be obedient to their husbands," he replied.
"Does the Bible say a wife must kneel at her husband's feet?" she
asked.
"Perhaps not in so many words, but she is commanded to obey. Our holy
church teaches the doctrine. When the princess knelt at the feet of
his majesty, it signified she would obey him. Perhaps it is my duty,
Miss Newville, to say that your sentiments would be regarded as
heretical by the authorities of the church."
"Hold on, rector," said Mr. Adams. "Don't set the canons of the church
to thundering."
"It is the gossip at court," said Mr. Dapper, "that the king wanted to
retire soon after sundown, but the queen said she wasn't going to bed
with the hens. It is said he told her she must wear a particular
dress, but she informed him he could dress as he pleased, and she
should do the same."
"You will have to go to court, rector, and lecture the queen on
heresy," said Mr. Adams.
The company laughed, and Ruth's eyes sparkled over the rector's
discomfiture.
The meats had been removed and Pompey was serving the pastry and
comfits.
"What delicious cheese you have. It is as toothsome as the finest
Cheshire," said Lord Upperton.
"We think it of excellent flavor, and I am sure you will relish it all
the more when I inform you, my lord, that it was made by a girl not
older than myself," replied Ruth.
"Indeed! is it possible? How very clever she must be."
"She is a New Hampshire lady."
"Are dairymaids ladies?"
"Indeed they are, my lord. The young lady who made the cheese you are
eating, I dare say, would adorn the court of our queen," responded Mr.
Adams.
"Bless me! oysters, cranberries, succotash, canvasback ducks, wild
turkeys, pumpkin pie, dairymaids ladies, wives the equals of their
husbands! Rector, will there be anything beyond these in the New
Jerusalem?" exclaimed Lord Upperton.
Dinner over, the ladies passed into the parlor while the gentlemen
smoked their pipes and finished their wine.
"I suppose, my lord," said Mr. Adams, "you have not been here
sufficiently long to form an opinion in regard to the Colonies."
"Everything is so new and strange," Lord Upperton replied, "I hardly
know what to make of it. I had an idea that I should find your people
quite rude and uncultivated. I understand you haven't any theatre or
anything of that sort; but, really, your ladies charm me by their
conversation. Mrs. Adams informs me she has studied Latin and Greek."
"I am happy to say my wife can read Cicero and Homer in the
originals," Mr. Adams replied.
"You astonish me," his lordship exclaimed.
"We are somewhat primitive, but the Colonies in time will make amends
for whatever they maybe lacking now," Mr. Adams responded, sipping his
wine. "The people who came to this Western world did so mainly for
conscience sake, and the time will come when this country will be the
seat of empire. Society here is established on enduring foundations.
One hundred years hence the chances are the people in the Colonies
will outnumber those of England. We are loyal to the king, but we are
a liberty-loving people and jealous of our rights. In time we shall be
so strong that the united force of Europe will not be able to subdue
us."[48]
[Footnote 48: The paragraph is in substance the prophecy of John
Adams, written to Nathan Webb, a school-teacher in Worcester, in
1755.]
"You have a great extent of country, but as a people you are widely
scattered. You have only a little fringe of settlements along the
seacoast. It will be an easy matter to divide you. England is rich,
and has a great navy; she controls the sea. Her armies have been
victors on many fields; she has wrested Canada from France," said his
lordship.
"With the aid of the Colonies," interrupted Mr. Adams.
"Perhaps we had better give politics the go-by and join the ladies,"
said his lordship, rising and moving towards the parlor.
Pompey brought in the tea-urn, cups and saucers, sugar and cream.
"Shall I pass you a cup, Miss Newville?" Lord Upperton asked.
"Thank you, my lord, but I do not drink tea."
"Ha, ha! Miss Newville, so you have joined the other conspirators to
outwit Lord North!"
"No, your lordship, I have not joined them, but I must say I admire
their resolution in giving up a luxury to maintain a great principle."
"As for myself," said Mr. Dapper, "I rather like the spirit of the
Puritan mothers and daughters here in the Colonies; they are worthy
descendants of the men who had it out with Charles I. It is all
nonsense, this plea of Lord North, that the people in the Colonies
ought to pay a portion of the debt incurred by England in the late war
with France; it is the extravagance and corruption of Parliament and
of those in power that grinds us,--the giving of grants, pensions, and
gratuities to favorites, parasites, and hangers-on. During Bute's and
Grenville's administrations the public money was sown broadcast. If
votes were wanted, they were purchased. It was not unusual for a
member of the Commons to find four hundred pounds in his napkin at
dinner, or in a billet-doux left by the postman. Of course he
understood the meaning of it. The ministers helped themselves to
sugar-plums worth five thousand pounds. When the Duke of Grafton was
at the head of the ministry, that parasite, Tom Bradshaw, who had done
some nasty work for the Premier, received an annuity of fifteen
hundred pounds and a suite of thirty rooms in Hampton Palace. He is
there now, and has had the suite increased to seventy apartments. Not
long ago the ministry put out one hundred thousand pounds to carry a
measure through the Commons."
"You astonish me! Do you mean to intimate that our king has corrupt
men around him?" Mrs. Newville inquired.
"My dear madam, the king is hardly responsible for this state of
things. It is part of the political system. Politics is a game. Men
can cheat in government as well as in anything else, and there are
quite as many cheats in and around St. James's as at Almack's or any
of the other gambling resorts. Other things are done in and around
Westminster, by those whom you are accustomed to revere, which would
astonish you could I but speak of them," said Mr. Dapper.
The evening being beautiful, the air genial, the company strolled in
the garden, and ate the ripening plums and pears. Lord Upperton,
finding pleasure in the society of Miss Newville, asked what
recreation the young people in the Colonies enjoyed. She told of the
launching of the ship Berinthia Brandon, the pung-ride and dance at
the Greyhound Tavern, the quiltings, huskings, and tea-parties.
"I hope, Miss Newville, this will not be the last time I shall have
the pleasure of seeing you. I shall not soon forget the succotash and
cranberries, and shall improve an early opportunity to pay my respects
to you," he said, as he bade her good-evening.
"By Jove, Dapper, she's as fine a piece of chintz as can be picked up
at St. James's or anywhere else," he said, as they returned to the
Admiral Vernon.
XI.
SOCIETY LIFE IN LONDON.
On a pleasant afternoon Lord Upperton was once more ushered into the
Newville mansion. Mrs. Newville being absent, he was graciously
received by Ruth.
"I had such a delightful time in your hospitable home, Miss Newville,
the other evening, that I could no longer refrain from paying my
respects."
"It is certainly very kind of you, my lord."
"I cannot tell you how delighted I was when you told me about your
recreations. How charming it must be to go riding in a pung, with a
lot of ladies and gentlemen. I was wondering if I could not get up a
pung-ride."
"We only do that in winter, when snow is on the ground, my lord," Ruth
replied, hardly able to repress a smile.
"Oh, dear me! how stupid I am! Of course not," and his lordship
laughed heartily at his blunder.
"Do you not have snow in London, my lord?"
"Yes, sometimes; but then we haven't any pungs. I don't know what they
are. Maybe they are a sort of hackney or chariot?"
"We have no hackney coaches here, as yet, my lord, but Mr. Hancock and
the governor and a few of our citizens have coaches. A pung is not at
all like a coach. It is, instead, a sort of box on runners."
"Oh, indeed, how interesting!"
"May I ask, my lord, what recreations you have in London?"
"We have quite a variety, I assure you, Miss Newville. We have card
parties, where we play high or low, just as we feel. We have
assemblies, where we tittle-tattle and gossip. We gentlemen lay bets
on the winning horse at the next Derby. We go to Drury Lane or Covent
Garden, and clap our hands at the acting of Davy Garrick or Jimmy
Quin. At the opera we go wild when Mademoiselle Truffi soars like a
nightingale up to high C. We dance at balls, array ourselves as
harlequins and imps at masquerades, and see who can carry off the most
bottles of port or sherry at dinner," said his lordship, again
laughing.
"Are you not jesting, my lord?"
"Oh no, Miss Newville; I am telling you sober truth. It is not
exaggeration at all. For instance, the masquerade which the Duke and
Duchess of Richmond gave on the king's last birthday was so gay that I
can hardly hope to picture it. The duke's villa is on the banks of the
Thames. The willows, elms, and oaks in the park were hung with
lanterns, the house was all ablaze--lights in every room. Dukes,
duchesses, earls, barons, lords, and ladies--more than six
hundred--assembled in masquerade dress. The Duchess of Hamilton and
Argyle was hostess. She appeared as Night, with a black trailing robe
illuminated with silver stars, while her father was dressed as a
footman, with the portrait of his other daughter dangling from a
ribbon tied to a button of his jacket."
"Was it not rather out of character for a man old enough to be grave
and dignified to take such a part?" Miss Newville asked.
"Perhaps so, but then we are expected to do absurd things in
masquerade. Her grace the Duchess of Richmond, for instance, appeared
as the Sultana of Persia, in a costume purchased in the bazaar of
Bagdad. The Duchess of Grafton displayed her charms as Cleopatra. Now
when we remember that Egypt and the Orient have a climate in which a
person can get along without any great amount of clothing, it really
does seem somewhat absurd for a lady, in a country with a climate like
that of England, to attempt to imitate in dress, or undress, that
celebrated queen of the East."
Lord Upperton laughed again. "Miss Fitzroy," he continued, "undertook
to represent the Sultana of Turkey. If I remember rightly, she
appeared in baggy silk trousers, high-heeled pink slippers, crimson
jacket, embroidered with gold, and a white turban. Her bewitching eyes
peeped through two holes in a muslin yashmak spangled with silver
stars. Among the gentlemen I recall Lord Augustus Hervey, who
disguised himself so completely as a jester that no one could make out
who he was. He said saucy things as a court fool. He even guyed his
own wife, and she never mistrusted she was flirting with her own
husband, but then, as she was ready to flirt with anybody, it made no
difference."
Miss Newville hardly knew what reply to make as his lordship laughed
again, and so remained silent.
"May I ask what character Lord Upperton assumed," she asked.
"Oh, certainly. I appeared as a young devil, with hoofs, horns, and a
forked tail. His satanic majesty, you know, is supposed to whisper
things in people's ears, and you may be sure I acted out the character
I assumed. I did it so well that Lady Lucy Hastings said I was a
perfect imp of darkness."
"Have you any other recreations?" Miss Newville inquired.
"Oh, yes, a great many. One diversion I am sure would charm you,--the
club at Almack's, in which the ladies nominate gentlemen to membership
and gentlemen the ladies. Only a few days before leaving London I
attended a grand masquerade ball at Almack's, where my Lady Archer
appeared as a boy wearing a postman's blue coat. Lord Edgecombe
assumed the character of an old washerwoman. Sir Watkins Wynne rode
into the hall on a goat, assuming the character of holy Saint David.
The goat, more accustomed to browse in the pastures than take part in
such high jinks, frightened by the blare of trumpets, the scraping of
fiddles, and the whisking of the ladies' skirts as they went round in
the dance, capered like mad, butted my Lady Winchester so that she
fell flat upon the floor, upset holy Saint David, and kept the room in
an uproar until a waiter seized the animal by the horns and another by
the tail and led him from the hall."
Lord Upperton roared with laughter, and Miss Newville could but join
him in the merriment.
"It was a picturesque scene, I assure you, with peddlers, haymakers,
shepherdesses, gypsies, chimney-sweeps, and nymphs," his lordship
said.
"May I ask, my lord, what a masquerade is supposed to represent?" Miss
Newville inquired.
"Well, really now, I never thought of it. I suppose it means
something, but just what, upon my soul, I cannot tell you, except to
have a jolly good time and appear to be what we are not."
"Are such masquerade balls usually attended by noble lords and
ladies?"
"Oh, yes. They are almost the exclusive patrons. I attended one a
little while ago at Carlisle House. It was intended the king and queen
should be patrons. Tickets were sent to his most gracious majesty,
and, of course, there was a great crush. The king and queen returned
the tickets, but everybody else was there. I remember that the Duke of
Cleveland appeared as Henry VIII.; the Duke of Gloucester as a fine
old English gentleman; the Duchess of Buccleugh as the Witch of Endor;
Lady Edgecombe as a nun; the Duchess of Bolton as the goddess Diana;
Lady Stanhope as Melopomene; the Countess of Waldegrave as Jane Shore;
Lord Galway's daughter, Mrs. Monckton, as an Indian princess, in a
golden robe, embroidered with diamonds, opals, and pearls worth thirty
thousand pounds. One of the gentlemen came as a Swiss ballad-singer
with a hurdy-gurdy, leading a tame bear with a muzzle on his nose. He
had been stopped by the gate-keeper, because he had only a ticket and
a half--the half ticket for the bear; but it being a she-bear and
ladies being admitted at half price, the hurdy-gurdy man won the day.
Everybody laughed and said it was the best joke of the season."
Lord Upperton saw a troubled look upon Miss Newville's face, as if she
had heard quite enough about masquerades.
"The recreations of court life, I would not have you think, Miss
Newville, are masquerades and balls, and nothing else. We have suppers
which are quite different affairs, where we do not try to be what we
are not. After the theatres are out we go to the banquet halls, where
wine and wit flow together. We gossip, sing songs, and flirt with the
Macaroni ladies. The opera girls sing to us if they are not too tipsy,
and we have gay larks till the wagons begin to rumble around Covent
Garden Market, and the greengrocers are displaying their onions and
cabbages for the early morning sale."
"Who are the Macaroni ladies?" Miss Newville asked.
Lord Upperton laughed.
"I don't wonder that you inquire. We call them Macaronies, ladies and
gentlemen alike, who have traveled on the Continent, flirted at
Versailles, in Paris, or in the Palace Barberini in Rome; who have
eaten macaroni in Naples, and who have come home with all the follies,
to say nothing of some of the vices of the nobility of other
countries, in addition to what they had before they started on their
travels. The gentlemen wear their hair in long curls; the ladies
patch and paint their faces. If they haven't a pimple or a wart they
make one. They wear gorgeous dresses. The gentlemen twiddle canes
ornamented with dogs' heads or eagles' beaks, with gold tassels; carry
attar of rose bottles in their gloved hands, and squirt rosewater on
their handkerchiefs. They ogle the ladies through their quizzing
glasses, wear high-heeled slippers, and diddle along on their toes
like a French dancing-master teaching his pupils the minuet. The
ladies simper and giggle and wink at the gentlemen from behind their
fans, and leave you to imagine something they don't say."
Again Lord Upperton saw a troubled look upon Miss Newville's face.
"We have convivial parties," he continued. "If you like cards, you can
try your hand at winning or losing. We play for fifty-pound rouleaux.
There is always a great crowd, and not infrequently you may see ten
thousand pounds on the table. Some play small; others plunge in
regardless of consequences. My young friend, Lord Stravendale, before
he was of age, one night lost eleven thousand pounds, but nothing
daunted he played again, and as luck would have it got it all back at
one hazard. He lamented he had not made the stakes larger, and said if
he had been playing deep he might have made a million. It was really
very clever in Stravendale."
Again his lordship laughed, but Miss Newville could not see anything
in the narrative to cause her to smile.
"There is Charley Fox," Lord Upperton continued, "who goes in rather
strong. He makes grand speeches in the Commons; but almost always gets
fleeced at Almack's. The Jews, who are usually on hand in one of the
outside rooms with their shekels, waiting to lend money, charge
exorbitant interest. Charley calls it the Jerusalem Chamber. Sometimes
he gets completely cleaned out, and has to borrow a guinea to pay the
waiter who brings him his brandy. One night at the beginning he won
eight thousand pounds, but before morning lost the last sixpence."
"Do ladies play?" Miss Newville asked.
"Certainly; they love gaming as well as the men. Her royal highness
the Duchess of Cumberland not long ago set up card playing and gaming
in her drawing-rooms. Her sister, Lady Elizabeth Lutterell, is one of
the best gamesters in London. It is whispered, though, that she cheats
on the sly. Lady Essex gives grand card parties, where there is high
gaming. One lady, whom I know, lost three thousand guineas at loo. It
is whispered that two ladies, not long since, had high words at one of
Lady Essex's parties; that they rode out to St. Pancras and fought a
duel with pistols, and that one was wounded; which shows that our
noble women have real grit."
"Is what you are saying a fair picture of life among the nobility?"
Ruth asked.
"I would not have you think, Miss Newville, that everybody of noble
birth or high position is a gambler, but every one who plays, of
course, wants a stake of some kind."
"Pardon me, my lord, but I do not see any fun in losing money in the
way you speak of."
"Well, perhaps there isn't any fun in losing, but it is real jolly
when you win. It is like drinking wine; it warms you up."
"Do you have any other recreations equally attractive and delightful?"
Miss Newville inquired.
"We have gay times at the Derby during the races. Of course you have
felt the excitement of a horse-race, Miss Newville?"
"No, for we do not have horse-racing here; but I believe they do in
Virginia."
"No racing! I am astonished. Are not your people rather slow?"
"We have few diversions, my lord; we do not win money by racing."
"You can have no conception of what a grand sight it is. Everybody
goes to the Derby--dukes, lords, bishops, rectors, ladies, and
gentlemen. Before the race begins, we have our lunch parties. All are
eating, talking, laughing, or laying bets. The horses come out from
their stalls with the jockey boys in red, green, blue, and yellow, in
their saddles. They draw lots to see which shall have the inside, then
go down the track a little distance. The horses understand what they
are to do just as well as we who stake our money. They sniff the air,
step lightly, then break into a run, and everybody is on tiptoe. In a
moment they are down to the first turn, and come in full view. There
are four, perhaps, neck and neck. You have staked, say, on yellow. He
loses half a length, and your heart goes down: but he gains a little,
is up even once more--half a length ahead, and you yell and double
your stakes. They are round the second turn, going like a whirlwind;
yellow and blue are ahead of the others, neck and neck.
"'Two to one on yellow!' you shout.
"'I'll take it!' roars Lord Pilkington.
"'Two to one on blue!' he shouts back.
"'Put me down for it!' you answer.
"They are on the home run. There is a great hubbub, like the roaring
of a tornado, as they sweep under the line, yellow ahead. You swing
your hat, and yell as loud as you can. You are ten thousand in. Oh, it
is just the jolliest excitement a man can have!"
"If you win, my lord, does not somebody else lose?"
"Of course, Miss Newville."
"Do they feel equally jolly?"
"Possibly not. Sometimes we are out of pocket, and do not feel quite
so hilarious, but we swallow a stiff nipper of brandy and draw our
checks like men. I won five thousand from Lord Pilkington, three
thousand from Lady Merryfield, and quite a number of one hundred
pounders from the ladies of my set, who bet on the blue, while I
planked mine on the yellow. You see, Miss Newville, that ladies are
sometimes influenced by fancy. Lady Somers, for instance, allowed
fancy to get the better of judgment. She likes blue as a color, above
yellow. She is quite horsey, and thinks she can drive a tandem. I had
examined blue, felt of his muscles, and made up my mind that by and by
he would have ringbone on his left fore leg. I believed that yellow
had the best wind and bottom; but the ladies followed the lead of Lady
Somers, and so I raked in their shekels. They all ponied up promptly,
though, and paid their outs, like true-born English ladies."
"I do not think," said Miss Newville, "that I should like to lose or
win money in that way."
"Why, Miss Newville, once get into it, and you would say it is the
most delightful sport in the world. If you think, however, that you
would not like to participate in such pleasures, we have the fox hunt,
which is the most charming and innocent diversion imaginable. You
don't bet any money in that, but have a rollicking good time riding
over the country, ladies and gentlemen--leaping hedges and ditches,
following the hounds, running Reynard to cover, and having a lunch at
the close of the hunt."
"Foxes are plentiful in this country, but we do not run them down with
horses," Miss Newville replied.
"Do ladies ride horseback in the Colonies?"
"Oh, yes. Were you to attend meeting in the country on the Sabbath,
you would see many ladies riding up to the horse-block, wives on
pillions behind their husbands. Do the ladies who hunt foxes attend
meeting on the Sabbath, my lord?"
"Ha, ha! I suspect what you call going to meeting, with us is going to
church. Oh, we are very devout. On Sunday we all go to church, kneel
on our hassocks, and confess we are miserable sinners, recite the
creed, pray for the king, queen, Prince of Wales, the army and navy.
We do our full duty as Christians, and are loyal to the church, as
well as to his majesty. My rector, at Halford, is a very good man. To
be sure the living isn't much, but he reads the prayers well, preaches
a nice little sermon of ten minutes or so, for he knows I don't care
to be bored by the hour. He enjoys a fox hunt, says grace at dinner,
and makes a point of having a little game of cards with me Saturday
evening. He doesn't know much about cards, so I usually let him win a
few shillings, knowing the poor fellow will feel better Sunday morning
while reading the service if he knows he has a half-crown in his
pocket, instead of being out that much. I know how it is, Miss
Newville. I can be more devout and comfortable on Sunday after winning
instead of losing five or ten thousand at Almack's."
"Perhaps, my lord, you feel you are not quite such a miserable sinner
as you might be after all."
"You have stated it correctly, Miss Newville," his lordship replied,
not discerning the quiet sarcasm. "Of course I am not, for if I lose,
I curse my luck, and am ready to punch somebody's head, and rip out
some swear words, but if I win, I am ready to bless the other fellow
for playing a king when he should have laid down an ace."
His lordship apologized for having tarried so long, and took his
departure.
"She's a Puritan, through and through. As lovely and pure as an angel
in heaven," he said to himself as he walked down the street.
* * * * *