_The Baron arrives in England--the Colossus of Rhodes comes to
congratulate him--Great rejoicings on the Baron's return, and a
tremendous concert--The Baron's discourse with Fragrantia, and her
opinion of the Tour to the Hebrides._
Having arrived in England once more, the greatest rejoicings were made
for my return; the whole city seemed one general blaze of illumination,
and the Colossus of Rhodes, hearing of my astonishing feats, came on
purpose to England to congratulate me on such unparalleled achievements.
But above all other rejoicings on my return, the musical oratorio and
song of triumph were magnificent in the extreme. Gog and Magog were
ordered to take the maiden tower of Windsor, and make a tambourine or
great drum of it. For this purpose they extended an elephant's hide,
tanned and prepared for the design, across the summit of the tower, from
parapet to parapet, so that in proportion this extended elephant's hide
was to the whole of the castle what the parchment is to a drum, in such
a manner that the whole became one great instrument of war.
To correspond with this, Colossus took Guildhall and Westminster Abbey,
and turning the foundations towards the heavens, so that the roofs of
the edifices were upon the ground, he strung them across with brass
and steel wire from side to side, and thus, when strung, they had the
appearance of most noble dulcimers. He then took the great dome of St.
Paul's, raising it off the earth with as much facility as you would a
decanter of claret. And when once risen up it had the appearance of
a quart bottle. Colossus instantly, with his teeth, cracked off
the superior part of the cupola, and then applying his lips to the
instrument, began to sound it like a trumpet. 'Twas martial beyond
description--_tantara!_--_tara!_--_ta!_
During the concert I walked in the park with Lady Fragrantia: she was
dressed that morning in a _chemise à la reine_. "I like," said she, "the
dew of the morning, 'tis delicate and ethereal, and, by thus bespangling
me, I think it will more approximate me to the nature of the rose [for
her looks were like Aurora]; and to confirm the vermilion I shall go to
Spa." "And drink the Podhon spring?" added I, gazing at her from top to
toe. "Yes," replied the lovely Fragrantia, "with all my heart; 'tis the
drink of sweetness and delicacy. Never were there any creatures like
the water-drinkers at spa; they seem like so many thirsty blossoms on
a peach-tree, that suck up the shower in the scorching heat. There is
a certain something in the waters that gives vigour to the whole frame,
and expands every heart with rapture and benevolence. They drink! good
gods! how they do drink! and then, how they sleep! Pray, my dear Baron,
were you ever at the falls of Niagara?" "Yes, my lady," replied I,
surprised at such a strange association of ideas; "I have been, many
years ago, at the Falls of Niagara, and found no more difficulty in
swimming up and down the cataracts than I should to move a minuet." At
that moment she dropped her nosegay. "Ah," said she, as I presented it
to her, "there is no great variety in these polyanthuses. I do assure
you, my dear Baron, that there is taste in the selection of flowers as
well as everything else, and were I a girl of sixteen I should wear some
rosebuds in my bosom, but at five-and-twenty I think it would be more
_apropos_ to wear a full-blown rose, quite ripe, and ready to drop off
the stalk for want of being pulled--heigh-ho!" "But pray, my lady," said
I, "how do you like the concert?" "Alas!" said she, languishingly, while
she laid her hand upon my shoulder, "what are these bodiless sounds and
vibration to me? and yet what an exquisite sweetness in the songs of the
northern part of our island:--'_Thou art gone awa' from me, Mary!_' How
pathetic and divine the little airs of Scotland and the Hebrides! But
never, never can I think of that same Doctor Johnson--that CONSTABLE,
as Fergus MacLeod calls him--but I have an idea of a great brown
full-bottomed wig and a hogshead of porter! Oh, 'twas base! to be
treated everywhere with politeness and hospitality, and in return
invidiously to smellfungus them all over; to go to the country of Kate
of Aberdeen, of Auld Robin Gray, 'midst rural innocence and sweetness,
take up their plaids, and dance. Oh! Doctor, Doctor!"
"And what would you say, Fragrantia, if you were to write a tour to
the Hebrides?" "Peace to the heroes," replied she, in a delicate and
theatrical tone; "peace to the heroes who sleep in the isle of Iona; the
sons of the wave, and the chiefs of the dark-brown shield! The tear of
the sympathising stranger is scattered by the wind over the hoary stones
as she meditates sorrowfully on the times of old! Such could I say,
sitting upon some druidical heap or tumulus. The fact is this, there is
a right and wrong handle to everything, and there is more pleasure in
thinking with pure nobility of heart than with the illiberal enmities
and sarcasm of a blackguard."