Collected Works of Frances Trollope

by Frances Milton Trollope

  “I have the greatest of pleasure in informing the honourable Judge Johnson, his lady, General Gregory, Mrs. General Gregory, and in short all the friends that are interested in the news, that our talented English lady friend, Mrs. Major Allen Barnaby has done — commence! her elegant and handsome work upon the land of the Stars and the Stripes; and I am not that much doubtful of her kindness, but what I think there is pretty considerable good hope that if the honourable Judge Johnson would make the request to the lady, she would favour the company by reading up a little of it for their advantage, and that Mrs. Major Allen Barnaby would be clever enough to sit down straight away at once, and give us the pleasure and improvement we wish for, by making us acquainted with what she has done.” —

  This harangue was received by a murmur of applause that evidently proceeded, not only from that portion of the company particularly addressed, but from every quarter of the room; and when the buzz this produced had a little subsided, the honourable Judge Johnson replied —

  “We cannot by many degrees thank you enough, my excellent Mrs. Colonel Beauchamp, for the service which your truly patriotic conduct has conferred upon us all. But in the name not only of the present company, but of every part of the Union (except, indeed, that unhappy portion of it winch refuses to rejoice in the greatest blessing left to us by the mighty Washington, and sanctified, as I may say, by the holy memory of the immortal Jefferson — I mean, of course, the misguided states who refuse to possess the blessing of a slave), in the name of the present company, and of all the soundly patriotic portion of the Union, I beg to thank your admirable friend for the very noble effort she is making in the cause of truth and impartiality — and I beg to say that one and all of us, neither can, nor do desire anything better than just to sit ourselves down round about the lady, so that we may not lose a single one of the precious words which she is going to have the elegant cleverness to read to us.”

  The consequence of this speech from the richest man in the room was an immediate drawing together of the company round Mrs. Allan Barnaby, while several of the gentlemen began actively to move forward a table, a chair, and a footstool, for the authoress; and when she had placed herself, which she did with great stateliness and dignity, every one present got as near to her as was conveniently possible, every sofa and every chair being put in requisition, and made to approach the end of the room, whence the attraction emanated.

  The honourable Judge Johnson himself sat at her right hand, and her deeply interested friend, Mrs. Beauchamp, at her left. Miss Matilda Perkins, who had found out a new way of making herself interesting and agreeable to the many tall, beautiful looking American gentlemen who still continued to take so much delightful notice of her, ceased not, in the very centrical place which she had chosen, to indulge in the most expressive dumb-show demonstrations of love and admiration for the authoress, assuring several in whispers breathed into their eagerly presented ears, that her dearest of all dear friends, Mrs. Allen Barnaby, was certainly sent by Providence to speak of that unequalled country called the United States of America in the manner it deserved, for that there never was, no never, such a woman for talents and learning of all sorts; her crowning phrase being at the end of every whisper, “Oh! Madame de Stale was nothing to her!”

  The quiet Miss Louisa, only too happy in being permitted to have a place by her friend Annie, sat at an open window at some distance from the more crowded part of the room, while Mr. Egerton, who now paid her quite attention enough to have convinced her sister, had she been its object, that he was only waiting for a favourable opportunity of declaring himself her lover, stationed himself at a convenient point for speaking either to her, or her “thoroughly American” companion, if he wished it, without the necessity to do it so loudly as to attract the attention of others.

  The major, who was exceedingly amused, and also exceedingly well pleased by the apparent success of this new exhibition of his wife’s cleverness, had placed himself very much at his ease on one of the sofas that was too large and heavy to be moved, but from whence he had a full view of her, and of all her goings on, and being well aware of the audibility of her voice, he had no fear but that he should hear every word she spoke.

  Patty, who was still too much in love to think it much worth while to listen to anything but her husband, having entered the room when it was full, employed some time in a very active search for him, and at length discovered that her beloved Don was fast asleep under an orange tree on the balcony. But as none of her pinches and twitches sufficed to awaken him, she at length determined to leave him at peace, and placed herself next to her beautifully-dressed friend, Mrs. General Gregory, finding a great relief in an accurate examination of all she wore, whenever it happened that her mamma’s eloquence was particularly overpowering.

  The movement, and the bustle, and the whisper, and the buzz, which of necessity precedes the calm required for such a business as that now going on, being at length over, the honourable Judge Johnson said aloud, and very distinctly, “Now then, my dear lady, we all trust and hope that you are ready to begin.”

  Mrs. Allen Barnaby bowed with grace and dignity to the gentleman who thus addressed her, shook a lavender-water odour from her pocket-handkerchief, pushed back with the tips of her left-hand fingers the abounding curls from her forehead, and with those of her right, lightly passed over the page that lay on the table before her, to restore its level smoothness, and then began: —

  “JUSTICE DONE AT LAST;

  OR,

  THE TRAVELS OF MRS. MAJOR ALLEN BARNABY

  THROUGH THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.”

  Having pronounced this title in a voice clear, distinct, and very sufficiently loud, the lady paused for a moment to let the applause she expected, and which failed not to come, pass away. Mr. Egerton, whose eyes had been fixed on the authoress as she read it, turned, perhaps involuntarily, to the face of Annie afterwards. It might be that he expected to see her look exceedingly delighted at the prospect thus held out of praise and honour to be conferred on her beloved country; but if so, he was disappointed, for the fair face of the young lady was tinted with a blush that looked much more like the glow of anger or of shame than of pleasure; and as her eye met his, she turned from him with a frown of displeasure, which he could not help thinking was exceedingly undeserved, he never having taken any such liberty as that which now seemed to displease her in his life. He consoled himself, however, by remembering how excessively absurd it would be, should he try to persuade himself that he cared a straw whether an American miss smiled or frowned upon him. So he did but smile in return for her frown, and again fixed his eyes on Mrs. Allen Barnaby.

  The applause created by her title being over, and expectant silence restored, that lady again took her manuscript from the table, where she had replaced it, while slightly agitating her handkerchief, and gracefully acknowledging the plaudits of the company by her smiles and bows, and thus resumed: —

  “In giving to the world the following narrative of my travels through that most glorious country known by the name of the United States of America, my principal object k to wipe away from the minds of my readers every trace of all that they have ever read or heard upon that subject before; for till this has been done it is vain to hope that the multitude of important facts with which I have been fortunate enough to become acquainted, can be received as they ought to be. Nobody properly qualified to write upon this wonderful country could behold a single town, a single street, a single house, a single individual of it, for just one single half-hour, without feeling all over to his very heart convinced, that not all the countries of the old world put together are worthy to compare, in any one respect, from the very greatest to the very least, with the free-born, the free-bred, the immortal, and ten hundred thousand times more glorious country, generally called that of the ‘Stars and the Stripes! The country of the Stars and the Stripes is, in fact, and beyond all reach of contradiction, the finest country in the whole world, and the simple truth k,
that nobody who really knows anything about it, can ever think of calling it anything eke. It is just the biggest and the best, and that k saying everything in two words.”

  “Admirable!” exclaimed Mrs. Beauchamp, raising her fine eyes towards heaven, and then pressing her pocket-handkerchief to them, in a manner that plainly showed the profound sensibility with which she listened to praise so justly due, and so warmly uttered upon the merits of her beloved country. “Oh, it is admirable!”

  “Admirable? It is first-rate, ma’am,” said the honourable Judge Johnson, warmly. “I expect, madam,” he added, turning towards Mrs. Allen Barnaby, “I expect that nobody has yet come among us so elegantly well qualified as yourself for doing the justice that you promise us. I do not mean to speak alone of your particular great talents and beautiful accomplishments in writing, but I guess that it is because you have moved in the very highest of circles yourself that you are more up to the comprehending and admiring everything you have found here, than any of the low, whipper-snapper people as have come before you. That k what I guess to be the reason and true cause of the difference.”

  “You do me but justice, my dear sir,” replied Mrs. Allen Barnaby, with an air that might justly be called majestically modest, “you do me but justice in supposing that I am, rather-out-of-the-common-way capable of appreciating what k noble and superior. Heaven knows that I have no very great liking or partiality to the ways and manners of my own country; but yet in justice to myself I think it but right to mention that my very last visit in London was to the drawing-room of the Queen. I must beg and entreat that I may not be misunderstood in saying this, and that none of this charming company will suppose for an instant that I think overmuch about queens and kings, and those sort of people. Nobody, I am sure, can be farther from it than I am; but nevertheless, I just mention this to prove that the honourable Judge Johnson is right, and quite correct in what he has been pleased to say about my being capable of judging; and I do believe most truly that the reason why so much, as I am told, has been said about the backwardness in elegance of this most great and glorious country is, that all the people who have come over here before are of an inferior class, and not used so much to the very first circles, as I confess I have been.”

  “Then the murder’s out, and that’s the truth of it,” exclaimed Colonel Win grove, a member of congress and a man of fashion, who was one of Mrs. Carmichael’s boarders. “All I wanted was to hear some of the English confess it themselves, for it is exactly what I have said a thousand and a thousand times; and it is astonishing to me that common-sense has not pointed that out to everybody, long and long ago. For doesn’t it stand to reason that we know what we are our own selves? Who is there, I should alike to be told, so capable of judging what our manners are, as the first-rate educated among ourselves? And yet people among us, as ought to know better, are for ever fretting and fuming because half-a-dozen vulgar low-borns, who never knew the elegant luxury of owning a score of slaves to wait upon ’em, have come and gone without having the wit to find out what we really are. For my part, I snap my fingers at them all,” continued the gallant colonel, suiting the action to the word, “and so I ever have done. But that’s no hindrance to my feeling a true respect for the real lady that is come amongst us now; and I beg pardon for interrupting her so long; and beg to conclude by saying that she may count upon being valued and approved as she deserves to be, for there is not a people upon the whole earth that knows more thoroughly what’s what than the citizens of the United States.”

  Here Colonel Wingrove ceased speaking, and expectorated, while the honourable Judge Johnson bowed to him with the condescension of a man who knows himself to be the first person in the company.

  “What you have spoken, Colonel Wingrove, sir, is of a piece with the good sense which we all know you give out in congress, and which is just what in course we all expect from you. But now it strikes me that it is time for Mrs. Allen Barnaby to begin again; though it may be that she would find a drink of lemonade preferable in the first instance; for this glorious fine climate of ours is most times found rather over hot by strangers from northernmost countries, especially if, as in the present case, they happen to be in a room full of company.”

  Mrs. Carmichael immediately obeyed this hint by clapping her hands; upon which Cleopatra and her younger sister Cloe, who were both in waiting on the outside of the open door, started forward, and lemonade and whisky were very liberally handed round to the numerous circle.

  “Now then, honoured madam,” said the judge, “may we take the liberty of asking you to progress in your agreeable reading?” Mrs. Allen Barnaby bowed, and immediately proceeded.

  “If there is one point that is calculated to strike a reasonable stranger, altogether free from vulgar prejudice, more strongly than any other, at first arriving in this favoured and immortal country, it certainly is the contemplation of the comfort and happiness arising from the institution of slavery.”

  “God bless my soul!” cried Colonel Beauchamp, roused from his usual apathetic indolence by these stirring words, “that’s one of the finest sentences that I ever listened to, either in or out of congress, and I don’t care who hears me say it.”

  “Nobody can hear you say it, sir,” remarked the mild-looking George Gregory, “without agreeing in your judgment; unless indeed we were so unhappy as to have among us some desperately malignant Pennsylvanian, or canting Bostonian, or the like, traitors to their country and to common-sense. None other can fail to agree with you in thinking that the last passage read to us by this truly superior lady is a proof of the greatest triumph of sound judgment over canting prejudice (coming as it does from an Englishwoman) that has perhaps ever been met with. And deeply indeed, madam, ought we to value it, for seldom is it, I grieve to say, that any writers whatever, except among the poor persecuted planters themselves, are ever found to have honest courage enough to speak out boldly in print in favour of this truly Roman and magnificent institution. But there is one word, one little word, my dear lady, that it will be necessary to insert before your admirable work is sent to the press. Will you give me leave to suggest it?”

  “There is nothing, sir,” replied Mrs. Allen Barnaby, with mingled gentleness and dignity, “there is nothing for which I should feel myself so deeply grateful as for any suggestions, whether in the way of additions or alterations, to this work, which perhaps I have been only too eager to begin. I am well aware that I must in all probability appear hasty; but my earnest wish—”

  “Not a bit, not a bit too hasty, madam,” exclaimed the honourable Judge Johnson, interrupting her. “I honour you for your eagerness, madam; and it is never too soon to begin doing what is right. As to suggestions now and then, in the way of addition, you are much too smart a lady not to feel the advantage of it; but I protest that in the way of alteration I don’t see the slightest chance of its being called for, or in any way necessary. All we have ever asked of those who came over to enjoy our good things, and take a spice, as I may say, of the elegance and luxury in which we live, all we ask of them is, that when they sit down after going back, to write a book about what they have seen, they should just speak the truth, without fear or favour, and say honestly that the United States of America stand just first and foremost, and highest and noblest, among all the nations of the earth. That’s all we want or wish for, from any author, male or female, gentle or simple; and by all I can understand from what this excellent good lady has read to us, of her commencement,” he added, looking round upon the listening circle, “this is pretty much the upshot of what she means to report herself.”

  “Upon my word, sir,” said Mrs. Allen Barnaby, with a very amiable smile, “I do not and cannot see how it is possible, setting aside, of course, all sorts of wicked prejudice, envy, and the like, I really do not see how it is possible to say anything else.”

  “I wish it was possible for me to say, madam, that there were many such ladies in the world as you are,” replied the judge. “I reckon that in
that case we wouldn’t care no more for the boundary question than for a flea-bite; and for that matter, indeed, if just that much was granted us — the slavery boggle, you know, of course included — I really and truly don’t think that the right of search itself would be thought any great deal of long. But now let us hear what it was that General Gregory was meaning by his alteration?”

  “Hardly an alteration, judge, hardly an alteration,” returned the bland old gentleman; “what I ask for is merely the insertion of a word or two. When the lady speaks of the agreeable impression which the sight of slavery makes on superior-minded people on their first arriving in the United States, she must, I think, so far particularise as to make it clear that she speaks of the feelings which would arise in case the stranger should be fortunate enough to come, as the lady herself did, to a slave-holding state in the first instance; for if, instead of that, the person arriving was to make their first acquaintance with the Union at Boston, now, for instance, it is likely enough that they would never dream of such a thing as slavery at all, and then in course it follows that they could not admire it.”

  “I understand, sir, I understand perfectly,” said the intelligent Mrs. Allen Barnaby, “you are quite right! The sentence as it now stands is exceedingly imperfect, but if any gentleman will be good enough to lend me a pencil for a moment I will correct it.”

  A most surprising number of pencils and pencil-cases seemed to spring, as it were, almost spontaneously from the waistcoat-pockets of the surrounding gentlemen. On seeing which the authoress threw around her a smile most safely circular, and took with admirable tact the pencil that was nearest. Well, indeed, might it have been said of her on this occasion —

  “Oft she rejects, but never once offends for among all the pencil-holders who had to return their unaccepted offerings to the receptacles from whence they were drawn, not one of them, so admirable had been Mrs. Allen Barnaby’s manner of getting out of the scrape, felt in the slightest degree offended.