Читать книгу: «The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 10, No. 284, November 24, 1827», страница 5
IRISH GRANDEES
Conspicuous amongst the most conspicuous of the stars; of the ascendant, was a lady, who took the field with an éclat, a brilliancy, and bustle, which for a time fixed the attention of all upon herself. Although a fine woman, in the strictest sense of the term, and still handsome, though not still very young, she was even more distinguished by her air of high supremacy, than by her beauty. She sat loftily in a lofty phaeton, which was emblazoned with arms, and covered with coronets; and she played with her long whip, as ladies of old managed their fans, with grace and coquetry. She was dressed in a rich habit, whose facings and epaulettes spoke her the lady of the noble colonel of some provincial corps of volunteers. A high military cap, surmounted with a plume of black feathers, well became her bright, bold, black eyes, and her brow that looked as if accustomed "to threaten and command." The air had deepened her colour through her rouge, as it had blown from her dark, dishevelled tresses the mareschal powder, then still worn in Ireland—(the last lingering barbarism of the British toilette, which France had already abandoned, with other barbarous modes, and exchanged for the coiffure d'Arippine and the tête à la Brutus.) Her pose, her glance, her nod, her smile, all conscious and careless as they were, proclaimed a privileged autocrat of the Irish bon ton, a "dasher," as it was termed, of the first order; for that species of effrontery called dashing was then in full vogue, as consonant to a state of society, where all in a certain class went by assumption.
This lady had arrived rather early in the field, for one whose habits were necessarily on the wrong side of time and of punctuality. She came bowling along, keeping up her fiery steeds to a sort of curvetting gallop, like one deep in the science of the manège—now deranging the order of march of the troops, by breaking through the ranks, in spite of the impertinent remonstrances of the out-posts and videttes, at which she laughed, at once to show her teeth and her power;—and now scattering the humble crowd, "like chaff before the wind," as giving her horses the rein, she permitted them to plunge head-long on, while skilfully flourishing her long whip, she made on every side a preliminary clearance. Many among the multitude announced her as the famous Kitty Cut-dash, and nodded knowingly as she passed them; but the greater number detected in the beautiful charioteer, the equally famous Albina Countess Knocklofty, the female chief of that great oligarchical family, the Proudforts—a family on which the church rained mitres, the state coronets, and the people—curses.
Beside her sat, or rather lounged, another dame of quality, bearing the stamp of her class and caste as obviously, yet less deeply marked, than her companion. More feminine in her air, more foreign in her dress and entire bearing, her faultless form, and almost faultless face, had all the advantages of the new democratic toilet of Paris, (adopted by its court, when more important innovations were still fatally resisted;) and she appeared in the Phoenix Park, dressed much in the same costume as Marie Antoinette and her female favourites are described to have worn in the gardens of Trianon, or in the bowers of St. Cloud,—to the horror of all old dames d'atours, and all the partisans of the ancient regime of whalebone and buckram! The chemise of transparent muslin, or robe à la Poliynae, chapeau de paille à la bergere, tied down with a lilac ribbon, with
"Scarf loosely flowing, hair as free,"
gave an air of sylph-like simplicity to one, whose features, though beautiful, were marked by an expression foreign to simplicity, evincing that taste, not sentiment, presided over her toilet, and that, "chez elle, un beau desordre fut l'effet de l'art."
This triumphal car was followed, or surrounded, by a host of beaux; some in military uniform, and with true English faces and figures; but the greater number in the civil, though uncivilized, dress of the day, and with forms and physiognomies as Irish as ever were exhibited in Pale or Palatine, to the dread of English settlers and Scotch undertakers. Ponderous powdered clubs, hanging from heads of dishevelled hair—shoulders raised or stuffed to an Atlas height and breadth—the stoop of paviers, and the lounge of chairmen—broad beavers, tight buckskins, the striped vest of a groom, and the loose coat of a coachman, gave something ruffianly to the air of even the finest figures, which assorted but too well with the daring, dashing manner, that just then had succeeded, among a particular set, to the courtly polish for which the travelled nobility of Ireland were once so distinguished. Such, in exterior, were many of the members of the famous Cherokee Club, and such the future legislators of that great national indignity, which had procured them a contemptible pre-eminence in the black book of public opinion, by the style and title of the "Union Lords." As they now crowded round the cynosures of the day, there was something too ardent and unrestrained in their homage, something too emphatic in their expressions and gestures, for true breeding; while in their handsome, but "light, revelling, and protesting faces," traces of the night's orgies were still visible, which gave their fine features a licentious cast, and deprived their open and very manly countenances of every mark of intellectual expression.—Lady Morgan's "O'Briens and O'Flahertys."
THE WEE MAN
It was a merry company.
And they were just afloat,
When lo! a man of dwarfish span
Came up and hail'd the boat.
"Good morrow to ye, gentle folks,
And will you let me in?
A slender space will serve my case,
For I am small and thin."
They saw he was a dwarfish man,
And very small and thin;
Not seven such would matter much,
And so they took him in.
They laugh'd to see his little hat,
With such a narrow brim;
They laugh'd to note his dapper coat,
With skirts so scant and trim.
But barely had they gone a mile,
When, gravely, one and all,
At once began to think the man
Was not so very small.
His coat had got a broader skirt,
His hat a broader brim,
His leg grew stout, and soon plump'd out
A very proper limb.
Still on they went, and as they went
More rough the billows grew,—
And rose and fell, a greater swell,
And he was swelling too!
And lo! where room had been for seven,
For six there scarce was space!
For five!—for four!—for three!—not more
Than two could find a place!
There was not even room for one!
They crowded by degrees—
Ay, closer yet, till elbows met,
And knees were jogging knees.
"Good sir, you must not sit a-stern.
The wave will else come in!"
Without a word he gravely stirr'd,
Another seat to win.
"Good sir, the boat has lost her trim,
You must not sit a-lee!"
With smiling face and courteous grace
The middle seat took he.
But still by constant quiet growth,
His back became so wide.
Each neighbour wight, to left and right,
Was thrust against the side.
Lord! how they chided with themselves,
That they had let him in;
To see him grow so monstrous now,
That came so small and thin.
On every brow a dew-drop stood,
They grew so scared and hot,—
"I' the name of all that's great and tall,
Who are ye, sir, and what?"
Loud laugh'd the Gogmagog, a laugh
As loud as giant's roar—
"When first I came, my proper name
Was Little—now I'm Moore!"
Hood's Whims and Oddities Second series.
Manners & Customs of all Nations
No. XV. LIVING AT CALAIS
Calais may, for various reasons, be looked upon as one of the dearest towns in France. An excellent suite of furnished apartments may be had in one of the most respectable private houses in Calais, consisting of a sitting-room, three bedrooms, and a kitchen, for twenty shillings a week, and smaller ones in proportion, down to five shillings a week for a bachelor's apartment. This, however, does not include attendance of any kind; and, with few exceptions, the apartments can only be taken by the month. The price of meat is fixed by a tarif, at a maximum of sixpence per pound for the very best. It varies, therefore, between that price and fourpence; and this pound contains something more than ours. Poultry is still cheaper, in proportion, or rather in fact. My dinner to-day consists, in part, of an excellent fowl, which cost 8d. and a pair of delicate ducks, which cost 1s. 6d. The price of bread is also fixed by law, and amounts to about two-thirds of the present price of ours in London. Butter and eggs are excellent, and always fresh: the first costs from 9d. to 10d. the pound of 18 ounces; and the latter 10d. the quarter of a hundred. Vegetables and fruit, which are all of the finest quality, and fresh from the gardens of the adjacent villages, are as follow:—asparagus, at the rate of 8d. or 9d. the hundred, peas (the picked young ones,) 3d. per quart; new potatoes (better than any we can get in England, except what they call the framed ones,) three pounds far a penny; cherries and currants (picked for the table,) 2d. per pound; strawberries (the high flavoured wood-strawberry, which is so fine with sugar and cream,) 4d. for a full quart, the stocks being picked off. (This latter is a delicacy that can scarcely be procured in England for any price.) The above may serve as an indication of all the rest, as all are in proportion. The finest pure milk is 2d. per quart; good black or green teas, 4s. 6d. per pound; and the finest green gunpowder tea, 7s.; coffee, from 1s. 3d. to 2s.; good brandy, 1s. 3d. per quart, and the very best, 2s. (I do not mean the very finest old Cogniac, which costs 3s. 6d.) Wine is dearer in Calais than, perhaps, in any other town in France, that could be named; but still you may have an excellent table wine for 1s. per quart bottle; and they make a very palatable and wholesome beer, for 1-1/2d. and 2-1/2d. per bottle—the latter of which has all the good qualities of our porter, and none of its bad. Fish is not plentiful at Calais, except the skate, which you may have for almost nothing, as indeed you may at many of our own sea-port towns. But you may always have good sized turbot (enough for six persons for 3s. and a cod weighing from twelve to fifteen pounds,) for half that sum. As to the wages of female servants, they can scarcely be considered as much cheaper, nominally, than they are with us. But then the habits of the servants, and the cost of what they eat, make their keep and wages together amount to not more than half what they do with us.
It only remains to tell you of what is dearer here than it is in England, I have tried all I can to find out items belonging to this latter head, and have succeeded in two alone—namely, sugar and fuel. You cannot have brown sugar under 8d. and indifferent loaf sugar costs 1s. 3d. And as to firing, it is dearer, nominally alone, and in point of fact, does not cost, to a well regulated family, near so much, in the course of the year, as coals do in our houses.—Monthly Magazine.
