The Adventures of Philip

by William Makepeace Thackeray

wives.

  We have said by whose invitation and encouragement General Baynes was induced to

  bring his family to the boarding-house at Paris; the instigation, namely, of his

  friend and companion in arms, the gallant Colonel Bunch. When the Baynes family

  arrived, the Bunches were on the steps of madame's house, waving a welcome to

  the new-comers. It was, "Here we are, Bunch, my boy."

  "Glad to see you, Baynes. Right well you're looking, and so's Mrs. B."

  And the general replies, "And so are you, Bunch; and so do you, Mrs. B."

  "How do, boys? Hoy d'you do, Miss Charlotte? Come to show the Paris fellows what

  a pretty girl is, hey? Blooming like a rose, Baynes!"

  "I'm telling the general," cries the colonel to the general's lady, "the girl's

  the very image of her mother."

  In this case poor Charlotte must have looked like a yellow rose, for Mrs. Baynes

  was of a bilious temperament and complexion, whereas Miss Charlotte was as fresh

  pink and white as��what shall we say?��as the very freshest strawberries mingled

  with the very nicest cream.

  The two old soldiers were of very great comfort to one another. They toddled

  down to Galignani's together daily, and read the papers there. They went and

  looked at the reviews in the Carrousel, and once or twice to the Champ de

  Mars;��recognizing here and there the numbers of the regiments against which

  they had been engaged in the famous ancient wars. They did not brag in the least

  about their achievements, they winked and understood each other. They got their

  old uniforms out of their old boxes, and took a voiture de remise, by Jove! and

  went to be presented to Louis Philippe. They bought a catalogue; and went to the

  Louvre, and wagged their honest old heads before the pictures; and, I daresay,

  winked and nudged each other's brave old sides at some of the nymphs in the

  statue gallery. They went out to Versailles with their families; loyally stood

  treat to the ladies at the restaurateur's. (Bunch had taken down a memorandum in

  his pocket-book from Benyon, who had been the duke's aide-de-camp in the last

  campaign, to "go to Beauvillier's," only Beauvillier's had been shut up for

  twenty years.) They took their families and Charlotte to the Th��tre Fran�ais,

  to a tragedy; and they had books: and they said it was the most confounded

  nonsense they ever saw in their lives; and I am bound to say that Bunch, in the

  back of the box, snored so, that, though in retirement, he created quite a

  sensation. "Corneal," he owns, was too much for him: give him Shakspeare: give

  him John Kemble: give him Mrs. Siddons: give him Mrs. Jordan. But as for this

  sort of thing? "I think our play days are over, Baynes��hey?" And I also believe

  that Miss Charlotte Baynes, whose knowledge of the language was slight as yet,

  was very much bewildered during the tragedy, and could give but an imperfect

  account of it. But then Philip Firmin was in the orchestra stalls; and had he

  not sent three bouquets for the three ladies, regretting that he could not come

  to see somebody in the Champs Elys�es, because it was his post day, and he must

  write his letter for the Pall Mall Gazette? There he was, her Cid; her peerless

  champion: and to give up father and mother for him? our little Chim�ne thought

  such a sacrifice not too difficult. After that dismal attempt at the theatre,

  the experiment was not repeated. The old gentlemen preferred their whist, to

  those pompous Alexandrines sung through the nose, which Colonel Bunch, a

  facetious little colonel, used to imitate, and, I am given to understand, very

  badly.

  The worthy officers compared madame's to an East Indian ship, quarrels and all.

  Selina went on just in that way on board the Burrumpooter. Always rows about

  precedence, and the services, and the deuce knows what. Women always will.

  Selina Bunch went on in that way: and Eliza Baynes also went on in that way: but

  I should think, from the most trustworthy information, that Eliza was worse than

  Selina.

  "About any person with a title, that woman will make a fool of herself to the

  end of the chapter," remarked Selina of her friend. "You remember how she used

  to go on at Barrackpore about that little shrimp Stoney Battersby, because he

  was an Irish viscount's son? See how she flings herself at the head of this Mrs.

  Boldero��with her airs, and her paint, and her black front! I can't bear the

  woman! I know she has not paid madame. I know she is no better than she should

  be; and to see Eliza Baynes coaxing her, and sidling up to her, and flattering

  her:��it's too bad, that it is! A woman who owes ever so much to madame! a woman

  who doesn't pay her washer-woman!"

  "Just like the Burrumpooter over again, my dear," cries Colonel Bunch. "You and

  Eliza Baynes were always quarrelling; that's the fact. Why did you ask her to

  come here? I knew you would begin again, as soon as you met." And the truth was

  that these ladies were always fighting and making up again.

  "So you and Mrs. Bunch were old acquaintances?" asked Mrs. Boldero of her new

  friend. "My dear Mrs. Baynes! I should hardly have thought it: your manners are

  so different! Your friend, if I may be so free as to speak, has the camp manner.

  You have not the camp manner at all. I should have thought you�� excuse me the

  phrase, but I'm so open, and always speak my mind out��you haven't the camp

  manner at all. You seem as if you were one of us. Minna! doesn't Mrs. Baynes put

  you in mind of Lady Hm��?" (The name is inaudible, in consequence of Mrs.

  Boldero's exceeding shyness in mentioning names; but the girls see the likeness

  to dear Lady Hm�� at once.) "And when you bring your dear girl to London, you'll

  know the lady I mean, and judge for yourself. I assure you I am not disparaging

  you, my dear Mrs. Baynes, in comparing you to her!"

  And so the conversation goes on. If Mrs. Major MacWhirter at Tours chose to

  betray secrets, she could give extracts from her sister's letters to show how

  profound was the impression created in Mrs. General Baynes' mind by the

  professions and conversation of the Scotch lady.

  "Didn't the general shoot and love deer-stalking? The dear general must come to

  Gaberlunzie Castle, where she would promise him a Highland welcome. Her brother

  Strongitharm was the most amiable of men; adored her and her girls: there was

  talk even of marrying Minna to the captain, but she for her part could not

  endure the marriage of first-cousins. There was a tradition against such

  marriages in their family. Of three Bolderos and Strongitharms who married their

  first-cousins, one was drowned in Gaberlunzie lake three weeks after the

  marriage; one lost his wife by a galloping consumption, and died a monk at Rome;

  and the third married a fortnight before the battle of Culloden, where he was

  slain at the head of the Strongitharms. Mrs. Baynes had no idea of the splendour

  of Gaberlunzie Castle; seventy bedrooms and thirteen company rooms, besides the

  picture gallery! In Edinburgh, and Strongitharm had the right to wear his bonnet

  in the presence of his sovereign." A bonnet! how very odd, my dear! But with

  ostrich plumes, I daresay
it may look well, especially as the Highlanders wear

  frocks too. "Lord Strongitharm had no house in London, having almost ruined

  himself in building his princely castle in the north. Mrs. Baynes must come

  there and meet their noble relatives and all the Scottish nobility." Nor do I

  care about these vanities, my dear, but to bring my sweet Charlotte into the

  world: is it not a mother's duty?

  Not only to her sister, but likewise to Charlotte's friends of Queen Square, did

  Mrs. Baynes impart these delightful news. But this is in the first ardour of the

  friendship which arises between Mrs. Baynes and Mrs. Boldero, and before those

  unpleasant money disputes of which we have spoken.

  Afterwards, when the two ladies have quarrelled regarding the memorable "sang

  song frong," I think Mrs. Bunch came round to Mrs. Boldero's side. "Eliza Baynes

  is too hard on her. It is too cruel to insult her before those two unhappy

  daughters. The woman is an odious woman, and a vulgar woman, and a schemer, and

  I always said so. But to box her ears before her daughters��her honourable

  friend of last week! it's a shame of Eliza!"

  "My dear, you'd better tell her so!" says Bunch drily. "But if you do, tell her

  when I'm out of the way, please!" And accordingly, one day when the two old

  officers return from their stroll, Mrs. Bunch informs the colonel that she has

  had it out with Eliza; and Mrs. Baynes, with a heated face, tells the general

  that she and Mrs. Colonel Bunch have quarrelled; and she is determined it shall

  be for the last time. So that poor Madame de Smolensk has to interpose between

  Mrs. Baynes and Mrs. Boldero; between Mrs. Baynes and Mrs. Bunch; and to sit

  surrounded by glaring eyes, and hissing inuendoes, and in the midst of feuds

  unhealable. Of course, from the women the quarrelling will spread to the

  gentlemen. That always happens. Poor Madame trembles. Again Bunch gives his

  neighbour his word that it is like the Burrumpooter East Indiaman��the

  Burrumpooter in very bad weather, too.

  "At any rate, we won't be lugged into it, Baynes, my boy!" says the colonel, who

  is of a sanguine temperament, to his friend.

  "Hey, hey! don't be too sure, Bunch; don't be too sure!" sighs the other

  veteran, who, it may be, is of a more desponding turn, as, after a battle at

  luncheon, in which the Amazons were fiercely engaged, the two old warriors take

  their walk to Galignani's.

  Towards his Charlotte's relatives poor Philip was respectful by duty and a sense

  of interest, perhaps. Before marriage, especially, men are very kind to the

  relatives of the beloved object. They pay compliments to mamma; they listen to

  papa's old stories, and laugh appositely; they bring presents for the innocent

  young ones, and let the little brothers kick their shins. Philip endured the

  juvenile Bayneses very kindly: he took the boys to Franconi's, and made his

  conversation as suitable as he could to the old people. He was fond of the old

  general, a simple and worthy old man; and had, as we have said, a hearty

  sympathy and respect for Madame Smolensk, admiring her constancy and goodhumour

  under her many trials. But those who have perused his memoirs are aware that Mr.

  Firmin could make himself, on occasions, not a little disagreeable. When

  sprawling on a sofa, engaged in conversation with his charmer, he would not

  budge when other ladies entered the room. He scowled at them, if he did not like

  them. He was not at the least trouble to conceal his likes or dislikes. He had a

  manner of fixing his glass in his eye, putting his thumbs into the armholes of

  his waistcoat, and talking and laughing very loudly at his own jokes or

  conceits, which was not pleasant or respectful to ladies.

  "Your loud young friend, with the cracked boots, is very maurais ton, my dear

  Mrs. Baynes," Mrs. Boldero remarked to her new friend, in the first ardour of

  their friendship. "A relative of Lord Ringwood's, is he? Lord Ringwood is a very

  queer person. A son of that dreadful Dr. Firmin, who ran away after cheating

  everybody? Poor young man! He can't help having such a father, as you say, and

  most good, and kind, and generous of you to say so. And the general and the

  Honourable Philip Ringwood were early companions together, I daresay. But,

  having such an unfortunate father as Dr. Firmin, I think Mr. Firmin might be a

  little less prononc�; don't you? And to see him in cracked boots, sprawling over

  the sofas, and hear him, when my loves are playing their duets, laughing and

  talking so very loud,��I confess isn't pleasant to me. I am not used to that

  kind of monde, nor are my dear loves. You are under great obligations to him,

  and he has behaved nobly, you say? Of course. To get into your society an

  unfortunate young man will be on his best behaviour, though he certainly does

  not condescend to be civil to us. But ... What! That young man engaged to that

  lovely, innocent, charming child, your daughter? My dear creature, you frighten

  me! A man, with such a father; and, excuse me, with such a manner; and without a

  penny in the world, engaged to Miss Baynes! Goodness, powers! It must never be.

  It shall not be, my dear Mrs. Baynes. Why, I have written to my nephew Hector to

  come over, Strongitharm's favourite son and my favourite nephew. I have told him

  that there is a sweet young creature here, whom he must and ought to see. How

  well that dear child would look presiding at Strongitharm Castle? And you are

  going to give her to that dreadful young man with the loud voice and the cracked

  boots��that smoky young man��oh, impossible!"

  Madame had, no doubt, given a very favourable report of her new lodgers to the

  other inmates of her house; and she and Mrs. Boldero had concluded that all

  general officers returning from India were immensely rich. To think that her

  daughter might be the Honourable Mrs. Strongitharm, Baroness Strongitharm, and

  walk in a coronation in robes, with a coronet in her hand! Mrs. Baynes yielded

  in loyalty to no woman, but I fear her wicked desires compassed a speedy royal

  demise, as this thought passed through her mind of the Honourable Lenox

  Strongitharm. She looked him out in the Peerage, and found that young nobleman

  designated as the Captain of Strongitharm. Charlotte might be the Honourable

  Mrs. Captain of Strongitharm! When poor Phil stalked in after dinner that

  evening in his shabby boots and smoky paletot, Mrs. Baynes gave him but a grim

  welcome. He went and prattled unconsciously by the side of his little Charlotte,

  whose tender eyes dwelt upon his, and whose fair cheeks flung out their blushes

  of welcome. He prattled away. He laughed out loud whilst Minna and Brenda were

  thumping their duet. "Taisez-vous donc, Monsieur Philippe," cries madame,

  putting her finger to her lip. The Honourable Mrs. Boldero looked at dear Mrs.

  Baynes, and shrugged her shoulders. Poor Philip! would he have laughed so loudly

  (and so rudely, too, as I own) had he known what was passing in the minds of

  those women? Treason was passing there: and before that glance of knowing scorn,

  shot from the Honourable Mrs. Boldero's eyes, dear Mrs. General Baynes faltered.

&n
bsp; How very curt and dry she was with Philip! how testy with Charlotte! Poor

  Philip, knowing that his charmer was in the power of her mother, was pretty

  humble to this dragon; and attempted, by uncouth flatteries, to soothe and

  propitiate her. She had a queer, dry humour, and loved a joke; but Phil's fell

  very flat this night. Mrs. Baynes received his pleasantries with an "Oh,

  indeed!" She was sure she heard one of the children crying in their nursery.

  "Do, pray, go and see, Charlotte, what that child is crying about." And away

  goes poor Charlotte, having but dim presentiment of misfortune as yet. Was not

  mamma often in an ill humour; and were they not all used to her scoldings?

  As for Mrs. Colonel Bunch, I am sorry to say that, up to this time, Philip was

  not only no favourite with her, but was heartily disliked by that lady. I have

  told you our friend's faults. He was loud: he was abrupt: he was rude often: and

  often gave just cause of annoyance by his laughter, his disrespect, and his

  swaggering manner. To those whom he liked he was as gentle as a woman; and

  treated them with an extreme tenderness and touching rough respect. But those

  persons about whom he was indifferent, he never took the least trouble to

  conciliate or please. If they told long stories, for example, he would turn on

  his heel, or interrupt them by observations of his own on some quite different

  subject. Mrs. Colonel Bunch, then, positively disliked that young man, and I

  think had very good reasons for her dislike. As for Bunch, Bunch said to Baynes,

  "Cool hand, that young fellow!" and winked. And Baynes said to Bunch, "Queer

  chap. Fine fellow, as I have reason to know pretty well. I play a club. No club?

  I mark honours and two tricks." And the game went on. Clancy hated Philip: a

  meek man, whom Firmin had yet managed to offend. "That man," the pote Clancy

  remarked, "has a manner of treading on me corrans which is intolerable to me!"

  The truth is, Philip was always putting his foot on some other foot, and

  trampling it. And as for the Boldero clan, Mr. Firmin treated them with the most

  amusing insolence, and ignored them as if they were out of existence altogether.

  So you see the poor fellow had not with his poverty learned the least lesson of

  humility, or acquired the very earliest rudiments of the art of making friends.

  I think his best friend in the house was its mistress, Madame Smolensk. Mr.

  Philip treated her as an equal: which mark of affability he was not in the habit

  of bestowing on all persons. Some great people, some rich people, some

  would-be-fine people, he would patronize with an insufferable audacity. Rank or

  wealth do not seem somehow to influence this man, as they do common mortals. He

  would tap a bishop on the waistcoat, and contradict a duke at their first

  meeting. I have seen him walk out of church during a stupid sermon, with an

  audible remark perhaps to that effect, and as if it were a matter of course that

  he should go. If the company bored him at dinner, he would go to sleep in the

  most unaffected manner. At home we were always kept in a pleasant state of

  anxiety, not only by what he did and said, but by the idea of what he might do

  or say next. He did not go to sleep at madame's boarding-house, preferring to

  keep his eyes open to look at pretty Charlotte's. And were there ever such

  sapphires as his? she thought. And hers? Ah! if they have tears to shed, I hope

  a kind fate will dry them quickly!

  CHAPTER V. TREATS OF DANCING, DINING, DYING.

  Old schoolboys remember how, when pious �neas was compelled by painful

  circumstances to quit his country, he and his select band of Trojans founded a

  new Troy, where they landed; raising temples to the Trojan gods; building

  streets with Trojan names; and endeavouring, to the utmost of their power, to

  recal their beloved native place. In like manner, British Trojans and French