Chapter XLV: Between Hampshire and London

by William Makepeace Thackeray

　　Sir Pitt Crawley had done more than repair fences andrestore dilapidated lodges on the Queen's Crawley estate.Like a wise man he had set to work to rebuild theinjured popularity of his house and stop up the gaps andruins in which his name had been left by his disreputableand thriftless old predecessor. He was elected for theborough speedily after his father's demise; a magistrate,a member of parliament, a county magnate and representativeof an ancient family, he made it his duty to showhimself before the Hampshire public, subscribedhandsomely to the county charities, called assiduously uponall the county folk, and laid himself out in a word to takethat position in Hampshire, and in the Empire afterwards,to which he thought his prodigious talents justlyentitled him. Lady Jane was instructed to be friendly withthe Fuddlestones, and the Wapshots, and the otherfamous baronets, their neighbours. Their carriages mightfrequently be seen in the Queen's Crawley avenue now;they dined pretty frequently at the Hall (where the cookerywas so good that it was clear Lady Jane very seldomhad a hand in it), and in return Pitt and his wife mostenergetically dined out in all sorts of weather and at allsorts of distances. For though Pitt did not care for joviality,being a frigid man of poor hearth and appetite, yet heconsidered that to be hospitable and condescendingwas quite incumbent on-his station, and every time thathe got a headache from too long an after-dinner sitting,he felt that he was a martyr to duty. He talked aboutcrops, corn-laws, politics, with the best country gentlemen.He (who had been formerly inclined to be a sadfree-thinker on these points) entered into poaching andgame preserving with ardour. He didn't hunt; he wasn'ta hunting man; he was a man of books and peacefulhabits; but he thought that the breed of horses must bekept up in the country, and that the breed of foxes musttherefore be looked to, and for his part, if his friend,Sir Huddlestone Fuddlestone, liked to draw his countryand meet as of old the F. hounds used to do at Queen'sCrawley, he should be happy to see him there, and thegentlemen of the Fuddlestone hunt. And to Lady Southdown'sdismay too he became more orthodox in his tendenciesevery day; gave up preaching in public and attendingmeeting-houses; went stoutly to church; calledon the Bishop and all the Clergy at Winchester; and madeno objection when the Venerable Archdeacon Trumperasked for a game of whist. What pangs must have beenthose of Lady Southdown, and what an utter castaway shemust have thought her son-in-law for permitting sucha godless diversion! And when, on the return of the familyfrom an oratorio at Winchester, the Baronet announcedto the young ladies that he should next year veryprobably take them to the "county balls," they worshippedhim for his kindness. Lady Jane was only too obedient, andperhaps glad herself to go. The Dowager wrote off thedirest descriptions of her daughter's worldly behaviour tothe authoress of the Washerwoman of Finchley Commonat the Cape; and her house in Brighton being about thistime unoccupied, returned to that watering-place, herabsence being not very much deplored by her children.We may suppose, too, that Rebecca, on paying a secondvisit to Queen's Crawley, did not feel particularly grievedat the absence of the lady of the medicine chest; thoughshe wrote a Christmas letter to her Ladyship, in which sherespectfully recalled herself to Lady Southdown'srecollection, spoke with gratitude of the delight which herLadyship's conversation had given her on the formervisit, dilated on the kindness with which her Ladyship hadtreated her in sickness, and declared that everything atQueen's Crawley reminded her of her absent friend.

　　A great part of the altered demeanour and popularityof Sir Pitt Crawley might have been traced to the counselsof that astute little lady of Curzon Street. "You remain aBaronet--you consent to be a mere country gentleman,"she said to him, while he had been her guest in London."No, Sir Pitt Crawley, I know you better. I know yourtalents and your ambition. You fancy you hide themboth, but you can conceal neither from me. I showedLord Steyne your pamphlet on malt. He was familiarwith it, and said it was in the opinion of the whole Cabinetthe most masterly thing that had appeared on the subject.The Ministry has its eye upon you, and I know what youwant. You want to distinguish yourself in Parliament;every one says you are the finest speaker in England(for your speeches at Oxford are still remembered). Youwant to be Member for the County, where, with your ownvote and your borough at your back, you can commandanything. And you want to be Baron Crawley of Queen'sCrawley, and will be before you die. I saw it all. I couldread your heart, Sir Pitt. If I had a husband whopossessed your intellect as he does your name, I sometimesthink I should not be unworthy of him--but--but I amyour kinswoman now," she added with a laugh. "Poorlittle penniless, I have got a little interest--and whoknows, perhaps the mouse may be able to aid the lion."Pitt Crawley was amazed and enraptured with herspeech. "How that woman comprehends me!" he said."I never could get Jane to read three pages of the maltpamphlet. She has no idea that I have commandingtalents or secret ambition. So they remember my speakingat Oxford, do they? The rascals! Now that I representmy borough and may sit for the county, they begin torecollect me! Why, Lord Steyne cut me at the levee lastyear; they are beginning to find out that Pitt Crawley issome one at last. Yes, the man was always the samewhom these people neglected: it was only the opportunitythat was wanting, and I will show them now that I canspeak and act as well as write. Achilles did not declarehimself until they gave him the sword. I hold it now, andthe world shall yet hear of Pitt Crawley."

　　Therefore it was that this roguish diplomatist has grownso hospitable; that he was so civil to oratorios andhospitals; so kind to Deans and Chapters; so generous ingiving and accepting dinners; so uncommonly gracious tofarmers on market-days; and so much interested aboutcounty business; and that the Christmas at the Hall was thegayest which had been known there for many a long day.

　　On Christmas Day a great family gathering took place.All the Crawleys from the Rectory came to dine. Rebeccawas as frank and fond of Mrs. Bute as if the other hadnever been her enemy; she was affectionately interestedin the dear girls, and surprised at the progress which theyhad made in music since her time, and insisted uponencoring one of the duets out of the great song-bookswhich Jim, grumbling, had been forced to bring under hisarm from the Rectory. Mrs. Bute, perforce, was obligedto adopt a decent demeanour towards the little adventuress--of course being free to discourse with her daughtersafterwards about the absurd respect with which Sir Pitttreated his sister-in-law. But Jim, who had sat next toher at dinner, declared she was a trump, and one and allof the Rector's family agreed that the little Rawdon was afine boy. They respected a possible baronet in the boy,between whom and the title there was only the littlesickly pale Pitt Binkie.

　　The children were very good friends. Pitt Binkie was toolittle a dog for such a big dog as Rawdon to play with; andMatilda being only a girl, of course not fit companionfor a young gentleman who was near eight years old, andgoing into jackets very soon. He took the command ofthis small party at once--the little girl and the little boyfollowing him about with great reverence at such timesas he condescended to sport with them. His happinessand pleasure in the country were extreme. The kitchengarden pleased him hugely, the flowers moderately, butthe pigeons and the poultry, and the stables when hewas allowed to visit them, were delightful objects tohim. He resisted being kissed by the Misses Crawley,but he allowed Lady Jane sometimes to embrace him, andit was by her side that he liked to sit when, the signalto retire to the drawing-room being given, the ladiesleft the gentlemen to their claret--by her side ratherthan by his mother. For Rebecca, seeing that tendernesswas the fashion, called Rawdon to her one evening andstooped down and kissed him in the presence of all theladies.

　　He looked her full in the face after the operation,trembling and turning very red, as his wont was whenmoved. "You never kiss me at home, Mamma," he said,at which there was a general silence and consternation anda by no means pleasant look in Becky's eyes.

　　Rawdon was fond of his sister-in-law, for her regardfor his son. Lady Jane and Becky did not get on quite sowell at this visit as on occasion of the former one, whenthe Colonel's wife was bent upon pleasing. Those twospeeches of the child struck rather a chill. Perhaps SirPitt was rather too attentive to her.

　　But Rawdon, as became his age and size, was fonderof the society of the men than of the women, and neverwearied of accompanying his sire to the stables, whitherthe Colonel retired to smoke his cigar--Jim, the Rector'sson, sometimes joining his cousin in that and other amusements.He and the Baronet's keeper were very closefriends, their mutual taste for "dawgs" bringing themmuch together. On one day, Mr. James, the Colonel, andHorn, the keeper, went and shot pheasants, taking littleRawdon with them. On another most blissful morning,these four gentlemen partook of the amusement ofrat-hunting in a barn, than which sport Rawdon as yet hadnever seen anything more noble. They stopped up theends of certain drains in the barn, into the other openingsof which ferrets were inserted, and then stood silentlyaloof, with uplifted stakes in their hands, and an anxiouslittle terrier (Mr. James's celebrated "dawg" Forceps,indeed) scarcely breathing from excitement, listeningmotionless on three legs, to the faint squeaking of therats below. Desperately bold at last, the persecutedanimals bolted above-ground--the terrier accounted for one,the keeper for another; Rawdon, from flurry andexcitement, missed his rat, but on the other hand hehalf-murdered a ferret.

　　But the greatest day of all was that on which SirHuddlestone Fuddlestone's hounds met upon the lawnat Queen's Crawley.

　　That was a famous sight for little Rawdon. At half-pastten, Tom Moody, Sir Huddlestone Fuddlestone'shuntsman, was seen trotting up the avenue, followed by thenoble pack of hounds in a compact body--the rear beingbrought up by the two whips clad in stained scarletfrocks--light hard-featured lads on well-bred lean horses,possessing marvellous dexterity in casting the points oftheir long heavy whips at the thinnest part of any dog'sskin who dares to straggle from the main body, or totake the slightest notice, or even so much as wink, at thehares and rabbits starting under their noses.

　　Next comes boy Jack, Tom Moody's son, who weighsfive stone, measures eight-and-forty inches, and will neverbe any bigger. He is perched on a large raw-boned hunter,half-covered by a capacious saddle. This animal is SirHuddlestone Fuddlestone's favourite horse the Nob.Other horses, ridden by other small boys, arrive fromtime to time, awaiting their masters, who will comecantering on anon.

　　Tom Moody rides up to the door of the Hall, where heis welcomed by the butler, who offers him drink, which hedeclines. He and his pack then draw off into a shelteredcorner of the lawn, where the dogs roll on the grass, andplay or growl angrily at one another, ever and anonbreaking out into furious fight speedily to be quelled byTom's voice, unmatched at rating, or the snaky thongsof the whips.

　　Many young gentlemen canter up on thoroughbredhacks, spatter-dashed to the knee, and enter the house todrink cherry-brandy and pay their respects to the ladies,or, more modest and sportsmanlike, divest themselvesof their mud-boots, exchange their hacks for their hunters,and warm their blood by a preliminary gallop round thelawn. Then they collect round the pack in the corner andtalk with Tom Moody of past sport, and the merits ofSniveller and Diamond, and of the state of the countryand of the wretched breed of foxes.

　　Sir Huddlestone presently appears mounted on a clevercob and rides up to the Hall, where he enters and does thecivil thing by the ladies, after which, being a man offew words, he proceeds to business. The hounds aredrawn up to the hall-door, and little Rawdon descendsamongst them, excited yet half-alarmed by the caresseswhich they bestow upon him, at the thumps he receivesfrom their waving tails, and at their canine bickerings,scarcely restrained by Tom Moody's tongue and lash.

　　Meanwhile, Sir Huddlestone has hoisted himselfunwieldily on the Nob: "Let's try Sowster's Spinney, Tom,"says the Baronet, "Farmer Mangle tells me there are twofoxes in it." Tom blows his horn and trots off, followed bythe pack, by the whips, by the young gents fromWinchester, by the farmers of the neighbourhood, by thelabourers of the parish on foot, with whom the day isa great holiday, Sir Huddlestone bringing up the rear withColonel Crawley, and the whole cortege disappearsdown the avenue.

　　The Reverend Bute Crawley (who has been too modestto appear at the public meet before his nephew'swindows), whom Tom Moody remembers forty years backa slender divine riding the wildest horses, jumping thewidest brooks, and larking over the newest gates in thecountry--his Reverence, we say, happens to trot out fromthe Rectory Lane on his powerful black horse just as SirHuddlestone passes; he joins the worthy Baronet. Houndsand horsemen disappear, and little Rawdon remains on thedoorsteps, wondering and happy.

　　During the progress of this memorable holiday, littleRawdon, if he had got no special liking for his uncle,always awful and cold and locked up in his study, plungedin justice-business and surrounded by bailiffs and farmers--has gained the good graces of his married and maidenaunts, of the two little folks of the Hall, and of Jim of theRectory, whom Sir Pitt is encouraging to pay his addressesto one of the young ladies, with an understanding doubtlessthat he shall be presented to the living when it shallbe vacated by his fox-hunting old sire. Jim has given upthat sport himself and confines himself to a little harmlessduck- or snipe-shooting, or a little quiet trifling with therats during the Christmas holidays, after which he willreturn to the University and try and not be plucked, oncemore. He has already eschewed green coats, redneckcloths, and other worldly ornaments, and is preparinghimself for a change in his condition. In this cheap andthrifty way Sir Pitt tries to pay off his debt to his family.

　　Also before this merry Christmas was over, the Baronethad screwed up courage enough to give his brotheranother draft on his bankers, and for no less a sum than ahundred pounds, an act which caused Sir Pitt cruel pangsat first, but which made him glow afterwards to thinkhimself one of the most generous of men. Rawdon and hisson went away with the utmost heaviness of heart. Beckyand the ladies parted with some alacrity, however, and ourfriend returned to London to commence those avocationswith which we find her occupied when this chapter begins.Under her care the Crawley House in Great Gaunt Streetwas quite rejuvenescent and ready for the reception ofSir Pitt and his family, when the Baronet came toLondon to attend his duties in Parliament and to assume thatposition in the country for which his vast genius fittedhim.

　　For the first session, this profound dissembler hid hisprojects and never opened his lips but to present apetition from Mudbury. But he attended assiduously in hisplace and learned thoroughly the routine and business ofthe House. At home he gave himself up to the perusal ofBlue Books, to the alarm and wonder of Lady Jane, whothought he was killing himself by late hours and intenseapplication. And he made acquaintance with the ministers,and the chiefs of his party, determining to rank asone of them before many years were over.

　　Lady Jane's sweetness and kindness had inspiredRebecca with such a contempt for her ladyship as the littlewoman found no small difficulty in concealing. That sortof goodness and simplicity which Lady Jane possessedannoyed our friend Becky, and it was impossible for her attimes not to show, or to let the other divine, her scorn.Her presence, too, rendered Lady Jane uneasy. Herhusband talked constantly with Becky. Signs of intelligenceseemed to pass between them, and Pitt spoke with her onsubjects on which he never thought of discoursing withLady Jane. The latter did not understand them, to be sure,but it was mortifying to remain silent; still moremortifying to know that you had nothing to say, and hear thatlittle audacious Mrs. Rawdon dashing on from subject tosubject, with a word for every man, and a joke always pat;and to sit in one's own house alone, by the fireside, andwatching all the men round your rival.

　　In the country, when Lady Jane was telling stories tothe children, who clustered about her knees (littleRawdon into the bargain, who was very fond of her), andBecky came into the room, sneering with green scornfuleyes, poor Lady Jane grew silent under those balefulglances. Her simple little fancies shrank away tremulously,as fairies in the story-books, before a superior badangel. She could not go on, although Rebecca, with thesmallest inflection of sarcasm in her voice, besought herto continue that charming story. And on her side gentlethoughts and simple pleasures were odious to Mrs. Becky;they discorded with her; she hated people for liking them;she spurned children and children-lovers. "I have notaste for bread and butter," she would say, whencaricaturing Lady Jane and her ways to my Lord Steyne.

　　"No more has a certain person for holy water," hislordship replied with a bow and a grin and a great jarringlaugh afterwards.

　　So these two ladies did not see much of each otherexcept upon those occasions when the younger brother'swife, having an object to gain from the other, frequentedher. They my-loved and my-deared each other assiduously,but kept apart generally, whereas Sir Pitt, in themidst of his multiplied avocations, found daily time tosee his sister-in-law.

　　On the occasion of his first Speaker's dinner, Sir Pitttook the opportunity of appearing before his sister-in-lawin his uniform--that old diplomatic suit which he hadworn when attache to the Pumpernickel legation.

　　Becky complimented him upon that dress and admiredhim almost as much as his own wife and children, towhom he displayed himself before he set out. She saidthat it was only the thoroughbred gentleman who couldwear the Court suit with advantage: it was only your menof ancient race whom the culotte courte became. Pittlooked down with complacency at his legs, which had not,in truth, much more symmetry or swell than the leanCourt sword which dangled by his side--looked downat his legs, and thought in his heart that he was killing.

　　When he was gone, Mrs. Becky made a caricatureof his figure, which she showed to Lord Steyne when hearrived. His lordship carried off the sketch, delightedwith the accuracy of the resemblance. He had done SirPitt Crawley the honour to meet him at Mrs. Becky'shouse and had been most gracious to the new Baronetand member. Pitt was struck too by the deference withwhich the great Peer treated his sister-in-law, by her easeand sprightliness in the conversation, and by the delightwith which the other men of the party listened to her talk.Lord Steyne made no doubt but that the Baronet hadonly commenced his career in public life, and expectedrather anxiously to hear him as an orator; as they wereneighbours (for Great Gaunt Street leads into GauntSquare, whereof Gaunt House, as everybody knows, formsone side) my lord hoped that as soon as Lady Steynearrived in London she would have the honour of makingthe acquaintance of Lady Crawley. He left a card uponhis neighbour in the course of a day or two, having neverthought fit to notice his predecessor, though they hadlived near each other for near a century past.

　　In the midst of these intrigues and fine parties andwise and brilliant personages Rawdon felt himself moreand more isolated every day. He was allowed to go tothe club more; to dine abroad with bachelor friends;to come and go when he liked, without any questionsbeing asked. And he and Rawdon the younger many atime would walk to Gaunt Street and sit with the ladyand the children there while Sir Pitt was closeted withRebecca, on his way to the House, or on his returnfrom it.

　　The ex-Colonel would sit for hours in his brother'shouse very silent, and thinking and doing as little aspossible. He was glad to be employed of an errand; togo and make inquiries about a horse or a servant, or tocarve the roast mutton for the dinner of the children.He was beat and cowed into laziness and submission.Delilah had imprisoned him and cut his hair off, too. Thebold and reckless young blood of ten-years back wassubjugated and was turned into a torpid, submissive,middle-aged, stout gentleman.

　　And poor Lady Jane was aware that Rebecca hadcaptivated her husband, although she and Mrs. Rawdonmy-deared and my-loved each other every day they met.