The Newcomes

by William Makepeace Thackeray

having this match very much at heart, chose to coax and to soothe her

  granddaughter rather than to endeavour to scold and frighten her.

  "Why do you desire this marriage so much, grandmamma," the girl asked.

  "My cousin is not very much in love,--at least I should fancy not," she

  added, blushing. "I am bound to own Lord Kew is not in the least eager,

  and I think if you were to tell him to wait for five years he would be

  quite willing. Why should you be so very anxious?"

  "Why, my dear? Because I think young ladies who want to go and work in

  the fields, should make hay while the sun shines; because I think it is

  high time that Kew should ranger himself; because I am sure he will make

  the best husband, and Ethel the prettiest Countess in England." And the

  old lady, seldom exhibiting any signs of affection, looked at her

  granddaughter very fondly. From her Ethel looked up into the glass, which

  very likely repeated on its shining face the truth her elder had just

  uttered. Shall we quarrel with the girl for that dazzling reflection; for

  owning that charming truth, and submitting to the conscious triumph? Give

  her her part of vanity, of youth, of desire to rule and be admired.

  Meanwhile Mr. Clive's drawings have been crackling in the fireplace at

  her feet, and the last spark of that combustion is twinkling out

  unheeded.

  CHAPTER XXXIII

  Lady Kew at the Congress

  When Lady Kew heard that Madame d'Ivry was at Baden, and was informed at

  once of the French lady's graciousness towards the Newcome family, and of

  her fury against Lord Kew, the old Countess gave a loose to that

  energetic temper with which nature had gifted her; a temper which she

  tied up sometimes and kept from barking and biting; but which when

  unmuzzled was an animal of whom all her ladyship's family had a just

  apprehension. Not one of them but in his or her time had been wounded,

  lacerated, tumbled over, otherwise frightened or injured by this unruly

  brute. The cowards brought it sops and patted it; the prudent gave it a

  clear berth, and walked round so as not to meet it; but woe be to those

  of the family who had to bring the meal, and prepare the litter, and (to

  speak respectfully) share the kennel with Lady Kew's "Black Dog!" Surely

  a fine furious temper, if accompanied with a certain magnanimity and

  bravery which often go together with it, is one of the most precious and

  fortunate gifts with which a gentleman or lady can be endowed. A person

  always ready to fight is certain of the greatest consideration amongst

  his or her family circle. The lazy grow tired of contending with him; the

  timid coax and flatter him; and as almost every one is timid or lazy, a

  bad-tempered man is sure to have his own way. It is he who commands, and

  all the others obey. If he is a gourmand, he has' what he likes for

  dinner; and the tastes of all the rest are subservient to him. She (we

  playfully transfer the gender, as a bad temper is of both sexes) has the

  place which she likes best in the drawing-room; nor do her parents, nor

  her brothers and sisters, venture to take her favourite chair. If she

  wants to go to a party, mamma will dress herself in spite of her

  headache; and papa, who hates those dreadful soirees, will go upstairs

  after dinner and put on his poor old white neckcloth, though he has been

  toiling at chambers all day, and must be there early in the morning--he

  will go out with her, we say, and stay for the cotillon. If the family

  are taking their tour in the summer, it is she who ordains whither they

  shall go, and when they shall stop. If he comes home late, the dinner is

  kept for him, and not one dares to say a word though ever so hungry. If

  he is in a good humour, how every one frisks about and is happy! How the

  servants jump up at his bell and run to wait upon him! How they sit up

  patiently, and how eagerly they rush out to fetch cabs in the rain!

  Whereas for you and me, who have the tempers of angels, and never were

  known to be angry or to complain, nobody cares whether we are pleased or

  not. Our wives go to the milliners and send us the bill, and we pay it;

  our John finishes reading the newspaper before he answers our bell, and

  brings it to us; our sons loll in the arm-chair which we should like;

  fill the house with their young men, and smoke in the dining-room; our

  tailors fit us badly; our butchers give us the youngest mutton; our

  tradesmen dun us much more quickly than other people's, because they know

  we are good-natured; and our servants go out whenever they like, and

  openly have their friends to supper in the kitchen. When Lady Kew said

  Sic volo, sic jubeo, I promise you few persons of her ladyship's

  belongings stopped, before they did her biddings, to ask her reasons.

  If, which very seldom happens, there are two such imperious and

  domineering spirits in a family, unpleasantries of course will arise from

  their contentions; or, if out of doors the family Bajazet meets with some

  other violent Turk, dreadful battles ensue, all the allies on either side

  are brought in, and the surrounding neighbours perforce engaged in the

  quarrel. This was unluckily the case in the present instance. Lady Kew,

  unaccustomed to have her will questioned at home, liked to impose it

  abroad. She judged the persons around her with great freedom of speech.

  Her opinions were quoted, as people's sayings will be; and if she made

  bitter speeches, depend on it they lost nothing in the carrying. She was

  furious against Madame la Duchesse d'Ivry, and exploded in various

  companies whenever that lady's name was mentioned. "Why was she not with

  her husband? Why was the poor old Duke left to his gout, and this woman

  trailing through the country with her vagabond court of billiard-markers

  at her heels? She to call herself Mary Queen of Scots, forsooth!--well,

  she merited the title in some respects, though she had not murdered her

  husband as yet. Ah! I should like to be Queen Elizabeth if the Duchess is

  Queen of Scots!" said the old lady, shaking her old fist. And these

  sentiments being uttered in public, upon the promenade, to mutual

  friends, of course the Duchess had the benefit of Lady Kew's remarks a

  few minutes after they were uttered; and her grace, and the distinguished

  princes, counts, and noblemen in her court, designated as

  billiard-markers by the old Countess, returned the latter's compliments

  with pretty speeches of their own. Scandals were dug up respecting her

  ladyship, so old that one would have thought them forgotten these forty

  years,--so old that they happened before most of the Newcomes now extant

  were born, and surely therefore are out of the province of this

  contemporary biography. Lady Kew was indignant with her daughter (there

  were some moments when any conduct of her friends did not meet her

  ladyship's approbation) even for the scant civility with which Lady Anne

  had received the Duchess's advances. "Leave a card upon her!--yes, send a

  card by one of your footmen; but go in to see her--because she was at the

  window and saw you drive up.--Are you mad, Anne? That was the very reason

  you should no
t have come out of your carriage. But you are so weak and

  good-natured, that if a highwayman stopped you, you would say, 'Thank

  you, sir,' as you gave him your purse: yes, and if Mrs. Macheath called

  on you afterwards you would return the visit!"

  Even had these speeches been made about the Duchess, and some of them not

  addressed to her, things might have gone on pretty well. If we quarrelled

  with all the people who abuse us behind our backs, and began to tear

  their eyes out as soon as we set ours on them, what a life it would be,

  and when should we have any quiet? Backbiting is all fair in society.

  Abuse me, and I will abuse you; but let us be friends when we meet. Have

  not we all entered a dozen rooms, and been sure, from the countenances of

  the amiable persons present, that they had been discussing our little

  peculiarities, perhaps as we were on the stairs? Was our visit,

  therefore, the less agreeable? Did we quarrel and say hard words to one

  another's faces? No--we wait until some of our dear friends take their

  leave, and then comes our turn. My back is at my neighbour's service; as

  soon as that is turned let him make what faces he thinks proper: but when

  we meet we grin and shake hands like well-bred folk, to whom clean linen

  is not more necessary than a clean sweet-looking countenance, and a

  nicely got-up smile, for company.

  Here was Lady Kew's mistake. She wanted, for some reason, to drive Madame

  d'Ivry out of Baden; and thought there were no better means of effecting

  this object than by using the high hand, and practising those frowns upon

  the Duchess which had scared away so many other persons. But the Queen of

  Scots was resolute, too, and her band of courtiers fought stoutly round

  about her. Some of them could not pay their bills, and could not retreat:

  others had courage, and did not choose to fly. Instead of coaxing and

  soothing Madame d'Ivry, Madame de Kew thought by a brisk attack to rout

  and dislodge her. She began on almost the very first occasion when the

  ladies met. "I was so sorry to hear that Monsieur le Duc was ill at

  Bagneres, Madame la Duchesse," the old lady began on their very first

  meeting, after the usual salutations had taken place.

  "Madame la Comtesse is very kind to interest herself in Monsieur d'Ivry's

  health. Monsieur le Duc at his age is not disposed to travel. You, dear

  miladi, are more happy in being always able to retain the gout des

  voyages!"

  "I come to my family! my dear Duchess."

  "How charmed they must be to possess you! Miladi Anne, you must be

  inexpressibly consoled by the presence of a mother so tender! Permit me

  to present Madame la Comtesse de la Cruchecassee to Madame la Comtesse de

  Kew. Miladi is sister to that amiable Marquis of Steyne, whom you have

  known, Ambrosine! Madame la Baronne de Schlangenbad, Miladi Kew. Do you

  not see the resemblance to milor? These ladies have enjoyed the

  hospitalities--the splendours of Gaunt House. They were of those famous

  routs of which the charming Mistress Crawley, la semillante Becki, made

  part! How sad the Hotel de Gaunt must be under the present circumstances!

  Have you heard, miladi, of the charming Mistress Becki? Monsieur le Duc

  describes her as the most spirituelle Englishwoman he ever met." The

  Queen of Scots turns and whispers her lady of honour, and shrugs and taps

  her forehead. Lady Kew knows that Madame d'Ivry speaks of her nephew, the

  present Lord Steyne, who is not in his right mind. The Duchess looks

  round, and sees a friend in the distance whom she beckons. "Comtesse, you

  know already monsieur the Captain Blackball? He makes the delight of our

  society!" A dreadful man with a large cigar, a florid waistcoat, and

  billiards written on his countenance, swaggers forward at the Duchess's

  summons. The Countess of Kew has not gained much by her attack. She has

  been presented to Cruchecassee and Schlangenbad. She sees herself on the

  eve of becoming the acquaintance of Captain Blackball.

  "Permit me, Duchess, to choose my English friends at least for myself,"

  says Lady Kew, drumming her foot.

  "But, madam, assuredly! You do not love this good Monsieur de Blackball?

  Eh! the English manners are droll, pardon me for saying so. It is

  wonderful how proud you are as a nation, and how ashamed you are of your

  compatriots!"

  "There are some persons who are ashamed of nothing, Madame la Duchesse,"

  cries Lady Kew; losing her temper.

  "Is that gracieusete for me? How much goodness! This good Monsieur de

  Blackball is not very well bred; but, for an Englishman, he is not too

  bad. I have met with people who are more ill-bred than Englishmen in my

  travels."

  "And they are?" said Lady Anne, who had been in vain endeavouring to put

  an end to this colloquy.

  "Englishwomen, madam! I speak not for you. You are kind; you--you are too

  soft, dear Lady Anne, for a persecutor."

  The counsels of the worldly woman who governed and directed that branch

  of the Newcome family of whom it is our business to speak now for a

  little while, bore other results than those which the elderly lady

  desired and foresaw. Who can foresee everything and always? Not the

  wisest among us. When his Majesty Louis XIV., jockeyed his grandson on to

  the throne of Spain (founding thereby the present revered dynasty of that

  country), did he expect to peril his own, and bring all Europe about his

  royal ears? Could a late King of France, eager for the advantageous

  establishment of one of his darling sons, and anxious to procure a

  beautiful Spanish princess, with a crown and kingdom in reversion, for

  the simple and obedient youth, ever suppose that the welfare of his whole

  august race and reign would be upset by that smart speculation? We take

  only the most noble examples to illustrate the conduct of such a noble

  old personage as her ladyship of Kew, who brought a prodigious deal of

  trouble upon some of the innocent members of her family, whom no doubt

  she thought to better in life by her experienced guidance and undoubted

  worldly wisdom. We may be as deep as Jesuits, know the world ever so

  well, lay the best-ordered plans, and the profoundest combinations, and

  by a certain not unnatural turn of fate, we, and our plans and

  combinations, are sent flying before the wind. We may be as wise as Louis

  Philippe, that many-counselled Ulysses whom the respectable world admired

  so; and after years of patient scheming, and prodigies of skill, after

  coaxing, wheedling, doubling, bullying, wisdom, behold yet stronger

  powers interpose: and schemes, and skill and violence, are nought.

  Frank and Ethel, Lady Kew's grandchildren, were both the obedient

  subjects of this ancient despot: this imperious old Louis XIV. in a black

  front and a cap and ribbon, this scheming old Louis Philippe in tabinet;

  but their blood was good and their tempers high; and for all her bitting

  and driving, and the training of her mange, the generous young colts were

  hard to break. Ethel, at this time, was especially stubborn in training,

  rebellious to the whip, and wild under harness; and the way in which Lady


  Kew managed her won the admiration of her family: for it was a maxim

  among these folks that no one could manage Ethel but Lady Kew. Barnes

  said no one could manage his sister but his grandmother. He couldn't,

  that was certain. Mamma never tried, and indeed was so good-natured, that

  rather than ride the filly, she would put the saddle on her own back and

  let the filly ride her; no, there was no one but her ladyship capable of

  managing that girl, Barnes owned, who held Lady Kew in much respect and

  awe. "If the tightest hand were not kept on her, there's no knowing what

  she mightn't do," said her brother. "Ethel Newcome, by Jove, is capable

  of running away with the writing-master."

  After poor Jack Belsize's mishap and departure, Barnes's own bride showed

  no spirit at all, save one of placid contentment. She came at call and

  instantly, and went through whatever paces her owner demanded of her. She

  laughed whenever need was, simpered and smiled when spoken to, danced

  whenever she was asked; drove out at Barnes's side in Kew's phaeton, and

  received him certainly not with warmth, but with politeness and welcome.

  It is difficult to describe the scorn with which her sister-in-law

  regarded her. The sight of the patient timid little thing chafed Ethel,

  who was always more haughty and flighty and bold when in Clara's presence

  than at any other time. Her ladyship's brother, Captain Lord Viscount

  Rooster, before mentioned, joined the family party at this interesting

  juncture. My Lord Rooster found himself surprised, delighted, subjugated

  by Miss Newcome, her wit and spirit. "By Jove, she is a plucky one," his

  lordship exclaimed. "To dance with her is the best fun in life. How she

  pulls all the other girls to pieces, by Jove, and how splendidly she

  chaffs everybody! But," he added with the shrewdness and sense of humour

  which distinguished the young officer, "I'd rather dance with her than

  marry her--by a doosid long score--I don't envy you that part of the

  business, Kew, my boy." Lord Kew did not set himself up as a person to be

  envied. He thought his cousin beautiful: and with his grandmother, that

  she would make a very handsome Countess; and he thought the money which

  Lady Kew would give or leave to the young couple a very welcome addition

  to his means.

  On the next night, when there was a ball at the room, Miss Ethel chose to

  appear in a toilette the very grandest and finest which she had ever

  assumed, who was ordinarily exceedingly simple in her attire, and dressed

  below the mark of the rest of the world. Her clustering ringlets, her

  shining white shoulders, her splendid raiment (I believe indeed it was

  her court-dress which the young lady assumed) astonished all beholders.

  She ecrased all other beauties by her appearance; so much so that Madame

  d'Ivry's court could not but look, the men in admiration, the women in

  dislike, at this dazzling young creature. None of the countesses,

  duchesses, princesses, Russ, Spanish, Italian, were so fine or so

  handsome. There were some New York ladies at Baden as there are

  everywhere else in Europe now. Not even these were more magnificent

  than Miss Ethel. General Jeremiah J. Bung's lady owned that Miss Newcome

  was fit to appear in any party in Fourth Avenue. She was the only

  well-dressed English girl Mrs. Bung had seen in Europe. A young German

  Durchlaucht deigned to explain to his aide-de-camp how very handsome he

  thought Miss Newcome. All our acquaintances were of one mind. Mr. Jones

  of England pronounced her stunning; the admirable Captain Blackball

  examined her points with the skill of an amateur, and described them with

  agreeable frankness. Lord Rooster was charmed as he surveyed her, and

  complimented his late companion-in-arms on the possession of such a

  paragon. Only Lord Kew was not delighted--nor did Miss Ethel mean that he

  should be. She looked as splendid as Cinderella in the prince's palace.