you do in England," Ruth remarked, feeling it was incumbent upon her
to open the conversation.
"Yes, Miss Newville, very different; for instance, in London, and in
almost all our towns, the houses are mostly brick, with tiles or
thatch; but here, they are built of wood, covered with shingles. Your
churches are meetinghouses. Queer name." Lord Upperton laughed.
"Ha, ha! I had a funny experience the other day. I told the landlord
of the Admiral Vernon I would like a chair for myself, and another for
Mr. Dapper,--that we wanted to see the town. Well, what do you think
happened? A little later, in came two niggers, each bringing a big
rocking-chair. 'Dese be de cheers you axed for, Massa,' they said."
Miss Newville laughed heartily.
"The landlord evidently did not know you meant sedan-chairs; we do not
have them here," she said.
"More than that, I told him I should want some links for the evening,
as I was to be out late. He said I could get 'em in Faneuil Hall
Market, if it was sausages I wanted."
Again Miss Newville gave way to laughter.
"I do not suppose," she said, "that the landlord ever had heard that
a link-boy is a torch-bearer."
"I had the pleasure of attending services at your church last Sunday,"
said Lord Upperton to the rector, when they were seated at the table.
"I noticed that you have a substantial stone edifice."
"Yes, my lord, and we regard it with what, I trust, is reverential
pride. The Church of God is enduring, and the church's edifice should
be firm and solid, and of material that the tooth of time will not
gnaw," the rector answered.
"Ought it not to be beautiful as well?" Miss Newville inquired.
"Most certainly."
"I cannot say I think King's Chapel is beautiful in the architecture,
with its stump of a tower, and no steeple or spire," Miss Newville
replied.
"Perhaps by and by we shall have money enough to carry out the plan of
the architect. I admit it is not as attractive as it might be," said
the rector.
"I never look at the lower tier of windows without laughing over the
wit of Reverend Mr. Byles[44] in regard to them," said Mr. Adams.
[Footnote 44: Rev. Matthew Byles, the first pastor of Hollis Street
Church, was born in Boston, 1706, descended from Reverend John Cotton,
the first minister, and Richard Mather. He was minister of the parish
more than forty years. He was a celebrated wit and punster. He
maintained his allegiance to the king, and remained in Boston after
the departure of the British. He died in 1788. His clock is preserved
in the old State House, by the Bostonian Society.]
"What might it be?" the rector asked.
"He said he had heard of the canons of the church, but never before
had he seen the portholes."
The company laughed.
"Excellent! Excellent!" exclaimed Mr. Dapper.
"The reverend gentleman, Mr. Byles, though dissenting from our
Apostolic Church, I am happy to say is loyal to our most gracious King
George," said the rector.
"Reverend Mr. Byles is very witty," Miss Newville remarked. "He asked
the selectmen several times to give their attention to a quagmire in
the road near his house. After long delay, they stepped into a chaise
and rode to the spot. Suddenly they found themselves stuck in the mud.
Mr. Byles opened his window and remarked that he was glad they were
stirring in the matter at last."
Again the company laughed.
"Capital; he must be a genius," said Mr. Dapper.
Pompey served the oysters, large, fat, and juicy.
"Pardon me, madam, but may I inquire what these may be?" Mr. Dapper
inquired.
"They are oysters. I think you will find them quite palatable," Mrs.
Newville replied.
Mr. Dapper put his glasses to his eyes, tilted an oyster on his fork,
and examined it.
"Do you mean to say that you swallow these monsters?"
"We think them fine eating," Mrs. Adams replied.
"My lord," said Mr. Dapper, turning to Upperton, "I'm going to try
one. I've made my last will and testament. Tell 'em at Almack's, when
you get home, that Dapper committed suicide by attempting to swallow
an oyster."
"I will send Pompey for the coroner," exclaimed Mr. Newville,
laughing.
"'Pon my soul, madam, they are delicious. Bless me! It is worth
crossing the Atlantic to eat one. Try one, my lord, and then you can
torment the Macaronies[45] by telling them they don't know anything
about fine eating," said Dapper, after gulping it down.
[Footnote 45: The derisive term "Macaronies" was applied to ladies and
gentlemen who had visited Italy, and who upon returning to England
aped foreign customs in the matter of dress.]
Lord Upperton ate one, smacked his lips, and testified his enjoyment
by clearing his plate.
"I dare say, my lord, that you find many amusing things here in the
Colonies," remarked Mrs. Adams.
"Indeed I do. Yesterday, as I was smoking my pipe in the tap-room of
the Admiral Vernon, a countryman stepped up to me, and said, 'Mister,
may I ax for a little pig-tail?' I told him I didn't keep little pigs
and hadn't any tails. I presumed he would find plenty of 'em in the
market."
Lord Upperton was at a loss to know the meaning of the shout of
laughter given by the company.
"The bumpkin replied if I hadn't any pig-tail, a bit of plug would do
just as well for a chaw."
Again the laughter.
"I expect I must have made a big bull, but, 'pon my soul, I can't make
out where the fun comes in."
"He was asking you first for pig-tail tobacco for his pipe, and then
for a bit of plug tobacco for chewing," Mrs. Adams explained.
"Oh ho! then that is it! What a stupid donkey I was," responded Lord
Upperton, laughing heartily. "He wasn't at all bashful," he continued,
"but was well behaved; asked me where I was from. I told him I was
from London. 'Sho! is that so? Haow's King George and his wife?' he
asked. I told him they were well. 'When you go hum,' said he, 'jes
give 'em the 'spec's of Peter Bushwick, and tell George that Yankee
Doodle ain't goin' to pay no tax on tea.'" Lord Upperton laughed
heartily. "I rather like Peter Bushwick," he said. "I'd give a
two-pound note to have him at Almack's for an evening. He'd set the
table in a roar."
"My lord, shall I give you some cranberries?" Miss Newville asked, as
she dished the sauce.
"Cranberries! What are they? I am ashamed to let you know how ignorant
I am, but really I never heard of 'em before. Do they grow on trees?"
She explained that they were an uncultivated fruit, growing on vines
in swamps and lowlands.
"'Pon my soul, they are delicious. And what a rich color. Indeed, you
do have things good to eat," he added, smacking his lips.
"I trust you will relish a bit of wild turkey," said Mr. Newville, as
he carved the fowl.
"Wild turkey, did you say?"
"Yes, my lord. They are plentiful in the forests."
Again Lord Upperton smacked his lips.
"By Jove, Dapper, it is superb!" he exclaimed.
"Will you try some succotash, my lord?" Ruth inquired.
"There you have me again. What a name!"
"It is an Indian name, my lord," said Mrs. Adams.
"Oh ho! Indian. They told me I should find the people lived like the
savages. Succotash! what is it?"
"Succotash, my lord, is a mixture of beans and Indian corn."
"Beans! beans! Do you eat beans over here?" his lordship asked.
"We do, my lord," Mrs. Adams replied, "and we think them very
nutritious and palatable, notwithstanding the maxim, '_Abstincto a
fabis_.' Possibly you may be a disciple of Pythagoras, and believe
that the souls of the dead are encased in beans, and so think it
almost sacrilegious for us to use them as food."
Lord Upperton looked up in astonishment. Was it possible that ladies
in the Colonies were acquainted with the classics?
"In England we feed our sheep on beans," his lordship replied; "and
may I ask what is Indian corn?"
"Possibly you may call it maize in England. When our fathers came to
this country they found the Indians used it for food, and so ever
since it has been known as Indian corn."
"Beans for sheep; corn for savages. Pardon me, madam, but I am not a
sheep, nor yet quite a savage with a tomahawk. Thank you, but I don't
care for any succotash."
"Better take some, Upperton. It is positively delicious," said Mr.
Dapper, after swallowing a spoonful.
Lord Upperton poked the mixture with his spoon and then tasted it.
"It isn't so very nasty," he said, and took a second spoonful. "By
Jove, it isn't bad at all. Bless me, the more I eat the better I like
it."
His plate was quickly cleaned.
"Pardon me, Miss Newville, but the succotash is so superb that I dare
violate good manners, which I am sure you will overlook, and pass my
plate for more."
"You see, my lord, what you have gained by trying it. If you had not
tasted it, you would have gone back to England and told the nabobs
that the people in the Colonies eat just such nasty things as the
sheep-men feed to their flocks; but now you can torment them by
describing the dainty delicacies of the Colonies."
"By Jove! That's a capital idea, Dapper. It will make the Macaronies
mad as March hares."
"Please fill your glasses, ladies and gentlemen, and we will drink the
health of our most gracious sovereign,"[46] said Mr. Newville.
[Footnote 46: George III. was grandson of George II., and son of
Frederick, Prince of Wales, whose death made his son heir to the
throne. The mother of George III. had plans of her own, and was aided
by the Earl of Bute. There were political parties in church and state;
scheming bishops and intriguing politicians, each striving for his own
advancement, or the advancement of his party. George III. during his
early years had frequent changes of governors and tutors, several of
whom were intense Jacobites, holding reactionary opinions. Being dull
of intellect, his education tended to make him a bigot.]
The glasses were filled, and the health of the king drunk.
"Our king is a right royal sovereign," said Mr. Newville.
"Yes, royal, but stupid now and then," Mr. Dapper responded, to the
amazement of the company, and especially Mrs. Newville. "The fact is,
my dear madam, our king, unfortunately, has the reputation of being
the dullest sovereign in Europe. Perhaps you know there was not much
of him to begin with, as he was only a little pinch of a baby when he
was born, so puny and weak the nurses said he wouldn't stay here long.
He sat in their laps, and was coddled till six years old, when he was
put under that scheming, narrow-minded bigot, Reverend Doctor
Ayscough. And what do you suppose the reverend donkey set him to
doing? Why, learning hymns, written by another reverend gentleman,
Doctor Philip Doddridge. Very good religious hymns, no doubt, but not
quite so attractive as Mother Goose would have been to the little
fellow. After learning a few hymns and a few words in Latin, he was
set to making verses in that language, when he could not read a story
book without spelling half the words."
"How preposterous!" exclaimed Miss Milford.
"Somewhat absurd, I will admit," said Mr. Dapper, bowing. "One
reverend doctor was not sufficient," he continued, "to look after the
education of the prince, and so my Lord Bishop Hayter of Norwich was
associated with Doctor Ayscough. Then the Old Harry was let loose. My
Lord Bishop of Norwich was scheming to be made Archbishop of
Canterbury, and Ayscough wanted to become Bishop of Bristol. Both were
striving to rival little Jack Horner in putting their thumbs into the
pie."
The ladies were amused--excepting Mrs. Newville, who laid down her
knife and fork, folded her hands, and looked earnestly at Mr. Dapper.
"Do you mean to say there is scheming among the reverend prelates of
our most holy church?" she asked.
"Why, madam, human nature is pretty much the same in the church as out
of it, and there is quite as much intrigue among the prelates of the
church as among the politicians at court. His majesty, talking about
his early years not long since, said there was nothing but
disagreement and intrigue among those who had charge of him during his
early years. Mr. Scott, his tutor, did what he could for the little
fellow, but it wasn't much. His father, Fred, Prince of Wales,
delighted in private theatricals. He had several plays performed at
Leicester House by children, employing Jimmy Quin[47] to teach them
their parts. Now, my dear madam, you will see that with three bishops
disputing as to how the boy should be instructed in theology; whether
politically he should be a Jacobite or Whig; when each was trying to
get the biggest piece of pie and the most plums,--the boy, the while,
muddling his brains in trying to make Latin verses and learning
tragedies, there wasn't much chance for Master Scott to get him on in
other things, especially when my lord the Bishop of Norwich was
intriguing to get the master kicked downstairs, that he might put one
of his favorites in the position of tutor to the prince."
[Footnote 47: The celebrated actor, James Quin, was employed by the
Prince of Wales to direct the plays performed in Leicester House by
the children of the nobility.]
"Why, Mr. Dapper!" exclaimed Mrs. Newville.
"Then the prince had a change of governors about as often as the moon
fulled," said Mr. Dapper. "Each, of course, had some directions to
give in regard to his education. When Lord Harcourt was governor his
chief concern was to have the prince turn out his toes when walking."
The ladies laughed at Mr. Dapper's droll way of narrating the manner
of the king's education.
[Illustration: George III.]
"I do not wonder you smile, ladies; it is enough to make a horse
laugh," he said. "Perhaps you would like to know how the prince was
put through his paces from the time he opened his eyes in the morning
till he was tucked in bed at night. Lord North at one time was
governor to the prince; he gave me the programme of the daily routine.
The boy was to be out of bed at seven o'clock, eat breakfast and be
ready for Mr. Scott from eight o'clock to nine, or till the Reverend
Doctor John Thomas came, who had him in charge till eleven, when he
was to be turned over to Mr. Fung, for what purpose Lord North did not
know. At noon, Mr. Ruperti had him for half an hour. From half past
twelve till three the prince could play; that is, he could walk
through the grounds around Leicester House, trussed up in fine clothes
like a turkey for the spit, but he couldn't kick up his heels or turn
somersaults on the grass; he must be a nice little gentleman in lace
and ruffles. At three o'clock he had dinner. At half past four the
dancing-master, Mr. Deneyer, taught him the minuet. At five o'clock he
had another half hour with Mr. Fung. From half past six to eight Mr.
Scott put him through his curriculum. At eight o'clock he had supper,
but must be in bed at ten. On Sunday from half past nine till eleven
Reverend Doctor Ayscough lectured him on religion. To state it
plainly, our royal sovereign's real instructors were the servants and
chambermaids of Leicester House. They told him nursery tales about
hobgoblins, giant-killers, and witches. Doctor Ayscough and the bishop
gave him lectures on theology. The Jacobite bishop exalted the
prerogatives of princes and kings. Lord Waldegrave told me that, when
he was appointed governor to Prince George, he found him to be a good,
narrow-minded little bigot, with his head full of nursery tales and
not much else."
"Why, Mr. Dapper!" exclaimed Mrs. Newville, laying down her knife and
fork again, and holding up her hands.
"I see that you are astonished, madam. Now I would not for the world
say anything disrespectful of our gracious sovereign; he is not to be
blamed for the errors of those who had charge of him during his
minority,--he is to be commiserated rather; but you will observe that
it was not a course of education calculated to enlighten a dull
intellect. That he is good at heart every one knows, but his ministers
also know that he is narrow-minded and obstinate."
"We must not forget that our most gracious majesty, King George, is
one of the Lord's chosen instruments to carry out the plan of the
divine mind," said the rector.
"Oh, certainly, my dear sir; just as much of an instrument as ever
Samson was, flourishing the jawbone of an ass, smiting the Philistines
hip and thigh," Mr. Dapper replied.
The ladies smiled, but the rector did not altogether relish the reply.
"I never have quite understood how Earl Bute obtained his ascendency
with the king," said Mr. Adams.
"It was through his influence with the mother of the king," Mr. Dapper
replied. "He had a great deal to say about the king's education. It
was Bute who induced George II. to appoint Andrew Stone to have charge
of the young prince. Then the fat was in the fire. The Bishop of
Norwich accused Stone of being a Jacobite, and the quarrel became
hot--so sharp that the bishop entered the schoolroom to have it out
with Master Stone. Now I suppose, my dear rector, you would have
staked your money on the bishop, on the theory that the church
militant should also be the church triumphant."
"Possibly, if I were in the habit of laying wagers," the rector
replied.
"I certainly should have done so, reverend sir, but I should have lost
my money," continued Mr. Dapper; "for Mr. Stone was plucky, used his
fists beautifully, and gave it to my lord the bishop right between the
eyes. The bishop was quite gamey, though, and aimed a blow at Stone's
nose, but finally got shoved out of the room, greatly to his
mortification. He couldn't let the matter drop, and so accused Stone
of being drunk. The matter finally got into Parliament where there was
quite a row about it. Such were the auspices under which our good
sovereign was educated to administer the affairs of the realm. His
mother wanted to make him pious. She would not allow him to associate
with other boys because they would corrupt his morals. Lord Bute
advised the princess dowager to keep the prince tied to her apron
strings, and succeeded."
"Lord Bute," Mr. Adams responded, "is very much disliked in the
Colonies. When he was at the head of the ministry, he was hung in
effigy on the Liberty Tree."
"So he was in London," Mr. Dapper replied. "Your detestation of him
cannot be greater than it is in England. No one can quite understand
how John Stuart made his way up to power. He was a poor Scotsman from
the Frith of Clyde. He went to school at Eton and also at Cambridge,
then came to London, hired a piece of land out a little way from the
city, and raised peppermint, camomile, and other simples for medicine.
He had a love for private theatricals, had shapely legs and liked to
show them. One evening the Prince of Wales saw his legs, and, taking a
fancy to the owner, told him to make himself at home in Leicester
House. That was enough for John Stuart. Having got a foothold, he made
himself useful to Fred, and especially to the princess dowager. George
II. was getting on in years and irritable. The old king took it upon
himself to pick out a wife for the prince, selecting the daughter of
Charles, Duke of Brunswick-Wolfenbuettel; but the prince said he wasn't
going to be Wolfenbuttled by his grandsire. Just what he meant by it
no one knows, as the word is not to be found in Doctor Johnson's big
dictionary."
"Shall I help you to a bit of canvasback, my lord?" Mrs. Newville
asked, interrupting the narrative.
"Canvasback! What may it be? Really, you have most astonishing things
to eat over here," Lord Upperton replied.
Mrs. Newville explained that it was a duck, and that it was regarded
as a delicacy.
"I never ate anything so delicious," said Upperton.
Mr. Dapper also praised it.
"Was the marriage of our king and queen a love-match?" Miss Chanson
inquired.
"Well, hardly, at the beginning," said Mr. Dapper. "When the prince
was eighteen, he fell in love with Lady Sarah Lennox, daughter of the
Duke of Richmond. She was seventeen, beautiful, and attractive. She
knew how to display her charms to the best advantage, by going out
with the haymakers on fine summer mornings to wander in the meadows
among the daisies, wearing a fancy costume. No wonder the prince,
looking from the windows of Holland House, thought it a delightful
exhibition of Arcadian simplicity and made haste to chat with her. But
love-making between the future king and a subject was not in
accordance with the princess dowager's ideas, and so Earl Bute found
it convenient to appear upon the scene,--a gentle hint that there was
to be no more love-making. Their flirtations would make a long story
though, for Lord Newbottle was in love with Lady Sarah and jealous of
the prince, which made it all the more interesting. Bute and the
princess dowager put their heads together, and sent Colonel Graham on
a prospecting tour among the German principalities. He sent back word
that the daughter of the Duke of Mecklenburg-Strelitz would make a
good wife for his royal highness, and he judged well, for I am sure
you all love our Sophia Charlotte."
"Most certainly, and we would emulate her virtues," said Mrs. Adams.
Mr. Newville proposed the health of the queen.
Their glasses drained, Mr. Dapper went on:--
"Lord Harcourt was sent as ambassador to negotiate a marriage, not
with Sophia Charlotte, but with her brother, the duke."
"Was not our queen consulted in regard to the matter?" Ruth asked.
[Illustration: QUEEN SOPHIA CHARLOTTE]
"Not at all. She knew very little about the world; never had been a
dozen miles from home, never even had sat at the duke's table. She was
a simple-minded little girl who gave the chickens their dough and
gathered nosegays from her flower-garden. You can imagine, ladies,
that she hardly knew what to make of it when told that an ambassador
from England had arrived and wanted to see her. The duke told her to
put on her best gown, mind what Harcourt said, and not be a baby.
Suddenly the folding-doors leading to the ducal chamber opened, and
there stood the ambassador. 'You are to be married to him by proxy,
and be queen of England,' said the duke, which so surprised the poor
girl that she nearly fainted. The ceremony over, Harcourt presented
her with a necklace of diamonds. You see, ladies, it is almost the
story of Cinderella over again!"
"It is really romantic," responded Miss Milford.
"I would not be married to one whom I never had seen," exclaimed Ruth.
"A princess, Miss Newville, cannot always do as she would. She may be
compelled to marry against her will," said Lord Upperton.
"I would not," Ruth replied.
"Not if the country required it?" Lord Upperton asked.
"No, my lord; and I am glad I am not a princess."
"Bravely spoken. Ladies and gentlemen, let us drink to the maiden who,
though not of the blood royal, is yet a princess," said Mr. Dapper.
"Hear! hear!" exclaimed the admiral, thumping the table.
The company gazed admiringly at Ruth, peerless in her beauty, the warm
blood suffusing her cheeks.
"I understand that our queen assumed the position of royalty with much
grace," Mrs. Adams remarked.
"With charming simplicity, madam," responded Mr. Dapper. "She landed
at Harwich, and had an ovation all the way to London. People hurrahed,
bells rang, and cannon thundered. The poor girl was terribly
frightened. The thought of meeting a husband whom she had never seen
unstrung her nerves. The Duchess of Hamilton laughed at her, but it
was a hot shot the queen let fly; she said: 'You have been married
twice to husbands of your own choosing, but poor me must marry a man
whom I never have seen.'"
"Bravo! that raked the quarter-deck," exclaimed the admiral.
"How did the king receive her?" Ruth inquired.
"When she stepped from the coach she knelt at his feet; he gave her a
kiss, and led her into the palace."
"Very gallant on the part of the king; fitting and humble the action
of the queen," said the rector.
"I would not have got down on my knees to him," said Ruth.
"May I ask why Miss Newville would not have knelt to her future
husband and sovereign, had she been Princess Sophia?" the rector
asked.
"Because it was an acknowledgement at the outset that she was not his
equal. She abased herself by taking an inferior position. In the days
of chivalry, men knelt to women. The princess did not leave her happy
home to be a subject of King George; but to be his wife to stand by
his side, and not crouch at his feet."
"Hurrah! That's a whole broadside. She's sweeping your quarter-deck,"
shouted the admiral.
The rector grew red in the face.