Blue-Stocking Hall, (Vol. 2 of 3)

by William Pitt Scargill

After the first tumult of surprise was over, I gained in ten minutes the following outline respecting the hows, whys, and whens of this sudden incursion into the wilds of Kerry. From the time when first Russell heard of my being here, he began to devise a scheme for slipping over in summer, but as his father wanted him to join a party who were going to the Highlands, he did not find it an easy matter to accomplish his plan; having been told, however, by my sisters, that I was bound to Killarney, he determined on coming to Ireland; and, meeting Annesley, offered him a seat in his dennett. The project resolved on by these wags was, to keep me in profound ignorance of their movements, while they watched ours, and to meet us in some romantic spot of our Lake scenery; but in pursuing their route, they fell in with a travelling carriage which had just smashed down in the bog, and, having left all their English sang froid behind them, they immediately jumped from their own vehicle to make a proffer of every assistance in their power to bestow. A lady, her maid, and footman, were the party submerged by fate beneath the murky waves of Acheron. Literally they were all struggling out of a dyke full of water as black as if it flowed direct from the forge of Vulcan. The knights flew to the rescue with all the zeal of chivalric adventure, and conveyed their fair charge to a neighbouring cabin, where a blazing fire, for which they were indebted to the same morass that had treated them so uncourteously, repaired the evil, and set them moralizing on bogs and bees, which, together with the bane, provide an antidote. They found the lady very agreeable, and moreover they discovered that she was steering for Glenalta, upon which they drew up their visors, proclaimed their names, and told her that a friend whom they were seeking was a guest under that roof. This coincidence pleased the lady, as savouring of a regular adventure, and she at once invested herself with the responsibilities of a godmother, and (one good turn deserving another) prevailed on her deliverers to step into her carriage, and resign theirs to the charge of her servant, promising to introduce them to the Douglas family. Well now, you naturally inquire who is the lady whose intimacy at Glenalta warrants such a stretch of privilege? She is a Mrs. Fitzroy, with whom my aunt became well acquainted, during her long sojournment in Devonshire, and whose society beguiled her sorrows in the deep retirement of Linton. Mrs. Fitzroy is a highly-gifted person, and a most agreeable addition to our party; but to proceed with my narrative, her visit was not a surprise to my aunt, though a very great one to the rest of the family.

A letter came just about the time when Emily and Frederick had finished their works in the Glen, and the unlooked for pleasure which they had prepared for their mother, in introducing her to the rustic temple which they had with filial fondness dedicated to her, suggested the idea of concealing Mrs. Fitzroy's intentions, and thus repaying the young people in kind, by a pleasant necromancy. Nothing could be better managed, and my aunt enjoyed, to use the language of old Du Deffand, a grand succès. I was put in possession of all this before Mrs. Fitzroy made her appearance. Frederick, who came next into the drawing-room, was now informed of all that had happened; and as to my two English comrades, they were at home in a quarter of an hour, a delightful reception for them having been doubly secured by their sponsors. Mrs. Fitzroy now completed our circle, in which Mr. Otway and Bentley had previously taken their posts, and a merrier group you never saw.

Mrs. Fitzroy deserves to be distinguished by a separate portrait, and therefore I must prepare my canvass, and endeavour to sketch her likeness. She appears to be about forty; her features are well defined; replete with intelligence, and when lit up by a gay expression, singularly playful and pleasing. Her faculties are strong and clear, her understanding comprehensive, and her mind apparently equal to any exercise of its powers which she chooses to put into action. She is evidently possessed too of considerable sensibility, which makes her peculiarly alive to whatever is interesting in the character of others. She and my aunt do not in the least resemble each other, but the difference between them is not such as to impede the growth of a very warm friendship. The young people are excessively fond of her, and her arrival at Glenalta is considered quite a jubilee. Though an English-woman by birth, and living almost continually amongst people of her own country, all her sympathies are Hibernian, and she has much of that raciness in her own composition which she says is so attractive a composition in the Irish. The delight with which she goes into the cottages to converse with the peasantry, is something very amusing to witness. She says that, "Irish thoughts are so fresh, and the expression of them so eloquent," that she feels as if transported amid a new order of beings. She seizes on every idea, presented in whatever guise, with such intuitive quickness, that she charms the poor people in return, and Tom Collins paid her an odd sort of compliment yesterday which brought tears into her eyes: "Indeed, God bless your honour, you're just as if you were bred and born in the bog among ourselves." This is her second visit to Ireland, though her first at Glenalta; and she runs about in raptures collecting traits of disposition which seem to have a native affinity with her own. I shall tell you more of her in a future letter.

We are to set out, a formidable muster, for Killarney, at six o'clock to-morrow, and I shall not seal this till the last moment, reserving my next exclusively for a report of our expedition. As I tell you every thing, I cannot conclude without mentioning a letter which I have lately received from my eldest sister, and which has caused me much disquietude; she tells me that my uncle the General is coming home from India, which is fully confirmed by a letter direct from himself to Mr. Otway, and it is my mother's wish that I should be in England when he arrives. What is still worse, there is an evident anxiety expressed by Louisa, who, I conclude, conveys the general feeling of the family conclave in this case also, that I should quit Glenalta directly. The rustication which I am enduring will, she says, totally disqualify me for polite society; my manners will become boorish, my person unsightly, and, in short, it is voted, that as it is supposed my health is perfectly re-established, I shall quit my banishment, and revisit the regions of civilization, which it is apprehended I may forget, if my recal be not speedy and imperative. Then certain hints are thrown out respecting Adelaide, and that ass Crayton, whose coronet, were it of ducal form, and decorated with strawberry leaves imported from Brobdignag, could never hide the length of his ears. How short a time has elapsed since these things which now perplex would have given me joy? I should have been thankful for a good excuse to bid adieu to Ireland for ever; and I should have thought my mother the first of human manoeuvrers, and Adelaide the most fortunate girl in London to have succeeded in hooking that first-rate blockhead, who, it is likely, I am told, may be my brother-in-law. Another subject of painful reflection is added to these, and it is a relief to my spirit to tell you all that oppresses it. Such a change has taken place in my own mind, that I see the character of others with new organs. My personal identity almost seems doubtful to myself, and I can hardly believe what is nevertheless true, that Louisa's letter, independently of the intelligence that it communicates, has shocked me in a manner difficult to be explained within my own breast, and scarcely possible to be expressed intelligibly to another. My sister's language is lively; she speaks of people familiar to me, of amusements in which a few months ago I used constantly to participate; of fears and hopes, in all of which I could have sympathized, and of events which would have excited my vanity and gratified my pride. Surely it is something savouring of magic that can have converted these things into their very opposites. You have often said that I was not formed for the society in which I was placed; that my character would have taken another direction had it not been trained by habit to a distorted deviation from its natural bias. Perhaps you were right; but, allowing that you were so, still I cannot account for the metamorphosis. Apply a ligature that shall bind the branch of a tree, or a limb of the human body, in any particular curve, and there it rests. The bark, the wood, the pith of the one; the muscles, tendons, arteries of the other, obey the rule of distortion, and the removal of restraint effects no alteration; the crooked will not become straight. On the contrary, here I am a changeling in my mother's house; I see all objects with new powers of vision, and such as, I lament to add, render me ill satisfied with those who stand in the relations to me which I have now learned to appreciate. With a mind just awakened to affection, and a heart just opened to the genial influence of domestic love and harmony, my feelings, which this soft climate of Glenalta has unfolded, are blighted by the very thought of Selby. Yes, I sicken at the bare idea of return, and a consciousness which I only felt before upon great occasions, now represents the whole mechanism of that artificial compact sealed by fashion in the most intolerable view to my imagination. I cannot call things by their old names; the words no longer appear to suit their purposes, and the new nomenclature, which now seems most appropriate, disgusts me. How can I apply the terms bold, indelicate, unfeeling, unaffectionate, to a sister, and not turn with horror from such sounds; or attribute the base design of selling a child's happiness, carrying a daughter to market, and disposing of her to the best bidder, with all the cunning and trickery of professed jockeyism—how can I attach such devices to the character of a mother, and not shudder as I write the word? Yet all this is but an unexaggerated picture of those relations, as I have hitherto known them; an epitome of that world in which I have had my being, and though a fugitive feeling, perhaps, occasionally whispered disapprobation, and I have now and then shrunk from certain violations of modesty or integrity in the conduct of those around me—such starts were but momentary. I quickly rejoined the beaten track, and pressed forward with the giddy throng. When I look at my aunt Douglas, I feel how I could worship such a parent. When I am with Emily, Charlotte, and Fanny, I say to myself, if I had such sisters how I could love them; then comes the sting, I have a mother, I have sisters, and my mind revolts from their society. Poor Ned of the Hill told Bentley that "man is never happy." He was right, Glenalta would be Paradise did not the unwelcome intrusion of such reflections disturb its felicity.

I was called away, or you might have had more of my melancholy musings. We have had a charming ride to-day, and seen some patches of scenery so beautiful, that I can hardly suppose any thing to surpass them at Killarney, but like the fine beryls which were shewn to you and me, that had been found in the Kremlin, and looked as if they were set in a mass of pewter, these favoured spots are surrounded by such savage wildness as I can scarcely describe. You could hardly imagine any part of the dominions which own a British Monarch for their Sovereign to present such desolation to your view as met our eyes in this morning's excursion; but now and then we lit upon an oasis in the desert, the fertility and romantic loveliness of which would teach the veriest wilderness to smile. Annesley, who sketches admirably, took some hints for his port folio, which will astonish you some time or other. Emily and Fanny were of our party, and are excellent horsewomen. Our guests were delighted, and we had another cheerful meeting at dinner, but the evening was marked by a discovery which has knocked up poor Russell's repose for this night, I fancy, if not for a longer season. You know his devotion to music, in which he excels, and you are aware of his enthusiasm in collecting national airs, amongst which he thinks none so melodious as the old Irish strain. When the harp and piano-forte were opened this evening, we were listening to a descant of Russell's on the favourite theme, when Frederick said, "I do think Charlotte that you might now accompany yourself. I saw you practising some days ago, and never heard you touch the strings more sweetly."

"I am only trying to recover a little of what I have lost," answered Charlotte, "but, if mamma does not say no, I will do the best that I can. My old Irish airs are in the dressing-room, will you bring them here?"

Till this moment I had never remarked that Emily or Fanny had always accompanied, and that Charlotte only joined in glees and duets, which she sings with her brother and sister in excellent style; but just before I came to Glenalta she fell, as she was dismounting from her horse, and hurt one arm so much, that it has been ever since regaining its ordinary strength. In any other family your ears would have been persecuted from morning till night with the details of such an accident. At Selby, I know that Eau de Cologne, Arquebusade, and every nostrum ever invented, would have been arrayed, and there would have been an incessant demand on the attentions of every mortal throughout the house, but such is the difference of education, that self, in all its branches, is banished from Glenalta. I had nearly forgotten that Charlotte was hurt, and as no one boasted of her powers, I never heard a word of her peculiar talent in music till in this unpremeditated manner it was called forth by Russell's dissertation on the character of Irish melody. The book was brought, Emily saved her sister the labour of tuning, and Charlotte, for the first time, saluted our ears with such divine enchantment as quite baffles every attempt of mine to convey a sense of it to your imagination. Russell furnished a study to Mrs. Fitzroy, who was watching the variety of his emotion with the deepest interest. His account of Charlotte's music, perhaps, may give you the best idea of it that words can impart:—"it is not," he says, "earthly harmony. No mortal finger touches that harp; no human voice is uttered in the song; that strain floats in mid air, and the soft southern breeze has sighed through the strings"—

"'Twas the Genius of Erin that rose from her cave,

And poured out her lament to the answering wave."

It is not in nature to conceive any expression of sorrow more penetrating than that which mourns in the wail of an ancient Irish ditty. Charlotte has contrived to procure several airs which are not in Moore's collection, and which carry internal evidence of antiquity in the irregularity of their rhythm, if I may apply such a term to music. No sea bird's note was ever more sweetly sad; and she has picked up translations from time to time of some poetical fragments which she has adapted with great taste, as well as judgment to the music, for which she has often been indebted to the peasants as they pursued their daily toil; not that they sing agreeably in almost any instance, I am told; the extreme barbarism which is induced by such poverty as reigns in the South of Ireland, is very unfavourable to the Muses; yet they will linger amongst a people who possess such uncommon tact in appreciating their charms, notwithstanding the homely reception with which they are obliged to be contented. A death-song (vulg. caöne or keen), the words of which, I believe, are published in a late work on the Antiquities of this Kingdom, by Mr. Croker, and which Charlotte has set to an old howl that she heard a poor woman uttering (for singing would be a misnomer) with nasal twang, as she milked her cow, is the most heart-rending melody that I ever heard; and a march which she plays, to which the famous Brian Boirombh led his troops forward at the battle of Clontarf, is remarkable for a character of pathetic grandeur that I never found before in martial music. Russell's feelings underwent such excitement during the evening, that had not his sex preserved him from the simile, we should have compared him to a Sybil in the contortions of forthcoming inspiration. I now perfectly comprehend the pleasure which, I am informed, some of our first-rate public performers profess in exhibiting their powers to an Irish audience. The Irish feel music in the "heart of heart," and express what they feel with peculiar energy. Our English guests are bitten I promise you; I heard them both emphatically declare their gratitude to Mrs. Fitzroy for her introduction to this "charming family," but I must have a nap before we sally out upon Lake adventures, so fare thee well. On my return you may expect a budget.