Part 11

"It was through his influence with the mother of the king," Mr. Dapper replied. "He had a great deal to say about the king's education. It was Bute who induced George II. to appoint Andrew Stone to have charge of the young prince. Then the fat was in the fire. The Bishop of Norwich accused Stone of being a Jacobite, and the quarrel became hot--so sharp that the bishop entered the schoolroom to have it out with Master Stone. Now I suppose, my dear rector, you would have staked your money on the bishop, on the theory that the church militant should also be the church triumphant."

"Possibly, if I were in the habit of laying wagers," the rector replied.

"I certainly should have done so, reverend sir, but I should have lost my money," continued Mr. Dapper; "for Mr. Stone was plucky, used his fists beautifully, and gave it to my lord the bishop right between the eyes. The bishop was quite gamey, though, and aimed a blow at Stone's nose, but finally got shoved out of the room, greatly to his mortification. He couldn't let the matter drop, and so accused Stone of being drunk. The matter finally got into Parliament where there was quite a row about it. Such were the auspices under which our good sovereign was educated to administer the affairs of the realm. His mother wanted to make him pious. She would not allow him to associate with other boys because they would corrupt his morals. Lord Bute advised the princess dowager to keep the prince tied to her apron strings, and succeeded."

"Lord Bute," Mr. Adams responded, "is very much disliked in the Colonies. When he was at the head of the ministry, he was hung in effigy on the Liberty Tree."

"So he was in London," Mr. Dapper replied. "Your detestation of him cannot be greater than it is in England. No one can quite understand how John Stuart made his way up to power. He was a poor Scotsman from the Frith of Clyde. He went to school at Eton and also at Cambridge, then came to London, hired a piece of land out a little way from the city, and raised peppermint, camomile, and other simples for medicine. He had a love for private theatricals, had shapely legs and liked to show them. One evening the Prince of Wales saw his legs, and, taking a fancy to the owner, told him to make himself at home in Leicester House. That was enough for John Stuart. Having got a foothold, he made himself useful to Fred, and especially to the princess dowager. George II. was getting on in years and irritable. The old king took it upon himself to pick out a wife for the prince, selecting the daughter of Charles, Duke of Brunswick-Wolfenbüttel; but the prince said he wasn't going to be Wolfenbuttled by his grandsire. Just what he meant by it no one knows, as the word is not to be found in Doctor Johnson's big dictionary."

"Shall I help you to a bit of canvasback, my lord?" Mrs. Newville asked, interrupting the narrative.

"Canvasback! What may it be? Really, you have most astonishing things to eat over here," Lord Upperton replied.

Mrs. Newville explained that it was a duck, and that it was regarded as a delicacy.

"I never ate anything so delicious," said Upperton.

Mr. Dapper also praised it.

"Was the marriage of our king and queen a love-match?" Miss Chanson inquired.

"Well, hardly, at the beginning," said Mr. Dapper. "When the prince was eighteen, he fell in love with Lady Sarah Lennox, daughter of the Duke of Richmond. She was seventeen, beautiful, and attractive. She knew how to display her charms to the best advantage, by going out with the haymakers on fine summer mornings to wander in the meadows among the daisies, wearing a fancy costume. No wonder the prince, looking from the windows of Holland House, thought it a delightful exhibition of Arcadian simplicity and made haste to chat with her. But love-making between the future king and a subject was not in accordance with the princess dowager's ideas, and so Earl Bute found it convenient to appear upon the scene,--a gentle hint that there was to be no more love-making. Their flirtations would make a long story though, for Lord Newbottle was in love with Lady Sarah and jealous of the prince, which made it all the more interesting. Bute and the princess dowager put their heads together, and sent Colonel Graham on a prospecting tour among the German principalities. He sent back word that the daughter of the Duke of Mecklenburg-Strelitz would make a good wife for his royal highness, and he judged well, for I am sure you all love our Sophia Charlotte."

"Most certainly, and we would emulate her virtues," said Mrs. Adams.

Mr. Newville proposed the health of the queen.

Their glasses drained, Mr. Dapper went on:--

"Lord Harcourt was sent as ambassador to negotiate a marriage, not with Sophia Charlotte, but with her brother, the duke."

"Was not our queen consulted in regard to the matter?" Ruth asked.

"Not at all. She knew very little about the world; never had been a dozen miles from home, never even had sat at the duke's table. She was a simple-minded little girl who gave the chickens their dough and gathered nosegays from her flower-garden. You can imagine, ladies, that she hardly knew what to make of it when told that an ambassador from England had arrived and wanted to see her. The duke told her to put on her best gown, mind what Harcourt said, and not be a baby. Suddenly the folding-doors leading to the ducal chamber opened, and there stood the ambassador. 'You are to be married to him by proxy, and be queen of England,' said the duke, which so surprised the poor girl that she nearly fainted. The ceremony over, Harcourt presented her with a necklace of diamonds. You see, ladies, it is almost the story of Cinderella over again!"

"It is really romantic," responded Miss Milford.

"I would not be married to one whom I never had seen," exclaimed Ruth.

"A princess, Miss Newville, cannot always do as she would. She may be compelled to marry against her will," said Lord Upperton.

"I would not," Ruth replied.

"Not if the country required it?" Lord Upperton asked.

"No, my lord; and I am glad I am not a princess."

"Bravely spoken. Ladies and gentlemen, let us drink to the maiden who, though not of the blood royal, is yet a princess," said Mr. Dapper.

"Hear! hear!" exclaimed the admiral, thumping the table.

The company gazed admiringly at Ruth, peerless in her beauty, the warm blood suffusing her cheeks.

"I understand that our queen assumed the position of royalty with much grace," Mrs. Adams remarked.

"With charming simplicity, madam," responded Mr. Dapper. "She landed at Harwich, and had an ovation all the way to London. People hurrahed, bells rang, and cannon thundered. The poor girl was terribly frightened. The thought of meeting a husband whom she had never seen unstrung her nerves. The Duchess of Hamilton laughed at her, but it was a hot shot the queen let fly; she said: 'You have been married twice to husbands of your own choosing, but poor me must marry a man whom I never have seen.'"

"Bravo! that raked the quarter-deck," exclaimed the admiral.

"How did the king receive her?" Ruth inquired.

"When she stepped from the coach she knelt at his feet; he gave her a kiss, and led her into the palace."

"Very gallant on the part of the king; fitting and humble the action of the queen," said the rector.

"I would not have got down on my knees to him," said Ruth.

"May I ask why Miss Newville would not have knelt to her future husband and sovereign, had she been Princess Sophia?" the rector asked.

"Because it was an acknowledgement at the outset that she was not his equal. She abased herself by taking an inferior position. In the days of chivalry, men knelt to women. The princess did not leave her happy home to be a subject of King George; but to be his wife to stand by his side, and not crouch at his feet."

"Hurrah! That's a whole broadside. She's sweeping your quarter-deck," shouted the admiral.

The rector grew red in the face.

"It is recorded in the Holy Scriptures, Miss Newville, that wives must 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.