Chapter LVI: Georgy is Made a Gentleman

by William Makepeace Thackeray

　　Georgy Osborne was now fairly established in hisgrandfather's mansion in Russell Square, occupant of hisfather's room in the house and heir apparent of all thesplendours there. The good looks, gallant bearing, andgentlemanlike appearance of the boy won the grandsire'sheart for him. Mr. Osborne was as proud of him as everhe had been of the elder George.

　　The child had many more luxuries and indulgences thanhad been awarded his father. Osborne's commerce hadprospered greatly of late years. His wealth andimportance in the City had very much increased. He hadbeen glad enough in former days to put the elder Georgeto a good private school; and a commission in the armyfor his son had been a source of no small pride tohim; for little George and his future prospects the oldman looked much higher. He would make a gentlemanof the little chap, was Mr. Osborne's constant sayingregarding little Georgy. He saw him in his mind's eye, acollegian, a Parliament man, a Baronet, perhaps. Theold man thought he would die contented if he could seehis grandson in a fair way to such honours. He wouldhave none but a tip-top college man to educate him--none of your quacks and pretenders--no, no. A few yearsbefore, he used to be savage, and inveigh against allparsons, scholars, and the like declaring that they werea pack of humbugs, and quacks that weren't fit to gettheir living but by grinding Latin and Greek, and a setof supercilious dogs that pretended to look down uponBritish merchants and gentlemen, who could buy up halfa hundred of 'em. He would mourn now, in a verysolemn manner, that his own education had been neglected,and repeatedly point out, in pompous orations to Georgy,the necessity and excellence of classical acquirements.

　　When they met at dinner the grandsire used to askthe lad what he had been reading during the day, andwas greatly interested at the report the boy gave of hisown studies, pretending to understand little Georgewhen he spoke regarding them. He made a hundredblunders and showed his ignorance many a time. It did notincrease the respect which the child had for his senior.A quick brain and a better education elsewhere showedthe boy very soon that his grandsire was a dullard, andhe began accordingly to command him and to look downupon him; for his previous education, humble andcontracted as it had been, had made a much bettergentleman of Georgy than any plans of his grandfather couldmake him. He had been brought up by a kind, weak,and tender woman, who had no pride about anythingbut about him, and whose heart was so pure and whosebearing was so meek and humble that she could not butneeds be a true lady. She busied herself in gentle officesand quiet duties; if she never said brilliant things, shenever spoke or thought unkind ones; guileless and artless,loving and pure, indeed how could our poor little Ameliabe other than a real gentlewoman!

　　Young Georgy lorded over this soft and yieldingnature; and the contrast of its simplicity and delicacy withthe coarse pomposity of the dull old man with whomhe next came in contact made him lord over the lattertoo. If he had been a Prince Royal he could not havebeen better brought up to think well of himself.

　　Whilst his mother was yearning after him at home, andI do believe every hour of the day, and during mosthours of the sad lonely nights, thinking of him, this younggentleman had a number of pleasures and consolationsadministered to him, which made him for his part bearthe separation from Amelia very easily. Little boys whocry when they are going to school cry because theyare going to a very uncomfortable place. It is only afew who weep from sheer affection. When you thinkthat the eyes of your childhood dried at the sight of apiece of gingerbread, and that a plum cake was acompensation for the agony of parting with your mammaand sisters, oh my friend and brother, you need not betoo confident of your own fine feelings.

　　Well, then, Master George Osborne had every comfortand luxury that a wealthy and lavish old grandfatherthought fit to provide. The coachman was instructed topurchase for him the handsomest pony which could bebought for money, and on this George was taught toride, first at a riding-school, whence, after havingperformed satisfactorily without stirrups, and over theleaping-bar, he was conducted through the New Road toRegent's Park, and then to Hyde Park, where he rodein state with Martin the coachman behind him. OldOsborne, who took matters more easily in the City now,where he left his affairs to his junior partners, wouldoften ride out with Miss O. in the same fashionable direction.As little Georgy came cantering up with his dandifiedair and his heels down, his grandfather would nudgethe lad's aunt and say, "Look, Miss O." And he wouldlaugh, and his face would grow red with pleasure, ashe nodded out of the window to the boy, as the groomsaluted the carriage, and the footman saluted MasterGeorge. Here too his aunt, Mrs. Frederick Bullock(whose chariot might daily be seen in the Ring, withbullocks or emblazoned on the panels and harness, andthree pasty-faced little Bullocks, covered with cockadesand feathers, staring from the windows) Mrs. FrederickBullock, I say, flung glances of the bitterest hatred atthe little upstart as he rode by with his hand on his sideand his hat on one ear, as proud as a lord.

　　Though he was scarcely eleven years of age, MasterGeorge wore straps and the most beautiful little bootslike a man. He had gilt spurs, and a gold-headed whip,and a fine pin in his handkerchief, and the neatest littlekid gloves which Lamb's Conduit Street could furnish.His mother had given him a couple of neckcloths, andcarefully hemmed and made some little shirts for him;but when her Eli came to see the widow, they werereplaced by much finer linen. He had little jewelled buttonsin the lawn shirt fronts. Her humble presents had been putaside--I believe Miss Osborne had given them to thecoachman's boy. Amelia tried to think she was pleasedat the change. Indeed, she was happy and charmed tosee the boy looking so beautiful.

　　She had had a little black profile of him done for ashilling, and this was hung up by the side of anotherportrait over her bed. One day the boy came on hisaccustomed visit, galloping down the little street atBrompton, and bringing, as usual, all the inhabitants to thewindows to admire his splendour, and with great eagernessand a look of triumph in his face, he pulled a caseout of his great-coat--it was a natty white great-coat,with a cape and a velvet collar--pulled out a redmorocco case, which he gave her.

　　"I bought it with my own money, Mamma," he said."I thought you'd like it."

　　Amelia opened the case, and giving a little cry ofdelighted affection, seized the boy and embraced him ahundred times. It was a miniature-of himself, very prettilydone (though not half handsome enough, we may besure, the widow thought). His grandfather had wishedto have a picture of him by an artist whose works,exhibited in a shop-window, in Southampton Row, hadcaught the old gentleman's eye; and George, who hadplenty of money, bethought him of asking the painterhow much a copy of the little portrait would cost, sayingthat he would pay for it out of his own money andthat he wanted to give it to his mother. The pleasedpainter executed it for a small price, and old Osbornehimself, when he heard of the incident, growled out hissatisfaction and gave the boy twice as many sovereignsas he paid for the miniature.

　　But what was the grandfather's pleasure compared toAmelia's ecstacy? That proof of the boy's affectioncharmed her so that she thought no child in the worldwas like hers for goodness. For long weeks after, thethought of his love made her happy. She slept betterwith the picture under her pillow, and how many manytimes did she kiss it and weep and pray over it! Asmall kindness from those she loved made that timidheart grateful. Since her parting with George she had hadno such joy and consolation.

　　At his new home Master George ruled like a lord;at dinner he invited the ladies to drink wine with theutmost coolness, and took off his champagne in a waywhich charmed his old grandfather. "Look at him," theold man would say, nudging his neighbour with adelighted purple face, "did you ever see such a chap?Lord, Lord! he'll be ordering a dressing-case next, andrazors to shave with; I'm blessed if he won't."

　　The antics of the lad did not, however, delight Mr.Osborne's friends so much as they pleased the oldgentleman. It gave Mr. Justice Coffin no pleasure to hearGeorgy cut into the conversation and spoil his stories.Colonel Fogey was not interested in seeing the little boyhalf tipsy. Mr. Sergeant Toffy's lady felt no particulargratitude, when, with a twist of his elbow, he tilted aglass of port-wine over her yellow satin and laughed atthe disaster; nor was she better pleased, although oldOsborne was highly delighted, when Georgy "whopped"her third boy (a young gentleman a year older thanGeorgy, and by chance home for the holidays from Dr.Tickleus's at Ealing School) in Russell Square. George'sgrandfather gave the boy a couple of sovereigns for thatfeat and promised to reward him further for every boyabove his own size and age whom he whopped in asimilar manner. It is difficult to say what good the old mansaw in these combats; he had a vague notion thatquarrelling made boys hardy, and that tyranny was a usefulaccomplishment for them to learn. English youth havebeen so educated time out of mind, and we havehundreds of thousands of apologists and admirers ofinjustice, misery, and brutality, as perpetrated amongchildren. Flushed with praise and victory over Master Toffy,George wished naturally to pursue his conquests further,and one day as he was strutting about in prodigiouslydandified new clothes, near St. Pancras, and a youngbaker's boy made sarcastic comments upon his appearance,the youthful patrician pulled off his dandy jacketwith great spirit, and giving it in charge to the friendwho accompanied him (Master Todd, of Great CoramStreet, Russell Square, son of the junior partner of thehouse of Osborne and Co.), George tried to whop thelittle baker. But the chances of war were unfavourablethis time, and the little baker whopped Georgy, whocame home with a rueful black eye and all his fine shirtfrill dabbled with the claret drawn from his own littlenose. He told his grandfather that he had been incombat with a giant, and frightened his poor mother atBrompton with long, and by no means authentic,accounts of the battle.

　　This young Todd, of Coram Street, Russell Square,was Master George's great friend and admirer. They bothhad a taste for painting theatrical characters; forhardbake and raspberry tarts; for sliding and skating in theRegent's Park and the Serpentine, when the weatherpermitted; for going to the play, whither they were oftenconducted, by Mr. Osborne's orders, by Rowson, MasterGeorge's appointed body-servant, with whom they sat ingreat comfort in the pit.

　　In the company of this gentleman they visited all theprincipal theatres of the metropolis; knew the names ofall the actors from Drury Lane to Sadler's Wells; andperformed, indeed, many of the plays to the Todd familyand their youthful friends, with West's famous characters,on their pasteboard theatre. Rowson, the footman, whowas of a generous disposition, would not unfrequently,when in cash, treat his young master to oysters afterthe play, and to a glass of rum-shrub for a night-cap.We may be pretty certain that Mr. Rowson profited inhis turn by his young master's liberality and gratitudefor the pleasures to which the footman inducted him.

　　A famous tailor from the West End of the town--Mr. Osborne would have none of your City or Holbornbunglers, he said, for the boy (though a City tailor wasgood enough for him)--was summoned to ornament littleGeorge's person, and was told to spare no expense in sodoing. So, Mr. Woolsey, of Conduit Street, gave a looseto his imagination and sent the child home fancy trousers,fancy waistcoats, and fancy jackets enough to furnish aschool of little dandies. Georgy had little whitewaistcoats for evening parties, and little cut velvet waistcoatsfor dinners, and a dear little darling shawl dressing-gown,for all the world like a little man. He dressed for dinnerevery day, "like a regular West End swell," as hisgrandfather remarked; one of the domestics was affected tohis special service, attended him at his toilette,answered his bell, and brought him his letters always on asilver tray.

　　Georgy, after breakfast, would sit in the arm-chair inthe dining-room and read the Morning Post, just like agrown-up man. "How he du dam and swear," theservants would cry, delighted at his precocity. Those whoremembered the Captain his father, declared MasterGeorge was his Pa, every inch of him. He made the houselively by his activity, his imperiousness, his scolding, andhis good-nature.

　　George's education was confided to a neighbouringscholar and private pedagogue who "prepared youngnoblemen and gentlemen for the Universities, the senate,and the learned professions: whose system did notembrace the degrading corporal severities still practised atthe ancient places of education, and in whose family thepupils would find the elegances of refined society andthe confidence and affection of a home." It was in thisway that the Reverend Lawrence Veal of Hart Street,Bloomsbury, and domestic Chaplain to the Earl ofBareacres, strove with Mrs. Veal his wife to entice pupils.

　　By thus advertising and pushing sedulously, thedomestic Chaplain and his Lady generally succeeded inhaving one or two scholars by them--who paid a highfigure and were thought to be in uncommonly comfortablequarters. There was a large West Indian, whomnobody came to see, with a mahogany complexion, a woollyhead, and an exceedingly dandyfied appearance; therewas another hulking boy of three-and-twenty whoseeducation had been neglected and whom Mr. and Mrs. Vealwere to introduce into the polite world; there were twosons of Colonel Bangles of the East India Company'sService: these four sat down to dinner at Mrs. Veal'sgenteel board, when Georgy was introduced to herestablishment.

　　Georgy was, like some dozen other pupils, only aday boy; he arrived in the morning under theguardianship of his friend Mr. Rowson, and if it was fine,would ride away in the afternoon on his pony, followed bythe groom. The wealth of his grandfather was reportedin the school to be prodigious. The Rev. Mr. Veal usedto compliment Georgy upon it personally, warning himthat he was destined for a high station; that it becamehim to prepare, by sedulity and docility in youth, for thelofty duties to which he would be called in mature age;that obedience in the child was the best preparation forcommand in the man; and that he therefore begged Georgewould not bring toffee into the school and ruin the healthof the Masters Bangles, who had everything they wantedat the elegant and abundant table of Mrs. Veal.

　　With respect to learning, "the Curriculum," as Mr.Veal loved to call it, was of prodigious extent, and theyoung gentlemen in Hart Street might learn asomething of every known science. The Rev. Mr. Veal hadan orrery, an electrifying machine, a turning lathe, atheatre (in the wash-house), a chemical apparatus, andwhat he called a select library of all the works of thebest authors of ancient and modern times and languages.He took the boys to the British Museum and descantedupon the antiquities and the specimens of natural historythere, so that audiences would gather round him as hespoke, and all Bloomsbury highly admired him as aprodigiously well-informed man. And whenever he spoke(which he did almost always), he took care to produce thevery finest and longest words of which the vocabularygave him the use, rightly judging that it was as cheap toemploy a handsome, large, and sonorous epithet, as touse a little stingy one.

　　Thus he would say to George in school, "I observedon my return home from taking the indulgence of anevening's scientific conversation with my excellent friendDoctor Bulders--a true archaeologian, gentlemen, a truearchaeologian--that the windows of your veneratedgrandfather's almost princely mansion in Russell Square wereilluminated as if for the purposes of festivity. Am I rightin my conjecture that Mr. Osborne entertained a societyof chosen spirits round his sumptuous board last night?"

　　Little Georgy, who had considerable humour, and usedto mimic Mr. Veal to his face with great spirit anddexterity, would reply that Mr. V. was quite correctin his surmise.

　　"Then those friends who had the honour of partakingof Mr. Osborne's hospitality, gentlemen, had no reason,I will lay any wager, to complain of their repast. Imyself have been more than once so favoured. (By the way,Master Osborne, you came a little late this morning, andhave been a defaulter in this respect more than once.)I myself, I say, gentlemen, humble as I am, have beenfound not unworthy to share Mr. Osborne's eleganthospitality. And though I have feasted with the great andnoble of the world--for I presume that I may call myexcellent friend and patron, the Right Honourable GeorgeEarl of Bareacres, one of the number--yet I assure youthat the board of the British merchant was to the fullas richly served, and his reception as gratifying andnoble. Mr. Bluck, sir, we will resume, if you please,that passage of Eutropis, which was interrupted by thelate arrival of Master Osborne."

　　To this great man George's education was for sometime entrusted. Amelia was bewildered by his phrases,but thought him a prodigy of learning. That poor widowmade friends of Mrs. Veal, for reasons of her own. Sheliked to be in the house and see Georgy coming to schoolthere. She liked to be asked to Mrs. Veal's conversazioni,which took place once a month (as you were informed onpink cards, with aohnh engraved on them), and wherethe professor welcomed his pupils and their friends to weaktea and scientific conversation. Poor little Amelia nevermissed one of these entertainments and thought themdelicious so long as she might have Georgy sitting by her.And she would walk from Brompton in any weather,and embrace Mrs. Veal with tearful gratitude for thedelightful evening she had passed, when, the companyhaving retired and Georgy gone off with Mr. Rowson, hisattendant, poor Mrs. Osborne put on her cloaks andher shawls preparatory to walking home.

　　As for the learning which Georgy imbibed under thisvaluable master of a hundred sciences, to judge fromthe weekly reports which the lad took home to hisgrandfather, his progress was remarkable. The names of ascore or more of desirable branches of knowledge wereprinted in a table, and the pupil's progress in each wasmarked by the professor. In Greek Georgy waspronounced aristos, in Latin optimus, in French tres bien,and so forth; and everybody had prizes for everythingat the end of the year. Even Mr. Swartz, the wooly-headed young gentleman, and half-brother to theHonourable Mrs. Mac Mull, and Mr. Bluck, the neglectedyoung pupil of three-and-twenty from the agriculturaldistrict, and that idle young scapegrace of a Master Toddbefore mentioned, received little eighteen-penny books,with "Athene" engraved on them, and a pompous Latininscription from the professor to his young friends.

　　The family of this Master Todd were hangers-on ofthe house of Osborne. The old gentleman had advancedTodd from being a clerk to be a junior partner in hisestablishment.

　　Mr. Osborne was the godfather of young Master Todd(who in subsequent life wrote Mr. Osborne Todd on hiscards and became a man of decided fashion), while MissOsborne had accompanied Miss Maria Todd to the font,and gave her protegee a prayer-book, a collection oftracts, a volume of very low church poetry, or somesuch memento of her goodness every year. Miss O. drovethe Todds out in her carriage now and then; when theywere ill, her footman, in large plush smalls andwaistcoat, brought jellies and delicacies from Russell Square toCoram Street. Coram Street trembled and looked up toRussell Square indeed, and Mrs. Todd, who had a prettyhand at cutting out paper trimmings for haunches ofmutton, and could make flowers, ducks, &c., out of turnipsand carrots in a very creditable manner, would go to "theSquare," as it was called, and assist in the preparationsincident to a great dinner, without even so much asthinking of sitting down to the banquet. If any guest failed atthe eleventh hour, Todd was asked to dine. Mrs. Todd andMaria came across in the evening, slipped in with a muffledknock, and were in the drawing-room by the time MissOsborne and the ladies under her convoy reached thatapartment--and ready to fire off duets and sing untilthe gentlemen came up. Poor Maria Todd; poor younglady! How she had to work and thrum at these duetsand sonatas in the Street, before they appeared in publicin the Square!

　　Thus it seemed to be decreed by fate that Georgywas to domineer over everybody with whom he came incontact, and that friends, relatives, and domestics wereall to bow the knee before the little fellow. It mustbe owned that he accommodated himself very willinglyto this arrangement. Most people do so. And Georgyliked to play the part of master and perhaps had anatural aptitude for it.

　　In Russell Square everybody was afraid of Mr. Osborne,and Mr. Osborne was afraid of Georgy. The boy'sdashing manners, and offhand rattle about books andlearning, his likeness to his father (dead unreconciled inBrussels yonder) awed the old gentleman and gave theyoung boy the mastery. The old man would start atsome hereditary feature or tone unconsciously used bythe little lad, and fancy that George's father was againbefore him. He tried by indulgence to the grandson tomake up for harshness to the elder George. People weresurprised at his gentleness to the boy. He growled andswore at Miss Osborne as usual, and would smile whenGeorge came down late for breakfast.

　　Miss Osborne, George's aunt, was a faded old spinster,broken down by more than forty years of dulness andcoarse usage. It was easy for a lad of spirit to master her.And whenever George wanted anything from her, from thejam-pots in her cupboards to the cracked and dry oldcolours in her paint-box (the old paint-box which shehad had when she was a pupil of Mr. Smee and wasstill almost young and blooming), Georgy took possessionof the object of his desire, which obtained, he took nofurther notice of his aunt.

　　For his friends and cronies, he had a pompous oldschoolmaster, who flattered him, and a toady, his senior,whom he could thrash. It was dear Mrs. Todd's delight toleave him with her youngest daughter, Rosa Jemima, adarling child of eight years old. The little pair looked sowell together, she would say (but not to the folks in "theSquare," we may be sure) "who knows what mighthappen? Don't they make a pretty little couple?" thefond mother thought.

　　The broken-spirited, old, maternal grandfather waslikewise subject to the little tyrant. He could not helprespecting a lad who had such fine clothes and rode witha groom behind him. Georgy, on his side, was in theconstant habit of hearing coarse abuse and vulgar satirelevelled at John Sedley by his pitiless old enemy, Mr.Osborne. Osborne used to call the other the old pauper,the old coal-man, the old bankrupt, and by many othersuch names of brutal contumely. How was little Georgeto respect a man so prostrate? A few months after hewas with his paternal grandfather, Mrs. Sedley died.There had been little love between her and the child.He did not care to show much grief. He came down tovisit his mother in a fine new suit of mourning, and wasvery angry that he could not go to a play upon whichhe had set his heart.

　　The illness of that old lady had been the occupationand perhaps the safeguard of Amelia. What do men knowabout women's martyrdoms? We should go mad hadwe to endure the hundredth part of those daily painswhich are meekly borne by many women. Ceaselessslavery meeting with no reward; constant gentleness andkindness met by cruelty as constant; love, labour, patience,watchfulness, without even so much as the acknowledgementof a good word; all this, how many of them haveto bear in quiet, and appear abroad with cheerful facesas if they felt nothing. Tender slaves that they are, theymust needs be hypocrites and weak.

　　From her chair Amelia's mother had taken to her bed,which she had never left, and from which Mrs. Osborneherself was never absent except when she ran to seeGeorge. The old lady grudged her even those rare visits;she, who had been a kind, smiling, good-natured motheronce, in the days of her prosperity, but whom povertyand infirmities had broken down. Her illness or estrangementdid not affect Amelia. They rather enabled her tosupport the other calamity under which she was suffering,and from the thoughts of which she was kept by theceaseless calls of the invalid. Amelia bore her harshnessquite gently; smoothed the uneasy pillow; was alwaysready with a soft answer to the watchful, querulousvoice; soothed the sufferer with words of hope, such asher pious simple heart could best feel and utter, andclosed the eyes that had once looked so tenderly uponher.

　　Then all her time and tenderness were devoted to theconsolation and comfort of the bereaved old father, whowas stunned by the blow which had befallen him, andstood utterly alone in the world. His wife, his honour,his fortune, everything he loved best had fallen awayfrom him. There was only Amelia to stand by and supportwith her gentle arms the tottering, heart-broken old man.We are not going to write the history: it would be toodreary and stupid. I can see Vanity Fair yawning over itd'avance.

　　One day as the young gentlemen were assembledin the study at the Rev. Mr. Veal's, and the domesticchaplain to the Right Honourable the Earl of Bareacreswas spouting away as usual, a smart carriage drove upto the door decorated with the statue of Athene, and twogentlemen stepped out. The young Masters Bangles rushedto the window with a vague notion that their fathermight have arrived from Bombay. The great hulkingscholar of three-and-twenty, who was crying secretly over apassage of Eutropius, flattened his neglected nose againstthe panes and looked at the drag, as the laquais de placesprang from the box and let out the persons in the carriage.

　　"It's a fat one and a thin one," Mr. Bluck said as athundering knock came to the door.

　　Everybody was interested, from the domestic chaplainhimself, who hoped he saw the fathers of some futurepupils, down to Master Georgy, glad of any pretext forlaying his book down.

　　The boy in the shabby livery with the faded copperbuttons, who always thrust himself into the tight coatto open the door, came into the study and said, "Twogentlemen want to see Master Osborne." The professorhad had a trifling altercation in the morning with thatyoung gentleman, owing to a difference about theintroduction of crackers in school-time; but his faceresumed its habitual expression of bland courtesy as hesaid, "Master Osborne, I give you full permission to goand see your carriage friends--to whom I beg you toconvey the respectful compliments of myself and Mrs.Veal."

　　Georgy went into the reception-room and saw twostrangers, whom he looked at with his head up, in hisusual haughty manner. One was fat, with mustachios,and the other was lean and long, in a blue frock-coat,with a brown face and a grizzled head.

　　"My God, how like he is!" said the long gentlemanwith a start. "Can you guess who we are, George?"

　　The boy's face flushed up, as it did usually when hewas moved, and his eyes brightened. "I don't know theother," he said, "but I should think you must be MajorDobbin."

　　Indeed it was our old friend. His voice trembledwith pleasure as he greeted the boy, and taking both theother's hands in his own, drew the lad to him.

　　"Your mother has talked to you about me--hasshe?" he said.

　　"That she has," Georgy answered, "hundreds andhundreds of times."