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The Birtwhistles of Craven and Galloway |
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Appendix 3 cont. |
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The gleaming of the river
which his first trout-basket was filled – and now- certainly now he could see
the grassy lane where his truant walks had been so often enjoyed. That green
lane! – how often in torrid heat of his eastern pavilion, he had wished to walk
again down its narrow path under the trees that grew among the hedgerow
mounds, and to see, through their knit branches, the white school-house walls
and the smoke of the village below! – All these precious objects were almost
within reach- he had counted every mile-stone, yet they did not appear. At
length the guard blew his horn, and De Romille leaped upon the roof to seize
the first glimpse. His vehicle turned through a little turnpike into a range
of slated huts, which at different times and with different intentions had
grown into a street. Some presented a back-wall creviced into windows half
filled with oiled paper or clumps of turf; others thrust a pent-house and an
ill hung sign-post towards the road; which all poured forth groupes of
mothers gaudily dressed and ragged children. “Yon’s ould castle and
market-cross”, said the sturdy guard, pointing to the troop of
yeomen-cavalry, sheltering themselves under the pediment of a rough black
building, which, as it could protect only the horses’ heads that met under
it, obliged the riders to sit in the attitude which so diverted Frederic of
Prussia when Attorney-general Dunning threw his arms round his charger’s neck
at a review. “Take
care of your wheels! Apply your anti-attrition!” exclaimed a sharp visaged
lean man, as the coach rolled down its narrow road- “Thanks to the
improvements of this age, it will not be long, I hope, before the ancient
manipede, vulgarly called a wheel-barrow, will be adapted to the politest
passengers: and the superior animal will have due precedence, instead of
sitting behind one, two, three or four irrational ones” . “I
don’t see the justice of your conclusion”, said his companion on the roof-
“if a man guides the wheel-barrow- but perhaps you mean the inferior sex to
wheel us”. “Which
has happened too often”, returned the first speaker – “however, that, like
other defects in the old system, may be corrected; and I expect to convince
this town, when I have established my academy in it, that the teachers of
youth have been in a mistake fourteen centuries. Sir, what do we want with
antiquities, histories, and other men’s reflections?- When we have forgotten
every thing, then, and not till then, we shall begin afresh, without
prejudices and presuppositions”. “Pray
sir”, said the plain man by his side “ of what science have I the honour of
seeing in a professor?”. “Of none singly, my good sir. I might call myself an omnagogue, or teacher of all things to all men, for such I have been; but am now what is more profitable and fashionable: I come in short to give the last stroke and |
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polish to Lady Ann De
Clifford’s education – the art of forgetting gracefully”. “Have
you any objection”, resumed the stranger, with a sly glance at his meagre
person, “to be styled a Pangogue? – equally dignified in sound as a Greek
compound, and liable to raise some pleasant ideas in English”. “Nothing
could be more appropriate!- for, in plain truth, I have brought down the last
Almanac des Gourmands as an addition to my pupil’s library; and if, as I
judge from your portfolio, you are an ambulating artist, I can commend a
passport to the pantry of her father’s castle, and, secondly, to his gallery
of portraits. I see the organ of physiognomy in your skull: and if you know
any thing of Gall and Spurzheim, you will see a most amusing variety of
frontispieces” ( a reference to the work of Gall and Spurzheim of 1817 on phrenology). “I see one now”, replied his travelling companion, as they alighted at the massy iron gates of hug portcullis flanked by towers of venerable size. “Can this be Castle Romille?” said the stranger, as after a few introductory whispers, he followed a laced butler and a damsel in pink slippers over the matted hall into the picture-gallery. “Here”, said his guide “you may form an appendix to Lavater’s folio volume. Look at that head – its original belongs to the present Lord De Romille, and has, as you see, the organ of constructiveness close to the left ear. He had toiled thirty years under a burning sun to rest at last among the escutcheons of his ancesters, in this castle. What will he find here? His farmhouses changed into villas with virandas, his tapestry in crimson velvet embossed with gold, and his hospitable hall into a concert-room- full of fine sounds, but nothing substantial. Look at the splendid jars, the festooned draperies, the silver tea- equipage beyond the door! Are those my lady’s? – No my lady’s maid’s : and that portrait, loaded with gold wreaths, is the modern Lady Ann De Clifford, heiress to these domains. Her hair-dresser has only two hundred a year for varying the style of her head-dresses, and that fillet was actually braided from the model of the ancient Lady Ann’s. Observe in her glassy eye and pale yellow hair, how well the capability of forgetfulness is expressed in nature! She has the true emptiness of skull which renders a woman fit for my pupil. She will learn in two days to pass her harp and drop her pencil with an air of ignorance as completely natural as if she had not cost her father six thousand pounds in music and drawing- masters. She will soon forget how to write, and employ an agent to speak for her. This will be the perfection of polite forgetfulness; and I intend to propose an accomplished young person to reside with her as a sort of living opera-glass, a moveable |
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