The Newcomes

by William Makepeace Thackeray

many were retail shopkeepers. She even frequented the little branch

  Ebenezer, on Rosebury Green; and it was only by her charities and

  kindness at Christmas-time, that the Rev. Dr. Potter, the rector at

  Rosebury, knew her. The old clergy, you see, live with the county

  families. Good little Madame de Florac was pitied and patronised by the

  Doctor, treated with no little superciliousness by Mrs. Potter, and the

  young ladies, who only kept the first society. Even when her rich brother

  died, and she got her share of all that money Mrs. Potter said poor

  Madame de Florac did well in not trying to move out of her natural sphere

  (Mrs. P. was the daughter of a bankrupt hatter in London, and had herself

  been governess in a noble family, out of which she married Mr. P., who

  was private tutor). Madame de Florac did well, she said, not to endeavour

  to leave her natural sphere, and that The County never would receive her.

  Tom Potter, the rector's son, with whom I had the good fortune to be a

  fellow-student at Saint Boniface College, Oxbridge--a rattling, forward,

  and it must be owned, vulgar youth--asked me whether Florac was not a

  billiard-marker by profession? and was even so kind as to caution his

  sisters not to speak of billiards before the lady of Rosebury. Tom was

  surprised to learn that Monsieur Paul de Florac was a gentleman of

  lineage incomparably better than that of any, except two or three

  families in England (including your own, my dear and respected reader, of

  course, if you hold to your pedigree). But the truth is, heraldically

  speaking, that union with the Higgs of Manchester was the first

  misalliance which the Florac family had made for long long years. Not

  that I would wish for a moment to insinuate that any nobleman is equal to

  an English nobleman; nay, that an English snob, with a coat-of-arms

  bought yesterday, or stolen out of Edmonton, or a pedigree purchased from

  a peerage-maker, has not a right to look down upon any of your paltry

  foreign nobility.

  One day the carriage-and-four came in state from Newcome Park, with the

  well-known chaste liveries of the Newcomes, and drove up Rosebury Green,

  towards the parsonage gate, when Mrs. and the Miss Potters happened to be

  standing, cheapening fish from a donkey-man, with whom they were in the

  habit of dealing. The ladies were in their pokiest old head-gear and most

  dingy gowns, when they perceived the carriage approaching; and

  considering, of course, that the visit of the Park people was intended

  for them, dashed into the rectory to change their clothes, leaving

  Rowkins, the costermonger, in the very midst of the negotiation about the

  three mackerel. Mamma got that new bonnet out of the bandbox; Lizzy and

  Liddy skipped up to their bedroom, and brought out those dresses which

  they wore at the dejeuner at the Newcome Athenaeum, when Lord Leveret

  came down to lecture; into which they no sooner had hooked their lovely

  shoulders, than they reflected with terror that mamma had been altering

  one of papa's flannel waistcoats and had left it in the drawing-room,

  when they were called out by the song of Rowkins, and the appearance of

  his donkey's ears over the green gate of the rectory. To think of the

  Park people coming, and the drawing-room in that dreadful state!

  But when they came downstairs the Park people were not in the room--the

  woollen garment was still on the table (how they plunged it into the

  chiffonier!)--and the only visitor was Rowkins, the costermonger,

  grinning at the open French windows, with the three mackerel, and crying,

  "Make it sixpence, miss--don't say fippens, maam, to a pore fellow that

  has a wife and family." So that the young ladies had to cry--"Impudence!"

  "Get away, you vulgar insolent creature!--Go round, sir, to the back

  door!" "How dare you?" and the like; fearing lest Lady Anne Newcome, and

  Young Ethel, and Barnes should enter in the midst of this ignoble

  controversy.

  They never came at all--those Park people. How very odd! They passed the

  rectory gate; they drove on to Madame de Florac's lodge. They went in.

  They stayed for half an hour; the horses driving round and round the

  gravel road before the house; and Mrs. Potter and the girls speedily

  going to the upper chambers, and looking out of the room where the maids

  slept, saw Lady Anne, Ethel, and Barnes walking with Madame de Florac,

  going into the conservatories, issuing thence with MacWhirter, the

  gardener, bearing huge bunches of grapes and large fasces of flowers;

  they saw Barnes talking in the most respectful manner to Madame de

  Florac: and when they went downstairs and had their work before them--

  Liddy her gilt music-book, Lizzy her embroidered altar-cloth, mamma her

  scarlet cloak for one of the old women--they had the agony of seeing the

  barouche over the railings whisk by, with the Park people inside, and

  Barnes driving the four horses.

  It was on that day when Barnes had determined to take up Madame de

  Florac; when he was bent upon reconciling her to her husband. In spite of

  all Mrs. Potter's predictions, the county families did come and visit the

  manufacturer's daughter; and when Madame de Florac became Madame la

  Princesse de Moncontour, when it was announced that she was coming to

  stay at Rosebury for Christmas, I leave you to imagine whether the

  circumstance was or was not mentioned in the Newcome Sentinel and the

  Newcome Independent; and whether Rev. G. Potter, D.D., and Mrs. Potter

  did or did not call on the Prince and Princess. I leave you to imagine

  whether the lady did or did not inspect all the alterations which

  Vineer's people from Newcome were making at Rosebury House--the chaste

  yellow satin and gold of the drawing-room--the carved oak for the

  dining-room--the chintz for the bedrooms--the Princess's apartment--the

  Prince's apartment--the guests' apartments--the smoking-room, gracious

  goodness!--the stables (these were under Tom Potter's superintendence),

  "and I'm finished," says he one day, "if here doesn't come a

  billiard-table!"

  The house was most comfortably and snugly appointed from top to bottom;

  and thus it will be seen that Mr. and Mrs. Pendennis were likely to be in

  very good quarters for Christmas of 184-.

  Tom Potter was so kind as to call on me two days after our arrival; and

  to greet me in the Princess's pew at church on the previous day. Before

  desiring to be introduced to my wife, he requested me to present him to

  my friend the Prince. He called him your Highness. His Highness, who had

  behaved with exemplary gravity, save once when he shrieked an "ah!" as

  Miss Liddy led off the children in the organ-loft in a hymn, and the

  whole pack went woefully out of tune, complimented Monsieur Tom on the

  sermon of monsieur his father. Tom walked with us to Rosebury lodge-gate.

  "Will you not come in, and make a party of billiard with me?" says His

  Highness. "Ah Pardon! I forgot, you do not play the billiard the Sunday!"

  "Any other day, Prince, I shall be delighted," says Tom; and squeezed His

  Highness's hand tenderly at parting. "Your comrade of college was he?"

  as
ks Florac. "My dear, what men are these comrades of college! What men

  are you English! My word of honour, there are some of them here--if I

  were to say to them wax my boots, they would take them and wax them!

  Didst thou see how the Reverend eyed us during the sermon? He regarded us

  over his book, my word of honour!"

  Madame de Florac said simply, she wished the Prince would go and hear Mr.

  Jacob at the Ebenezer. Mr. Potter was not a good preacher, certainly.

  "Savez-vows qu'elle est furieusement belle, la fille du Reverend?"

  whispered His Highness to me. "I have made eyes at her during the sermon.

  They will be of pretty neighbours these meess!" and Paul looked

  unutterably roguish and victorious as he spoke. To my wife, I am bound to

  say, Monsieur de Moncontour showed a courtesy, a respect and kindness,

  that could not be exceeded. He admired her. He paid her compliments

  innumerable, and gave me I am sure sincere congratulations at possessing

  such a treasure. I do not think he doubted about his power of conquering

  her, or any other of the daughters of women. But I was the friend of his

  misfortunes--his guest; and he spared me.

  I have seen nothing more amusing, odd, and pleasant than Florac at this

  time of his prosperity. We arrived, as this veracious chronicle has

  already asserted, on a Saturday evening. We were conducted to our most

  comfortable apartments; with crackling fires blazing on the hearths, and

  every warmth of welcome. Florac expanded and beamed with good-nature. He

  shook me many times by the hand; he patted me; he called me his good--his

  brave.

  He cried to his maitre d'hotel, "Frederic, remember monsieur is master

  here! Run before his orders. Prostrate thyself to him. He was good to me

  in the days of my misfortune. Hearest thou, Frederic? See that everything

  be done for Monsieur Pendennis--for madame sa charmante lady--for her

  angelic infant, and the bonne. None of thy garrison tricks with that

  young person, Frederic! vieux scelerat! Garde-toi de la, Frederic; si

  non, je t'envoie a Botani Bay; je te traduis devant le Lord Mare!"

  "En Angleterre je me fais Anglais, vois-tu, mon ami," continued the

  Prince. "Demain c'est Sunday, et tu vas voir! I hear the bell, dress

  thyself for the dinner--my friend!"; Here there was another squeeze of

  both hands from the good-natured fellow. "It do good to my art to ave you

  in my ouse! Heuh!" He hugged his guest; he had tears in his eyes as he

  performed this droll, this kind embrace. Not less kind in her way, though

  less expensive and embracive, was Madame de Moncontour to my wife, as I

  found on comparing notes with that young woman, when the day's

  hospitalities were ended. The little Princess trotted from bedchamber to

  nursery to see that everything was made comfortable for her guests. She

  sate and saw the child washed and put to bed. She had never beheld such a

  little angel. She brought it a fine toy to play with. She and her grim

  old maid frightened the little creature at first, but it was very

  speedily reconciled to their countenances. She was in the nursery almost

  as early as the child's mother. "Ah!" sighed the poor little woman, "how

  happy you must be to have one!" In fine, my wife was quite overcome by

  her goodness and welcome.

  Sunday morning arrived in the course of time, and then Florac appeared as

  a most wonderful Briton indeed! He wore top-boots and buckskins; and

  after breakfast, when we went to church, a white great-coat with a little

  cape, in which garment he felt that his similarity to an English

  gentleman was perfect. In conversation with his grooms and servants he

  swore freely,--not that he was accustomed to employ oaths in his own

  private talk, but he thought the employment of these expletives necessary

  as an English country gentleman. He never dined without a roast-beef, and

  insisted that the piece of meat should be bleeding, "as you love it, you

  others." He got up boxing-matches: and kept birds for combats of cock. He

  assumed the sporting language with admirable enthusiasm--drove over to

  cover with a steppere--rode across countri like a good one--was splendid

  in the hunting-field in his velvet cap and Napoleon boots, and made the

  Hunt welcome at Rosebury where his good-natured little wife was as kind

  to the gentlemen in scarlet as she used to be of old to the stout

  Dissenting gentlemen in black, who sang hymns and spake sermons on her

  lawn. These folks, scared at the change which had taken place in the

  little Princess's habits of life, lamented her falling away: but in the

  county she and her husband got a great popularity, and in Newcome town

  itself they were not less liked, for her benefactions were unceasing, and

  Paul's affability the theme of all praise. The Newcome Independent and

  the Newcome Sentinel both paid him compliments; the former journal

  contrasting his behaviour with that of Sir Barnes, their member. Florac's

  pleasure was to drive his Princess with four horses into Newcome. He

  called his carriage his "trappe," his "drague." The street-boys cheered

  and hurrayed the Prince as he passed through the town. One haberdasher

  had a yellow stock called the "Moncontour" displayed in his windows;

  another had a pink one marked "The Princely," and as such recommended it

  to the young Newcome gents.

  The drague conveyed us once to the neighbouring house of Newcome, whither

  my wife accompanied Madame de Moncontour at that lady's own request, to

  whom Laura very properly did not think fit to confide her antipathy for

  Lady Clara Newcome. Coming away from a great house, how often she and I,

  egotistical philosophers, thanked our fates that our own home was a small

  one! How long will great houses last in this world? Do not their owners

  now prefer a lodging at Brighton, or a little entresol on the Boulevard,

  to the solitary ancestral palace in a park barred round with snow? We

  were as glad to get out of Newcome as out of a prison. My wife and our

  hostess skipped into the carriage, and began to talk freely as the

  lodge-gates closed after us. Would we be lords of such a place under the

  penalty of living in it? We agreed that the little angle of earth called

  Fairoaks was dearer to us than the clumsy Newcome-pile of Tudor masonry.

  The house had been fitted up in the time of George IV. and the

  quasi-Gothic revival. We were made to pass through Gothic dining-rooms,

  where there was now no hospitality,--Gothic drawing-rooms shrouded in

  brown hollands, to one little room at the end of the dusky suite, where

  Lady Clara sate alone, or in the company of the nurses and children. The

  blank gloom of the place had fallen upon the poor lady. Even when my wife

  talked about children (good-natured Madame de Moncontour vaunting ours as

  a prodigy) Lady Clara did not brighten up! Her pair of young ones was

  exhibited and withdrawn. A something weighed upon the woman. We talked

  about Ethel's marriage. She said it was fixed for the new year, she

  believed. She did not know whether Glenlivat had been very handsomely

  fitted up. She had not seen Lord Farintosh's house in London. Sir Barnes

  came down once--twi
ce--of a Saturday sometimes, for three or four days to

  hunt, to amuse himself, as all men do she supposed. She did not know when

  he was coming again. She rang languidly when we rose to take leave, and

  sank back on her sofa, where lay a heap of French novels. "She has chosen

  some pretty books," says Paul, as we drove through the sombre avenues

  through the grey park, mists lying about the melancholy ornamental

  waters, dingy herds of huddled sheep speckling the grass here and there;

  no smoke rising up from the great stacks of chimneys of the building we

  were leaving behind us, save one little feeble thread of white which we

  knew came from the fire by which the lonely mistress of Newcome was

  seated. "Ouf!" cries Florac, playing his whip, as the lodge-gates closed

  on us, and his team of horses rattled merrily along the road, "what a

  blessing it is to be out of that vault of a place! There is something

  fatal in this house--in this woman. One smells misfortune there."

  The hotel which our friend Florac patronised on occasion of his visits to

  Newcome was the King's Arms, and it happened, one day, as we entered that

  place of entertainment in company, that a visitor of the house was

  issuing through the hall, to whom Florac seemed as if he would administer

  one of his customary embraces, and to whom the Prince called out "Jack,"

  with great warmth and kindness as he ran towards the stranger.

  Jack did not appear to be particularly well pleased on beholding us; he

  rather retreated from before the Frenchman's advances.

  "My dear Jack, my good, my brave Ighgate! I am delighted to see you!"

  Florac continues, regardless of the stranger's reception, or of the

  landlord's looks towards us, who was bowing the Prince into his very best

  room.

  "How do you do, Monsieur de Florac?" growls the new comer, surlily; and

  was for moving on after this brief salutation; but having a second

  thought seemingly, turned back and followed Florac into the apartment

  where our host conducted us. "A la bonne heure!" Florac renewed his

  cordial greetings to Lord Highgate. "I knew not, mon bon, what fly had

  stung you," says he to my lord. The landlord, rubbing his hands, smirking

  and bowing, was anxious to know whether the Prince would take anything

  after his drive. As the Prince's attendant and friend, the lustre of his

  reception partially illuminated me. When the chief was not by, I was

  treated with great attention (mingled with a certain degree of

  familiarity) by my landlord.

  Lord Highgate waited until Mr. Taplow was out of the room; and then said

  to Florac, "Don't call me by my name here, please, Florac, I am here

  incog."

  "Plait-il?" asks Florac. "Where is incog.?" He laughed when the word was

  interpreted to him. Lord Highgate had turned to me. "There was no

  rudeness, you understand, intended, Mr. Pendennis, but I am down here on

  some business, and don't care to wear the handle to my name. Fellows work

  it so, don't you understand? never leave you at rest in a country town--

  that sort of thing. Heard of our friend Clive lately?"

  "Whether you ave andle or no andle, Jack, you are always the bien venu to

  me. What is thy affair? Old monster! I wager----"

  "No, no, no such nonsense," says Jack, rather eagerly. "I give you my

  honour, I--I want to--to raise a sum of money--that is, to invest some in

  a speculation down here--deuced good the speculations down here; and, by

  the way, if the landlord asks you, I'm Mr. Harris--I'm a civil engineer--

  I'm waiting for the arrival of the Canada at Liverpool from America, and

  very uneasy about my brother who is on board."

  "What does he recount to us there? Keep these stories for the landlord,

  Jack; to us 'tis not the pain to lie. My good Mr. Harris, why have we not

  seen you at Rosebury? The Princess will scold me if you do not come; and

  you must bring your dear brother when he arrive too. Do you hear?" The