The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. II (of II)
Page 32
CHAPTER XXXII. LETTER FROM MASSINGBRED.
"Martin Arms, Oughterard.
"In spite of all your reasonings, all your cautions, and all yourwarnings, here I am once more, Harry, denizen of the little drearyparlor whence I first looked out at Dan Nelligan's shop somethingmore than a year since. What changes of fortune has that brief spaceaccomplished I what changes has it effected even in my own nature! Ifeel this in nothing more than in my altered relations with others. Ifthe first evidence of amendment in a man be shame and sorrow for thepast, I may probably be on the right road now, since I heartily grieveover the worthless, purposeless life I have led hitherto.
"I am well aware that you would not accept the reason I gave you forcoming here. You said that, as to taking leave of my constituents, aletter was the ordinary and the sufficient course. You also hinted thatour intercourse had not been of that close and friendly nature whichrequires a personal farewell, and then you suggested that other and lessdefensible motives had probably their share in this step. Well, youare right, perfectly right; I wanted to see the spot which has so farexerted an immense influence over me; I wanted--if you will have theconfession--to see _her_ too,--to see her in the humble station shebelongs to, in the lowly garb of the steward's daughter. I was curiousto ascertain what change her bearing would undergo in the change ofposition; would she conform to the lowlier condition at once andwithout struggle, or would her haughty nature chafe and fret against theobstacles of a small and mean existence? If you were right in guessingthis, you are equally wrong in the motive you ascribe to me. Not,indeed, that you palpably express, but only hint at it; still I cannotendure even the shadow of such a surmise without a flat and full denial.Perhaps, after all, I have mistaken your meaning,--would it were so! Ido indeed wish that you should not ascribe to me motives so unworthyand so mean. A revenge for her refusal of me! a reprisal for the proudrejection of my hand and fortune! No, my dear Harry, I feel, as I writethe words, that they never were yours. You say, however, that I amcurious to know if I should think her as lovable and attractive in thehumble dress and humble station that pertain to her, as when I saw hermoving more than equal amongst the proudest and haughtiest of Europe.To have any doubt on this score would be to distrust her sincerity ofcharacter. She must be what I have ever seen her, or she is an actress.Difference of condition, different associates, different duties willexact different discipline, but she herself must be the same, or she isa falsehood,--a deception.
"And then you add, it is perhaps as well that I should 'submit to therude test of a disenchantment.' Well, I accept the challenge, and I amhere.
"These thoughts of self would obtrude in the very beginning of a letterI had destined for other objects. You ask me for a narrative of myjourney and its accidents, and you shall have it. On my way over herein the packet, I made acquaintance with an elderly man, who seemedthoroughly acquainted with all the circumstances of the Martins andtheir misfortunes. From him I ascertained that all Scanlan had told mewas perfectly correct. The reversion of the estate has been sold for asum incredibly small in proportion to its value, and in great partthe proceeds of gambling transactions. Martin is, therefore, utterly,irretrievably ruined. Merl has taken every step with all the securityof the best advice, and in a few months, weeks perhaps, will be declaredowner of Cro' Martin. Even in the 'fast times' we live in, such rapidruin as this stands alone! You tell me that of your own college and messassociates not more than one in five or six have survived the wreckof fortune the first few years of extravagance accomplish, andthat Manheim, Brussels, and Munich can show the white-seamed,mock-smartened-up gentilities which once were the glories of BondStreet and the Park; but for poor Martin, I suspect, even these lastsanctuaries do not remain,--as I hear it, he is totally gone.
"From the very inn where I am staying Merls agents are issuing noticesof all kinds to the tenants and 'others' to desist and refrain fromcutting timber, quarrying marbles, and what not, on certain unspeakablelocalities, with threats in case of non-compliance. Great placards coverthe walls of the town, headed 'Caution to all Tenants on the Estateof Cro' Martin.' The excitement in the neighborhood is intense,overwhelming. Whatever differences of political opinion existed betweenthe Martins and the people of the borough, whatever jealousies grew outof disparity of station, seemed suddenly merged in sympathy for thisgreat misfortune. They are, of course, ignorant of the cause of thissudden calamity, and ask each other how, when, and where such a fortunebecause engulfed.
"But to proceed regularly. On my reaching Dublin, after a hurried visitto my father, I drove off to Mr. Repton's house. You may remember hisname as that of the old lawyer, some of whose bar stories amused youso highly. I found him in a spacious mansion of an old neglectedstreet,--Henrietta Street,--once the great aristocratic quarter ofAncient Dublin, and even to this day showing traces of real splendor.The old man received me in a room of immense proportions, furnished asit was when Flood was the proprietor. He was at luncheon when I entered;and for company had the very same stranger with whom I made acquaintancein the packet.
"Repton started as we recognized each other, but at a sign or a word,I'm not certain which, from the other, merely said, 'My friend was justspeaking of his having met you, Mr. Massingbred.' This somewhat informalpresentation over, I joined them, and we fell a chatting over the storyof Cro' Martin.
"They were both eager to hear something about Merl, his character,pursuits, and position; and you would have been amazed to see howsurprised they were at my account of a man whose type we are all sofamiliar with.
"You would scarcely credit the unfeigned astonishment manifested bythese two shrewd and crafty men at the sketch I gave them of our Hebrewfriend. One thing is quite clear,--it was not the habit, some forty orfifty years ago, to admit the Merls of the world to terms of intimacy,far less of friendship.
"'As I said, Repton,' broke in the stranger, sternly, 'it all comes ofthat degenerate tone which has crept in of late, making society like atavern, where he who can pay his bill cannot be denied entrance. Suchfellows as this Merl had no footing in our day. The man who associatedwith such would have forfeited his own place in the world.'
"'Very true,' said Repton, 'though we borrowed their money we neverbowed to them.'
"'And we did wisely, sir,' retorted the other. 'The corruption of theirmanners was fifty times worse than all their usury! The gallant HussarCaptain, as we see here, never scrupled about admitting to his closestintimacy a fellow not fit company for his valet. Can't you perceive thatwhen a man will descend to such baseness to obtain money, there is nomeasuring the depth he will go to when pressed to pay it?'
"'I am intimate with Martin,' said I, interrupting, 'and I can honestlyassure you that it was rather to an easy, careless, uncalculatingdisposition he owes his misfortunes, than to anything like a spendthrifthabit.'
"'Mere hair-splitting this, sir,' replied he, almost rudely. 'He whospends what is not his own, I have but one name for. It matters littlein my estimation whether he extorts the supply by a bill or a bullet.'
"I own to you, Harry, I burned to retort to a speech the tone and mannerof which were both more offensive than the words; but the stranger'sage, his venerable appearance, and something like deep and recent sorrowabout him, restrained me, and I caught, by a look from Repton, that hewas grateful for my forbearance.
"'Come, sir,' said he, addressing me, 'you say you know Captain Martin;now let me ask you one question: Is there any one trait or feature ofhis character to which, if his present misfortunes were to passaway, you could attach a hope of amendment? Has not this life ofbill-renewing, these eternal straits for cash--with all the humiliationsthat accompany them,--made him a mere creature of schemes and plots,--ausurer in spirit, though a pauper in fact?'
"'When I say, sir, that you are addressing this demand to one whomCaptain Martin deems his friend, you will see the impropriety you havefallen into.'
"'My young friend is right,' broke in Repton. 'The Court rules againstthe question; nor would it
be evidence even if answered.'
"I was angry at this interference of Repton's. I wanted to reply to thisman myself; but still, as I looked at his sorrow-struck features, andsaw what I fancied the marks of a proud suffering spirit, I was wellsatisfied at not having given way to temper; still more so did I feel ashe turned towards me, and, with a manner of ineffable gentleness, said,'I entreat you to pardon me, sir, for an outburst of which I am alreadyashamed. A rude life and some bitter experiences have made me hardof heart and coarse in speech; still, it is only in moments offorgetfulness that I cease to remember what indulgence he owes to otherswho has such need of forgiveness himself.'
"I grasped his hand at once, and felt that his pressed mine like afriend's.
"'You spoke of going down to the West,' said he, after a brief pause.'I start for that country to-night; you would do me a great favor shouldyou accompany me.'
"I acceded at once, and he went on. 'Repton was to have been of theparty, but business delays him a few days in town.'
"'I 'll join you before the end of the week,' said Repton; 'by that timeMr. Massingbred will have expended all his borough blandishments and befree to give us his society.'
"Though the old lawyer now tried, and tried cleverly, to lead us awayto lighter, pleasanter themes, the attempt was a failure; each felt, Isuspect, some oppressive weight on his spirits that indisposed him toless serious talk; and again we came back to the Martins, the strangerevidently seeking to learn all he could of the disposition and temper ofthe young man.
"'It is as I thought,' said he, at last. 'It is the weak, sickly toneof the day has brought all this corruption upon us! Once upon a timethe vices and follies of young men took their rise in their severalnatures,--this one gambled, the other drank, and so on,--the mass,however, was wonderfully sound and healthy; the present school, however,is to ape a uniformity, so that each may show himself in the livery ofhis fellows, thus imbibing wickedness he has no taste for, and none beless depraved and heartless than those around him. Let the women butfollow the fashion, and there 's an end of us, as the great people weboasted to be!'
"I give you, so well as I can trust my memory, his words, Harry, but Icannot give you a certain sardonic bitterness,--a tone of mingled scornand sorrow, such as I never before witnessed. He gave me the impressionof being one who, originally frank, generous, and trustful, had, byintercourse with the world and commerce with mankind, grown to suspectevery one and disbelieve in honesty, and yet could not bring his heartto acknowledge what his head had determined. In this wise, at least, Iread his character from the opportunities I had of conversing with himon our journey. It was easy to see that he was a gentleman,--taking theword in the widest of its acceptations,--but from things that droppedfrom him, I could gather that his life had been that of an adventurer.He had been in the sea and land services of many of those new statesof Southern America, had even risen to political importance in some ofthem; had possessed mines and vast tracts of territory one day, andthe next saw himself 'without a piastre.' He had conducted operationsagainst the Indians, and made treaties with them, and latterly had livedas the elected chief of a tribe in the west of the Rocky Mountains. Buthe knew civilized as well as savage life, had visited Spain in the rankof an envoy, and was familiar with all the great society of Rome, andthe intrigues of its prince-bishops. The only theme, however, on whichhe really warmed was sport. The prairies brought out all his enthusiasm,and then he spoke like one carried away by glorious recollections ofa time when, as he said himself, 'heart and hand and eye never failedhim.'
"When he spoke of family ties or home affections, it was in a spirit ofalmost mockery, which puzzled me. His reasoning was that the attachmentswe form are only emanations of our own selfishness. We love, simply tobe loved again. Whereas, were we single-hearted, we should be satisfiedto know that those dear to us were well and happy, and only seek toserve them without demonstration or display.
"Am I wearying you, Harry, by dwelling on the traits of a man who, forthe brief space I have known him, has made the most profound impressionupon me? Even where I dissent--as is often the case--from his views,I have to own to myself that were I _he_, I should think and reasonprecisely as he does. I fancied at first that, like many men who hadquitted civilized life for the rude ways of the 'bush,' he would havecontrasted the man of refinement unfavorably with the savage, but he wastoo keen and acute for such a sweeping fallacy; he saw the good and evilin both, and sensibly remarked how independent of all education werethe really strong characteristics of human nature. 'There is not a greatquality of our first men,' said he, 'that I have not found to existamong the wild tribes of the Far West, nor is there an excellenceof savage nature I have not witnessed amidst the polished and thepampered.'
"From what I can collect, he is only here passingly; some family matterhas brought him over to this country; but he is already impatient to beback to his old haunts and associates, and his home beside the Orinoco.He has even asked me to come and visit him there; and from all I can seeI should be as likely to attain distinction among the Chaymas as inthe House of Commons, and should find the soft turf of the Savannahs aspleasant as the Opposition benches. In fact, Harry, I have halfpromised to accept his invitation; and if he renew it with anything likeearnestness, I am resolved to go.
"I am just setting out for the Hendersons', and while the horses arebeing harnessed I have re-read your letter. Of course I have 'countedthe cost,'--I have weighed the question to a pennyweight! I couldalready write down the list of those who will not know me at all, thosewho will know me a little, and the still fewer who will know my wife!Can you not see, my dear friend, that where one drags the anchor soeasily, the mooring-ground was never good? The society to which youbelong by such slender attachments gives no wound by separation from it.
"My anxiety now is on a very different score: it is that she will stillrefuse me. The hope I cling to is that she will see in my persistence aproof of sincerity. I would not, if I could, bring any family influenceto my aid, and yet, short of this, there is nothing I would not do toinsure success.
"I wish I had never re-opened your letter; that vein of sarcasticcoolness which runs through it will never turn me from my purpose. Youseem to forget, besides, that you are talking to a man of the world,just as hackneyed, just as 'used up' as yourself. I should like to seeyou assume this indolent dalliance before La Henderson! Take my word forit, Harry, you 'd be safer with the impertinence amongst some of yourduchesses in Pall Mall. You say that great beauty in a woman, likegenius in a man, is a kind of brevet nobility, and yet you add thatthe envy of the world will never weary of putting the possessor 'on histitle.' How gladly would I accept this challenge! Ay, Harry, I tell you,in all defiance, that your proudest could not vie with her!
"If I wanted a proof of the vassalage of the social state we live in, Ihave it before me in the fact that a man like yourself, wellborn, young,rich, and high-hearted, should place the judgments and prejudices ofhalf a dozen old tabbies of either sex above all the promptings of anoble ambition--all the sentiments of a generous devotion. Yourstarling cry of 'the Steward's daughter,' then, does not deter, it onlydetermines the purpose
"Of yours faithfully,
"Jack Massingbred."
"You 'll see by the papers that I have accepted the Chiltern Hundreds.This is the first step.--now for the second!"