Chapter XXVIII: In Which Amelia Invades the Low Countries

by William Makepeace Thackeray

　　The regiment with its officers was to be transported inships provided by His Majesty's government for theoccasion: and in two days after the festive assembly at Mrs.O'Dowd's apartments, in the midst of cheering from allthe East India ships in the river, and the military on shore,the band playing "God Save the King," the officers wavingtheir hats, and the crews hurrahing gallantly, the transportswent down the river and proceeded under convoy toOstend. Meanwhile the gallant Jos had agreed to escorthis sister and the Major's wife, the bulk of whose goodsand chattels, including the famous bird of paradise andturban, were with the regimental baggage: so that ourtwo heroines drove pretty much unencumbered toRamsgate, where there were plenty of packets plying, inone of which they had a speedy passage to Ostend.

　　That period of Jos's life which now ensued was so fullof incident, that it served him for conversation formany years after, and even the tiger-hunt story was putaside for more stirring narratives which he had to tellabout the great campaign of Waterloo. As soon as hehad agreed to escort his sister abroad, it was remarkedthat he ceased shaving his upper lip. At Chatham hefollowed the parades and drills with great assiduity. Helistened with the utmost attention to the conversation ofhis brother officers (as he called them in after dayssometimes), and learned as many military names as he could.In these studies the excellent Mrs. O'Dowd was of greatassistance to him; and on the day finally when theyembarked on board the Lovely Rose, which was to carrythem to their destination, he made his appearance in abraided frock-coat and duck trousers, with a foragingcap ornamented with a smart gold band. Having hiscarriage with him, and informing everybody on boardconfidentially that he was going to join the Duke ofWellington's army, folks mistook him for a great personage, acommissary-general, or a government courier at the veryleast.

　　He suffered hugely on the voyage, during which theladies were likewise prostrate; but Amelia was brought tolife again as the packet made Ostend, by the sight ofthe transports conveying her regiment, which entered theharbour almost at the same time with the Lovely Rose.Jos went in a collapsed state to an inn, while CaptainDobbin escorted the ladies, and then busied himself infreeing Jos's carriage and luggage from the ship and thecustom-house, for Mr. Jos was at present without aservant, Osborne's man and his own pampered menialhaving conspired together at Chatham, and refused point-blank to cross the water. This revolt, which came verysuddenly, and on the last day, so alarmed Mr. Sedley,junior, that he was on the point of giving up the expedition,but Captain Dobbin (who made himself immenselyofficious in the business, Jos said), rated him andlaughed at him soundly: the mustachios were grown inadvance, and Jos finally was persuaded to embark. Inplace of the well-bred and well-fed London domestics,who could only speak English, Dobbin procured for Jos'sparty a swarthy little Belgian servant who could speakno language at all; but who, by his bustling behaviour,and by invariably addressing Mr. Sedley as "My lord,"speedily acquired that gentleman's favour. Times arealtered at Ostend now; of the Britons who go thither,very few look like lords, or act like those members ofour hereditary aristocracy. They seem for the most partshabby in attire, dingy of linen, lovers of billiards andbrandy, and cigars and greasy ordinaries.

　　But it may be said as a rule, that every Englishmanin the Duke of Wellington's army paid his way. Theremembrance of such a fact surely becomes a nation ofshopkeepers. It was a blessing for a commerce-lovingcountry to be overrun by such an army of customers:and to have such creditable warriors to feed. And thecountry which they came to protect is not military. Fora long period of history they have let other people fightthere. When the present writer went to survey with eagleglance the field of Waterloo, we asked the conductor ofthe diligence, a portly warlike-looking veteran, whetherhe had been at the battle. "Pas si bete"--such ananswer and sentiment as no Frenchman would own to--was his reply. But, on the other hand, the postilionwho drove us was a Viscount, a son of some bankruptImperial General, who accepted a pennyworth of beeron the road. The moral is surely a good one.

　　This flat, flourishing, easy country never could havelooked more rich and prosperous than in that openingsummer of 1815, when its green fields and quiet citieswere enlivened by multiplied red-coats: when its widechaussees swarmed with brilliant English equipages:when its great canal-boats, gliding by rich pastures andpleasant quaint old villages, by old chateaux lyingamongst old trees, were all crowded with well-to-do English travellers: when the soldier who drank at the villageinn, not only drank, but paid his score; and Donald,the Highlander, billeted in the Flemish farm-house,rocked the baby's cradle, while Jean and Jeannette wereout getting in the hay. As our painters are bent on militarysubjects just now, I throw out this as a good subjectfor the pencil, to illustrate the principle of an honestEnglish war. All looked as brilliant and harmless as aHyde Park review. Meanwhile, Napoleon screened behindhis curtain of frontier-fortresses, was preparing forthe outbreak which was to drive all these orderly peopleinto fury and blood; and lay so many of them low.

　　Everybody had such a perfect feeling of confidencein the leader (for the resolute faith which the Duke ofWellington had inspired in the whole English nation wasas intense as that more frantic enthusiasm with whichat one time the French regarded Napoleon), the countryseemed in so perfect a state of orderly defence, and thehelp at hand in case of need so near and overwhelming,that alarm was unknown, and our travellers, amongwhom two were naturally of a very timid sort, were,like all the other multiplied English tourists, entirely atease. The famous regiment, with so many of whoseofficers we have made acquaintance, was drafted in canalboats to Bruges and Ghent, thence to march to Brussels.Jos accompanied the ladies in the public boats; the whichall old travellers in Flanders must remember for theluxury and accommodation they afforded. So prodigiouslygood was the eating and drinking on board thesesluggish but most comfortable vessels, that there are legendsextant of an English traveller, who, coming to Belgiumfor a week, and travelling in one of these boats, was sodelighted with the fare there that he went backwardsand forwards from Ghent to Bruges perpetually until therailroads were invented, when he drowned himself on thelast trip of the passage-boat. Jos's death was not to beof this sort, but his comfort was exceeding, and Mrs.O'Dowd insisted that he only wanted her sister Glorvinato make his happiness complete. He sate on the roofof the cabin all day drinking Flemish beer, shouting forIsidor, his servant, and talking gallantly to the ladies.

　　His courage was prodigious. "Boney attack us!" hecried. "My dear creature, my poor Emmy, don't befrightened. There's no danger. The allies will be in Parisin two months, I tell you; when I'll take you to dinein the Palais Royal, by Jove! There are three hundredthousand Rooshians, I tell you, now entering France byMayence and the Rhine--three hundred thousand underWittgenstein and Barclay de Tolly, my poor love. Youdon't know military affairs, my dear. I do, and I tellyou there's no infantry in France can stand againstRooshian infantry, and no general of Boney's that's fitto hold a candle to Wittgenstein. Then there are theAustrians, they are five hundred thousand if a man, andthey are within ten marches of the frontier by this time,under Schwartzenberg and Prince Charles. Then there arethe Prooshians under the gallant Prince Marshal. Showme a cavalry chief like him now that Murat is gone.Hey, Mrs. O'Dowd? Do you think our little girl hereneed be afraid? Is there any cause for fear, Isidor? Hey,sir? Get some more beer."

　　Mrs. O'Dowd said that her "Glorvina was not afraidof any man alive, let alone a Frenchman," and tossedoff a glass of beer with a wink which expressed herliking for the beverage.

　　Having frequently been in presence of the enemy, or,in other words, faced the ladies at Cheltenham and Bath,our friend, the Collector, had lost a great deal of hispristine timidity, and was now, especially when fortifiedwith liquor, as talkative as might be. He was rather afavourite with the regiment, treating the young officerswith sumptuosity, and amusing them by his military airs.And as there is one well-known regiment of the armywhich travels with a goat heading the column, whilstanother is led by a deer, George said with respect to hisbrother-in-law, that his regiment marched with anelephant.

　　Since Amelia's introduction to the regiment, Georgebegan to be rather ashamed of some of the company towhich he had been forced to present her; and determined,as he told Dobbin (with what satisfaction to the latterit need not be said), to exchange into some better regimentsoon, and to get his wife away from those damnedvulgar women. But this vulgarity of being ashamed ofone's society is much more common among men thanwomen (except very great ladies of fashion, who, to besure, indulge in it); and Mrs. Amelia, a natural andunaffected person, had none of that artificial shamefacednesswhich her husband mistook for delicacy on his ownpart. Thus Mrs. O'Dowd had a cock's plume in her hat,and a very large "repayther" on her stomach, which sheused to ring on all occasions, narrating how it had beenpresented to her by her fawther, as she stipt into thecar'ge after her mar'ge; and these ornaments, with otheroutward peculiarities of the Major's wife, gave excruciatingagonies to Captain Osborne, when his wife and theMajor's came in contact; whereas Amelia was onlyamused by the honest lady's eccentricities, and not inthe least ashamed of her company.

　　As they made that well-known journey, which almostevery Englishman of middle rank has travelled since,there might have been more instructive, but few moreentertaining, companions than Mrs. Major O'Dowd. "Talkabout kenal boats; my dear! Ye should see the kenalboats between Dublin and Ballinasloe. It's there the rapidtravelling is; and the beautiful cattle. Sure me fawthergot a goold medal (and his Excellency himself eat a sliceof it, and said never was finer mate in his loif) for afour-year-old heifer, the like of which ye never saw inthis country any day." And Jos owned with a sigh, "thatfor good streaky beef, really mingled with fat and lean,there was no country like England."

　　"Except Ireland, where all your best mate comes from,"said the Major's lady; proceeding, as is not unusual withpatriots of her nation, to make comparisons greatly infavour of her own country. The idea of comparing themarket at Bruges with those of Dublin, although she hadsuggested it herself, caused immense scorn and derisionon her part. "I'll thank ye tell me what they mean bythat old gazabo on the top of the market-place," saidshe, in a burst of ridicule fit to have brought the oldtower down. The place was full of English soldiery asthey passed. English bugles woke them in the morning;at nightfall they went to bed to the note of the Britishfife and drum: all the country and Europe was in arms,and the greatest event of history pending: and honestPeggy O'Dowd, whom it concerned as well as another,went on prattling about Ballinafad, and the horses in thestables at Glenmalony, and the clar't drunk there; andJos Sedley interposed about curry and rice at Dumdum;and Amelia thought about her husband, and how bestshe should show her love for him; as if these werethe great topics of the world.

　　Those who like to lay down the History-book, and tospeculate upon what might have happened in the world,but for the fatal occurrence of what actually did takeplace (a most puzzling, amusing, ingenious, and profitablekind of meditation), have no doubt often thought tothemselves what a specially bad time Napoleon took tocome back from Elba, and to let loose his eagle fromGulf San Juan to Notre Dame. The historians on ourside tell us that the armies of the allied powers wereall providentially on a war-footing, and ready to beardown at a moment's notice upon the Elban Emperor.The august jobbers assembled at Vienna, and carvingout the kingdoms of Europe according to their wisdom,had such causes of quarrel among themselves as mighthave set the armies which had overcome Napoleon tofight against each other, but for the return of the objectof unanimous hatred and fear. This monarch had an armyin full force because he had jobbed to himself Poland,and was determined to keep it: another had robbed halfSaxony, and was bent upon maintaining his acquisition:Italy was the object of a third's solicitude. Each wasprotesting against the rapacity of the other; and could theCorsican but have waited in prison until all these partieswere by the ears, he might have returned and reignedunmolested. But what would have become of our storyand all our friends, then? If all the drops in it were driedup, what would become of the sea?

　　In the meanwhile the business of life and living, andthe pursuits of pleasure, especially, went on as if no endwere to be expected to them, and no enemy in front.When our travellers arrived at Brussels, in which theirregiment was quartered, a great piece of good fortune,as all said, they found themselves in one of the gayestand most brilliant little capitals in Europe, and whereall the Vanity Fair booths were laid out with the mosttempting liveliness and splendour. Gambling was here inprofusion, and dancing in plenty: feasting was there tofill with delight that great gourmand of a Jos: therewas a theatre where a miraculous Catalani was delightingall hearers: beautiful rides, all enlivened with martialsplendour; a rare old city, with strange costumes andwonderful architecture, to delight the eyes of little Amelia,who had never before seen a foreign country, and fillher with charming surprises: so that now and for a fewweeks' space in a fine handsome lodging, whereof theexpenses were borne by Jos and Osborne, who was flushof money and full of kind attentions to his wife--forabout a fortnight, I say, during which her honeymoonended, Mrs. Amelia was as pleased and happy as anylittle bride out of England.

　　Every day during this happy time there was noveltyand amusement for all parties. There was a church tosee, or a picture-gallery--there was a ride, or an opera.The bands of the regiments were making music at allhours. The greatest folks of England walked in the Park--there was a perpetual military festival. George, takingout his wife to a new jaunt or junket every night, wasquite pleased with himself as usual, and swore he wasbecoming quite a domestic character. And a jaunt ora junket with him! Was it not enough to set this littleheart beating with joy? Her letters home to her motherwere filled with delight and gratitude at this season. Herhusband bade her buy laces, millinery, jewels, andgimcracks of all sorts. Oh, he was the kindest, best, andmost generous of men!

　　The sight of the very great company of lords and ladiesand fashionable persons who thronged the town, andappeared in every public place, filled George's truly Britishsoul with intense delight. They flung off that happyfrigidity and insolence of demeanour which occasionallycharacterises the great at home, and appearing innumberless public places, condescended to mingle with therest of the company whom they met there. One nightat a party given by the general of the division to whichGeorge's regiment belonged, he had the honour of dancingwith Lady Blanche Thistlewood, Lord Bareacres'daughter; he bustled for ices and refreshments for thetwo noble ladies; he pushed and squeezed for LadyBareacres' carriage; he bragged about the Countess whenhe got home, in a way which his own father could nothave surpassed. He called upon the ladies the next day;he rode by their side in the Park; he asked their partyto a great dinner at a restaurateur's, and was quitewild with exultation when they agreed to come. OldBareacres, who had not much pride and a large appetite,would go for a dinner anywhere.

　　"I.hope there will be no women besides our ownparty," Lady Bareacres said, after reflecting upon theinvitation which had been made, and accepted with toomuch precipitancy.

　　"Gracious Heaven, Mamma--you don't suppose theman would bring his wife," shrieked Lady Blanche, whohad been languishing in George's arms in the newlyimported waltz for hours the night before. "The men arebearable, but their women--"

　　"Wife, just married, dev'lish pretty woman, I hear,"the old Earl said.

　　"Well, my dear Blanche," said the mother, "I suppose,as Papa wants to go, we must go; but we needn't knowthem in England, you know." And so, determined to cuttheir new acquaintance in Bond Street, these great folkswent to eat his dinner at Brussels, and condescending tomake him pay for their pleasure, showed their dignityby making his wife uncomfortable, and carefully excludingher from the conversation. This is a species of dignityin which the high-bred British female reigns supreme. Towatch the behaviour of a fine lady to other and humblerwomen, is a very good sport for a philosophical frequenterof Vanity Fair.

　　This festival, on which honest George spent a greatdeal of money, was the very dismallest of all theentertainments which Amelia had in her honeymoon. Shewrote the most piteous accounts of the feast home toher mamma: how the Countess of Bareacres would notanswer when spoken to; how Lady Blanche stared at herwith her eye-glass; and what a rage Captain Dobbin wasin at their behaviour; and how my lord, as they cameaway from the feast, asked to see the bill, and pronouncedit a d-- bad dinner, and d-- dear. But though Ameliatold all these stories, and wrote home regardingher guests' rudeness, and her own discomfiture,old Mrs. Sedley was mightily pleased nevertheless,and talked about Emmy's friend, the Countess ofBareacres, with such assiduity that the news how his sonwas entertaining peers and peeresses actually came toOsborne's ears in the City.

　　Those who know the present Lieutenant-General SirGeorge Tufto, K.C.B., and have seen him, as they mayon most days in the season, padded and in stays, struttingdown Pall Mall with a rickety swagger on his high-heeledlacquered boots, leering under the bonnets of passers-by, or riding a showy chestnut, and ogling broughams inthe Parks--those who know the present Sir George Tuftowould hardly recognise the daring Peninsular and Waterlooofficer. He has thick curling brown hair and blackeyebrows now, and his whiskers are of the deepestpurple. He was light-haired and bald in 1815, and stouterin the person and in the limbs, which especially haveshrunk very much of late. When he was about seventyyears of age (he is now nearly eighty), his hair, whichwas very scarce and quite white, suddenly grew thick,and brown, and curly, and his whiskers and eyebrowstook their present colour. Ill-natured people say thathis chest is all wool, and that his hair, because it nevergrows, is a wig. Tom Tufto, with whose father he quarrelledever so many years ago, declares that Mademoisellede Jaisey, of the French theatre, pulled hisgrandpapa's hair off in the green-room; but Tom isnotoriously spiteful and jealous; and the General's wig hasnothing to do with our story.

　　One day, as some of our friends of the --th weresauntering in the flower-market of Brussels, having beento see the Hotel de Ville, which Mrs. Major O'Dowddeclared was not near so large or handsome as herfawther's mansion of Glenmalony, an officer of rank, withan orderly behind him, rode up to the market, anddescending from his horse, came amongst the flowers, andselected the very finest bouquet which money could buy.The beautiful bundle being tied up in a paper, the officerremounted, giving the nosegay into the charge of hismilitary groom, who carried it with a grin, following hischief, who rode away in great state and self-satisfaction.

　　"You should see the flowers at Glenmalony," Mrs.O'Dowd was remarking. "Me fawther has three Scotchgarners with nine helpers. We have an acre of hot-houses,and pines as common as pays in the sayson. Our greepsweighs six pounds every bunch of 'em, and upon mehonour and conscience I think our magnolias is as bigas taykettles."

　　Dobbin, who never used to "draw out" Mrs. O'Dowdas that wicked Osborne delighted in doing (much toAmelia's terror, who implored him to spare her), fellback in the crowd, crowing and sputtering until hereached a safe distance, when he exploded amongst theastonished market-people with shrieks of yelling laughter.

　　"Hwhat's that gawky guggling about?" said Mrs.O'Dowd. "Is it his nose bleedn? He always used to say'twas his nose bleedn, till he must have pomped all theblood out of 'um. An't the magnolias at Glenmalonyas big as taykettles, O'Dowd?"

　　"'Deed then they are, and bigger, Peggy," the Majorsaid. When the conversation was interrupted in themanner stated by the arrival of the officer who purchasedthe bouquet.

　　"Devlish fine horse--who is it?" George asked.

　　"You should see me brother Molloy Malony's horse,Molasses, that won the cop at the Curragh," the Major'swife was exclaiming, and was continuing the familyhistory, when her husband interrupted her by saying--

　　"It's General Tufto, who commands the ---- cavalrydivision"; adding quietly, "he and I were both shot inthe same leg at Talavera."

　　"Where you got your step," said George with a laugh."General Tufto! Then, my dear, the Crawleys are come."

　　Amelia's heart fell--she knew not why. The sun didnot seem to shine so bright. The tall old roofs andgables looked less picturesque all of a sudden, thoughit was a brilliant sunset, and one of the brightest andmost beautiful days at the end of May.