, knocked at the door, and
brought a gold watch with a short chain, wherewith the young gentleman
proudly adorned himself. One of the first things he did was to go to the
Duke and thank him; and he did it so nicely that the nobleman was
pleased to say that when little Jacob went to Eton he might "show his
watch to the fellows, and tell 'em who gave it him."