prodigals who were kindly treated; and we may have debts of our own to
forgive, boys."
Into Mr. Sherrick's account we had no need to enter. That gentleman had
acted with perfect fairness by Honeyman. He laughingly said to us, "You
don't imagine I would lend that chap a shilling without security?
I will give him fifty or a hundred. Here's one of his notes, with
What-do-you-call-'ems--that rum fellow Bayham's name as drawer. A nice
pair, ain't they? Pooh! I shall never touch 'em. I lent some money on the
shop overhead," says Sherrick, pointing to the ceiling (we were in his
counting-house in the cellar of Lady Whittlesea's Chapel), "because I
thought it was a good speculation. And so it was at first. The people
liked Honeyman. All the nobs came to hear him. Now the speculation ain't
so good. He's used up. A chap can't be expected to last for ever. When I
first engaged Mademoiselle Bravura at my theatre, you couldn't get a
place for three weeks together. The next year she didn't draw twenty
pounds a week. So it was with Pottle and the regular drama humbug. At
first it was all very well. Good business, good houses, our immortal
bard, and that sort of game. They engaged the tigers and the French
riding people over the way; and there was Pottle bellowing away in my
place to the orchestra and the orders. It's all a speculation. I've
speculated in about pretty much everything that's going: in theatres, in
joint-stock jobs, in building-ground, in bills, in gas and insurance
companies, and in this chapel. Poor old Honeyman! I won't hurt him. About
that other chap I put in to do the first business--that red-haired chap,
Rawkins--I think I was wrong. I think he injured the property. But I
don't know everything, you know. I wasn't bred to know about parsons--
quite the reverse. I thought, when I heard Rawkins at Hampstead, he was
just the thing. I used to go about, sir, just as I did to the provinces,
when I had the theatre--Camberwell, Islington, Kennington, Clapton, all
about, and hear the young chaps. Have a glass of sherry; and here's
better luck to Honeyman. As for that Colonel, he's a trump, sir! I never
see such a man. I have to deal with such a precious lot of rogues, in the
City and out of it, among the swells and all, you know, that to see such
a fellow refreshes me; and I'd do anything for him. You've made a good
thing of that Pall Mall Gazette! I tried papers too; but mine didn't do.
I don't know why. I tried a Tory one, moderate Liberal, and out-and-out
uncompromising Radical. I say, what d'ye think of a religious paper, the
Catechism, or some such name? Would Honeyman do as editor? I'm afraid
it's all up with the poor cove at the chapel." And I parted with Mr.
Sherrick, not a little edified by his talk, and greatly relieved as to
Honeyman's fate. The tradesmen of Honeyman's body were appeased; and as
for Mr. Moss, when he found that the curate had no effects, and must go
before the Insolvent Court, unless Moss chose to take the composition
which we were empowered to offer him, he too was brought to hear reason,
and parted with the stamped paper on which was poor Honeyman's signature.
Our negotiation had like to have come to an end by Clive's untimely
indignation, who offered at one stage of the proceedings to pitch young
Moss out of window; but nothing came of this most ungentlemanlike
behaviour on Noocob's part, further than remonstrance and delay in the
proceedings; and Honeyman preached a lovely sermon at Lady Whittlesea's
the very next Sunday. He had made himself much liked in the
sponging-house, and Mr. Lazarus said, "if he hadn't a got out time
enough, I'd a let him out for Sunday, and sent one of my men with him
to show him the way ome, you know; for when a gentleman behaves as a
gentleman to me, I behave as a gentleman to him."
Mrs. Ridley's account, and it was a long one, was paid without a single
question, or the deduction of a farthing; but the Colonel rather sickened
of Honeyman's expressions of rapturous gratitude, and received his
professions of mingled contrition and delight very coolly. "My boy," says
the father to Clive, "you see to what straits debt brings a man, to
tamper with truth to have to cheat the poor. Think of flying before a
washerwoman, or humbling yourself to a tailor, or eating a poor man's
children's bread!" Clive blushed, I thought, and looked rather confused.
"Oh, father," says he, "I--I'm afraid I owe some money too--not much; but
about forty pound, five-and-twenty for cigars, and fifteen I borrowed of
Pendennis, and--and I've been devilish annoyed about it all this time."
"You stupid boy," says the father "I knew about the cigars bill, and paid
it last week. Anything I have is yours, you know. As long as there is a
guinea, there is half for you. See that every shilling we owe is paid
before--before a week is over. And go down and ask Binnie if I can see
him in his study. I want to have some conversation with him." When Clive
was gone away, he said to me in a very sweet voice, "In God's name, keep
my boy out of debt when I am gone, Arthur. I shall return to India very
soon."
"Very soon, sir! You have another year's leave," said I.
"Yes, but no allowances, you know; and this affair of Honeyman's has
pretty nearly emptied the little purse I had set aside for European
expenses. They have been very much heavier than I expected. As it is, I
overdrew my account at my brother's, and have been obliged to draw money
from my agents in Calcutta. A year sooner or later (unless two of our
senior officers had died, when I should have got my promotion and
full colonel's pay with it, and proposed to remain in this country)--a
year sooner or later, what does it matter? Clive will go away and work at
his art, and see the great schools of painting while I am absent. I
thought at one time how pleasant it would be to accompany him. But
l'homme propose, Pendennis. I fancy now a lad is not the better for being
always tied to his parent's apron-string. You young fellows are too
clever for me. I haven't learned your ideas or read your books. I feel
myself very often an old damper in your company. I will go back, sir,
where I have some friends, where I am somebody still. I know an honest
face or two, white and brown, that will lighten up in the old regiment
when they see Tom Newcome again. God bless you, Arthur. You young fellows
in this country have such cold ways that we old ones hardly know how to
like you at first. James Binnie and I, when we first came home, used to
talk you over, and think you laughed at us. But you didn't, I know. God
Almighty bless you, and send you a good wife, and make a good man of you.
I have bought a watch, which I would like you to wear in remembrance of
me and my boy, to whom you were so kind when you were boys together in
the old Grey Friars." I took his hand, and uttered some incoherent words
of affection and respect. Did not Thomas Newcome merit both from all who
knew him?
His resolution being taken, our good Colonel began to make silent but
effectual preparations for his coming depa
rture. He was pleased during
these last days of his stay to give me even more of his confidence than I
had previously enjoyed, and was kind enough to say that he regarded me
almost as a son of his own, and hoped I would act as elder brother and
guardian to Clive. Ah! who is to guard the guardian? The younger brother
had many nobler qualities than belonged to the elder. The world had not
hardened Clive, nor even succeeded in spoiling him. I perceive I am
diverging from his history into that of another person, and will return
to the subject proper of the book.
Colonel Newcome expressed himself as being particularly touched and
pleased with his friend Binnie's conduct, now that the Colonel's
departure was determined. "James is one of the most generous of men,
Pendennis, and I am proud to be put under an obligation to him, and to
tell it too. I hired this house, as you are aware, of our speculative
friend Mr. Sherrick, and am answerable for the payment of the rent till
the expiry of the lease. James has taken the matter off my hands
entirely. The place is greatly too large for him, but he says that he
likes it, and intends to stay, and that his sister and niece shall be his
housekeepers. Clive" (here, perhaps, the speaker's voice drops a little)
--"Clive will be the son of the house still, honest James says, and God
bless him. James is richer than I thought by near a lakh of rupees--and
here is a hint for you, Master Arthur. Mr. Binnie has declared to me in
confidence that if his niece, Miss Rosey, shall marry a person of whom he
approves, he will leave her a considerable part of his fortune."
The Colonel's confidant here said that his own arrangements were made in
another quarter, to which statement the Colonel replied knowingly, "I
thought so. A little bird has whispered to me the name of a certain Miss
A. I knew her grandfather, an accommodating old gentleman, and I borrowed
some money from him when I was a subaltern at Calcutta. I tell you in
strict confidence, my dear young friend, that I hope and trust a certain
pretty and sweet-tempered a girl Miss Mackenzie is, and that she may be
brought to like him. If you young men would marry in good time good and
virtuous women--as I am sure--ahem!--Miss Amory is--half the temptations
of your youth would be avoided. You would neither be dissolute, has many
of you seem to me, or cold and selfish, which are worse vices still. And
my prayer is, that my Clive may cast anchor early out of the reach of
temptation, and mate with some such kind girl as Binnie's niece. When I
first came home I formed other plans for him which could not be brought
to a successful issue; and knowing his ardent disposition, and having
kept an eye on the young rogue's conduct, I tremble lest some mischance
with a woman should befall him, and long to have him out of danger."
So the kind scheme of the two elders was, that their young ones should
marry and be happy ever after, like the Prince and Princess of the Fairy
Tale: and dear Mrs. Mackenzie (have I said that at the commencement of
her visit to her brother she made almost open love to the Colonel?), dear
Mrs. Mack was content to forgo her own chances so that her darling Rosey
might be happy. We used to laugh and say, that as soon as Clive's father
was gone, Josey would be sent for to join Rosey. But little Josey being
under her grandmother's sole influence took most gratifying and serious
turn; wrote letters, in which she questioned the morality of operas,
Towers of London, and waxworks; and, before a year was out, married Elder
Bogie, of Mr. M'Craw's church.
Presently was to be read in the Morning Post an advertisement of the sale
of three horses (the description and pedigree following), "the property
of an officer returning to India. Apply to the groom, at the stables, 150
Fitzroy Square."
The Court of Directors invited Lieutenant-Colonel Newcome to an
entertainment given to Major-General Sir Ralph Spurrier, K.C.B.,
appointed Commander-in-Chief at Madras. Clive was asked to this dinner
too, "and the governor's health was drunk, sir," Clive said, "after
dinner, and the dear old fellow made such a good speech, in returning
thanks!"
He, Clive, and I made a pilgrimage to Grey Friars, and had the Green to
ourselves, it being the Bartlemytide vacation, and the boys all away. One
of the good old Poor Brothers whom we both recollected accompanied us
round the place; and we sate for a while in Captain Scarsdale's little
room (he had been a Peninsular officer, who had sold out, and was fain in
his old age to retire into this calm retreat). And we talked, as old
schoolmates and lovers talk, about subjects interesting to schoolmates
and lovers only.
One by one the Colonel took leave of his friends, young and old; ran down
to Newcome, and gave Mrs. Mason a parting benediction; slept a night at
Tom Smith's, and passed a day with Jack Brown; went to all the boys' and
girls' schools where his little proteges were, so as to be able to take
the very last and most authentic account of the young folks to their
parents in India; spent a week at Marble Hill, and shot partridges there,
but for which entertainment, Clive said, the place would have been
intolerable; and thence proceeded to Brighton to pass a little time with
good Miss Honeyman. As for Sir Brian's family, when Parliament broke up,
of course, they did not stay in town. Barnes, of course, had part of a
moor in Scotland, whither his uncle and cousin did not follow him. The
rest went abroad. Sir Brian wanted the waters of Aix-la-Chapelle. The
brothers parted very good friends; Lady Anne, and all the young people,
heartily wished him farewell. I believe Sir Brian even accompanied the
Colonel downstairs from the drawing-room, in Park Lane, and actually came
out and saw his brother into his cab (just as he would accompany old Lady
Bagges when she came to look at her account at the bank, from the parlour
to her carriage). But as for Ethel, she was not going to be put off with
this sort of parting and the next morning a cab dashed up to Fitzroy
Square, and a veiled lady came out thence, and was closeted with Colonel
Newcome for five minutes, and when he led her back to the carriage there
were tears in his eyes.
Mrs. Mackenzie joked about the transaction (having watched it from the
dining-room windows), and asked the Colonel who his sweetheart was?
Newcome replied very sternly, that he hoped no one would ever speak
thought Rosey looked vexed at the praises thus bestowed. This was the day
before we all went down to Brighton. Miss Honeyman's lodgings were taken
for Mr. Binnie and his ladies. Clive and her dearest Colonel had
apartments next door. Charles Honeyman came dawn and preached one of his
very best sermons. Fred Bayham was there, and looked particularly grand
and noble on the pier and the cliff. I am inclined to think he had had
some explanation with Thomas Newcome
, which had placed F. B. in a state
of at least temporary prosperity. Whom did he not benefit whom he knew,
and what eye that saw him did not bless him? F. B. was greatly affected
at Charles's sermon, of which our party of course could see the
allusions. Tears actually rolled down his brown cheeks; for Fred was a
man very easily moved, and, as it were, a softened sinner. Little Rosey
and her mother sobbed audibly, greatly to the surprise of stout old Miss
Honeyman, who had no idea of such watery exhibitions, and to the
discomfiture of poor Newcome, who was annoyed to have his praises even
hinted in that sacred edifice. Good Mr. James Binnie came for once to
church; and, however variously their feelings might be exhibited or,
repressed, I think there was not one of the little circle there assembled
who did not bring to the place a humble prayer and a gentle heart. It was
the last Sabbath-bell our dear friend was to hear for many a day on his
native shore. The great sea washed the beach as we came out, blue with
the reflection of the skies, and its innumerable waves crested with
sunshine. I see the good man and his boy yet clinging to him, as they
pace together by the shore.
The Colonel was very much pleased by a visit from Mr. Ridley and the
communication which he made (my Lord Todmorden has a mansion and park in
Sussex, whence Mr. Ridley came to pay his duty to Colonel Newcome). He
said he "never could forget the kindness with which the Colonel have a
treated him. His lordship have taken a young man, which Mr. Ridley had
brought him up under his own eye, and can answer for him, Mr. R. says,
with impunity; and which he is to be his lordship's own man for the
future. And his lordship have appointed me his steward, and having, as he
always hev been, been most liberal in point of sellary. And me and Mrs.
Ridley was thinking, sir, most respectfully, with regard to our son, Mr.
John James Ridley--as good and honest a young man, which I am proud to
say it, that if Mr. Clive goes abroad we should be most proud and happy
if John James went with him. And the money which you have paid us so
handsome, Colonel, he shall have it; which it was the excellent ideer of
Miss Cann; and my lord have ordered a pictur of John James in the most
libral manner, and have asked my son to dinner, sir, at his lordship's
own table, which I have faithfully served him five-and-thirty years."
Ridley's voice fairly broke down at this part of his speech, which
evidently was a studied composition, and he uttered no more of it, for
the Colonel cordially shook him by the hand, and Clive jumped up clapping
his, and saying that it was the greatest wish of his heart that J. J. and
he should be companions in France and Italy. "But I did not like to ask
my dear old father," he said, "who has had so many calls on his purse,
and besides, I knew that J. J. was too independent to come as my
follower."
The Colonel's berth has been duly secured ere now. This time he makes the
overland journey; and his passage is to Alexandria, taken in one of the
noble ships of the Peninsular and Oriental Company. His kit is as simple
as a subaltern's; I believe, but for Clive's friendly compulsion, he
would have carried back no other than the old uniform which has served
him for so many years. Clive and his father travelled to Southampton
together by themselves. F. B. and I took the Southampton coach: we had
asked leave to see the last of him, and say a "God bless you" to our dear
old friend. So the day came when the vessel was to sail. We saw his
cabin, and witnessed all the bustle and stir on board the good ship on a
day of departure. Our thoughts, however, were fixed but on one person--
the case, no doubt, with hundreds more on such a day. There was many a
group of friends closing wistfully together on the sunny deck, and saying
the last words of blessing and farewell. The bustle of the ship passes