George Meredith
Evan Harrington Complete
CHAPTER I. ABOVE BUTTONS
Long after the hours when tradesmen are in the habit of commencing business, the shutters of a certain shop in the town of Lymport-on-the-Sea remained significantly closed, and it became known that death had taken Mr. Melchisedec Harrington, and struck one off the list of living tailors. The demise of a respectable member of this class does not ordinarily create a profound sensation. He dies, and his equals debate who is to be his successor: while the rest of them who have come in contact with him, very probably hear nothing of his great launch and final adieu till the winding up of cash-accounts; on which occasions we may augur that he is not often blessed by one or other of the two great parties who subdivide this universe. In the case of Mr. Melchisedec it was otherwise. This had been a grand man, despite his calling, and in the teeth of opprobrious epithets against his craft. To be both generally blamed, and generally liked, evinces a peculiar construction of mortal. Mr. Melchisedec, whom people in private called the great Mel, had been at once the sad dog of Lymport, and the pride of the town. He was a tailor, and he kept horses; he was a tailor, and he had gallant adventures; he was a tailor, and he shook hands with his customers. Finally, he was a tradesman, and he never was known to have sent in a bill. Such a personage comes but once in a generation, and, when he goes, men miss the man as well as their money.
That he was dead, there could be no doubt. Kilne, the publican opposite, had seen Sally, one of the domestic servants, come out of the house in the early morning and rush up the street to the doctors, tossing her hands; and she, not disinclined to dilute her grief, had, on her return, related that her master was then at his last gasp, and had refused, in so many words, to swallow the doctor.
I wont swallow the doctor! he says, I wont swallow the doctor! Sally moaned. I never touched him, he says, and I never will.
Kilne angrily declared, that in his opinion, a man who rejected medicine in extremity, ought to have it forced down his throat: and considering that the invalid was pretty deeply in Kilnes debt, it naturally assumed the form of a dishonest act on his part; but Sally scornfully dared any one to lay hand on her master, even for his own good. For, said she, hes got his eyes awake, though he do lie so helpless. He marks ye!
Ah! ah! Kilne sniffed the air. Sally then rushed back to her duties.
Now, there s a man! Kilne stuck his hands in his pockets and began his meditation: which, however, was cut short by the approach of his neighbour Barnes, the butcher, to whom he confided what he had heard, and who ejaculated professionally, Obstinate as a pig! As they stood together they beheld Sally, a figure of telegraph, at one of the windows, implying that all was just over.
Amen! said Barnes, as to a matter-of-fact affair.
Some minutes after, the two were joined by Grossby, the confectioner, who listened to the news, and observed:
Just like him! Id have sworn hed never take doctors stuff; and, nodding at Kilne, liked his medicine best, eh?
Had a-hem!good lot of it, muttered Kilne, with a suddenly serious brow.
How does he stand on your books? asked Barnes.
Kilne shouldered round, crying: Who the deuce is to know?
I dont, Grossby sighed. In he comes with his Good morning, Grossby, fine day for the hunt, Grossby, and a ten-pound note. Have the kindness to put that down in my favour, Grossby. And just as I am going to say, Look here,this wont do, he has me by the collar, and theres one of the regiments going to give a supper party, which hes to order; or the Admirals wife wants the receipt for that pie; or in comes my wife, and theres no talking of business then, though she may have been bothering about his account all the night beforehand. Something or other! and so we run on.
What I want to know, said Barnes, the butcher, is where he got his tenners from?
Kilne shook a sagacious head: No knowing!
I suppose we shall get something out of the fire? Barnes suggested.
That depends! answered the emphatic Kilne.
But, you know, if the widow carries on the business, said Grossby, theres no reason why we shouldnt get it all, eh?
There aint two that can make clothes for nothing, and make a profit out of it, said Kilne.
That young chap in Portugal, added Barnes, he wont take to tailoring when he comes home. D ye think he will?
Kilne muttered: Cant say! and Grossby, a kindly creature in his way, albeit a creditor, reverting to the first subject of their discourse, ejaculated, But what a one he was!eh?
Fine!to look on, Kilne assented.
Well, he was like a Marquis, said Barnes.
Here the three regarded each other, and laughed, though not loudly. They instantly checked that unseemliness, and Kilne, as one who rises from the depths of a calculation with the sum in his head, spoke quite in a different voice:
Well, what do you say, gentlemen? shall we adjourn? No use standing here.
By the invitation to adjourn, it was well understood by the committee Kilne addressed, that they were invited to pass his threshold, and partake of a morning draught. Barnes, the butcher, had no objection whatever, and if Grossby, a man of milder make, entertained any, the occasion and common interests to be discussed, advised him to waive them. In single file these mourners entered the publicans house, where Kilne, after summoning them from behind the bar, on the important question, what it should be? and receiving, first, perfect acquiescence in his views as to what it should be, and then feeble suggestions of the drink best befitting that early hour and the speakers particular constitution, poured out a toothful to each, and one to himself.
Heres to him, poor fellow! said Kilne; and was deliberately echoed twice.
Now, it wasnt that, Kilne pursued, pointing to the bottle in the midst of a smacking of lips, that wasnt what got him into difficulties. It was expensive luckshries. It was being above his condition. Horses! Whats a tradesman got to do with horses? Unless hes retired! Then hes a gentleman, and can do as he likes. Its no use trying to be a gentleman if you cant pay for it. It always ends bad. Why, there was he, consorting with gentlefolksgay as a lark! Who has to pay for it?
Kilnes fellow-victims maintained a rather doleful tributary silence.
Im not saying anything against him now, the publican further observed. It s too late. And there! Im sorry hes gone, for one. He was as kind a hearted a man as ever breathed. And there! perhaps it was just as much my fault; I couldnt say No to him,dash me, if I could!
Lymport was a prosperous town, and in prosperity the much-despised British tradesman is not a harsh, he is really a well-disposed, easy soul, and requires but management, manner, occasional instalmentsjust to freshen the accountand a surety that he who debits is on the spot, to be a right royal king of credit. Only the account must never drivel. Stare aut crescere appears to be his feeling on that point, and the departed Mr. Melchisedec undoubtedly understood him there; for the running on of the account looked deplorable and extraordinary now that Mr. Melchisedec was no longer in a position to run on with it, and it was precisely his doing so which had prevented it from being brought to a summary close long before. Both Barnes, the butcher; and Grossby, the confectioner, confessed that they, too, found it hard ever to say No to him, and, speaking broadly, never could.
Except once, said Barnes, when he wanted me to let him have a ox to roast whole out on the common, for the Battle of Waterloo. I stood out against him on that. No, no, says I, Ill joint him for ye, Mr. Harrington. You shall have him in joints, and eat him at home;-ha! ha!
Just like him! said Grossby, with true enjoyment of the princely disposition that had dictated the patriotic order.
Oh!there! Kilne emphasized, pushing out his arm across the bar, as much as to say, that in anything of such a kind, the great Mel never had a rival.
That Marquis affair changed him a bit, said Barnes.
Perhaps it did, for a time, said Kilne. Whats in the grain, you know. He couldnt change. He would be a gentleman, and nothing d stop him.
And I shouldnt wonder but what that young chap out in Portugal ll want to be one, too; though he didnt bid fair to be so fine a man as his father.
More of a scholar, remarked Kilne. That I call his worst faultshilly-shallying about that young chap. I mean his. Kilne stretched a finger toward the dead mans house. First, the young chaps to be sent into the Navy; then its the Army; then hes to be a judge, and sit on criminals; then he goes out to his sister in Portugal; and now theres nothing but a tailor open to him, as I see, if were to get our money.
Ah! and he hasnt got too much spirit to work to pay his fathers debts, added Barnes. Theres a business there to make any mans fortune-properly directed, I say. But, I suppose, like father like son, hell becoming the Marquis, too. He went to a gentlemans school, and hes had foreign training. I dont know what to think about it. His sisters over therethey were fine women.
Oh! a fine family, every one of em! and married well! exclaimed the publican.
I never had the exact rights of that Marquis affair, said Grossby; and, remembering that he had previously laughed knowingly when it was alluded to, pursued: Of course I heard of it at the time, but how did he behave when he was blown upon?
Barnes undertook to explain; but Kilne, who relished the narrative quite as well, and was readier, said: Look here! I ll tell you. I had it from his own mouth one night when he wasntnot quite himself. He was coming down King William Street, where he stabled his horse, you know, and I met him. Hed been dining out-somewhere out over Fallow field, I think it was; and he sings out to me, Ah! Kilne, my good fellow! and I, wishing to be equal with him, says, A fine night, my lord! and he draws himself uphe smelt of good companysays he, Kilne! Im not a lord, as you know, and you have no excuse for mistaking me for one, sir! So I pretended I had mistaken him, and then he tucked his arm under mine, and said, Youre no worse than your betters, Kilne. They took me for one at Squire Uplifts to-night, but a man who wishes to pass off for more than he is, Kilne, and impose upon people, he says, hes contemptible, Kilne! contemptible! So that, you know, set me thinking about Bath and the Marquis, and I couldnt help smiling to myself, and just let slip a question whether he had enlightened them a bit. Kilne, said he, youre an honest man, and a neighbour, and Ill tell you what happened. The Squire, he says, likes my company, and I like his table. Now the Squire d never do a dirty action, but the Squires nephew, Mr. George Uplift, he cant forget that I earn my money, and once or twice I have had to correct him. And Ill wager Mel did it, too! Well, he goes on: There was Admiral Sir Jackson Racial and his lady, at dinner, Squire Falco of Bursted, Lady Barrington, Admiral Comblemanour admiral, that was; Mr. This and That, I forget their namesand other ladies and gentlemen whose acquaintance I was not honoured with. You know his way of talking. And there was a goose on the table, he says; and, looking stern at me, Dont laugh yet! says he, like thunder. Well, he goes on: Mr. George caught my eye across the table, and said, so as not to be heard by his uncle, If that bird was rampant, you would see your own arms, Marquis. And Mel replied, quietly for him to hear, And as that bird is couchant, Mr. George, you had better look to your sauce. Couchant means squatting, you know. Thats heraldry! Well, that wasnt bad sparring of Mels. But, bless you! he was never taken aback, and the gentlefolks was glad enough to get him to sit down amongst em. So, says Mr. George, I know youre a fire-eater, Marquis, and his dander was up, for he began marquising Mel, and doing the mock polite at such a rate, that, by-and-by, one of the ladies who didnt know Mel called him my lord and his lordship. And, says Mel, I merely bowed to her, and took no notice. So that passed off: and there sits Mel telling his anecdotes, as grand as a king. And, by and-by, young Mr. George, who hadnt forgiven Mel, and had been pulling at the bottle pretty well, he sings out, It s Michaelmas! the death of the goose! and I should like to drink the Marquiss health! and he drank it solemn. But, as far as I can make out, the women part of the company was a little in the dark. So Mel waited till there was a sort of a pause, and then speaks rather loud to the Admiral, By the way, Sir Jackson, may I ask you, has the title of Marquis anything to do with tailoring? Now Mel was a great favourite with the Admiral, and with his lady, too, they sayand the Admiral played into his hands, you see, and, says he, I m not aware that it has, Mr. Harrington. And he begged for to know why he asked the questioncalled him, Mister, you understand. So Mel said, and I can see him now, right out from his chest he spoke, with his head up When I was a younger man, I had the good taste to be fond of good society, and the bad taste to wish to appear different from what I was in it: thats Mel speaking; everybody was listening; so he goes on: I was in the habit of going to Bath in the season, and consorting with the gentlemen I met there on terms of equality; and for some reason that I am quite guiltless of, says Mel, the hotel people gave out that I was a Marquis in disguise; and, upon my honour, ladies and gentlemenI was young then, and a foolI could not help imagining I looked the thing. At all events, I took upon myself to act the part, and with some success, and considerable gratification; for, in my opinion, says Mel, no real Marquis ever enjoyed his title so much as I did. One day I was in my shopNo. 193, Main Street, Lymportand a gentleman came in to order his outfit. I received his directions, when suddenly he started back, stared at me, and exclaimed:
My dear Marquis! I trust you will pardon me for having addressed you with so much familiarity. I recognized in him one of my Bath acquaintances. That circumstance, ladies and gentlemen, has been a lesson to me. Since that time I have never allowed a false impression with regard to my position to exist. I desire, says Mel, smiling, to have my exact measure taken everywhere; and if the Michaelmas bird is to be associated with me, I am sure I have no objection; all I can say is, that I cannot justify it by letters patent of nobility. Thats how Mel put it. Do you think they thought worse of him? I warrant you he came out of it in flying colours. Gentlefolks like straight-forwardness in their inferiorsthats what they do. Ah! said Kilne, meditatively, I see him now, walking across the street in the moonlight, after he d told me that. A fine figure of a man! and there aint many Marquises to match him.