The Newcomes

by William Makepeace Thackeray

too, yet somehow she looks grander,"--and here the lad laughed again.

  "And do you know, I often think that as good a lady as Aunt Anne herself,

  is old Aunt Honeyman at Brighton--that is, in all essentials, you know.

  For she is not proud, and she is not vain, and she never says an unkind

  word behind anybody's back, and she does a deal of kindness to the poor

  without appearing to crow over them, you know; and she is not a bit

  ashamed of letting lodgings, or being poor herself, as sometimes I think

  some of our family----"

  "I thought we were going to speak no ill of them?" says the Colonel,

  smiling.

  "Well, it only slipped out unawares," says Clive, laughing; "but at

  Newcome when they go on about the Newcomes, and that great ass, Barnes

  Newcome, gives himself his airs, it makes me die of laughing. That time I

  went down to Newcome, I went to see old Aunt Sarah, and she told me

  everything, and showed me the room where my grandfather--you know; and do

  you know I was a little hurt at first, for I thought we were swells till

  then. And when I came back to school, where perhaps I had been giving

  myself airs, and bragging about Newcome, why, you know, I thought it was

  right to tell the fellows."

  "That's a man," said the Colonel, with delight; though had he said,

  "That's a boy," he had spoken more correctly. Indeed, how many men do we

  know in the world without caring to know who their fathers were? and how

  many more who wisely do not care to tell us? "That's a man," cries the

  Colonel; "never be ashamed of your father, Clive."

  "Ashamed of my father!" says Clive, looking up to him, and walking on as

  proud as a peacock. "I say," the lad resumed, after a pause--

  "Say what you say," said the father.

  "Is that all true what's in the Peerage--in the Baronetage, about Uncle

  Newcome and Newcome; about the Newcome who was burned at Smithfield;

  about the one that was at the battle of Bosworth; and the old old Newcome

  who was bar--that is, who was surgeon to Edward the Confessor, and was

  killed at Hastings? I am afraid it isn't; and yet I should like it to be

  true."

  "I think every man would like to come of an ancient and honourable race,"

  said the Colonel, in his honest way. "As you like your father to be an

  honourable man, why not your grandfather, and his ancestors before him?

  But if we can't inherit a good name, at least we can do our best to leave

  one, my boy; and that is an ambition which, please God, you and I will

  both hold by."

  With this simple talk the old and young gentleman beguiled their way,

  until they came into the western quarter of the town, where the junior

  member of the firm of Newcome Brothers had his house--a handsome and

  roomy mansion in Bryanstone Square. Colonel Newcome was bent on paying a

  visit to his sister-in-law, and as he knocked at the door, where the pair

  were kept waiting some little time, he could remark through the opened

  windows of the dining-room, that a great table was laid and every

  preparation made for a feast.

  "My brother said he was engaged to dinner to-day," said the Colonel.

  "Does Mrs. Newcome give parties when he is away?"

  "She invites all the company," answered Clive. "My uncle never asks any

  one without aunt's leave."

  The Colonel's countenance fell. He has a great dinner, and does not ask

  his own brother! Newcome thought. Why, if he had come to me in India with

  all his family, he might have stayed for a year, and I should have been

  offended if he had gone elsewhere.

  A hot menial, in a red waistcoat, came and opened the door; and without

  waiting for preparatory queries, said, "Not at home."

  "It's my father, John," said Clive; "my aunt will see Colonel Newcome."

  "Missis not at home," said the man. "Missis is gone in carriage--Not at

  this door!-Take them things down the area steps, young man!" bawls out

  the domestic. This latter speech was addressed to a pastrycook's boy,

  with a large sugar temple and many conical papers containing delicacies

  for dessert. "Mind the hice is here in time; or there'll be a blow-up

  with your governor,"--and John struggled back, closing the door on the

  astonished Colonel.

  "Upon my life, they actually shut the door in our faces," said the poor

  gentleman.

  "The man is very busy, sir. There's a great dinner. I'm sure my aunt

  would not refuse you," Clive interposed. "She is very kind. I suppose

  it's different here to what it is in India. here are the children in the

  square,--those are the girls in blue,--that's the French governess, the

  one with the mustachios and the yellow parasol. How d'ye do, Mary? How

  d'ye do, Fanny? This is my father,--this is your uncle."

  "Mesdemoiselles! Je vous ddfends de parler a qui que ce soit hors du

  squar!" screams out the lady of the mustachios; and she strode forward to

  call back her young charges.

  The Colonel addressed her in very good French. "I hope you will permit me

  to make acquaintance with my nieces," he said, "and with their

  instructress, of whom my son has given me such a favourable account."

  "Hem!" said Mademoiselle Lebrun, remembering the last fight she and Clive

  had had together, and a portrait of herself (with enormous whiskers)

  which the young scapegrace had drawn. "Monsieur is very good. But one

  cannot too early inculcate retenue and decorum to young ladies in a

  country where demoiselles seem for ever to forget that they are young

  ladies of condition. I am forced to keep the eyes of lynx upon these

  young persons, otherwise heaven knows what would come to them. Only

  yesterday, my back is turned for a moment, I cast my eyes on a book,

  having but little time for literature, monsieur--for literature, which I

  adore--when a cry makes itself to hear. I turn myself, and what do I see?

  Mesdemoiselles, your nieces, playing at criquette, with the Messieurs

  Smees--sons of Doctor Smees--young galopins, monsieur!" All this was

  shrieked with immense volubility and many actions of the hand and parasol

  across the square-railings to the amused Colonel, at whom the little

  girls peered through the bars.

  "Well, my dears, I should like to have a game at cricket with you, too,"

  says the kind gentleman, reaching them each a brown hand.

  "You, monsieur, c'est different--a man of your age! Salute monsieur, your

  uncle, mesdemoiselles. You conceive, monsieur, that I also must be

  cautious when I speak to a man so distinguished in a public squar." And

  she cast down her great eyes and hid those radiant orbs from the Colonel.

  Meanwhile, Colonel Newcome, indifferent to the direction which Miss

  Lebrun's eyes took, whether towards his hat or his boots, was surveying

  his little nieces with that kind expression which his face always wore

  when it was turned towards children. "Have you heard of your uncle in

  India?" he asked them.

  "No," says Maria.

  "Yes," says Fanny. "You know mademoiselle said" (mademoiselle at this

  moment was twittering her fingers, and, as it were, kissing them in the

  direction of a grand barouche that was advancing along the Square)--"you

>   know mademoiselle said that if we were mechantes we should be sent to our

  uncle in India. I think I should like to go with you."

  "O you silly child!" cries Maria.

  "Yes I should, if Clive went too," says little Fanny.

  "Behold madam, who arrives from her promenade!" Miss Lebrun exclaimed;

  and, turning round, Colonel Newcome had the satisfaction of beholding,

  for the first time, his sister-in-law.

  A stout lady, with fair hair and a fine bonnet and pelisse (who knows

  what were the fine bonnets and pelisses of the year 183-?), was reclining

  in the barouche, the scarlet-plush integuments of her domestics blazing

  before and behind her. A pretty little foot was on the cushion opposite

  to her; feathers waved in her bonnet; a book was in her lap; an oval

  portrait of a gentleman reposed on her voluminous bosom. She wore another

  picture of two darling heads, with pink cheeks and golden hair, on one of

  her wrists, with many more chains, bracelets, bangles, and knick-knacks.

  A pair of dirty gloves marred the splendour of this appearance; a heap of

  books from the library strewed the back seat of the carriage, and showed

  that her habits were literary. Springing down from his station behind his

  mistress, the youth clad in the nether garments of red sammit discharged

  thunderclaps on the door of Mrs. Newcome's house, announcing to the whole

  Square that his mistress had returned to her abode. Since the fort

  saluted the Governor-General at ------, Colonel Newcome had never heard

  such a cannonading.

  Clive, with a queer twinkle of his eyes, ran towards his aunt.

  She bent over the carriage languidly towards him. She liked him. "What,

  you, Clive?" she said. "How come you away from school of a Thursday,

  sir?"

  "It is a holiday," says he. "My father is come; and he is come to see

  you."

  She bowed her head with an expression of affable surprise and majestic

  satisfaction. "Indeed, Clive!" she was good enough to exclaim and with an

  air which seemed to say, "Let him come up and be presented to me." The

  honest gentleman stepped forward and took off his hat and bowed, and

  stood bareheaded. She surveyed him blandly, and with infinite grace put

  forward one of the pudgy little hands in one of the dirty gloves. Can you

  fancy a twopenny-halfpenny baroness of King Francis's time patronising

  Bayard? Can you imagine Queen Guinever's lady's-maid's lady's maid being

  affable to Sir Lancelot? I protest there is nothing like the virtue of

  English women.

  "You have only arrived to-day, and you came to see me? That was very

  kind. N'est-ce pas que c'etoit bong de Mouseer le Collonel, mademoiselle?

  Madamaselle Lebrun, le Collonel Newcome, mong frere." (In a whisper, "My

  children's governess and my friend, a most superior woman.") "Was it not

  kind of Colonel Newcome to come to see me? Have you had a pleasant

  voyage? Did you come by St. Helena? Oh, how I envy you seeing the tomb of

  that great man! Nous parlong de Napolleong, mademoiselle, dong voter pere

  a ete le General favvory."

  "O Dieu! que n'ai je pu le voir," interjaculates mademoiselle. "Lui dont

  parle l'univers, dont mon pere m'a si souvent parle!" but this remark

  passes quite unnoticed by mademoiselle's friend, who continues:

  "Clive, donnez-moi voter bras. These are two of my girls. My boys are at

  school. I shall be so glad to introduce them to their uncle. This naughty

  boy might never have seen you, but that we took him home to Marblehead,

  after the scarlet fever, and made him well, didn't we, Clive? And we are

  all very fond of him, and you must not be jealous of his love for his

  aunt. We feel that we quite know you through him, and we know that you

  know us, and we hope you will like us. Do you think your pa will like us,

  Clive? Or perhaps you will like Lady Anne best? Yes; you have been to her

  first, of course? Not been? Oh! because she is not in town." Leaning

  fondly on the arm of Clive, mademoiselle standing grouped with the

  children hard by while John, with his hat off, stood at the opened door,

  Mr Newcome slowly uttered the above remarkable remarks to the Colonel, on

  the threshold of her house, which she never asked him to pass.

  "If you will come in to us at about ten this evening," she then said,

  "you will find some men, not undistinguished, who honour me of an

  evening. Perhaps they will be interesting to you, Colonel Newcome, as you

  are newly arrived in Europe. Not men of worldly rank, necessarily,

  although some of them are amongst the noblest of Europe. But my maxim is,

  that genius is an illustration, and merit is better than any pedigree.

  You have heard of Professor Bodgers? Count Poski? Doctor McGuffog, who is

  called in his native country the Ezekiel of Clackmannan? Mr. Shaloony,

  the great Irish patriot? our papers have told you of him. These and some

  more I have been good enough to promise me a visit to-night. A stranger

  coming to London could scarcely have a better opportunity of seeing some

  of our great illustrations of science and literature. And you will meet

  our own family--not Sir Brian's, who--who have other society and

  amusements--but mine. I hope Mr. Newcome and myself will never forget

  them. We have a few friends at dinner, and now I must go in and consult

  with Mrs. Hubbard, my housekeeper. Good-bye for the present. Mind, not

  later than ten, as Mr. Newcome must be up betimes in the morning, and our

  parties break up early. When Clive is a little older, I dare say we shall

  see him, too. Good-bye!" And again the Colonel was favoured with a shake

  of the glove, and the lady and her suite sailed up the stair, and passed

  in at the door.

  She had not the faintest idea but that the hospitality which she was

  offering to her kinsman was of the most cordial and pleasant kind. She

  fancied everything she did was perfectly right and graceful. She invited

  her husband's clerks to come through the rain at ten o'clock from Kentish

  Town; she asked artists to bring their sketch-books from Kensington, or

  luckless pianists to trudge with their music from Brompton. She rewarded

  them with a smile and a cup of tea, and thought they were made happy by

  her condescension. If, after two or three of these delightful evenings,

  they ceased to attend her receptions, she shook her little flaxen head,

  and sadly intimated that Mr. A. was getting into bad courses, or feared

  that Mr. B. found merely intellectual parties too quiet for him. Else,

  what young man in his senses could refuse such entertainment and

  instruction?

  CHAPTER VIII

  Mrs. Newcome at Home (a Small Early Party)

  To push on in the crowd, every male or female struggler must use his

  shoulders. If a better place than yours presents itself just beyond your

  neighbour, elbow him and take it. Look how a steadily purposed man or

  woman at court, at a ball, or exhibition, wherever there is a competition

  and a squeeze, gets the best place; the nearest the sovereign, if bent on

  kissing the royal hand; the closest to the grand stand, if minded to go

  to Ascot; the best view and hearing of the Rev. Mr. Thumpington, when all


  the town is rushing to hear that exciting divine; the largest quantity of

  ice, champagne, and seltzer, cold pate, or other his or her favourite

  flesh-pot, if gluttonously minded, at a supper whence hundreds of people

  come empty away. A woman of the world will marry her daughter and have

  done with her; get her carriage and be at home and asleep in bed; whilst

  a timid mamma has still her girl in the nursery, or is beseeching the

  servants in the cloakroom to look for her shawls, with which some one

  else has whisked away an hour ago. What a man has to do in society is to

  assert himself. Is there a good place at table? Take it. At the Treasury

  or the Home Office? Ask for it. Do you want to go to a party to which you

  are not invited? Ask to be asked. Ask A., ask B., ask Mrs. C., ask

  everybody you know: you will be thought a bore; but you will have your

  way. What matters if you are considered obtrusive, provided that you

  obtrude? By pushing steadily, nine hundred and ninety-nine people in a

  thousand will yield to you. Only command persons, and you may be pretty

  sure that a good number will obey. How well your money will have been

  laid out, O gentle reader, who purchase this; and, taking the maxim to

  heart, follow it through life! You may be sure of success. If your

  neighbour's foot obstructs you, stamp on it; and do you suppose he won't

  take it away?

  The proofs of the correctness of the above remarks I show in various

  members of the Newcome family. Here was a vulgar little woman, not clever

  nor pretty, especially; meeting Mr. Newcome casually, she ordered him to

  marry her, and he obeyed; as he obeyed her in everything else which she

  chose to order through life. Meeting Colonel Newcome on the steps of her

  house, she orders him to come to her evening party; and though he has not

  been to an evening party for five-and-thirty years--though he has not

  been to bed the night before--though he has no mufti-coat except one sent

  him out by Messrs. Stultz to India in the year 1821--he never once thinks

  of disobeying Mrs. Newcome's order, but is actually at her door at five

  minutes past ten, having arrayed himself to the wonderment of Clive, and

  left the boy to talk with his friend and fellow-passenger, Mr. Binnie,

  who has just arrived from Portsmouth, who has dined with him, and who, by

  previous arrangement, has taken up his quarters at the same hotel.

  This Stultz coat, a blue swallow-tail, with yellow buttons, now wearing a

  tinge of their native copper, a very high velvet collar on a level with

  the tips of the Captain's ears, with a high waist, indicated by two

  lapelles, and a pair of buttons high up in the wearer's back, a white

  waistcoat and scarlet under-waistcoat, and a pair of the never-failing

  duck trousers, complete Thomas Newcome's costume, along with the white

  hat in which we have seen him in the morning, and which was one of two

  dozen purchased by him some years since at public outcry, Burrumtollah.

  We have called him Captain purposely, while speaking of his coat, for he

  held that rank when the garment came out to him; and having been in the

  habit of considering it a splendid coat for twelve years past, he has not

  the least idea of changing his opinion.

  The Doctor McGuffog, Professor Bodgers, Count Poski, and all the lions

  present at Mrs. Newcome's reunion that evening, were completely eclipsed

  by Colonel Newcome. The worthy soul, who cared not the least about

  adorning himself, had a handsome diamond brooch of the year 1801--given

  him by poor Jack Cutler, who was knocked over by his side at Argaum--and

  wore this ornament in his desk for a thousand days and nights at a time;

  in his shirt-frill, on such parade evenings as he considered Mrs.

  Newcome's to be. The splendour of this jewel, and of his flashing

  buttons, caused all eyes to turn to him. There were many pairs of