The Volcano Lover

by Susan Sontag

  But then everything came out for the best, as it always did for my darling, when she was young. There was the lowest time of all, after she told Sir Harry she was with child, I told her not to tell him, but she wouldn’t mind me. And he turned us off and we came back to London, she with child, though it didn’t show, and soon we had not a farthing, owing rent in the doss house, and she took herself off and was gone for eight days. How drear I felt while I waited, thinking all those men, under bridges, against alley walls, you know how men are. But when she came back, to spare me, for she was always thinking of my feelings, she told me it was just one man the whole time, and a gentleman, walking with his fine friends in Vauxhall Gardens though he was a foreigner, who gave her all that money, enough to feed us a month. And just as that was running out was the letter from Charles and we were saved. And now it was the same with Charles’s uncle, with us living now as we never did before, much better than with Charles.

  His house seemed so small to me now. How quick this old Mary got herself used to being waited on. One day in a doss house, the next day in a palace! That is life, I always say. Or the other way round. It was a handsome city, I liked to see the sea, though I couldn’t understand what nobody said, and she told me, you will have to learn to speak the language. But I never did, which must be one reason people thought I was my darling’s maid. But I was her mother.

  As I said, the uncle was really a high person there. He was close with the King and Queen, who was the first king and queen we had ever met, so we felt very curious. The King had an awful big nose and the Queen had a big lower lip that stuck out. This was a surprise. But it was still a wonder to see them in their gold carriages.

  I do not say my darling was happy at first. She had to get over the other one for she had a tender heart, and she loved Charles so much. She cried and cried, for finally a letter come from Charles who told her to go with his uncle. I did not see why she hated the notion so much. The old man was giving her lessons in French and Italian, and he was taking us in his carriage and showing her off to everybody. He couldn’t move his eyes off her, you could see he would give her anything, but she said no. She had to find her own way. But to be sure she got fond of him, he being so kind and she so good-humored, she could not help being grateful to anyone who loved her, and so, finally, all was well, and she went into the old man’s bed.

  I breathed a sigh of relief because I knew that meant we could stay on here awhile, maybe even a twelvemonth longer before we would have to go back to England, and no point to worry on what would happen then. Let her enjoy herself, I said to myself, she is still young. She had a teacher come three times a day to sing with her, and in the neighbor room sometimes I could not tell who was singing. When I asked Valerio how a man could sing so high, he laughed at my ignorance, and said because the teacher had his thingums cut off when just a lad, and that was the custom here to make a good singer, though forbid by the law, but the churches used all such boys they could get. And he touched his own thingums and crossed himself. And when I told my darling, thinking she would be as surprised as me, she said she knew it, and I should accept that we be now in a foreign country where they do things different than back in dear old England, and that he was a great singer, who had told her she had a wonderful voice. But then he is not a man, I say. Is he a woman. No, she said, he is a man, and some of them do fancy women and women chase after them. But what do he do if it don’t rise, I asked. And then she shook her head and said she was surprised to learn I knew so little of the arts of bed as to not imagine what. And I had to own that I never met a man who wanted anything but one thing and that very quick, but she told me there were some men, not too many, who studied to please a woman just like a woman studied to please a man. I never heard of that, said I. And she said she was sorry I had not known that with men. But I told my young lady I had jolly times with her father, rest his soul, and Joe, and some others, and that Welsh thief of my heart, Cadogan. And to watch her tongue and not take on airs with her old mother now she was living like a fine lady, but remember the simple folk she come from. And she said she never did forget who she was, and was just teasing me. But I could not help wondering what man had been such a fancy lover. It could not have been Sir Harry, who was always drunk, or Charles, always washing his hands, that is not a good sign in a man. And the old uncle, much as he doted on her, seemed not such a man for bed. But I did not ask. We always told all, but I did not care to see her too clear in my mind lying with men. To me she would always be my little girl, with her pale skin and wide, wide eyes. I am glad she knew men, for what would a woman be without a man, especially a woman like her who hopes to better herself, to go up in the world. It can’t be done no other way. And yet I wish sometimes the world were topsy-turvy. I mean that a woman did not have to please a man if she is such a bold clever girl as my darling. But this is only my view.

  And I said to her, how long do you think it will last. And she said what, and I said with the uncle, and she laughed and laughed and said, forever. And I said, don’t be foolish, you know how men are, surely by now you understand, after what Charles did to you. And she said, no he is different, he really loves me and I mean to love him and make him as happy as I can.

  I think she was happy with the old man. For certainly she made him very happy, and he just doted on her more and more. And he was good to me too, and gave me a little pocket money. And I always ate with them and was asked to stay when the guests came. He had many rocks and statues and paintings and such, the house was full of them everywhere you turned, I am certainly glad I did not have the dusting and polishing of them. And she learned the names of them, and could follow anything he said. When he had clothes made for her, some was so she could look like a lady on one of his old red-and-black vases which he had everywhere, and she dressed up like in the vases and would pose for the guests and everyone admired her. I would sit in one of the first chairs, but the guests did not talk to me. Some was from all over Europe at his parties, even Russia. And wherever they came from they thought my darling was the most beautiful woman they had ever seen, and the old man was so proud of her. It was almost like what I felt, as if he was her father, though you could see he was a healthy man and could not wait to put his hands on her, but then many fathers are like that with their daughters. Who knows if she would not have had a hard time with old Lyon, who died when she was only two months, if he lived for another ten years. Men have their ways, and many cannot leave a woman alone even if she is their own flesh and blood. The only pure love is between a mother and a child. But best if the child be a daughter, for a son grows up and becomes another man. But a daughter can be yours all your life.

  And so we had many years of happiness in this foreign land, though I always found it hard to believe in happiness, but my darling did. Whenever matters took a bad turn I would see the worst, and she would say no, it will all work out. And she was always right, for such a long time. She said she would be her ladyship one day, and I told her she was daft. And she was right and the old man did marry her, and that made this old Mary his mother-in-law, and he older than me. But he was very proper and always called me by my name, Mrs. Cadogan. I wager my Welshman would be sorry he had not kept me if he could know how well I would turn out to be.

  It was when we went back to England that he married my darling, which his family did not like it at all and it was hardly a wedding with so few people, though in a rich church. It did me good to see the look on Charles’s face. But my darling never held anger against him, all those years she sent letters, she being the kind who always loves one she loved even if she was used ill, women are like that, as I still think with fondness of old Lyon, my darling’s father, and God help me, my handsome Cadogan. I don’t think now of Joe Hart, who drifted from mind, so perhaps I did not love him so much.

  While we stayed in England I went back to the village and saw the relations that had not died, which my poor sister with scrofula had, and I gave them money and presents from my darling. She neve
r forgot her family. She pined to see her daughter, who was a big girl now, and I was vexed she would not let me go with her. I went everywhere with her, she always wanted my company to talk things over when it was done. But she said she had to be alone for this. I could see she was in for a sore visit, I was sorry I couldn’t protect her, as I always did.

  When she came back to me she said, my heart is aching. We had not met since she was four years old, and now she found me again and grew to love me, and I have left her. And the fond mother wept, which was the first time since when we come to the uncle’s house, who was now her husband, when she found Charles was not coming to fetch her, Charles had sold her to the uncle. It is not my destiny to be a mother, she said. I may be married to him now, but he still expects from me to be like a mistress. And she cried again. But imagine, I said as I dried her tears, imagine a woman has not shed a tear once for five whole years, how many women can say that, you should count your blessings.

  Then we went back, and we saw a balloon go up in Paris with a man in it, and my darling met the French queen, but she was used to meeting royalty now. And now she was her ladyship, and I was madam her ladyship’s mother, madam mother of the ambassador’s wife. And men took their hats off to me, although many still took me for a servant or her chaperone. I never learned Italian. I don’t have a mind like my daughter’s. I was the woman in a black dress and white bonnet nobody took mind of, except when they was told who I was. I was her mother.

  Now my darling had what she wanted, we could be easy and just enjoying ourselves when we ate and drank and laughed. I taught one of the cooks some dishes like we had in the village, and I would save them for her, and she would come to my room late at night after one of those grand evenings she and her husband had to go to or the opera. Guttling, we called it, it was our secret. And we could have a bit of good English gin, none of your outlandish wines.

  Her husband said I was always welcome at the opera, for sometimes they went almost every night, but I had no aim to go after the first time. I told my darling, what was the use since I can’t catch what they say, and she laughed, I like to make her laugh at me, and said I was very foolish, and didn’t have to understand the words, it was like a play, only with music. And the music was so beautiful. So I did go some but didn’t take much from it, but my darling and her husband would sit very quiet and listen. But then they could both speak the language, while all about us was eating and drinking and playing cards and from the noises I heard and the sound of a falling chair even you know what, and the King used to carry on very loud in his box, so what do you expect from the rest of them. I never could tell what was going to happen down on the stage, where not all of them was really in the play. My darling explained this to me. One of them there she said was to remind the singers in case they forgot their lines, so I guess they didn’t understand what they was saying either. And the singers was free to behave on the stage as they pleased, just like the fine folk in the boxes. In one opera was a fat lady in a corner with two men dressed up very fine by her chair that my darling told me was the mother and two admirers of the prima donna, right there on the stage! The mother had a little table by her chair with vinegar and mirrors and sweets and gargles and combs which her daughter might suddenly have need, while somebody else was having an aria.

  That’s me, I told my darling. That’s what I’ll always be for you. And she hugged me, and I could see she had a little wetness in her eyes, she knew how much I loved her. How she was THE LIGHT OF MY LIFE, if I can speak like they do in plays. I would never leave her, never let her down. If she wasn’t always so happy, she wanted so much to be happy, she loved to enjoy herself, and we had good times ourselves when we were alone or with her maids. They loved her so much too, laughing and singing and getting tipsy and telling naughty stories. What a beautiful life she had. How lucky I was to share it with her.

  To be sure, nothing good lasts forever, although all this lasted a very long time. I never saw or heard a husband so in love with his wife as the ambassador with my daughter, he worshipped her. And I saw some guests winking and nodding at how he fussed on her, this being years after they begun together and been married. They took him for a fond old fool for loving her so much, but he could not never love her enough far as I was concerned. He wasn’t worth half her, for all his Sir This and Knight of That. Any man could count himself blessed to be loved by her. My daughter was a treasure.

  And he was so much older, so it was natural a man more her age should take her fancy. It was well done with him and he made her easy, but she was still a healthy young woman full of spirit, and who could resist the little admiral, everybody cheered him coming fresh from his great victory in Egypt against Boney’s fleet, he sunk all the ships himself, but now he was all sick and weak. It gave me something to do. For what did I have to do except sit about and watch myself grow old, until the old man died, and then we would go back to England. But then it turned out we were living in stirring times, it made me proud to be English, which I never forgot I was, and the admiral came to live with us, and he could not stop staring at my darling. He looked so hard at her all the time I could swear he saw her with his poor blind eye too. The first days he was in bed, and I was helping my darling nurse him, and I could see clear as I saw that old volcano from the window that he was going to love her and she would love him, and we would have a whole new life before us with the admiral. So we would be going back to England sooner than I thought. Because even though the admiral was married, once he discovered he was in love with my daughter and had found the best woman in the world he certainly would never have anything more to do with his wife again. That’s the way men are.

  Also I guess as how I still had a bit of fire in me myself, for I liked to see my darling’s heart woke again. And it would give me something to do, once they found out they were in love, though that took longer than I expected, he being different, whoever heard of a man being faithful to his wife. But he was, my darling told me he had only fallen once with some woman in another port in Italy a few years ago, but a gentlewoman and not a whore. I certainly never heard of a seagoing man like that who was a real man, but then I never heard my darling say fallen. She had her serious spells now, she even went to one of the churches sometimes and prayed in the Romish way. As I say, they took their time about it like two innocent young girls, just looking at each other and looking away, but I knew what was going on.

  And then everything happened at once, and the French was coming, and we had to pack up everything, and the old ambassador was all broken and quiet for quitting his house and his furniture, we left in the middle of the night in a dreadful storm. My darling’s suitor rescued us and the King and Queen and everyone, but the crossing was terrible, with five and six in a cabin, all sleeping on cots and mattresses or on the floor. And we never went to sleep. I put the King to bed, what a big baby he was, he was holding a little holy bell and crossing himself. And my darling put the Queen to bed, the Queen and her was best of friends, for she went every day to the palace to see the Queen. And then we just went around the boat helping people vomit and cleaning up a little. I wasn’t feared, and my darling wasn’t feared at all. She was the bravest, a true heroine. Everybody admired her. And we did pass safely, though the Queen lost her little boy, that was the saddest sight to see, my darling holding that child to her breast and trying to keep it alive. I think I knew then she was meant to be a mother, and would have a child after all, that would really be hers by this little admiral who loved her so much. A mother knows this sort of thing.

  I was so happy for her, to see her happy so, the way she was never happy before. And all those years being madam the mother of the ambassador’s wife I didn’t have much to do except hand her her combs and sweets and gargle like the prima donna’s mother on the stage, but now I could help her, I could watch the old man, when he was coming and going, when the two lovers wanted to be together. The admiral was like a little boy with her. I could see he wanted me to like him, for he lost his m
other when he was a lad, even before he went to sea, my darling told me. He wasn’t like most men. He really liked to be with women and talk to them.

  So we were closer than ever, and the only time apart was when they had to go back to Naples and stop the revolution after the French had left, they couldn’t take me, they left me behind in Palermo for six weeks. That was the longest time I ever was separate from my darling after she was sixteen. We were always together, she knew she could count on me.

  After they came back we went on his boat to see the sights, and had a party for her birthday on the boat, but she was not such a good sailor this time, being with child now, just as I knew she would. Her husband did take it very well, better than some might, never saying a word, but then he was old and where was he going to find another woman like my daughter. No such woman ever existed. Both of them knew that. So the old ambassador wasn’t too sad, except that he could not be ambassador anymore, and everybody was glad to go back to England, we had a fine journey, though all those carriages tired out my old bones, and those cannons booming everywhere we went for the admiral was a little hard on my ears. And when we got home safe, he was greeted the same way but more, it took us three days to reach London. And then there was something of their own to go through, my darling had warned me, with the admiral’s wife herself waiting in a hotel in King Street. So when we entered London they put Miss Knight and me first in Albemarle Street, where we was to stay. Miss Knight was with us for a long time, she truly admired my daughter. I was so weary I took straight to my room, but the next morning when I went to look for Miss Knight if she wanted breakfast, I found she had not ever spent the night there. She had left an hour after we arrived the hotel-keeper told me, and run to the house of a friend, for someone had come to the hotel and told wicked stories about my darling, as that she was not fit company for a respectable woman. And so, hard as it is to believe, this Miss Knight we had been so kind to, my daughter insisted on taking her in when her mother died, we had her with us one of the family for near two years, we never saw her again.