IN WHICH GENERAL POTTER FINALLY SECURES THE SERVICES OF MR. TICKLER;
AND, TOGETHER WITH PEKLEWORTH GLANMOREGAIN, THEY VISIT THE OPERA
BEFORE SETTING OUT FOR WASHINGTON.
GLANMOREGAIN went home thinking within himself that the general was,
mentally, not quite up to what he had expected to find him. However,
as generals were not always to be judged either by their epistles or
conversation, so the rotund figure, he thought, might prove himself
a dabster in war as well as politics. Further, he did not so much
want a general who would have his own way in every thing, (for then
there was danger of his holding what he got, under the rules of
war,) but rather one whom he could mould and direct according to his
desires. In fine, the man, he thought, might reflect the follies of
a fool, and in the quality of wars he intended to prosecute, be
exactly the general he wanted. The general, on the other hand,
commenced setting himself down as the most fortunate military man of
his day. Indeed, all the pedantry of his extravagant nature was
excited to a degree that made him already begin to contemplate
himself the hero of endless victories. He also cast a stray thought
to old Battle, and fancied himself mounted upon him at the head of a
victorious army, returning proudly home after having demolished
several kingdoms and built up as many republics. He also lost no
time in writing a second letter to his wife Polly, in which he set
forth, with much flourish, that he had been so elevated in the
opinion of the nation, that now he was offered the command of an
army; which he had accepted, and was about to invade the kingdom of
a foreign prince. And this letter he sealed and dispatched with all
possible speed, hoping in his heart that it might reach his wife
Polly in advance of the other.
When this was done, Mr. Tickler entered, and, after passing the
usual compliments, proceeded, without further ceremony, to write a
note to the landlord of the New York Hotel, returning thanks for his
extreme generosity. But not a word was said about the three dollars.
Mr. Tickler declared it would not do to lisp a word concerning it,
as such would be in direct violation of the rules of etiquette
common at this day. Having despatched the note, the general set
about relating what had taken place between himself and
Glanmoregain, and expressing himself delighted at the opportunity of
so soon displaying his prowess in war. "Faith!" exclaimed Mr.
Tickler, "every merchant will soon get him a general of his own. By
the love of my mother! now it's just struck me: perhaps I can get a
small advance on the strength of my future services? for I am in
arrears with my landlady, whose look of melancholy so admonishes me
every time I enter the house, that I have for more than a week taken
advantage of the back door." The general shrugged his shoulders,
declared the will good enough to render the desired relief, but that
the means were wanting. To be out-spoken, he hinted to Mr. Tickler
that, in the event of joining his service, it must be upon the
condition that he depend on the fortunes of war for his reward. As
to the hostess, he declared that he had not a doubt of her being a
very excellent lady, as hostesses ought to be. Still, he gave it as
his opinion, that it were much better political economy to leave the
poor woman's house with a small bill unpaid, than eat himself into a
large one. He further suggested that when the time came, he pack up
and leave as quietly as possible, neither looking to the right nor
the left, but getting out of the city by the most direct route; and
when a respectful distance was reached, just to drop her a friendly
line, saying he could not find it compatible with his conscience to
longer eat her bread without paying for it, but as soon as fortune
put the means in his way, he would lose no time in rubbing out the
score.
"Love of my mother!" again ejaculated Tickler, "but your astetics
are well enough. And I like the logic that closes the door on a
small debt, rather than bury a friend with a big one. See that, now,
master general!"
The preliminaries whereby the adroit critic was to follow the
fortunes of his master, were now arranged, and the agreement signed.
Tickler was to be faithful and obedient to his master, rendering him
such services as the change of events might demand, being content
with rations and clothing until the fortunes of war turned up
something better.
When night was come, Glanmoregain again made his appearance, having
previously extended an invitation, to escort the general to the
opera. And as Tickler was about to perform so important a part in
his project, he could do no less than invite him also. Vain of the
importance he imagined himself possessing in the eyes of the public,
the general was with some difficulty restrained from mounting his
uniform, which he held necessary, lest he be confounded with some
ordinary individual without claim to popular favor. Having persuaded
him to forego this unnecessary display, the three sallied out
together, and soon arrived at what is curiously called the Academy
of Music, a building which several friends of the writer of this
history, and who are gentlemen of acknowledged taste, declare to be
unexcelled for splendor and beauty of architecture, not even
excepting the La Scala, St. Carlo, Covent Garden, or even the Tacon.
With all deference for the opinions of my accomplished friends, I
must confess that the exterior of the building struck me as a huge,
square mass of brick much disfigured with awkward looking windows
and common place lintels. Indeed, it might easily have been mistaken
for a charity hospital; and in the absence of a front, discovering
the slightest architectural grandeur, bore no small resemblance to
an absurdly constructed barracks.
Entering what in a church would be designated a vestibule, but which
here served as a convenient place for loitering gentlemen who
speculate in tickets, and the only visible furniture of which had
been reformed down to a cheap chandelier, they passed on through a
narrow baize door, flanked on one side by an oily ticket taker, and
on the other by a fashionably dressed and bearded gentleman, whom
the manager, in his praiseworthy efforts to please a capricious
public, seemed to have placed there for the ostensible purpose of
staring in the faces of ladies, and so circumscribing the width of
the passage as to render it exceedingly difficult of ingress. They
passed on into the "dress circle," where the seats were peculiarly
adapted for making the back ache, and soon found that they had got
behind a huge column, (of which there were many similar ones,) where
no human eye could get a glimpse of the stage, though the
unfortunate visitor paid ten dollars for his seat. As to the
interior of the house, it forcibly reminded me of an immense gypsum
quarry, with rudely excavated galleries, forming such a jumble and
confusion of lines, that it was in vain you looked for an
architectural beauty. Indeed, I venture to assert, that such a huge
conglomerate of plaster and cheap gilt never before decorated one
edifice, and that dedicated to high art. And if the uncouth images,
with limbs of giants and heads of ordinary females, which met the
eye at every turn, were to be accepted in proof of the high standard
of taste at which we had arrived, then surely plaster and gilt ought
to form the motto. Figures of ugly females, in plaster, bore up the
second tier; groups of nymphs, in plaster, stared at you from the
circle borders; grim visaged figures, in plaster, looked tauntingly
at you from the proscenium; a troop of impolite figures, in plaster,
beset you in flank and rear, and haunted you at every turn, as
plaster figures had evidently haunted the imagination of the
architect. In fine, every deficiency seemed compensated with an
image in plaster, or, what was worse, one of those fashionable
society men who sit in dumb show, listening to the melody, without
enjoying the sense or knowing a word of what is being sung.
A great admirer of this plaster-perfect edifice was my friend, Miss
Kate Suppletongue, who declared to me that though she had been twice
to London and Paris, she had seen nothing equal to the Academy for
grandeur. Tom Slenderstring, of the Brevoort House, too, said
neither the St. Carlos nor the Covent Garden could compare with it
for beauty of design. And Tom was a traveled man, whose verdict the
whole avenue accepted in matters of taste. My disappointment then
was only equaled by the height to which my expectations had been
raised by these excellent authorities. But what grieved me most, for
I am a man of sympathy, was the batteries which had evidently been
committed on these females in plaster forming an advance guard to
the d.c.s circle, and obstructing the view while affecting to
support the upper boxes. I am told that the directors and
stockholders are men of large humanity, whose only vanity lies in
fancying themselves liberal patrons of art, which is pardonable in
gentlemen much given to commerce. I beseech them, then, as they are
christian gentlemen, to look to the distressed condition of these
females, some of whom have lost their noses, others their fingers
and toes, while still others have had curious antics performed with
their bosoms, which would seem to afford no little diversion to
certain females of easy virtue, who, together with the empty seats
of the stockholders, are firm fixtures of the dress circle. My pity
was indeed excited at beholding the large aperture made by some
strange accident in the abdomen of one of these plaster females, and
which aperture a thoughtless young gentleman made a convenient place
for depositing his hat and cane, much to the amusement of those in
the vicinity.
As the opera (which is familiarly known as that of Lucrezia Borgia)
proceeded, the general, who was not accustomed to this style of
singing, began to think it a mere tilt of voices between the
singers. "Pray, what does it all mean, sir?" said he, turning to Mr.
Tickler with much anxiety, "for I cannot understand a word of it;
and it seems to me there are enough more in the same predicament,
for those who have books I take it cannot find the places." Mr.
Tickler, who affected to have the whole opera at his fingers' ends,
began an explanation of the history and plot of the opera, which,
however, only served to leave the matter more confused in the
general's mind; and he declared he saw no good reason why they
should scream their troubles in a language not one word of which
nineteen-twentieths of the audience could understand.
"Faith of my father, sir," he continued, "but if the fleshy man
would only stop his screaming, and set to sing 'Auld Lang Syne,' or
something of that sort, it would be much more to my liking. To your
fashionable folks with your fashionable singing, for all me: and let
them who understand it pay for it; to be honest with you, sir, (and
I see you are much given to this sort of singing,) I can make no
more of it than that the fleshy man you call the tenor, and who you
say is no scaly fellow, but a man with whom several damsels have
become enamored, is outdoing the big man you call the basso, in
telling his troubles to the audience, who, I take it, care not a
whit about them, seeing that most of them are keeping up a loud
conversation on matters concerning their neighbors, which is a proof
of their resolution not to let the bawling fellows upon the stage
have it all their own way. As to the moral of the representation, I
have no doubt it is good, as you say; but I hold, that vice is
better shut up in the closet than served out for the amusement of
the young. But lest you say I am not a man of feeling, I can tell
you I pity the tall woman you call the prima donna; and if she would
accept a word of advice from me, I would tell her to so square her
example for the future, that she may be prepared for Heaven when
Death knocks at the door, since she is a lady of so much beauty that
it would be a pity to see her leave this world without redemption.
And as I see the big, fat chorus women are laughing in their skins
at our ignorance of what they say, I would have them take heed lest
they fall into the snare you describe as being set for the square
shouldered damsels you call the atrato." "Contralto!" interrupted
Mr. Tickler. "Well, have it contralto, then; the difference is only
in a word or two, which matters nothing now-a-days. And as to the
opera, I hold it best that we get home and attend to matters
concerning our journey, for I see the two foreign gentlemen on the
stage are for having a fight between themselves; and as it would not
become me, as a military man, to stand by and see any unfair play,
or indeed, to have anything to do with it, let us prove the strength
of our understanding by getting quietly away." During this colloquy
between the general and Mr. Tickler, Glanmoregain had been a quiet
listener; but he was not a little amused at the singular innocence
of the man he was about to entrust with the important office of
overthrowing a kingdom. And although he would have remained to the
end of the opera, which, so far as the principals were concerned,
was really being performed in a very creditable manner, he
accompanied the general to his quarters at the St. Nicholas, where
they, having made such arrangements for the journey as will be
recorded in the following chapter, parted for the night.