THE KIGKLEBURYS 
 ON THE RHINE 
 
 BY MR. M. A. TITMARSH
 
 r v^^' 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 \ 
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS 
 
 ON THE RHINE.
 
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 THE INTERIOR OF HADES Frontispiece. 
 
 AN ADMIRER Of THE PICTURESQUE Title 
 
 MY LADY, THE COUNTESS Page IS 
 
 MORE WIND THAN IS PLEASANT 20 
 
 "WE CALL THOSE UGLIES! CAPTAIN HICKS" ... 25 
 
 HIRSCH AND THE LUGGAGE 33 
 
 AN HEREDITARY LEGISLATOR 39 
 
 THE REINECKS 41 
 
 A SPECIMEN OF A BRITON . 45 
 
 THE WATER CURE . 59 
 
 THE GERMAN PEASANT MAIDEN 65 
 
 CHARGE OF NOIRBOURG INFANTRY 67 
 
 THE OLD STORY 70 
 
 THE PRINCESS OF MAGADOR 82 
 
 ' SCHLAFEN SIE WOHL " 85 
 
 f^>f^ 
 
 i 0706?^-
 
 PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION: 
 
 BEING 
 
 AN ESSAY ON THUNDER AND SMALL BEER. 
 
 Any reader who may have a fancy to purchase a copy of this 
 present second edition of the History of the Kickleburys 
 Abroad, had best be warned in time, that the Ti?nes news- 
 paper does not approve of the work, and has but a bad 
 opinion both of the author and his readers. Nothing can 
 be fairer than this statement : if you happen to take up 
 the poor little volume at a railroad station, and read this 
 sentence, lay the book down, and buy something else. You 
 are warned. What more can the author say ? If after this 
 you will buy, — amen ! pay your money, take your book, and 
 fall to. Between ourselves, honest reader, it is no very 
 strong potation which the present purveyor offers to you.
 
 11 PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION : 
 
 It -will not trouble your head much in the drinlving. It was 
 intended for tliat sort of negus which is offered at Christmas 
 parties ; and of which ladies and children may partake with 
 refreshment and cheerfulness. Last year I tried a brew 
 which was old, bitter, and strong ; and scarce any one would 
 drink it. This year we send round a milder tap, and it is 
 liked by customers : though the critics (who like strong ale, 
 the rogues !) turn up their noses. In heaven's name, Mr. 
 Smith, serve round the liquor to the gentlefolks. Pray, dear 
 Madam, another glass ; it is Christmas time, it will do you 
 no harm. It is not intended to keep long, this sort of drink. 
 (Come, froth up, ]\Ir. Publisher, and pass quickly round !) 
 And as for the professional gentlemen, we must get a stronger 
 sort for them some day. 
 
 The Times gentleman (a very difficult gent, to please) is 
 the loudest and noisiest of all, and has made more hideous 
 faces over the refreshment offered to him than any other 
 critic. There is no use shirking this statement : when a 
 man has been abused in the Times, he can't hide it, any more 
 than he could hide the knowledge of his having been com- 
 mitted to prison by Mr. Henry, or publicly caned in Pall 
 Mall. You see it in your friends' eyes when they meet you.
 
 AN ESSAY ON THUNDER AND SMALL liEER. Ill 
 
 They know it. They have chuckled over it to a man. They 
 whisper about it at the club, and look over the paper at you. 
 My next door neighbour came to see me this morning, and 
 I saw by his face that he had the whole story pat. " Hem \" 
 says he, " well, I have heard of it ; and the fact is, they 
 were talking about you at dinner last night, and mentioning 
 that the Times had — ahem ! — ' walked into you.^ " 
 
 My good M (I say, and M will corroborate, if 
 
 need be, the statement I make here), here is the Times 
 article, dated January 4th, which states so and so, and here 
 is a letter from the publisher, likewise dated January 4th, 
 and which says : — 
 
 " My dear Sir, — Having this day sold the last copy of the 
 first edition (of ^ thousand) of the ' Kickleburys Abroad,' 
 and having orders for more, had we not better proceed to 
 a second edition? and will you permit me to enclose an 
 order on,^^ &e. &c. ? 
 
 Singular coincidence ! And if every author who was so 
 abused by a critic had a similar note from a publisher, good 
 Lord ! how easily would we take the critic's censure ! 
 
 " Yes, yes," you say ; " it is all very well for a writer to
 
 IV PREFACE TO THl:: SKCOND EDITION : 
 
 affect to be indifferent to a critique from the Times. You 
 bear it as a boy bears a flogging at school_, witliout crying 
 out ; but don't swagger and brag as if you liked it." 
 
 Let us have truth before all. I woidd rather have a 
 good word than a bad one from any person : but if a critic 
 abuses me from a high place, and it is worth my while, I will 
 appeal. If I can show that the Judge who is delivering 
 sentence against me, and laying doT\Ti the law and making a 
 pretence of learning, has no learning and no law, and is 
 neither more nor less than a pompous noodle, who ought not 
 to be heard in any respectable court, I will do so ; and, then, 
 dear friends, perhaps you will have something to laugh at in 
 this book. 
 
 The Kicklebueys Abkoad. 
 
 " It Las been customary, of late years, for the purveyors of amusing; 
 literature — tlie popular authors of the day — to put forth certain ojjuscules, 
 denominated ' Cliristmas Books,' with the ostensible intention of swelling 
 the tide of exhilaration, or other expansive emotions, incident upon the 
 exodus of the old and the inauguration of the new year. AVc have said 
 that their ostensililc intention was such, because there is anotlier motive 
 for these productions, locked up (as the popular author deems) in his own 
 brea.st, but which betrays itself, in the quality of the work, as his principal 
 incentive. Oh ! that any muse should be set upon a high stool to cast up 
 accounts and balance a kdgor! Yet so it is; and the popular author flnd^l 
 it convenient to fill up the declared deficit, and place himself in a position 
 the more effectually to encounter those liabilities which sternly assert 
 themselves contemporaneously and in ccntrast with the careless and free- 
 handed tendencies of the season bv the emission of Christmas books — a
 
 AN ESSAY ON THUNDER AND SMALL BEER. V 
 
 kind of literary ass'ujnats, representing to the emitter expunged debts, to 
 the receiver an investment of enigmatical value. I'or the most part bear- 
 ing the stamp of tlioir origin in the vacuity of the writer's excliequer 
 rather than in the fullness of his genius, they suggest by their feeble 
 flavour the rhisings of a void brain after the more important concoctions of 
 the expired year. Indeed, we should as little think of taking these com- 
 positions as examples of the merits of their authors as we shoiJd think of 
 measuring the valuable services of Mr. Walker, the postman, or Mr. Ikll, 
 the dust-collector, by the copy of verses they leave at our doors as a provo- 
 cative of the expected annual gratuity — effusions with which tliey may fairly 
 be classed for their intrinsic worth no less than their ultimate purport. 
 
 " In the Christmas book presently under notice, the author appears 
 (under the thin disguise of Mr. Michael Angelo Titmarsh) in 'propria 
 persona' as the popular author, the contributor to Punch, the remorseless 
 pursuer of unconscious vulgarity and feeble-mindedness, launched upon a 
 tour of relaxation to the Rhine. But tliough exercising, as is the wont of 
 popular authors in their moments of leisure, a plentiful reserve of those 
 higher qualities to which they are indebted for their fame, his professional 
 instincts are not altogether in abeyance. From the moment his eye lights 
 upon a luckless family group embarked on the same steamer with himself, 
 the sight of his accustomed quarry — vulgarity, imbecility, and affectation 
 — reanimates his relaxed sinews, and, playfully fastening his satiric fangs 
 upon the familiar prey, he dallies with it in mimic ferocity like a satiated 
 mouser, 
 
 " Tliough faintly and carelessly indicated, the characters are those with 
 which the author loves to surround himself. A tuft-hunting county 
 baronet's widow, an inane captain of dragoons, a graceless young baronet, 
 a lady with groundless pretensions to feeble health and poesy, an obsequious 
 nonentity, her husband, and a flimsy and artificial young lady, are the 
 personages in whom we are expected to find amusement Two individuals 
 alone form au exception to the above category, and are offered to the 
 respectful admiration of the reader, — the one, a shadowy serjeant-at-law, 
 Mr. Titmarsh's travelling companion, who escapes with a few side puffs of 
 flattery, which the author struggles not to render ironical, and a mysterious 
 countess, spoken of in a tone of religious reverence, and apparently intro- 
 duced that we may learn by what delicate discriminations our adoration of 
 rank should be regulated. 
 
 " To those who love to hug themselves in a sense of superiority by ad-
 
 VI PRBFACi; TO THE SECOND EDITION : 
 
 measurement with the most worthless of their speeies, ia their most worth- 
 less aspects, the Kicklcburi/x on the Rhine will afford an agreeable treat, 
 especially as the purveyor of the feast offers his own moments of human 
 weakness as a moJost entree in this banquet of erring mortality. To our 
 own, perhaps uui)hilqsoi)hical, taste the aspiratiuns towards sentimental 
 perfection of another jiopular author are infinitely preferable to these 
 sardonic divings after the pearl of truth, whose lustre is eclipsed in the 
 display of the diseased oyster. Much, in the present instance, perhaps all, 
 the disagreeable effect of his subject is no doubt attributable to the 
 absence of Mr. Thackeray's usual brilliancy of style. A few flashes, how- 
 ever, occur, such as the description of M. Lenoir's gaming establisliment, 
 with the momentous crisis to which it was subjected, and the quaint and 
 imaginative sallies evoked by tlic whole town of Rougetnoirbourg and its 
 lawful prince. These, with the illustrations, wliich are spirited enough, 
 redeem the book from an absolute ban. Mr. Thackeray's pencil is more 
 congenial than his pen. He cannot draw his men and women with their 
 skins off, and, therefore, the effigies of his characters are pleasanter to 
 contemplate than the flayed anatomies of the letter -press." 
 
 There is the whole article. And the reader will see (in 
 the paragraph preceding that memorable one which winds up 
 with the diseased oyster) that he must be a worthless creature 
 for daring to like the book, as he could only do so from a 
 desire to hug himself in a sense of superiority by admeasure- 
 ment with the most worthless of his fellow- creatures ! 
 
 The reader is worthless for liking a book of which all the 
 characters are worthless except two which are oflFered to his 
 respectful admiration ; and of these two the author does not 
 respect one, but struggles not to laugh in his face ; whilst he 
 apparently speaks of another in a tone of religious reverence,
 
 AN ESSAY ON THUNDER AND SMALL BEER. Vll 
 
 because the lady is a countess, and because he (the author) is 
 a sneak. So reader, author, characters, are rogues all. Be 
 there any honest men left, Hal? About Printing-house 
 Square, mayhap you may light on an honest man, a squeamish 
 man, a proper moral man, a man that shall talk you Latin 
 by the half-column if you will but hear him. 
 
 And what a style it is, that great man's ! What hoighth 
 of foine language entoirely ! How he can discoorse you in 
 English for all the world as if it was Latin ! For instance, 
 suppose you and I had to announce the important news that 
 some writers published what are called Christmas books ; that 
 Christmas books are so called because they are published at 
 Christmas : and that the purpose of the authors is to try and 
 amuse people. Suppose, I say, we had, by the sheer force of 
 intellect, or by other means of observation or information, 
 discovered these great truths, we should have announced 
 them in so many words. And there it is that the difference 
 lies between a great writer and a poor one ; and we may see 
 how an inferior man may fling a chance away. How does 
 my friend of the Times put these propositions ? " It has 
 been customary,'' says he, " of late years for the purveyors of 
 amusing literature to put forth certain opuscules, denomi-
 
 Vm PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION : 
 
 nated Christmas books, with the ostensible intention of 
 swelling the tide of exhilaration, or other expansive emotions, 
 incident upon the exodus of the old or the inauguration of 
 the new year/' That is something like a sentence; not a 
 word scarcely but's in Latin, and the longest and hand- 
 somest out of the whole dictionary. That is proper economy 
 — as you see a buck from Holywell Street put every pinch- 
 beck pin, ring, and chain which he possesses about his shirt, 
 hands, and waistcoat, and then go and cut a dash in the Park, 
 or swagger Avitli his order to tlic theatre. It costs him no 
 more to wear all his ornaments about his distinguished person 
 than to leave them at home. If you can be a swell at a 
 cheap rate, why not ? And I protest, for my part, I had no 
 idea what I was really about in wi'iting and submitting my 
 little book for sale, until my friend the critic, looking at 
 the article, and examining it with the eyes of a connoisseur, 
 pronounced that what I had fancied simply to be a book was 
 in fact " an opuscule denominated so-and-so, and ostensibly 
 intended to swell the tide of expansive emotion incident upon 
 the inauguration of the new year." I can hardly believe as 
 much even now — so little do we know what we really are 
 after, until men of genius come and interpret.
 
 AN TiSSAY ON THUNDER AND SMALL BEER. IX 
 
 And besides the ostensible intention, the reader will per- 
 ceive that my judge has discovered another latent motive, 
 which I had " locked up in my own breast/^ The sly rogue ! 
 (if we may so speak of the court.) There is no keeping any- 
 thing from him ; and this truth, like the rest, has come out, 
 and is all over England by this time. O that all England, 
 which has bought the judge's charge, would purchase the 
 prisoner's plea in mitigation ! " O that any muse should be 
 set on a high stool," says the bench, '' to cast up accounts and 
 balance a ledger ! Yet so it is ; and the popular author finds 
 it convenient to fill up the declared deficit by the emission 
 of Christmas books — a kind of assignats that bear the stamp 
 of their origin in the vacuity of the writer^s exchequer/' 
 There is a trope for you ! You rascal, you wrote because you 
 wanted money ! His lordship has found out what you were 
 at, and that there is a deficit in your till. But he goes on to 
 say that we poor devils are to be pitied in our necessity ; and 
 that these compositions are no more to be taken as examples 
 of our merits than the verses which the dustman leaves at his 
 lordship's door, " as a provocative of the expected annual 
 gratuity," are to be considered as measuring his, the sca- 
 venger's, valuable services — nevertheless the author's and the
 
 X PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION : 
 
 scavenger's " effusions may fairly be classed, for their intrinsic 
 worth, no less than their ultimate purport/' 
 
 Heaven bless his lordship on the bench — What a gentle- 
 man-like badinage he has^ and what a charming and playful 
 wit always at hand ! What a sense he has for a simile, or 
 what Mrs. Malaprop calls an odorous comparison, and how 
 gracefully he conducts it to " its ultimate purport." A gentle- 
 man writing a poor little book is a scavenger asking for a 
 Christmas-box ! 
 
 As I try this small beer which has called down such a deal 
 of thunder, I can't help thinking that it is not Jove who has 
 interfered (the case was scarce worthy of his divine vindic- 
 tiveness) ; but the Thunderer's man, Jupiter Jeames, taking 
 his master's place, adopting his manner, and trying to dazzle 
 and roar like his awful employer. That figure of the dust- 
 man has hardly been flung fi*om heaven : that " ultimate 
 purport'^ is a subject which the Immortal would hardly 
 handle. Well, well ; let us allow that the book is not worthy 
 of such a polite critic — that the beer is not strong enough 
 for a gentleman who has taste and experience in beer. 
 
 That opinion no man can ask his honour to alter ; but (the
 
 AN ESSAY ON THUNDER AND SMALL BEER. XI 
 
 beer being the question), why make unpleasant allusions to 
 the Gazette, and hint at the probable bankruptcy of the 
 brewer ? Why twit me with my poverty ; and what can the 
 Times critic know about the vacuity of my exchequer ? Did 
 he ever lend me any money? Does he not himself write 
 for money? (and who would grudge it to such a polite and 
 generous and learned author ?) If he finds no disgrace in being 
 paid, why should I ? If he has ever been poor, why should 
 he joke at my empty exchequer ? Of course such a genius 
 is paid for his work : with such neat logic, such a pure style, 
 such a charming poetical turn of phrase, of course a critic 
 gets money. Why, a man who can say of a Christmas book 
 that " it is an opuscule denominated so and so, and ostensibly 
 intended to swell the tide of expansive emotion incident upon 
 the exodus of the old year,'^ must evidently have had im- 
 mense sums and care expended on his early education, and 
 deserves a splendid return. You can't go into the market, 
 and get scholarship like that, without paying for it : even the 
 flogging that such a writer must have had in early youth, (if 
 he was at a public school were the rods were paid for,) must 
 have cost his parents a good sum. Where would you find 
 any but an accomplished classical scholar to compare the
 
 XU PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION : 
 
 books of the present (or indeed any other) writer to " sar- 
 donic divings after the pearl of truth, whose lustre is eclipsed 
 in the display of the diseased oyster;" mere Billingsgate 
 does n't turn out oysters like these ; they are of the Lucrine 
 lake ; — this satirist has pickled his rods in Latin brine. 
 Fancy^ not merely a diver, but a sardonic diver : and the 
 expression of his confounded countenance on discovering not 
 only a pearl, but an eclipsed pearl, who was in a diseased 
 oyster ! I say it is only by an uncommon and happy combi- 
 nation of taste, genius, and industry, that a man can arrive 
 at uttering such sentiments in such fine language, — that such 
 a man ought to be well paid, as I have no doubt he is, and 
 that he is worthily employed to write literary articles, in 
 large type, in the leading Journal of Europe. Don't we 
 want men of eminence and polite learning to sit on the 
 literary bench, and to direct the public opinion ? 
 
 But when this profound scholar compares me to a scavenger 
 who leaves a copy of verses at his door and begs for a Christ- 
 mas-box, I must again cry out, and say, " My dear sir, it is 
 true your simile is offensive, but can you make it out ? Are 
 you not hasty in your figures and allusions ? " If I might 
 give a hint to so consummate a rhetorician, you should be
 
 AN ESSAY ON THUNDER AND SMALL BEER. xui 
 
 more careful in making your figures figures, and your similes 
 like : for instance, when you talk of a book " swelling the 
 tide of exhilaration incident to the inauguration of the new 
 year/' or of a book " bearing the stamp of its origin in 
 vacuity/' &c., — or of a man diving sardonically; or of a 
 pearl eclipsed in the display of a diseased oyster — there are 
 some people who will not apprehend your meaning : some 
 will doubt whether you had a meaning : some even will ques- 
 tion your great powers, and say, " Is this man to be a critic 
 in a newspaper, which knows Avhat English and Latin too, 
 and what sense and scholarship, are ? '' I do n't quarrel with 
 you — I take for granted your wit and learning, your modesty 
 and benevolence — but why scavenger — Jupiter Jeames — why 
 scavenger ? A gentleman, whose biography the Examiner 
 was fond of quoting before it took its present serious and 
 orthodox turn, was pursued by an outraged Avife to the very 
 last stage of his existence with an appeal almost as pathetic 
 — Ah, sir, why scavenger? 
 
 How can I be like a dustman that rings for a Christmas- 
 box at your hall- door ? I never was there in my life. I 
 never left at your door a copy of verses provocative of an 
 annual gratuity, as your noble honour styles it. Who are
 
 xiv PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION : 
 
 you? If you are the man I take you to be^ it must have 
 been you who asked the publisher for my book, and not I 
 who scut it in, and begged a gratuity of your worship. You 
 abused me out of the Times' window ; but if ever your noble 
 honour sent me a gratuity out of your own door, may I never 
 drive another dust-cart. " Provocative of a gratuity ! " O 
 splendid swell ! How much was it your worship sent out to 
 me by the footman ? Every farthing you have paid I will 
 restore to your lordship, and I swear I shall not be a half- 
 penny the poorer. 
 
 As before, and on similar seasons and occasions, I have 
 compared myself to a person following a not dissimilar calling, 
 let me suppose, now for a minute, that I am a writer of a 
 Christmas farce, who sits in the pit, and sees the performance 
 of his own piece. There comes applause, hissing, yaAvning, 
 laughter, as may be ; but the loudest critic of all is our friend 
 the cheap buck, who sits yonder and makes his remarks, so 
 that all the audience may hear. " Tliis a farce ! " says Beau 
 Tibbs, " dcmmy ! it ^s the work of a poor devil who writes for 
 money, — confound his vulgarity ! This a farce ! Why is n't 
 it a tragedy, or a comedy, or an epic poem, stap my vitals ? 
 This is a farce, indeed ! It 's a feller as sends round his 'at.
 
 AN ESSAY ON THUNDER AND SMALL BEER. XV 
 
 and appeals to charity. Let 's 'ave our money back again, 1 
 say." And he swaggers off; — and you find the fellow came 
 with an author's order. 
 
 But if, in spite of Tibbs, our " kyind friends," &c., &c., &c. 
 — if the little farce, which was meant to amuse Christmas, 
 (or what my classical friend calls Exodus,) is asked for, even 
 up to TAvelfth Night, — shall the publishers stop because Tibbs 
 is dissatisfied? Whenever that capitalist calls to get his 
 money back, he may see the letter from the respected pub- 
 lisher, informing the author that all the copies are sold, and 
 that there are demands for a new edition. Up with the 
 curtain, then ! Vivat K,egina ! and no money returned, 
 except the Times' " gratuity ! " 
 
 M. A. TITMARSH. 
 
 January 5.
 
 THE 
 
 KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 The cabman, when he brought us to the wharf, and made 
 his usual charge of six times his legal fare, before the settle- 
 ment of which he pretended to refuse the privilege of an 
 exeat regno to our luggage, glared like a disappointed fiend, 
 when Lankin, calling up the faithful Hutchison, his clerk, 
 who was in attendance, said to him, " Hutchison, you Avill 
 pay this man. My name is Serjeant Lankin, my chambers 
 are in Pump Court. My clerk will settle with you, sir." 
 The cabman trembled ; we stepped on board ; our lightsome 
 luggage was speedily whisked away by the crew ; our berths 
 had been secured by the previous agency of Hutchison ; and 
 a couple of tickets, on which were written, " Mr. Serjeant 
 Lankin,^' '' Mr. Titmarsh," (Lankin's, by the way, incom- 
 
 B
 
 2 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE IIHINE. 
 
 parably the best and comfortablest sleeping place), were 
 pinned on to two of the curtains of the beds in a side cabin 
 when we descended. 
 
 Who was on board ? There were Jews, with Sunday papers 
 and fruit ; there were couriers, and servants struggling about ; 
 there were those bearded foreign visitors of England, who 
 always seem to decline to shave or wash themselves on the 
 day of a voyage, and, on the eve of quitting our country, 
 appear inclined to carry away as much as possible of its soil 
 on their hands and linen : there were parties already cozily 
 established on deck under the awning ; and steady-going 
 travellers forward, smoking already the pleasant morning 
 cigar, and watching the phenomena of departure. 
 
 The bell rings : they leave off bawling, " Anybody else for 
 the shore ?^' The last grape, and Bell's Life, merchant has 
 scuffled over the plank : the Johns of the departing nobility 
 and gentry line the brink of the quay, and touch their hats : 
 Hutchison touches his hat to me — to me, heaven bless him ! 
 I turn round inexpressibly affected and delighted, and whom 
 do I see but Captain Hicks ! 
 
 " Hallo ! you here," says Hicks, in a tone which seems to 
 mean, " Confound you, you are everywhere/' 
 
 Hicks is one of those young men who seem to be every 
 where a great deal too often.
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE KHINE. 3 
 
 How are tliey always getting leave from their regiments ? 
 If they are not wanted in this country, (as wanted they can- 
 not be, for you see them sprawling over the railing in Rotten 
 Row all day, and shaking their heels at every ball in town) — 
 if they are not wanted in this country, I say, why the deuce 
 are they not sent off to India, or to Demerara, or to Sierra 
 Leone, by Jove ; — the farther the better ; and I should wish 
 a good unwholesome climate to try ^em, and make 'em hardy. 
 Here is this Hicks, then — Captain Launcelot Hicks, if you 
 please, whose life is nothing but breakfast, smoking, riding- 
 school, billiards, mess, polking, billiards, and smoking again, 
 and da capo, pulling down his mustaches, and going to take 
 a tour after the immense labours of the season. 
 
 " How do you do, Captain Hicks?" I say. ''Where are 
 you going?" 
 
 " O, I am going to the Whine," says Hicks ; " everybody 
 goes to the Whine." Tlie Whine, indeed ! I dare say he can 
 no more spell properly, than he can speak. 
 
 " Who is on board — anybody ? " I ask, with the air of a 
 man of fashion. '' To whom does that immense pile of lug- 
 gage belong — under charge of the lady's maid, the courier, 
 and the British footman ? A large white K. is painted on all 
 the boxes." 
 
 ''How the deuce should / know?" says Hicks, looking, 
 
 B 2
 
 4 THE KlCKLEBUllYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 as I fancy, both red and angiy, and strutting off with his 
 great cavalry lurch and swagger ; whilst my friend the Ser- 
 jeant looks at him lost in admiration, and surveys his shining 
 little boots, his chains and breloques, his whiskers and am- 
 brosial mustaches, his gloves, and other dandifications with a 
 pleased wonder — as the ladies of the Sultan's harem surveyed 
 the great Lady from Park Lane who paid them a visit ; or 
 the simple subjects of ISIontczuma looked at one of Cortez's 
 heavv dragoons. 
 
 " That must be a marquis at least," whispers Lankin, who 
 consults me on points of society, and is pleased to have a 
 great opinion of my experience. 
 
 I burst out in a scornful laugh. '' That I " I say ; " he is a 
 captain of dragoons, and his father is an attorney in Bedford 
 Row. The w^hiskers of a rotimer, my good Lankin, grow as 
 long as the beard of a Plantagenet. It do n't require much 
 noble blood to learn the polka. If you were younger, Lankin, 
 we might go for a shilling a-night, and dance every evening 
 at M. Laurent's Casino, and skip about in a little time as 
 well as that fellow. Only we despise the kind of thing, you 
 know — only we're too grave, and too steady." 
 
 " And too fat," w'hispers Lankin, with a laugh. 
 
 " Speak for yourself, you maypole," says I. "If you can't 
 dance yourself, people can dance round you — put a wreath of
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS (JN THE KHINE. 5 
 
 flowers upon your old poll, stick you up in a village green, 
 and so make use of you/^ 
 
 " I shoidd gladly be turned into anything so pleasant/' 
 Lankin answers; " and so, at least, get a chance of seeing a 
 pretty girl now and then. They do n't show in Pump Court, 
 or at the University Club, where I dine. You are a lucky 
 fellow, Titmarsh, and go about in the world — As for me, / 
 never " 
 
 "And the judges' wives, you rogue?" I say. " AVell, no 
 man is satisfied ; and the only reason I have to be angry with 
 the captain yonder is, that, the other night, at Mrs. Perkins's, 
 being in conversation with a charming young creature, who 
 knows all my favourite passages in Tennyson, and takes a 
 most delightful little line of opposition in the Church contro- 
 versy, just as we were in the very closest, dearest, pleasantest 
 part of the talk, comes up young Hotspur yonder, and whisks 
 her away in a polka. What have you and I to do wdtli polkas, 
 Lankin ? He took her down to supper — what have you and 
 I to do with suppers?" 
 
 " Our duty is to leave them alone," said the philosophical 
 Serjeant. "And now about breakfast — shall we have some?"" 
 And as he spoke, a savoury little procession of stewards and 
 stewards' boys, with drab tin dish-covers, passed from the 
 caboose, and descended the stairs to the cabin. The vessel
 
 G THE KICKLEBURYS OX THE RHINE. 
 
 had passed Grecuwicli by this timC; and had worked its way 
 out of the mast-forest which guards the approaches of our city. 
 
 The owners of those innumerable boxes, bags, oil-skins, 
 guitar-cases, whereon the letter K was engraven, appeared to 
 be three ladies, with a slim gentleman of two or three and 
 thu'ty, who was probably the husband of one of them. He 
 had numberless shawls vnidcr his arm and guardianship. 
 He had a strap fall of Murray^s Handbooks and Continental 
 Guides in his keeping ; and a little collection of parasols and 
 umbrellas, bound together, and to be carried in state before 
 the chief of the party, like tlie lictor's fasces before the 
 consul. 
 
 The chief of the party was evidently the stout lady. One 
 parasol being left free, she waved it about, and commanded 
 the luggage and the menials to and fro. " Horace, we will 
 sit there,^^ she exclaimed, pointing to a comfortable place on 
 the deck. Horace went and placed the shawls and the Guide- 
 books. " Hirsch, avy vou conty les bagages ? trout sett 
 morso ong too?^' The German courier said, "Qui, miladi," 
 and bowed a rather sulky assent. " Bowman, you will see 
 that Finch is comfortable, and send her to me." The gigantic 
 Bowman, a gentleman in an undress vtniform, Avith very large 
 and splendid armorial buttons, and with traces of the powder
 
 TIIK KICKLliBUKYS ON THE RHINE. 7 
 
 of the season still lingering in liis hair, bows, and speeds upon 
 my lady's errand. 
 
 I recognise Hirscli, a well-known face upon the European 
 high-road, where he has travelled with many acquaintances. 
 With whom is he making the tour now ? — IMr. Hirsch is 
 acting as courier to Mr. and Mrs. Horace Milliken. They 
 have not been married many months, and they are travelling, 
 Hirsch says, with a contraction of his bushy eyebrows, with 
 miladi, Mrs. Milliken's mamma. " And who is her lady- 
 ship?" Hirsch's brow contracts into deeper furrows. "It 
 is Miladi Gigglebury," he says, " Mr. Didmarsh. Berhabs 
 you know her.'' He scowls round at her, as she calls out 
 loudly, " Hirsch, Hirsch," and obeys that summons. 
 
 It is the great Lady Kicklebury of Pocklington Square, 
 about whom I remember Mrs. Perkins made so much ado at 
 her last ball; and whom old Perkins conducted to supper. 
 When Sir Thomas Kicklebury died (he was one of the first 
 tenants of the square), who does not remember the scutcheon 
 with the coronet with two balls, that flamed over No. 36 ? 
 Her son was at Eton then, and has subsequently taken an 
 honorary degree at Oxford, and been an ornament of Piatt's and 
 the Oswestry Club. He fled into St. James's from the great 
 house in Pocklington Square, and from St. James's to Itah' and
 
 8 niK klCKLKHLTRYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 the Mccliterrauean^ where he has been for some time in a whole- 
 some exile. Her eldest (laughter's marriage with Lord Rough- 
 head Avas talked about last year ; but Ijord Koughhead, it is 
 known, married Miss Brent ; and Horaee Milliken, very much 
 to his surprise, found himself the affianced husband of Miss 
 Lavinia Kicklebury, after an agitating evening at Lady Polki- 
 more's, when Miss Ijavinia feeling herself faint went out on to 
 the leads (the terrace, Lady Polkimore ivill call it), on the arm 
 of Mr. Milliken. They were married in January — it 's not a 
 bad match for Miss K. Lady Kicklebury goes and stops for 
 six months of the year at Pigeoncot with her daughter and 
 son-in-law; and now that they are come abroad, she comes too. 
 She must be with Lavinia, under the present circumstances. 
 
 When I am arm-in-arm, I tell this story glibly ofl' to 
 Lankin, who is astonished at my knowledge of the world, 
 and says, " Why, Titmarsh, you know everything.^' 
 
 " I do know a few things, Lankin, my boy," is my answer. 
 '^A man don't live in society, and pretty good society, let 
 me tell you, for nothing." 
 
 The fact is, that all the above details are known to almost 
 any man in our ncighl)()urhood. Lady Kicklebury does not 
 meet with us much, and has greater folks tlian we can pretend 
 to be at her parties. But we know about them. She'll con- 
 descend to come to Perkins's, with whose firm she banks ; and
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 9 
 
 she may overdraw her account ; but of that, of course, I 
 know nothing. 
 
 When Lankin and I go down stairs to breakfast, we find, 
 if not the best, at least the most conspicuous places in occu- 
 pation of Lady Kicklebury's party, and the hulking London 
 footman making a darkness in the cabin, as he stoops through 
 it bearing cups and plates to his employers. 
 
 [Why do they always put mud into cofl'ee on board 
 steamers ? Why does the tea s-enerallv taste of boiled boots ? 
 Why is the milk scarce and thin ? And why do they have 
 those bleeding legs of boiled mutton for dinner ? I ask why ? 
 In the steamers of other nations you are well fed. Is it 
 impossible that Britannia, who confessedly rules the waves, 
 should attend to the victuals a little, and that meat should be 
 well cooked under a Union Jack ? I just put in this question, 
 this most interesting question, in a momentous parenthesis, 
 and resume the tale.] 
 
 When Lankin and I descend to the cabin, then, the tables 
 are full of gobbling people ; and, though there do seem to be 
 a couple of places near Lady Kicklebury, immediately she 
 sees our eyes directed to the inviting gap, she slides out, and 
 with her ample robe covers even more than that large space
 
 10 THE K1CK.LKBURYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 to which 1)y art and nature she is entitled, and calling out, 
 " Horace, Horace," and nodding, and winking, and pointing, 
 she causes her son-in-law to extend the wing on his side. We 
 are cut of that chance of a breakfast. We shall have the tea 
 at its third water, and those two damp black mutton chops, 
 which nobody else Avill take, Avill fall to our cold share. 
 
 At this minute a voice, clear and sweet, from a tall lady 
 in a black veil, says, " ]\Ir. Titniarsh," and I start and murmur 
 an ejaculation of respectful surprise, as I recognise no less a 
 person than the Right Honourable the Countess of Knights- 
 bridge, taking her tea, breaking up little bits of toast with 
 her slim fingers, and sitting between a Belgian horse-dealer 
 and a German violoncello player, \\\\o has a conge after the 
 opera — like any other mortal. 
 
 I whisper her ladyship's name to Lankin. The scrjeant 
 looks towards her with curiosity and awe. Even he, in his 
 Pump Court solitudes, has heard of that star of fashion — that 
 admired amousrst men, and even women — that Diana severe 
 yet simple, the accomplished Am-elia of Knightsbridge. Her 
 husband has but a small share of her qualities. How should 
 he ? The tui-f and the fox-chase are his delights — the smok- 
 ing room at the Traveller's — nay, shall we say it? — the illumin- 
 ated arcades of Vauxhall, and the gambols of the dishevelled 
 Terpsichore. Knightsbridge has his faults — ah ! even the
 
 THK KICKLF.BUKYS ON THE RHINE. 11 
 
 peerage of England is not exempt from them. With Diana 
 for his wife, he flies the halls where she sits severe and serene, 
 and is to be found (shrouded in smoke, 't is true,) in those 
 caves where the contrite chimney-sweep sings his terrible 
 death-ehaunt, or the Bacchanalian judge administers a satiric 
 law. Lord Knightsbridge has his faults, then ; but he has 
 the gout at Rougetnoirburg, near the Rhine, and thither his 
 wife is hastening to minister to him. 
 
 " I have done," says Lady Knightsbridge, Avith a gentle 
 bow, as she rises ; " you may have this place, Mr. Titmarsh ; 
 and I am sorry my breakfast is over, I should have prolonged 
 it had I thought that you were coming to sit by me. Thank 
 you — my glove j^' (such an absurd little glove, by the way;) 
 " we shall meet on the deck when you have done." 
 
 And she moves away with an august curtsey. I can^t tell 
 how it is, or what it is, in that lady ; but she says, " How do 
 vou do?" as nobodv else knows how to sav it. In all her 
 
 ^/ V V 
 
 actions, motions, thoughts, I would wager there is the same 
 calm grace and harmony. She is not very handsome, 
 being very thin, and rather sad-looking. She is not very 
 witt}'^, being only up to the conversation, whatever it may 
 be ; and yet, if she were in black serge, I think one could not 
 help seeing that she was a Princess, and Serene Highness ; 
 and if she were a hundred vears old, she could not be but
 
 12 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 beautiful. I saw her performing her devotions in Antwerp 
 Cathcch'al^ and forgot to look at anything else there; — so cahn 
 and pure, such a sainted figure hers seemed. 
 
 When this great lady did the present writer the honour 
 to shake his hand (I had the honour to teach writing, and 
 the rudiments of Latin to the young and intelligent Lord 
 Viscount Pimlico), there seemed to be a commotion in the 
 Kicklcbury party — heads were nodded together, and turned 
 towards Lady Knightsbridge ; in whose honour, when Lady 
 Kicklcbury had sufficiently reconnoitred her with her eye- 
 glass, the baronet^s lady rose and swept a reverential curtsey, 
 backing until she fell up against the cushions at the stern of 
 the boat. Lady Knightsbridge did not see this salute, for 
 she did not acknowledge it, but walked away slimly (she 
 seems to glide in and out of a room), and disappeared up the 
 stair to the deck. 
 
 Lankin and I took our places, the horse-dealer making 
 room for us ; and I could not help looking, with a little ail' of 
 triumph, over to the Kicklcbury faction, as much as to say, 
 '' You fine folks, with your large footmen and supercilious 
 airs, see what we can do.^^ 
 
 As I looked — smiling, and nodding, and laughing at me, 
 in a knowing, pretty way, and then leaning to mamma as if
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 13 
 
 in explanation, what face should I see, but that of the young 
 lady at Mrs. Perkins's, with whom I had had that pleasant 
 conversation which had been interrupted by the demand of 
 Captain Hicks for a dance ? So, then, that was Miss Kickle- 
 bury, about whom Miss Perkins, my young friend, has so 
 often spoken to me (the young ladies were in conversation 
 when I had the happiness of joining them; and Miss P. 
 went away presently, to look to her guests) — that is Miss 
 Fanny Kicklebury. 
 
 A sudden pang shot athwart my bosom — Lankin might 
 have perceived it, but the honest serjeant was so awe-stricken 
 by his late interview with the Countess of Knightsbridge, 
 that his mind was unfit to grapple with other subjects — a 
 pang of feeling (which I concealed under the grin and grace- 
 ful bow wherewith Miss Fanny's salutations were acknow- 
 ledged) tore my heart-strings — as I thought of — I need not 
 sav — of Hicks. 
 
 He had danced with her, he had supped with her — he 
 was here, on board the boat. Where was that dragoon ? I 
 looked round for him. In quite a far corner, — but so that he 
 could command the Kicklebury party, I thought — he was 
 eating his breakfast, the great healthy oaf, and consuming 
 one broiled egg after another.
 
 14 Till: KICKLKJJUUYS ON THE UHlNi;. 
 
 In the course of tlic afternoon, all parties, as it may be 
 supposed, emerged upon deck again, and Miss Fanny and 
 her mamma began walking the quarterdeck with a quick 
 pace, like a couple of post-captains. When Miss Fanny saw 
 me, she stopped and smiled, and recognised the gentleman 
 who had amused her so at Mrs. Perkins's. What a dear sweet 
 ci'eature Eliza Perkins was ! They had been at school 
 together. She was going to write to Eliza everytliing that 
 happened in the voyage. 
 
 " Everything ? " I said, in my particularly sarcastic maimer. 
 . " Well, everything that was worth telling. There Avas a 
 great number of things that were very stupid, and of people 
 that were very stupid. Everything that you say, Mr. Tit- 
 marsh, I am sure I may put down. You have seen Mr. 
 Titmarsh's funny books, mamma ? " 
 
 Mamma said, she had heard — she had no doubt they 
 were very amusing. " Was not that — ahem — Lady Knights- 
 bridge, to whom I saw you speaking, sir ? " 
 
 " Yes ; she is going to nurse Lord Knightsbridge, who has 
 the gout at Eougctnoirbourg.'' 
 
 " Indeed ! how very fortunate ! what an extraordinary 
 coincidence ! We are going too,'' said Lady Kicklebury. 
 
 I remarked, " that everybody was going to llougetnoir- 
 bourg this year; and I heard of two gentlemen — Count
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE IIUINE. 15 
 
 Carambole and Colonel Cannon — who liad been obliged to 
 sleep there on a billiard table for want of a bed/^ 
 
 " My son Kicklebnry — are you acquainted with Sir Thomas 
 Kicklebury ? " her ladyship said, with great stateliness — 
 " is at Noirboui'g, and will take lodgings for us. The springs 
 are particularly recommended for my daughter, Mrs. Milli- 
 ken ; and, at great personal sacrifice, I am going thither 
 myself : but Avhat will not a mother do, Mr. Titmarsh ? Did 
 I understand you to say that you have the — the entree at 
 Knightsbridge House ? The parties are not what they used 
 to be, I am told. Not that I have any knowledge. / am but 
 a poor country baronet's widow, Mr. Titmarsh ; though the 
 Kickleburys date from Henry III., and my family is not of 
 the most modern in the country. You have heard of General 
 Guff, my father, perhaps ? Aide-de-camp to the Duke of 
 York, and wounded by his Royal Highness's side, at the bom- 
 bardment of Valenciennes. We move in our own sphere.^' 
 
 " Mrs. Perkins is a very kind creature," I said, " and it was 
 a very pleasant ball. Did you not think so. Miss Kicklebury V 
 
 " I thought it odious," said Miss Fanny. " I mean, it was 
 pleasant until that — that stupid man — what was his name ? 
 came and took me away to dance with him." 
 
 "What, don't you care for a red coat and mustaches?" 
 I asked.
 
 10 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 " I adore genius, Mr. Titmarsli/' said the young lady, 
 with a most killing look of her beautiful blue eyes, '^ and I 
 have every one of your works by heart — all, exeept the last, 
 vrhich I can't endure. I think it 's wieked, positively wicked 
 — My darling Scott ! — How can you? And are you going to 
 make a Christmas-book this year?" 
 
 '' Sliall I tell you about it ? " 
 
 " O, do tell us about it," said the lively, charming crea- 
 ture, clapping her hands : and we began to talk, being near 
 Lavinia (Mrs. Milliken) and her husband, who was ceaselessly 
 occupied in fetching and carrying books, biscuits, pillows and 
 cloaks, scent bottles, the Italian greyhound, and the thousand 
 and one necessities of the pale and interesting bride. O, how 
 she did fidget ! how she did grumble ! how she altered and 
 twisted her position ! and how she did make poor Milliken 
 trot ! 
 
 After Miss Fanny and I had talked, and I had told her my 
 plan, which she pronounced to be delightful, she continued : 
 " I never was so provoked in my life, JNIr. Titmarsh, as when 
 that odious man came and interrupted that dear delightful 
 conversation." 
 
 " On your word ? The odious man is on board the boat : 
 I see him smoking just by the funnel yonder, look ! and 
 looking at us."
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE IIHINE. 17 
 
 " He is very stupid/' said Fanny ; '' and all that I adore 
 is intellect, dear Mr. Titmarsh." 
 
 '^ But why is he on board ? " said I, with a fin sourire. 
 
 " Why is he on board ? Why is everybody on board ? 
 How do we meet ? (and, oh, how glad I am to meet you 
 again !) You don't suppose that / know how the horrid man 
 came here ? " 
 
 " Eh ! he may be fascinated by a pair of blue eyes, Miss 
 Fanny ! Others have been so," I said. 
 
 " Do n't be cruel to a poor girl, you wicked, satirical 
 creature," she said j " I think Captain Hicks odious — there ! 
 and I Avas quite angry when I saw him on the boat. Mamma 
 does not know him, and she was so angry with me for dancing 
 with him that night : though there was nobody of any par- 
 ticular mark at poor dear Mrs. Perkins's — that is, except you, 
 Mr. Titmarsh." 
 
 '' And I am not a dancing man," I said, with a sigh. 
 
 " I hate dancing men ; they can do nothing but dance." 
 
 « 
 " O yes they can. Some of them can smoke, and some 
 
 can ride, and some can even spell very well." 
 
 '' You wicked, satirical person. I 'm quite afi'aid of you ! " 
 " And some of them call the Rhine the 'Whine,'" I said, giv- 
 ing an admirable imitation of poor Hicks's drawling manner. 
 Fanny looked hard at me with a peculiar expression on
 
 18 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 her face. At last she laughed. ^'O, you wicked, wicked 
 man/' she said, "what a capital mimic you are, and so full of 
 cleverness ! Do l)ring up Captain Hicks — is n't that his name ? 
 — and trot him out for us. Bring him up, and introduce him 
 to mamma : do now, go ! " 
 
 Mamma, in the meanAvhile, had waited her time, and was 
 just going to step dovnx the cabin stairs as Lady Knightsbridge 
 ascended from them. To draw back, to make a most pro- 
 found curtsey, to exclaim, " Lady Knightsbridge ! I have had 
 the honour of seeing your ladyship at — hum — hum — hum 
 (this word I could not catch) House," — all these feats were 
 performed by Lady Kicklcbury in one instant, and acknow- 
 ledged with the usual calmness by the younger lady. 
 
 '' And may I hope," continues Lady Kicklebury, " that 
 that most beautiful of all children — a mother may say so — 
 that Lord Pimlico has recovered his hooping-cough ? We were 
 so anxious about him. Our medical attendant is Mr. Top- 
 ham, and he used to come from Knightsbridge House to 
 Pocklington Square, often and often. I am interested about 
 the hooping-cough. My own dear boy had it most severely ; 
 that dear girl, my eldest daughter, whom you see stretched on 
 the bench — she is in a very delicate state, and only lately 
 married — not such a match as I could have wished : but Mr.
 
 MY LADY, THE COUNTESS.
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE, 19 
 
 Milliken is of a good family, distantly related to your ladyship's. 
 A Milliken, in George the Third's reign, married a Boltimore, 
 and tlie Boltiniores, I think, are your first eousins — they 
 married this year, and Lavinia is so fond of me, that she can't 
 part with me, and I have come abroad just to please her. 
 We are going to Noirhourg. I think I heard from my son, 
 that Lord Knightsbridge was at Noirbourg." 
 
 '' I believe I have had the pleasure of seeing Sir Thomas 
 Kicklebury at Knightsbridge House," Lady Knightsbridge 
 said, with something of sadness. 
 
 " Indeed ! and Kicklebury had never told her ! He laughed 
 at her when she talked about great people. He told her all 
 sorts of ridiculous stories when upon this theme ;" but, at any 
 rate, the acquaintance was made — Lady Kicklebury Avould 
 not leave Lady Knightsbridge; and, even in the throes of 
 sea-sickness, and the secret recesses of the cabin, would talk 
 to her about the world. Lord Pimlico, and her father. General 
 Guff, late aide-de-camp to the Duke of York. 
 
 That those throes of sickness ensued, I need not say. A 
 
 short time after passing Ramsgate, Serjeant Lankin, who had 
 
 been exceedingly gay and satirical — (in his calm way ; he 
 
 quotes Horace, my favourite bits as an author, to myself, and 
 
 has a quiet snigger, and, so to speak, amontillado flavour, 
 
 c 2
 
 20 THE KICKLEllURYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 exceedingly pleasant) — Lankin, with a rueful and livid coun- 
 tenance, descended into his berth, in the which that six foot 
 of Serjeant packed himself, I don^t know how. 
 
 When Lady Knightsbridge went down, down went Kickle- 
 bur3\ INIilliken and his wife stayed, and were ill together on 
 deck. A palm of glory ought to be awarded to that man 
 for his angelic patience, energy, and suffering. It was he 
 who went for Mrs. Millikcn^s maid, who would n't come to her 
 mistress ; it was he, the sh}'est of men, who stormed the 
 ladies' cabin — that maritime harem — in order to get her 
 mother's bottle of salts ; it was he who went for the brandy 
 and water, and begged, and prayed, and besouglit his adored 
 Lavinia to taste a leetle drop. Lavinia's reply was, " Do n't 
 — go away — do n't tease, Horace," and so forth. And, when 
 not wanted, the gentle creature subsided on the bench, by his 
 wife's feet, and was sick in silence. 
 
 [Mem. — In married life, it seems to me, that it is almost 
 always Milliken and wife, or just the contrary. The angels 
 minister to the tyrants ; or the gentle, hen-pecked husband 
 cowers before the superior partlet. If ever I marry, I know 
 the sort of woman I will choose ; and I won't try her temper 
 by over-indulgence, and destroy her fine qualities by a ruin- 
 ous subserviency to her wishes.] 
 
 Little Miss Fanny stayed on deck, as well as her sister,
 
 I 
 
 MORE WIXD THAN IS PLEASANT,
 
 THE KICRLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 21 
 
 and looked at the stars of heaven, as they began to shine 
 there, and at the Foreland lights as we passed them. I would 
 have talked with her; I Avonld have suggested images of 
 poesy, and thoughts of beauty ; I would have whispered the 
 word of sentiment — the delicate allusion — the breathing of 
 the soul that longs to find a congenial heart — the sorrows and 
 aspirations of the Avounded spirit, stricken and sad, yet not 
 quite despairing ; still knowing that the hope-plant lurked in 
 its crushed ruins — still able to gaze on the stars and the 
 ocean, and love their blazing sheen, their boundless azure. 
 I would, I say, have taken the opportunity of that stilly night 
 to lay bare to her the treasures of a heart that, I am happy to 
 say, is young still : but circumstances forbade the fi'ank out- 
 pouring of my poet soul ; in a word, I was obliged to go and 
 lie down on the flat of my back, and endeavour to control 
 other emotions which struggled in my breast. 
 
 Once, in the night watches, I arose, and came on deck; 
 the vessel was not, methought, pitching much; and yet — 
 and yet Neptune was inexorable. The placid stars looked 
 down, but they gave me no peace. Lavinia Milliken seemed 
 asleep, and her Horace, in a death-like torpor, was huddled 
 at her feet. Miss Fanny had quitted the larboard side of 
 the ship, and had gone to starboard ; and I thought that 
 there was a gentleman beside her ; but I could not see very
 
 22 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 clearly, and returned to the horrid crib, where Lankin was 
 asleep, and the German fiddler vmderneath him was snoring 
 like his own violoncello. 
 
 In the morning we were all as brisk as bees. We were in 
 the smooth waters of the lazy Scheldt. The stewards began 
 
 preparing breakfast with that matutinal eagerness which they 
 always show. The sleepers in the cabin were roused from 
 their horse-hair couches by the stewards^ boys nudging, 
 and pushing, and flapping table-cloths over them. I shaved 
 and made a neat toilette, and came upon deck just as we lay 
 off that little Dutch fort, which is, I dare say, described in 
 Mui'ray's Guide-book, and about which I had some rare 
 banter with poor Hicks and Lady Kicklebury, whose sense of 
 humour is certainly not very keen. He had, somehow, joined 
 her ladyship^s party, and they were looking at the fort, and its 
 tricoloured flag — that floats familiar in Vandevelde's pictures 
 — and at the lazy shipping, and the tall roofs, and dumpy 
 church towers, and flat pastures, lying before us in a Cuyp- 
 like haze. 
 
 I am sorry to say, I told them the most awful fibs about 
 that fort. How it had been defended by the Dutch patriot 
 Van Swammerdam, against the united forces of the Duke of 
 Alva and Marshal Turenne ; whose leg was shot off as he was 
 leading the last unsuccessful assault, and who turned round
 
 t 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE lUJINE. 23 
 
 to his aide-de-camp, and said, " Allez dire au Premier Consul, 
 que je meurs avec regret de ne pas avoir assez fait pour la 
 France ? " which gave Lady Kicklebury an opportunity to 
 placer her story of the Duke of York, and the bombardment 
 of Valenciennes; and caused young Hicks to look at me 
 in a puzzled and appealing manner, and hint that I was 
 " chaffing ! '' 
 
 " Chaffing, indeed ! " says I, with a particularly arch eye- 
 twinkle at Miss Fanny, " I would n^t make fun of yon, 
 Captain Hicks ! If you doubt my historical accuracy, look 
 at the ' Biographic Universelle,^ I say — look at the ' Biogra- 
 phie Universelle.' " 
 
 He said, " O — ah — the ' Biogwaphie Universelle ' may be 
 all vewy well, and that ; but I never can make out Avhether 
 you are joking or not, somehow ; and I always fancy you are 
 going to caivickachaiv me. Ha ha." And he laughed, the 
 good-natured dragoon laughed, and fancied he had made a 
 joke. 
 
 I entreated him not to be so severe upon me ; and again 
 he said, '^ Haw haw,^' and told me, " I must n^t expect to have 
 it all my own way, and, if I gave a hit, I must expect a Punch 
 in return. Haw haw." O you honest young Hicks ! 
 
 Everybody, indeed, was in high spirits. The fog cleared 
 off, the sun shone, the ladies chatted and laughed, even Mrs.
 
 24 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 INIilliken was in good humour C^^My wife is all intellect/' 
 Milliken says^ looking at her with admiration), and talked 
 Avith us freely and gaily. She was kind enough to say that 
 it was a great pleasure to meet with a literary and well- 
 informed person — that one often lived with people that did 
 not comprehend one. She asked if my companion, that tall 
 gentleman — Mr. Serjeant Lankin^ was he? — was literary. 
 And when I said that Lankin knew more Grcek^ and more 
 Latin, and more law, and more history, and more everything, 
 than all the passengers put together, she vouchsafed to look 
 at him with interest, and enter into a conversation with my 
 modest friend the serjeant. Then it was that her adoring 
 husband said, " his Lavinia was all intellect ; " and Lady 
 Kicklebury saying that " she was not a literary woman : that, 
 in Iter day, few acquirements were requisite for the British 
 female ; but that she knew the spirit of the age, and her duty 
 as a mothei', and that Lavinia and Fanny had had the best 
 masters, and the best education which money and constant 
 maternal solicitude could impart. ^^ If our matrons are 
 virtuous, as they are, and it is Britain^s boast, permit me to 
 say, that they certainly know it. 
 
 The conversation growing powerfully intellectual under 
 Mrs. Milliken, poor Hicks naturally became vmeasy, and put 
 an end to literature by admiring the ladies^ head-dresses —
 
 ME CALL THOSE UGLIES! CAPTAIN HICKS.'
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 25 
 
 " Cab-heads, hoods, what do voii call 'em ? " lie asked of 
 Miss Kicklebury. Indeed, she and her sister wore a couple of 
 those blue silk over-bonnets, which have latclv become the 
 fashion, and which I never should have mentioned, but for 
 the young lady's reply. 
 
 " Those hoods ! " she said ; " we cull those hoods Uylies ! 
 Captain Hicks." 
 
 O, hoAv pretty she looked, as she said it ! The blue eyes 
 looked up under the blue hood, so archly and gayly ; ever so 
 many dimples began playing about her face ; her little voice 
 rang so fresh and sweet, that a heart which has never loved 
 a tree or flower, but the vegetable in question, was sure to 
 perish — a heart worn down and sickened by repeated dis- 
 appointment, mockery, faithlessness — a heart Avhereof despair 
 is an accustomed tenant, and in whose desolate and lonelv 
 depths dwells an abiding gloom, began to throb once more — 
 began to beckon Hope from the window — began to admit 
 sunshine — began to — O, Folly, Folly ! O, Fanny ! O, 
 Miss K., how lovely you looked as you said, " we call those 
 hoods Uglies." Ugly, indeed ! 
 
 This is a chronicle of feelings and characters, not of events 
 and places, so much. All this time our vessel was making 
 rapid way up the river, and we saw before us the slim towers
 
 26 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 of the noble cathedral of Antwerp soaring in the rosy sun- 
 shine. Lankin and I had agreed to go to tlie Grand 
 Laboureur, on the Place de Meir. They give you a particular 
 kind of jam tarts there — caDed Nun's tarts^ 1 think — that I 
 remember^ these twenty years^ as the very best tarts — as good 
 as the tarts which we ate when we were boys. The Laboureur 
 is a dear old quiet comfortable hotel ; and there is no man 
 in England who likes a good dinner better than Lankin. 
 
 " What hotel do you go to ? ^' I asked of Lady Kicklebury. 
 
 " We go to the Saint Antoine, of course. Everybody 
 goes to the Saint Antoine/' her ladyship said. " We propose 
 to rest here ; to do the K-ubens's ; and to proceed to Cologne 
 to-morrow. Horace, call Finch and Bow^man; and your 
 courier, if he w ill have the condescension to wait upon me, 
 will perhaps look to the baggage.'' 
 
 '' I think, Lankin/' said I, ''as everybody seems going to 
 the Saint Antoine, we may as well go, and not spoil the 
 party.'" 
 
 " I think I '11 go, too," says Hicks ; as if he belonged 
 to the party. 
 
 And, oh, it was a great sight when we landed, and at every 
 place at which we paused afterwards, to see Hirsch over the 
 Kicklebury baggage, and hear his polyglot maledictions at 
 the porters ! If a man sometimes feels sad and lonely at his
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 27 
 
 bachelor condition, if some feelings of envy pervade his heart, 
 at seeing beauty on another's arm, and kind eyes directed 
 towards a happier mug than his own — at least there are some 
 consolations in travelling, when a fellow has but one little 
 portmanteau or bag which he can easily shoulder, and thinks 
 of the innumerable bags and trunks which the married man 
 and the father drags after him. The married Briton on a 
 tour is but a luggage overseer ; his luggage is his morning 
 thought, and his nightly terror. When he floats along the 
 Rhine he has one eye on a ruin, and the other on his luggage. 
 When he is in the railroad he is always thinking, or ordered 
 by his wife to think, " Is the luggage safe ? " It clings round 
 him. It never leaves him, (except when it does leave him, as 
 a trunk or two will, and make him doubly miserable) . His 
 carpet bags lie on his chest at night, and his wife's forgotten 
 bandbox haunts his turbid dreams. 
 
 I think it was after she found that Lady Kicklebuiy 
 proposed to go to the Grand Saint Antoine, that Lady 
 Knightsbridge put herself with her maid into a carriage, and 
 went to the other inn. We saw her at the cathedral, where 
 she kept aloof from our party. Milliken went up the tower, 
 and so did Miss Fanny. I am too old a traveller to mount 
 up those immeasui'able stairs, for the purpose of making 
 myself dizzy by gazing upon a vast map of low countries
 
 28 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 stretched bcncatli me^ and waited with Mrs. Milliken and her 
 mother below. 
 
 When the tower-elimbcrs descended, we asked Miss Fanny 
 and her brother what they had seen. 
 
 "We saw Captain Hicks up there/' remarked Milliken. 
 "And I am very glad you didn't come, Lavinia, my love. 
 The excitement would have been too much for you, quite 
 too much." 
 
 All this while Lady Kicklebury was looking at Fanny, and 
 Fanny was holding her eyes down ; and I knew that between 
 her and this poor Hicks there could be nothing serious, for 
 she had laughed at him and mimicked him to me half-a-dozen 
 times in the course of the day. 
 
 We " do the Rubens's," as Lady Kicklebury says ; we 
 trudge from cathedral to picture-gallery, from church to 
 church. We see the calm old city, with its towers and gables, 
 the bourse, and the vast town-hall ; and I have the honour to 
 give Lady Kicklebury my arm during these peregrinations, 
 and to hear a hundred particulars regarding her ladyship's 
 life and family. How INIilliken has been recently building 
 at Pigeoncot; how he will have two thousand a year more 
 when his uncle dies ; how she had peremptorily to put a stop 
 to the assiduities of that unprincipled young man, Lord 
 Roughhead, whom Lavinia always detested, and who married
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 29 
 
 Miss Brent out of sheer pique. It was a great escape for her 
 darling Lavinia. Roughhcacl is a most wild and dissipated 
 young man^ one of Kicklcbury's Christchurch friends^ of whom 
 her son has too many ; alas ! and she enters into many par- 
 ticulars respecting the conduct of Kicklebury — the unhappy 
 boy^s smoking, his love of billiards, his fondness for the turf: 
 she fears he has already injured his income, she fears he is 
 even now playing at Noirbourg ; she is going thither to wean 
 him, if possible, from his companions and his gaieties — what 
 may not a mother effect ? She only wrote to him the day 
 before they left London to announce that she was marching 
 on him with her family. He is in many respects like his 
 poor father — the same openness and frankness, the same easy 
 disposition : alas 1 the same love of pleasure. But she had 
 reformed the father, and will do her utmost to call back her 
 dear misguided boy. She had an advantageous match for 
 him in view — a lady not beautiful in person, it is true, but 
 possessed of every good principle, and a very, very handsome 
 fortune. It was under pretence of flying from this lady that 
 Kicklebury left town. But she knew better. 
 
 I say young men will be young men, and sow their wild 
 oats ; and think to myself that the invasion of his mamma 
 will be perhaps more surprising than pleasant to young Sir 
 Thomas Kicklebury, and that she possibly talks about herself
 
 30 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE, 
 
 and her family^ and her virtues^ and her daughters a little too 
 much : but she will make a eonfidant of me, and all the time 
 we are doing the Rubens's she is talking of the pictures at 
 KickleburVj of her portrait by Lawrence, pronounced to be 
 his finest work, of Lavinia^s talent for drawing, and the 
 expense of Faimy's music-masters; of her house in town, 
 (where she hopes to see me) ; of her parties which Avere 
 stopped by the illness of her butler. She talks Kicklebury 
 until I am sick. And O, Miss Fanny, all of this I endure, 
 like an old fool, for an occasional sight of your bright eyes 
 and rosy face ! 
 
 [Another parenthesis. " We hope to see you in town, 
 Mr. Titmarsh.^^ Foolish mockery ! If all the people Avhom 
 one has met abroad, and who have said, " We hope to meet 
 YOU often in town," had but made any the sli«;htest efforts 
 to realize their hopes by sending a simple line of invitation 
 through the penny post, what an enormous dinner acquaint- 
 ance one would have had ! But I mistrust people who say, 
 " We hope to see you in town."] 
 
 Lankin comes in at the end of the day, just before dinner- 
 time. He has paced the whole town by himself — church, 
 tower, and fortifications, and Rubens, and all. He is full of
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 31 
 
 Egmont and Alva. He is up to all the history of the siege, 
 when Chassee defended, and the French attacked, the place. 
 After dinner we stroll along the quays ; and, over the quiet 
 cigar in the hotel court, Monsieur Lankin discourses about 
 the Rubens pictures, in a way which shows that the learned 
 Serjeant has an eye for pictorial beauty, as well as other 
 beauties in this world, and can rightly admire the vast energy, 
 the prodigal genius, the royal splendour of the King of 
 Antwerp. In the most modest way in the world he has 
 remarked a student making clever sketches at the jMuseum, 
 and has ordered a couple of copies from him of the famous 
 Vandyke, and the wondrous adoration of the Magi, " a greater 
 picture,'^ says he, " than even the cathedral picture ; in which 
 opinion those may agree who like." He says he thinks Miss 
 Kicklebury is a pretty little thing; that all my swans are geese; 
 and that as for that old woman, with her airs and graces, she 
 is the most intolerable old nuisance in the world. There is 
 much good judgment, but there* is too much sardonic humour 
 about Lankin. He cannot appreciate women properly. He 
 is spoiled by being an old bachelor, and li^dng in that dingy 
 old Pump Com't ; where, by the way, he has a cellar fit 
 for a Pontiff. We go to rest; they have given us humble 
 lodgings high up in the building, which we accept like phi- 
 losophers who travel with but a portmanteau a-piece. The
 
 32 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 Kickleburys have tlie grand suite, as becomes their dignity. 
 Which, which of those twinkling lights illumines the chamber 
 of Miss Fanny ? 
 
 Hicks is sitting in the court too, smoking his cigar. He 
 and Lankin met in the fortifications. Lankin says he is a 
 sensible felloAV, and seems to know his profession. "Every 
 man can talk well about something,^^ the serjeant says. " And 
 one man can about everjthing," says I ; at which Lankin 
 blushes; and we take our flaring talloAV candles, and go to 
 bed. He has us up an hour before the starting time, and 
 Ave have that period to admire Herr Oberkellner, who swaggers 
 as becomes the Oberkellner of a house frequented by ambas- 
 sadors ; who contradicts us to our faces, and whose own 
 countenance is ornamented with yesterday's beard, of which, 
 or of any part of his clothing, the graceful youth does not 
 appear to have divested himself since last we left him. We 
 recognise, somewhat dingy and faded, the elaborate shirt 
 front which appeared at yesterday's banquet. Farewell, Herr 
 Oberkellner, may we never see your handsome countenance, 
 washed or unwashed, shaven or unshorn, again ! 
 
 Here come the ladies — " Good morning. Miss Fanny." '' I 
 hope you slept well, Lady Kieklebury ? " ^' A tremendous bill? " 
 " No wonder ; how can you expect otherwise, when you have 
 such a bad dinner ? " Hearken to Hirsch's comminations
 
 HIRSCn AND THE LUGGAGE
 
 THE KICKLEBL'RYS ON THE UIIINE. 33 
 
 over the luggage ! Look at the honest Belgiuu soldiers, luul 
 that fat Freyschiitz on guard, his rifle in one hand, and tlie 
 other hand in his pocket. Captain Hieks bursts into a laugh 
 at the sight of the fat Freyschiitz, and says, " By Jove, 
 Titmarsh, vou must eawickachaw him." And we take our 
 seats at length and at leisure, and the railway trumpets blow, 
 and (save for a brief halt) we never stop till night, trumi)cting 
 by green flats and pastures, by broad canals and old towns, 
 through Liege and Verviers, through Aix and Cologne, till we 
 are landed at Bonn at nightfall. 
 
 We all have supper, or tea — we have become pretty inti- 
 mate — we look at the strangers' book, as a matter of course, 
 in the great room of the Star Hotel. Why, everybody is on 
 the Rhine ! Here are the names of half one's acquaintance. 
 
 " I see Lord and Lady Exborough are gone on," says Lady 
 Kieklebury, whose eye fastens naturally on her kindred 
 aristocracy. " Lord and Lady Wyebridge and suite, Lady 
 Zedland and her family." 
 
 " Hallo ! here 's Cutler of the Onety-oneth, and MacMull 
 of the greens, en route to Noirbourg," says Hicks, confi- 
 dentially. " Know MacMull ? Devilish good fellow — such 
 a fellow to smoke." 
 
 Laukin, too, reads and grins. ''Why, are they going the 
 Rhenish circuit ? " he says, and reads : — 
 
 D
 
 34 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 Sir Thomas MiiioSj Lady Minos, nebst Begleitung aus 
 England. 
 
 Sir John ^acus, mit familie und Diencrschaft, aus England. 
 
 Sir Roger Rhadamanthus. 
 
 Thomas Smith, serjeant. 
 
 Serjeant Brown, and Mrs. Brown, aus England. 
 
 Serjeant Tomkins, Anglais. Madame Tomkins, Mesde- 
 moiselles Tomkins. 
 
 Monsieur Kewsy, Conseiller de S. M. la Reine d'Angle- 
 terre. Mrs. Kewsy, three Miss Kewsys. 
 
 And to this list, Lankin, laughing, had put down his own 
 name, and that of the reader's obedient servant, under the 
 august autograph of Lady Kicklebury, who signed for herself, 
 her son-in-law, and her suite. 
 
 Yes, we all flock the one after the other, we faithful 
 English folks. We can buy Harvey Sauce, and Cayenne 
 Pepper, and Morison's Pills, in every city in the world. We 
 carry our nation everywhere with us ; and are in oui* island, 
 wherever we go. Toto divisos orbe — always separated from 
 the people in the midst of whom we are. 
 
 When we came to the steamer next morning, " the castled 
 crag of Drachenfels " rose up in the sunrise before, and looked 
 as pink as the cheeks of Master Jacky, when they have been
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 35 
 
 just washed in the morning. How that rosy light, too, did 
 become Miss Fanny's pretty dimples, to be sure ! How good 
 a cigar is at the early dawn ! I maintain that it has a flavour 
 which it does not possess at later hours, and that it partakes of 
 the freslmessof all Nature. Andwine,too; wine is never so good 
 as at breakfast — only one can't drink it, for tipsiness's sake. 
 
 See ! there is a young fellow drinking soda-water and 
 brandy already. He puts down his glass with a gasp of 
 satisfaction. It is evident that he had need of that fortifier 
 and refresher. He puts down the beaker, and says, '^ How 
 are you, Titmarsh ? I was so cut last night. My eyes : 
 was n't I ! Not in the least : that ^s all." 
 
 It is the youthful descendant and heir of an ancient line : 
 the noble Earl of Grimsby's son, Viscount Talboys. He is 
 travelling with the Rev. Baring Leader, his tutor ; who, 
 having a great natural turn and liking towards the aristocracy, 
 and having inspected Lady Kicklebury^s cards on her trunks, 
 has introduced himself to her ladyship already, and his in- 
 quired after Sir Thomas Kicklebmy, whom he remembers 
 perfectly, and whom he had often the happiness of meeting 
 when Sir Thomas was an undergraduate at Oxford. There 
 are few characters more amiable, and delightful to watch 
 and contemplate, than some of those middle-aged Oxford 
 
 bucks who hang about the university and live with the 
 
 n 2
 
 36 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINK. 
 
 young tufts. Leader can talk racing and boating with the 
 fastest young Christchurch gentleman. Leader occasionally 
 rides to cover with Lord Talboys ; is a good shot, and seldom 
 walks out without a setter or a spaniel at his heels. Leader 
 knows the peerage and the racing calendar as well as the Oxford 
 cram books. Leader comes up to town, and dines with Lord 
 Grimsby. Leader goes to Court every two years. He is the 
 greatest swell in his common-room. He drinks claret, and 
 canH stand port wine any longer ; and the old fellows of his 
 college admire him, and pet him, and get all their knowledge 
 of the world and the aristocracy from him. I admire those 
 kind old dons, when they appear affable and jaunty, men of 
 the world, members of the Camford and Oxbridge Clulj, upon 
 the London pavement. I like to see them over the Morning 
 Post in the common-room; with a "Ha, I see. Lady Rackstraw 
 has another daughter.^' — "Poppleton there has been at another 
 
 party at X House, and you weren't asked, my boy.'' — 
 
 " Lord Coverdale has got a large party staying at Coverdale . Did 
 you know him at Christchurch ? He was a very handsome 
 man before he broke his nose, fighting the bargeman at Iffly ; 
 a light weight, but a beautiful sparrcr," &c. Let me add, 
 that Leader, although he does love a tuft, has a kind heart : 
 as his mother and sisters in Yorkshire know ; as all the vil- 
 lage knows too — which is proud of his position in the great
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 37 
 
 world, and welcomes liim very kindly when he comes down 
 and takes the duty at Christmas, and preaches to them one or 
 two of " the very sermons which Lord Grimsby was good 
 enough to like, when I delivered them at Talboys." 
 
 " You are not acquainted with Lord Talboys ? " Leader 
 asks, Avitli a degaye air, " I shall have much pleasure in intro- 
 ducing you to liim. Talboys, let me introduce you to Lady 
 Kicklebury. Sir Thomas Kicklebury was not at Christchurch 
 in vour time ; but you have heard of him, I dare say. Your 
 son has left a reputation at Oxford.^^ 
 
 '' I should think I have, too. He walked a hundred miles 
 in a hundred hours. They said he bet that he'd drink a 
 hundred pints of beer in a hundred hours : but I don't thhik 
 he could do it — not strong beer ; don't think any man could. 
 The beer here is n't worth a — " 
 
 "My dear Talboys," says Leader, with a winning smile, 
 " I suppose lady Kicklebury is not a judge of beer — and what 
 an unromantic subject of conversation here, under the castled 
 crag immortalized by Byi'on." 
 
 "What the deuce does it mean about peasant gii'ls with 
 dark blue eyes, and hands that offer corn and wine," asks 
 Talboys; "I've never seen any peasant gii'ls, except the — 
 ugly set of women I ever looked at." 
 
 "The poet's licence. I see, Milliken, you are making a
 
 38 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 cliarmiug sketch. You used to draw when you were at 
 Brazennose, Milliken; and play — yes, you played the vio- 
 loncello." 
 
 Mr. INIilliken still possessed these accomplishments. He 
 was taken up that very evening by a soldier at Col)lcntz_, for 
 making a sketch of Ehrenbrcitstein. Mrs. Milliken sketches 
 immensely too, and writes poetry : such dreary pictures^ such 
 dreary poems ! but professional people are proverbially jealous; 
 and I doubt whether our fellow passenger, the German, would 
 even allow that Milliken could play the violoncello. 
 
 Lady Kicklebury gives Miss Fanny a nudge when Lord 
 Talboys appears, and orders her to exert all her fascinations. 
 How the old lady coaxes, and she wheedles ! She pours out the 
 Talboys pedigree upon him ; and asks after his aunt, and his 
 mother^s family. Is he going to Noii'bourg ? How delightful ! 
 There is nothing like British spirit; and to see an English 
 matron well set upon a young man of large fortune and high 
 rank, is a great and curious sight. 
 
 And yet, somehow, the British doggedness does not always 
 answer. ''^Do you know that old woman in the drab jacket, 
 Titmarsh ?" my hereditary legislator asks of me. " What the 
 devil is she bothering me for, about my aunts, and setting her 
 daughter at me ? I aint such a fool as that. I aint clever, 
 Titmarsh ; I never said I was. I never pretend to be clever,
 
 \
 
 — rr 
 
 'i|,'Nl|||iiil'|'i 
 
 mm 
 
 AN HEREDITARY LEGISLATOR.
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 39 
 
 and that — but why docs tliat okl fool hotlicr me, hay? 
 Heigho ! I 'm. devilish thirsty. I was devilish cut last night. 
 I think I must have another go off. Hallo you ! Kellncr ! 
 Garsong ; Ody soda, Oter petty vare do dyvee de Conac. 
 That 's your sort ; is n't it, Leader ? " 
 
 " You will speak French well enough, if you practise/' says 
 Leader with a tender voice ; " practice is everything. Shall 
 we dine at the table d'hote ? Waiter ! put down the name 
 of Viscount Talboys and Mr. Leader, if you please." 
 
 The boat is full of all sorts and conditions of men. 
 For'ard, there are peasants and soldiers : stumpy, placid-look- 
 ing little warriors, for the most part, smoking feeble cigars 
 and looking quite harmless under their enormous helmets. 
 A poor, stunted, dull-looking boy of sixteen, staggering 
 before a black-striped sentry-box, with an enormous musket 
 on his shoulder, does not seem to me a martial or awe- 
 inspiring object. Has it not been said that we carry our 
 prejudices everywhere, and only admire what we are accus- 
 tomed to admire in our own country ? 
 
 Yonder walks a handsome young soldier who has just 
 been marrying a wife. How happy they seem ! and how 
 pleased that every body should remark their happiness. It 
 is a fact that in the full sunshine, and before a couple of 
 himdred people on board the Joseph Miller steamer, the
 
 40 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 soldier absolutely kissed jNIrs. Soldier; at which the sweet 
 Fanny Kicklebury was made to blush. 
 
 We were standing together looking at the various groups^ 
 the pretty peasant woman (really pretty for once) , with the 
 red head-dress and fluttering ribbons, and the child in her 
 arms; the jolly fat old gentleman (who little thought he 
 would ever be a frontispiece in this life), and who was 
 drinking Rhine wine before noon, and turning his back upon 
 all the castles, towers, and ruins, which reflected their 
 crumbling peaks in the water; upon the handsome young 
 students who came with us from Bonn, with their national 
 colom's in their caps, with their picturesque looks, their 
 yellow ringlets, their budding mustaches, and with cuts upon 
 almost every one of their noses, obtained in duels at the 
 university : most picturesque are these young fellows, indeed 
 — but, ah, why need they have such black hands ? 
 
 Near us is a type, too ; a man who adorns his own tale, and 
 points his own moral. " Yonder, in his carriage, sits the Count 
 de Reineck, who wonH travel without that dismal old chariot, 
 though it is shabby, costly, and clumsy, and though the 
 wicked Red Republicans come and smoke under his very nose 
 — yes, Miss Fanny, it is the lusty young Germany, pulling 
 the nose of the worn out old world.^'
 
 THE REIXECKS.
 
 THE KICKLKBURYS ON THE RHINE. 41 
 
 "Law, what do you mean, Mr Titmarsh?" cries the dear 
 Fanny. 
 
 " And here comes Mademoiselle de Rcineck, with her com- 
 panion — you see she is wearing out one of the faded silk 
 gowns which she has spoiled at the Ilcsidenz during the sea- 
 son : for the Reinccks are economical, though they are proud ; 
 and forced, like many other insolvent grandees, to do and to 
 wear shabby thiugs.^^ 
 
 " It is very kind of the young countess to call her com- 
 panion '^ Louise,' and to let Louise call her ' Laure ; ' but if 
 faces may be trusted, — and we can read in one countenance 
 conceit, and tyranny; deceit, and slyness, in another, — dear 
 Louise has to suflPer some hard raps from dear Laure : and, 
 to judge from her dress, I don^t think poor Louise has 
 her salary paid very regularly.^' 
 
 '^ What a comfort it is to live in a country where there is 
 neither insolence nor bankruptcy among the great folks, nor 
 cringing, nor flattery among the small: Is n't it. Miss Fanny? ^' 
 
 Miss Fanny says, that she can^t understand whether I am 
 joking or serious ; and her mamma calls her away to look at 
 the ruins of Wigginstein. Everybody looks at Wigginstein 
 — You are told in Murray to look at Wigginstein. 
 
 Lankin, who has been standing by with a grin, every now
 
 42 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 and then upon his sardonic countenance, comes up, and says, 
 "Titmarsli, how can you be so impertinent?^' 
 
 " Impertinent ! as how ?'' 
 
 "The girl must understand what you mean; and you 
 shouhl n't laugh at her own mother to her. Did you ever see 
 anything like the way in which that horrible woman is 
 following the young lord about ?" 
 
 '^ See ! You see it every day, my dear fellow ; only the 
 trick is better done, and Lady Kicklebury is rather a clumsy 
 practitioner. See ! why nobody is better aware of the springs 
 which are set to catch him than that young fellow himself, 
 who is as knowing as any veteran in May Fair. And you 
 do n't suppose that Lady Kicklebury fancies that she is doing 
 anything mean, or anything wrong ? Heaven bless you ! 
 she never did anything wrong in her life. She has no idea 
 but that everything she says, and thinks, and does is right. 
 And no doubt she never did rob a church : and was a faithful 
 wife to Sir Thomas, and pays her tradesmen. Confound her 
 virtue ! It is that which makes her so wonderful — that brass 
 armour in which she walks impenetrable — not knowing what 
 pity is, or charity ; crying sometimes when she is vexed^ or 
 thwarted, but laughing never; cringing, and domineering by 
 the same natural instinct — never doubting about herself above 
 all. Let us rise, and revolt against those people, Lankin.
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE KHINE. 43 
 
 Let us war with them, and smite them utterly. It is to use 
 against these, especially, that Scorn and Satire were invented." 
 " And the animal you attack," says Lankin, " is provided 
 with a hide to defend him — it is a common ordinance of 
 nature." 
 
 And so we pass by tower and town, and float up the 
 Rhine. We do n't describe the river. Who does not know 
 it? How you see people asleep in the cabins at the most 
 picturesque parts, and angry to be awakened when they fire 
 off those stupid guns for the echoes ! It is as familiar to 
 numbers of people as Greenwich ; and we know the merits 
 of the inns along the road as if they were the Trafalgar or 
 the Star and Garter. How stale everything grows ! If we 
 were to live in a garden of Eden_, now, and the gate were open, 
 we should go out, and tramp forward, and push on, and get 
 up early in the morning, and push on again — anything to 
 keep moving, anything to get a change ; anything but quiet 
 for the restless children of Cain. 
 
 So many thousands of English folks have been at Rouget- 
 noii'bourg in this and past seasons, that it is scarcely needful to 
 alter the name of that pretty little gay wicked place. There 
 were so many British barristers there this year that they called
 
 I! THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE IIIIINE. 
 
 the Hotel des Quatre Saisons tlie Hotel of Quarter Sessious. 
 There Avere judges and their wives^ Serjeants and their ladies. 
 Queen's eounsel learned in the law, the northern circuit and 
 the western circuit — there Averc officers of half-pay and full- 
 pay, military officers, naval officers, and sheriffs' officers. 
 There were people of high fashion and rank, and people 
 of no rank at all — there were men and women of reputation, 
 and of the two kinds of reputation — there were English boys 
 playing cricket; English pointers putting up the German 
 partridges, and English guns knocking them down — tliere 
 were women whose husbands, and men whose wives were at 
 home — there Avas high clim"ch and low church — England 
 turned out for a holiday, in a Avord. How much fai'ther 
 shall we extend our holiday ground, and Avhere shall we 
 camp next ? A Avinter at Cairo is nothing now. Perhaps 
 ere long avc shall be going to Saratoga Springs, and the 
 Americans coming to Margate for the summer. 
 
 Apartments befitting her dignity and the number of her 
 family had been secured for Lady Kicklebury by her dutiful 
 son, in the same house in which one of Lankin's friends had 
 secured for us much humbler lodgings. Kicklebury received 
 his mother's advent Avith a great deal of good humour; 
 and a wonderful figure the good-natured little baronet 
 was when he presented himself to his astonished friends,
 
 A STECIMEN Ol' A liRITON.
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 45 
 
 scarcely recognisable by bis own parent and sisters, and tbe 
 staring retainers of tlieir bouse. 
 
 "Mercy, Kicklebury ! bave you become a Red Republican ? " 
 his mother asked. 
 
 " I can't find a place to kiss you/' said JNIiss Fanny, 
 laughing to her brother ; and he gave her pretty cheek such a 
 scrub with his red beard, as made some folks think it would 
 be very pleasant to be Miss Fanny's brother. 
 
 In the coui'se of his travels, one of Sir Thomas Kickle- 
 bury 's chief amusements and cares had been to cultivate this 
 bushy auburn ornament. He said that no man could pro- 
 nounce German properly without a beard to his jaws : but 
 he did not appear to have got much beyond this preliminary 
 step to learning ; and, in spite of his beard, his honest English 
 accent came out, as his jolly English face looked forth from 
 behind that fierce and bristly decoration, perfectly good- 
 humoured and unmistakable. We try our best to look like 
 foreigners, but we can't. Every Italian mendicant or Pont 
 Neuf beggar knows his Englishman in spite of blouse, and 
 beard, and slouched hat. " There is a peculiar high-bred grace 
 about us," I whisper to Lady Kicklebury, "an aristocratic 
 Je ne sais quoi, which is not to be found in any but English- 
 men : and it is that which makes us so immenselv liked and 
 admired all over the Continent," AVell, this may be truth or
 
 46 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE IIHINE. 
 
 joke — this may be a sneer or a simple assertion : our vulgari- 
 ties and our insolences may perhaps make us as remarkable^ 
 as that high-breeding whieh we assume to possess. It may 
 be that the continental society ridicules and detests us, as we 
 walk domineering over Europe — but, after all, which of us 
 would denationalize himself? who would n't be an English- 
 man? Come, sir, cosmopolite as you are, passing all your 
 winters at Rome or at Paris ; exiled by choice, or poverty, from 
 your own country; preferring easier manners, cheaper plea- 
 sures, a simpler life ; are you not still proud of your British 
 citizenship ? and would you like to be a Frenchman ? 
 
 Kieklcbury has a great acquaintance at Noirbourg, and as 
 he walks into the great concert room at night, introducing his 
 mother and sisters there, he seemed to look about with a little 
 anxiety,lest all of his acquaintance should recognise him. There 
 are some in that most strange and motley company with whom 
 he had rather not exchange salutations, under present circum- 
 stances. Pleasui'e-seekers from every nation in the world are 
 here, sharpers of both sexes, wearers of the stars and cordons 
 of every court in Europe : Russian princesses, Spanish gran- 
 dees, Belgian, French, and English nobles, every degree of 
 Briton, from the ambassador, avIio has his corujt, to the London 
 apprentice who has come out for his fortnight's lark. Kieklc- 
 bury knows them all, and has a good-natured nod for each.
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 47 
 
 " Who is that lady with the three daughters who saluted 
 you, Kicklebury ? ^' asks his mother. 
 
 "That is our Ambassadress at X., ma'am; I saw her 
 yesterday buying a penny toy for one of her little children 
 in Frankfort Fair." 
 
 Lady Kicklebury looks towards Lady X. ; she makes 
 her excellency an undeveloped curtsey, as it were ; she 
 waves her plumed head, (Lady K. is got up m great 
 style, in a rich dejeuner toilette, perfectly regardless of 
 expense) ; she salutes the ambassadress with a sweeping 
 gesture from her chair, and backs before her as before royalty, 
 and turns to her daughter's large eyes full of meaning, and 
 spreads out her silks in state. 
 
 " And who is that distinguished-looking man who just 
 passed, and who gave you a reserved nod?" asks her 
 ladyship. " Is that Lord X. ?" 
 
 Kicklebury burst out laughing. "That, ma'am, is Mr. 
 Higmore, of Conduit Street, tailor, draper, and habit-maker 
 — and I owe him a hundred pound." 
 
 "The insolence of that sort of people is really intoler- 
 able," says Lady Kicklebury. "There must be some dis- 
 tinction of classes. They ought not to be allowed to go 
 everywhere. And who is yonder, that lady with the two boys 
 and the — the very high complexion?" Lady Kicklebury asks.
 
 48 THE KICKLICBUKYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 " That is a Russian princess : and one of tliose little 
 boys, the one who is sncking a piece of barley-sugar, plays, 
 and wins five hundred louis in a night/^ 
 
 " Kicklcbury, you do not play ? Promise your mother 
 you do not ! SAvcar to me at this moment you do not ! 
 "Where are the horrid gambling rooms ? There, at that door 
 where the crowd is ? Of course, I shall never enter them ! " 
 " Of course not, ma'am,^' says the affectionate son on 
 duty. " And if you come to the balls here, please do n't let 
 Fanny dance with anybody, until you ask me first : you 
 understand ? Fanny, you will take care." 
 " Yes, Tom,^^ says Fanny. 
 
 " What, Hicks, how are you, old fellow ? How is Platts ? 
 Who would have thought of you being here? When did 
 you come ? " 
 
 "I had the pleasure of travelling with Lady Kicklebury 
 and her daughters in the London boat to Antwerp," says 
 Captain Hicks, making the ladies a bow. Kicklebury intro- 
 duces Hicks to his mother as his most particular friend — and 
 he whispers Fanny, that " he 's as good a fellow as ever lived. 
 Hicks is." Fauuvsavs, "He seems vervkind and ijrood-natured: 
 and — and Captain Hicks waltzes very well," says Miss Fanny 
 with a blush, " and I hope I may have him for one of my 
 partners."
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE KHINE. 49 
 
 What a Babel of tongues it is in tliis splendid hall with 
 gleaming marble pillars ; a ceaseless rushing Avhispcr as if the 
 band were playing its music by a waterfall ! The British 
 lawyers are all got together, and my friend Lankin, on his 
 arrival, has been carried off by his brother Serjeants, and 
 becomes once more a lawyer. " Well, brother Lankin," says 
 old Sir Thomas INIiuos, with his venerable kind face, ''you 
 have got your rule, I see." And they fall into talk about 
 their law matters, as they always do, wherever they are — at a 
 club, in a ball-room, at a dinner-table, at the top of Chim- 
 borazo. Some of the young barristers appear as bucks with 
 uncommon splendour, and dance and hang about the ladies. 
 But they have not the easy languid deuce-may-care aii' of the 
 young bucks of the Hicks and Kicklebury school — they can^t 
 put on their clothes with that happy negligence ; their 
 neckcloths sit quite differently on them, somehow : they 
 become very hot when they dance, and yet do not spin round 
 near* so quickly as those London youths, who have acquired 
 experience in corpore vili, and learned to dance easily by the 
 practice of a thousand casinos. 
 
 Above the Babel tongues and the clang of the music, as 
 you listen in the great saloon, you hear from a neighbouring 
 room a certain sharp ringing clatter, and a hard clear voice 
 cries out, '' Zero rouge," or " Trente-cinq noir, impair et 
 
 E
 
 50 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 passe ; " and then there is a pause of a couple of minutes, 
 and then the voice says, '' Faites le Jeu Messieurs. Le Jeu 
 est fait, Rien ne vaplas " — and tlic sharp ringing clatter recom- 
 mences. You know what that room is ? That is Hades. 
 That is where the spirited proprietor of the establishment 
 takes his toll, and thither the people go who pay the money 
 which supports the spirited proprietor and this fine palace and 
 gardens. Let us enter Hades, and see w^hat is going on there. 
 Hades is not an unpleasant place. Most of the people 
 look rather cheerful. You don't see any frantic gamblers 
 gnashing their teeth or dashing down their last stakes. The 
 winners have the most anxious faces; or the poor shabby 
 fellows who have got systems, and are pricking down the 
 alternations of red and black ou cards, and do n't seem to be 
 playing at all. On fete days the country people come in, 
 men and women, to gamble ; and they seem to be excited as 
 they put down their hard-earned florins with trembling rough 
 hands, and watch the tm'n of the wheel. But what you call 
 the good company is very quiet and easy. A man loses his 
 mass of gold, and gets up and walks off", without any particular 
 mark of despair. The only gentleman whom I saw at Noir- 
 bourg who seemed reallv affected was a certain Count de 
 Mustacheff*, a Russian of enormous wealth, who clenched his 
 fists, beat his breast, cursed his stars, and absolutely cried with
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 51 
 
 grief: not for losing money, but for neglecting to win and 
 play upon a coup de vingt, a series in which the red was 
 turned up tAventy times running; which series had he but 
 played, it is clear that he might have broken M. Lenoir's 
 bank, and shut up the gambling-house, and doubled his own 
 fortune — when he Avould have been no happier, and all the 
 balls and music, all the newspaper-rooms and parks, all the 
 feasting and pleasure of this delightful Rougetnoirbourg would 
 have been at an end. 
 
 For though he is a wicked gambling prince, Lenoir, he is 
 beloved in all these regions ; his establishment gives life to the 
 town, to the lodging-house and hotel-keepers, to the milliners 
 andhackney-coachmen,tothelettersofhorse-flesh,to the hunts- 
 men and gardes-de-chasse ; to all these honest fiddlers and 
 trumpeters who play so delectably. Were Lenoir's bank to 
 break, the whole little city would shut up ; and all the Noir- 
 bourgers wish him prosperity, and benefit by his good fortune. 
 
 Three years since the Noirbourgers underwent a mighty 
 panic. There came, at a time when the chief Lenoir was 
 at Paris and the reins of government were in the hands of 
 his younger brother, a company of adventurers from Belgium, 
 with a capital of three hundred thousand francs, and an in- 
 fallible system for playing rouge et noir, and they boldly 
 challenged the bank of Lenoir, and sate down before his 
 
 E 2
 
 52 THE KICKLEUURYS O.N THE KHINE. 
 
 croupiers^ aad defied him. They called themselves in their 
 pride the Coutrebanque de Noirbourg: they had their eroupiers 
 and punters, even as Lenoir had his : they had their rouleaux 
 of Napoleons^ stamped with their Contrebanquish seal : — and 
 they began to play. 
 
 As when two mighty giants step out of a host and engage, 
 the armies stand still in expectation, and the puny privates 
 and commonalty remain quiet to witness the combat of the 
 tremendous champions of tlie war : so, it is said, that when 
 the Contrebanque arrived, and ranged itself before the officers 
 of Lenoir — rouleau to rouleau, bank note to bank note, war 
 for Avar, controlment for controlment — all the minor punters 
 and gamblers ceased their peddling play, and looked on in 
 silence, round the verdant plain where the great combat was 
 to be decided. 
 
 Not used to the vast operations of war, like his elder bro- 
 ther, Lenoir junior, the lieutenant, telegraphed to his absent 
 chief the news of the mighty enemy who had come down 
 ui)on him, asked for instructions, and in the meauAvliile met 
 the foeman like a man. The Contrebanque of Noirbourg 
 gallantly opened its campaign. 
 
 The Lenoir bank Avas defeated day after day, in numerous 
 savage encounters. The tactics of the Contrebanquist gen- 
 erals were irresistible : their infernal system bore dow^n every
 
 THE KICKLEHURYS 0\ THE RHINE. 53 
 
 thing: before it, and they marched onwards terrible and vic- 
 torious as the Macedonian phalanx. Tuesday, a loss of 
 eighteen thousand florins ; AVednesday, a loss of twelve 
 thousand florins ; Thursday, a loss of forty thousand florins 
 — ni":ht after niKht, the voung Lenoir had to chronicle these 
 disasters in melancholy despatches to his chief. AVhat was to 
 be done ? Night after night, the Noirbourgers retired home 
 doubtful and disconsolate ; the horrid Contrebanquists ga- 
 thered up their spoils, and retired to a victorious supper. 
 How was it to end ? 
 
 Far away at Paris, the elder Lenoir answered these appeals 
 of his brother by sending reinforcements of money. Chests 
 of gold arrived for the bank. The Prince of Noirbourg bade 
 his beleaguered lieutenant not to lose heart : he himself never 
 for a moment blenched in this trying hour of danger. 
 
 The Contrebanquists still went on victorious. Rouleau 
 after rouleau fell into their possession. At last the news came : 
 The Emperor has joined the Grand Army. Lenoir himself 
 had arrived from Paris, and was once more among his children, 
 his people. The daily combats continued : and still, still, 
 though Napoleon was with the Eagles, the abominable Con- 
 trebanquists fought and conquered. And far greater than 
 Napoleon, as great as Ney himself under disaster, the bold 
 Lenoir never lost com-age, never lost good humour, was affable,
 
 54 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 was gentle^ was careful of his subjects^ pleasures and comforts, 
 and met an adverse fortune with a dauntless smile. 
 
 AVith a devilish forbearance and coolness, the atrocious 
 Contrebanquc, like Polyphemus, who only took one of his pri- 
 soners out of the cave at a time, and so ate them otF at leisure ; 
 the horrid Contrebanquists, I say, contented themselves with 
 winning so much before dinner, and so much before supper — 
 say five thousand florins for each meal. They played and won 
 at noon : they played and won at eventide. They of Noir- 
 bourg went home sadly every night : the invader was carrying 
 all before him. What must have been the feelings of the 
 great Lenoir ? What were those of Washington before 
 Trenton, when it seemed all up with the cause of American 
 Independence ; what those of the virgin Elizabeth, when the 
 Armada was signalled ; what those of Miltiades, when the 
 multitudinous Persian bore down on Marathon ? The people 
 looked on at the combat, and saw their chieftain stricken, 
 bleeding, fallen, fighting still. 
 
 At last there came one day when the Contrebanquists had 
 won their allotted sum, and were about to leave the tables 
 which they had swept so often. But pride and lust of gold 
 had seized upon the heart of one of their vain-glorious 
 chieftains ; and he said, " Do not let us go yet — let us win a 
 thousand florins more ! '^ So they stayed and set the bank yet a
 
 THE KICKLEBUHYS ON THE RHINE. 55 
 
 thousand florins. The Noirbourgcrs looked on, and trembled 
 for their prince. 
 
 Some three hours afterwards — a shout, a mighty shout was 
 heard around the windows of that palace ; the town, the gar- 
 dens, the hills, the fountains look up, and echoed the jubilant 
 acclaim — Hip, hip, hip, hurrah, hurrah, hurrah ! People 
 rushed into each others' arms; men, Avomen, and children cried 
 and kissed each other. Croupiers, M^ho never feel, who never 
 tremble, who never care whether black Avins or red loses, 
 took snufF from each others^ boxes, and laughed for joy ; and 
 Lenoir, the dauntless, the invincible Lenoir, wiped the drops 
 of perspiration from his calm forehead, as he drew the enemy's 
 last rouleau into his till. He had conquered. The Persians 
 were beaten, horse and foot — the Armada had gone down. 
 Since Wellington shut up his telescope at Waterloo, when 
 the Prussians came charging on to the field, and the guard 
 broke and fled, there had been no such heroic endurance, 
 such utter defeat, such signal and crowning victory. Vive 
 Lenoir ! I am a Lenoirite. I have read his newspapers, 
 strolled in his gardens, listened to his music, and rejoice in 
 his victory : I am glad he beat those Contrebanquists. Dis- 
 sipati sunt. The game is up with them. 
 
 The instances of this man's magnanimity are numerous.
 
 56 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE IIHINE. 
 
 and worthy of Alexander the Great, or Harry the Fifth, or 
 Robin Hood. Most gentle is he, and thoughtful to the poor, 
 and merciful to the vanquished. When Jeremy Diddler, who 
 had lost twenty pounds at his table, lay in inglorious pawn 
 at his inn ; when O' Toole could not leave Noirbourg until 
 he had received his remittances from Ireland, the noble 
 Lenoir paid Diddler's inn bill, advanced O 'Toole money upon 
 his well known signature, franked both of them back to their 
 native country again; and has never, wonderful to state, 
 been paid from that day to this. If you will go play at his 
 tabic, you may; but nobody forces you. If you lose, pay 
 with a cheerful heart. Dulce est desipere in loco. This is 
 not a treaty of morals. Friar Tuck was not an exemplary 
 ecclesiastic, nor Robin Hood a model man; but he was a 
 jolly outlaw; and, I dare say, the Sheriff of Nottingham, 
 whose monev he took, rather relished his feast at Robin^s 
 green table. 
 
 And if you lose, worthy friend, as possibly you will, at 
 Lenoir's pretty games, console yourself by thinking that it is 
 much better for you in the end that you should lose, than 
 that you should win. Let me, for my part, make a clean 
 breast of it, and oavu that your humble servant did, on one 
 occasion, win a score of Napoleons ; and beginning with a
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS 0\ THE RHINE. 57 
 
 sum of no less than five sliilliiigs. But until I had lost them 
 again I was so feverish^ excited, and uneasy, that I had 
 neither delectation in reading the most exciting French novels, 
 nor pleasure in seeing pretty landscapes, nor appetite for din- 
 ner. The moment, however, that graceless money was gone, 
 equanimity was restored ; Paul Feval and Eugene Sue began 
 to be terrifically interesting again ; and the dinners at Noir- 
 bourg, though by no means good culinary specimens, were 
 perfectly sufficient for my easy and tranquil mind. Lankin, 
 who played only a lawyer's rubber at whist, marked the 
 salutary change in his friend's condition; and, for my part, 
 I hope and pray that every honest reader of this volume who 
 plays at M. Lenoir's table, vnll lose every shilling of his win- 
 nings before he goes away. Where are the gamblers whom 
 we have read of? Where are the card-players whom we can 
 remember in our early days? At one time almost every 
 gentleman played, and there were whist tables in every 
 lady's drawing-room. But trumps are going out along 
 with numbers of old world institutions ; and, before very 
 long, a black-leg will be as rare an animal as a knight in 
 armour. 
 
 There was a little dwarfish, abortive, counter-bank set up 
 at Noirbourg this year : but the gentlemen soon disagreed 
 among themselves; and, let us hope, were cut off in detail
 
 58 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 by the great Lenoir. And tliero was a Frenchman at our 
 inn wlio had won two Napoleons per day for the last six 
 weeks, and who had an infallible system, whereof he kindly 
 offered to ccmmunieate the secret for the consideration of a 
 hundred Louis ; but there came one fatal night when the poor 
 Frenchman's system could not make head against fortune, 
 and her wheel went over him, and he disappeared utterly. 
 
 With the early morning everybody rises and makes his or 
 her appearance at the Springs, where they partake of water 
 with a wonderful energy and perseverance. They say that 
 people get to be fond of this water at last ; as to what tastes 
 cannot men accustom themselves ? I drank a couple of 
 glasses of an abominable sort of feeble salts in a state of very 
 gentle effervescence ; but, though there Avas a very pretty girl 
 who served it, the drink was abominable, and it was a marvel 
 to see the various topers, who tossed off glass after glass, which 
 the fair-haired little Hebe delivered sparkling from the well. 
 
 Seeing my wry faces, old Captain Carver expostulated, 
 with a jolly twinkle of his eye, as he absorbed the contents 
 of a sparkling crystal beaker. " Pooh ! take another glass. 
 Sir : you '11 like it better and better every day. It refreshes 
 you, Sir : it fortifies you : and as for liking it — gad ! I 
 remember the time when I didn't like claret. Times are
 
 4 'fV.:h'ii)(i'-- -; 
 
 .7\i mh 
 
 ^>M '-%i 
 
 THE WATER CURE.
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THK RHINE. 59 
 
 altered now, ha ! lia ! jNlrs. Fautail, madam, I wish you a 
 very good morning. How is FantailV He don't come to 
 drink the water : so much the worse for him." 
 
 To see Mrs. Fautail of an evening is to behold a mag- 
 nificent sight. She ought to be shown in a room by herself; 
 and, indeed, would occupy a moderate sized one with her 
 person and adornments. Marie Antoinette's hoop is not 
 bigger than Mrs. Fantail's flounces. Twenty men taking 
 hands (and, indeed, she likes to have at least that number 
 about her) would scarcely encompass her. Her chestnut 
 ringlets spread out in a halo round her face : she must want 
 two or three coiffeurs to arrange that prodigious head-dress ; 
 and then, when it is done, how can she endure that extraor- 
 dinary gown ? Her travelling band-boxes must be as large 
 as omnibuses. 
 
 But see Mrs. Fantail in the morning : having taken in all 
 sail; the chestnut curls having disappeared, and two limp 
 bands of brown hair over her lean, sallow face ; and you see 
 before you an ascetic, a nun, a woman worn by mortifications, 
 of a sad yellow aspect, drinking salts at the well : a vision 
 quite different from that rapturous one of the previous 
 niffht's ball-room. No wonder Fantail does not come out 
 of a morning ; he had rather not see such a Rebecca at the 
 well.
 
 60 TIIK KTCKLERURYS OX THE RHINE. 
 
 Lady Kicklebury came for some mornings pretty regularly, 
 and was very civil to Mr. Leader, and made jNIiss Fanny 
 drink -wlion liis lordship took a cnp, and asked Lord Talboys 
 and liis tutor to dinner. But the tutor came, and, blushing, 
 brought an excuse from Talboys; and poor jNIilliken had 
 not a very pleasant evening after Mr. Baring Leader rose to 
 go away. 
 
 But though the water was not good, the sun was bright, 
 the music cheery, the landscape fresh and pleasant, and it 
 was always amusing to see the vast varieties of our human 
 species that congregated at the Springs, and trudged up and 
 doAvn the green allees. One of the gambling conspirators of 
 the roulette table it was good to see here in his private cha- 
 racter, drinking down pints of salts like any other sinner, 
 having a homely wife on his arm, and between them a poodle 
 on which they lavished tlieir tenderest affection. You see 
 these people care for other things besides trumps; and are 
 not always thinking about black and red : — as even ogres 
 are represented, in their histories, as of cruel natures, and 
 licentious appetites, and, to be sure, fond of eating men and 
 women; but yet it appears that their wives often respected 
 them, and they had a sincere liking for their own hideous 
 children. And, besides the card players, there are band 
 players : every now and then a fiddle from the neighbour-
 
 TUB KICKLE13UUYS ON TIIL UIllNE. 61 
 
 ing orchestra, or a disorganized bassoon, will step down and 
 drink a glass of the water, and jump back into his rank 
 again. 
 
 Then come the burly troops of English, the honest lawyers, 
 merchants, and gentlemen, with their wives and buxom 
 daughters, and stout sons ; that, almost grown to the height 
 of manhood, are boys still, with rough wide-awake hats and 
 shooting-jackets, full of lark and laughter. A French boy 
 of sixteen has had des passions ere that time, very likely, and 
 is already particular in his dress, an ogler of the women, and 
 preparing to kill. Adolphe says to Alphonse — ''La voila, 
 cette charmante Miss Fanni, la belle Kickleburi ! je te donne 
 ma paole, elle est fraiche comnie une rose ! la crois tu riche, 
 Alphonse ? " " Je me range, mon ami, vois tu ; la vie de 
 garcon me pese. Ma paole d^houneur ! je me range." 
 
 And he gives Miss Fanny a killing bow, and a glance 
 which seems to say, " Sweet Anglaise, I know that I have 
 won vour heart/' 
 
 Then besides the young French buck, whom we will wil- 
 lingly suppose harmless, you see specimens of the French 
 raff, who goes mix eaux : gambler, speculator, sentimentalist, 
 duellist, travelling with madame, his wife, at whom other 
 raffs nod and wink familiarly. This rogue is much more 
 picturesque and civilized than the similar person in our own
 
 62 THE KICKLEBUKYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 country : wliose manners hetrav the stable : who never reads 
 anything but Bell's Life ; and avIio is much more at ease in 
 conversing with a groom than Avith his employer. Here 
 come j\Ir. Boucher and Mr. Fowler : better to gamble for a 
 score of nights with honest ISIonsieur Lenoir, than to sit 
 down in private once with those gentlemen. But we have 
 said that their profession is going down, and the number 
 of Greeks daily diminishes. They are travelling with Mr. 
 Bloundell, who was a gentleman once, and still retains about 
 him some faint odour of that time of bloom ; and Bloundell 
 has put himself on young Lord Talboys, and is trying to get 
 some money out of that young nobleman. But the English 
 youth of the present day is a wide-awake youth, and male or 
 female artifices are expended pretty much in vain on our 
 young travelling companion. 
 
 Who come yonder? Those two fellows whom we met at 
 the table d'hote at the Hotel de Bussie, the other day ; gen- 
 tlemen of splendid costume, and yet questionable appearances, 
 the eldest of Avhom called for the list of wines, and cried out 
 loud enough for all the company to hear, " Lafitte, six florins. 
 Arry, shall we ave some Lafitte? You don't mind? No 
 more do I then. I say, waiter, let's ave pint of ordinaire." 
 Truth is stranger than fiction. You good fellow, wherever 
 you are, why did you ask Arry to ave that pint of ordinaire
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 63 
 
 in the presence of your obedient servant ? How could he do 
 otherwise than chronicle the speech ? 
 
 And see ; here is a lady who is doubly desirous to be put 
 into print, who encourages it and invites it. It appears that 
 on Lankin's first arrival at Noirbourg with his travelling 
 companion, a certain sensation was created in thejiittle society 
 by the rumour that an emissary of the famous Mr. Punch 
 had arrived in the place ; and, as we were smoking the cigar 
 of peace on the lawn after dinner, looking on at the benevo- 
 lent pretty scene, Mrs. Hopkins, Miss Hopkins, and the ex- 
 cellent head of the family, walked many times up and down 
 before us ; eyed us severely face to face, and then walking away, 
 shot back fierce glances at us in the Parthian manner ; and at 
 length, at the third or fourth turn, and when we could not but 
 overhear so fine a voice, Mrs. Hopkins looks at us steadily, and 
 says, " I ^m sure he may put me in if he likes : I don't mind." 
 
 O, ma'am ! O, Mrs. Hopkins ! how should a gentleman, 
 who had never seen your face or heard of you before, want to 
 put you in? What interest can the British public have in 
 you ? But as you wish it, and court publicity, here you are. 
 Good luck go with you, Madam. I have forgotten your real 
 name, and should not know you again if I saw you. But 
 why could not you leave a man to take his cofi'ee and smoke 
 his pipe in quiet ?
 
 61 THE KICKLEBUKYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 We could never have time to make a catalogue of all the 
 portraits that figure in this motley gallery. Among the 
 travellers in Europe^ who are daily multiplying in numbers 
 and increasing in splendour, the United States^ dandies must 
 not be omitted. They seem as rich as the ]\Iilor of old days ; 
 they crowd in European capitals, they have elbowed out 
 people of the old country from many hotels Avhich we used 
 to frequent ; they adopt the French fashion of dressing rather 
 than ours, and they grow handsomer beards than English 
 beards : as some plants are found to flourish and shoot up pro- 
 disiouslv when introduced into a new soil. The ladies seem 
 to be as well dressed as Parisians, and as handsome ; though 
 somewhat more delicate, perhaps, than the native English 
 roses. They drive the finest carriages, they keep the grandest 
 houses, they frequent the grandest company — and, in a word, 
 the Broadway Swell has now taken his station and asserted 
 his dignity amongst the grandees of Europe. He is fond of 
 asking Count Eeineck to dinner, and Griifinn Laura AviU 
 condescend to look kindly upon a gentleman who has millions 
 of dollars. Here comes a pair of New Yorkers. Behold 
 their elegant curling beards, their velvet coats, their delicate 
 primrose gloves and cambric handkerchiefs, and the aristo- 
 cratic beauty of their boots. Why, if yon had sixteen quar- 
 tcriiigs, you could not have smaller feet than those; and if
 
 THE GERMAN PEASANT MAIDEN.
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 65 
 
 you were descended from a line of kings you could not smoke 
 better or bigger cigars. 
 
 Lady Kicklebury deigns to tliink very well of these young 
 men_, since she has seen them in the company of grandees, 
 and heard how rich they are. " Who is that very stylish- 
 looking woman, to whom Mr. Washington Walker spoke 
 just now?^' she asks of Kicklebury. 
 
 Kicklebury gives a twinkle of his eye. " O, that, mother ! 
 that is Madame La Princesse de Mogador — it^s a French 
 title." 
 
 ''She danced last night, and danced exceedingly Avell; 
 I remarked her. There ^s a very high-bred grace about the 
 princess.'^ 
 
 '' Yes, exceedingly. We 'd better come on," says Kickle- 
 bury, blushing rather as he returns the princesses nod. 
 
 It is wonderful how large Kicklebury ^s acquaintance is. 
 He has a word and a joke, in the best German he can muster, 
 for everybody — for the high well-born lady, as for the Ger- 
 man peasant maiden, who stood for the lovely portrait which 
 faces this page ; as for the pretty little washerwoman, who 
 comes full sail down the streets, a basket on her head and 
 one of Mrs. Fantail's wonderful gowns swelling on each arm. 
 As we were going to the Schloss- Garten I caught a sight of 
 the rogue^s grinning face yesterday, close at little Gretel's
 
 ()6 THE KICKLEBUllYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 ear under her basket : but spying out bis mother advancing, 
 he dashed do-vrn a bye street, and wlien we came up with her, 
 Gretel was alone. 
 
 One but seldom sees the English and the holiday visitors 
 in the ancient parts of Noirbourg : they keep to the streets 
 of new buildings and garden villas, which have sprung up 
 under the magic influence of M. Lenoir, under the white 
 towers and gables of the old German town. The Prince 
 of Trente et Quarante has quite overcome the old serene 
 sovereign of Noirbourg, whom one cannot help fancying a 
 prince like a prince in a Christmas pantomime — a burlesque 
 prince with twopence-halfpenny for a revenue, jolly and 
 irascible, a prime-minister-kicking prince, fed upon fabulous 
 plum-puddings and enormous pasteboard joints, by cooks 
 and valets with large heads which never alter their grin. 
 Not that this portrait is from the life. Perhaps he has 
 no life. Perhaps there is no prince in the great white tower, 
 that we see for miles before we enter the little town. Per- 
 haps he has been mediatized, and sold his kingdom to 
 Monsieur Lenoir. Before the palace of Lenoir there is a 
 grove of orange trees in tubs, which Lenoir bought from 
 another German prince ; who went straightway and lost the 
 money, which he had been paid for his wonderful orange 
 trees, over Lenoir's green tables, at his roulette and Trente
 
 CHARGE OF NOIRBOURG
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 67 
 
 et Quarante. A great prince is Lenoir in his way ; a generous 
 and magnanimous prince. You may come to his feast and 
 pay nothing, miless you please. You may walk in his gar- 
 dens, sit in his palace, and read his thousand newspapers. 
 You may go and play at Avhist in his small drawing-rooms, 
 or dance and hear concerts in his grand saloon — and there is 
 not a penny to pay. His fiddlers and trumpeters begin 
 trumpeting and fiddling for you at the early dawn — they 
 twang and blow for you in the afternoon, they pipe for you 
 at night that you may dance — and there is nothing to pay — 
 Lenoir pays for all. Give him but the chances of the table, 
 and he will do all this and more. It is better to live under 
 Prince Lenoir than a fabulous old German Durchlaucht, 
 whose cavalry ride wicker horses with petticoats, and whose 
 prime minister has a great pasteboard head. Vive le Prince 
 Lenoir ! 
 
 There is a grotesque old carved gate to the palace of the 
 Durchlaucht, from which you could expect none but a panto- 
 mime procession to pass. The place looks asleep ; the courts 
 are grass-grown and deserted. Is the Sleeping Beauty lying 
 yonder, in the great white tower ? What is the little army 
 about ? It seems a sham army : a sort of grotesque military. 
 The only charge of infantry, was this : one day when passing 
 
 through the old town, looking for sketches. Perhaps they 
 
 F 2
 
 68 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE IIHINE. 
 
 become croupiers at night. "What can such a fabulous prince 
 want with anything but a sham army '? My favourite walk 
 was in the ancient quarter of the town — the dear old fabu- 
 lous quarter, away from the noisy actualities of life and 
 Prince Lenoir's new palace — out of eye and earshot of the 
 dandies and the ladies in their grand best clothes at the 
 promenades — and the rattling wdiirl of the roulette wheel — 
 and I liked to wander in the glum old gardens under the 
 palace wall, and imagine the Sleeping Beauty within there. 
 
 Some one persuaded us one day to break the charm, 
 and see the interior of the palace. I am son-y we did. 
 There was no Sleeping Beauty in any chamber that we saw ; 
 nor any fairies, good or malevolent. There w^as a shabby 
 set of clean old rooms, which looked as if they had belonged 
 to a prince hard put to it for money, and whose tin-crown 
 jewels would not fetch more than King Stephen's panta- 
 loons. A fugitive prince; a brave prince struggling with 
 the storms of fate, a prince in exile may be poor; but a 
 prince looking out of his OAvn palace windows with a dress- 
 ing-gown out at elbows, and dunned by his subject washer- 
 woman — I say this is a painful object. When they get 
 shabby they ought not to be seen. ''Don't you think so. 
 Lady Kicklcbury ?" Lady Kicklebury evidently had calcu- 
 lated the price of the carpets and hangings, and set them
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 69 
 
 justly down at a low figure. " These German princes/' she 
 saidj " arc not to be put on a level with English noblemen.'' 
 '^ Indeed," wc answer, " there is nothing so perfect as 
 England ; nothing so good as our aristocracy ; nothing so 
 perfect as our institutions." " Nothing ! nothing ! " says 
 Lady K. 
 
 An English princess was once brought to reign here; 
 and almost the whole of the little court was kept upon her 
 dowry. The people still regard her name fondly ; and they 
 show, at the Sehloss, the rooms which she inhabited. Her 
 old books are still there — her old furniture brought from 
 home ; the presents and keepsakes sent by her family, are as 
 they were in the princess's lifetime : the very clock has the 
 name of a Windsor maker on its face ; and portraits of all her 
 numerous race decorate the homely walls of the now empty 
 chambers. There is the benighted old king, his beard hang- 
 ing down to the star on his breast ; and tlie first gentleman 
 of Europe — so lavish of his portrait everywhere, and so chary 
 of showing his royal person — all the stalwart brothers of 
 the now all but extinct generation are there ; their quarrels 
 and their pleasures, their glories and disgraces, enemies, 
 flatterers, detractors, admirers — ^all now buried. Is it not 
 curious to think that the Kiug of Trumps now virtually 
 reigns in this place, and has deposed the other dynasty ?
 
 70 THE KICKLERUllYS ON THE RIIIXE. 
 
 Very early one morniiifi:, wishing to have a sketch of the 
 White Tower in which our English princess had been im- 
 ]irisonc(l, I repaired to the gardens, and set about a work, 
 which, when completed, will no doubt have the honour of 
 a place on the line at the exhibition ; and, returning home- 
 wards to breakfast, musing upon the strange fortunes and 
 inhabitants of the queer, fantastic, melancholy place, behold, I 
 came suddenly upon a couple of persons, a male and a female ; 
 the latter of whom wore a blue hood or " vigly," and blushed 
 very much on seeing me. The man began to laugh behind 
 his mustaches, the which cachinnation was checked by an 
 appealing look from the young lady; and he held out his 
 hand and said, ^' How d^ ye do, Titmarsh. Been out making 
 some cawickachaws, hay ? " 
 
 I need not say that the youth before me was the heavy 
 dragoon, and the maiden was Miss Fanny Kicklebury. Or 
 need I repeat that in the course of my blighted being, I 
 never loved a young gazelle to glad me with its dark blue 
 eye, but when it came to, &c., the usual disappointment was 
 sure to ensue? There is no necessity why I should aUude 
 to ray feelings at this most manifest and outrageous case. I 
 gave a withering glance of scorn at the pair, and, with a 
 stately salutation, passed on. 
 
 Miss Fanny came tripping after me. She held out her
 
 THE OLD STORY.
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS OX THE RHINE. 71 
 
 little liand with such a pretty look of deprecation, that I 
 could not but take it; and she said, ''Mr. Titraarsh, if you 
 please, I want to speak to you, if you please ; " and, choking 
 with emotion, I bade her speak on. 
 
 '^ My brother knows all about it ; and liighly approves 
 of Captain Hicks," she said, with her head hanging down; 
 " and O, he 's very good and kind : and I know him much 
 better now, than I did Avlien we were on board the steamer." 
 
 I thought how I had mimicked him, and what an ass I 
 had been. 
 
 " And you know,'" she continued, " that you have quite 
 deserted me for the last ten days for your great acquaintances." 
 
 " I have been to play chess with Lord Knightsbridge, who 
 has the gout," 
 
 " And to drink tea constantly ^vith that American lady ; 
 and you have written verses in her album, and in Lavinia^s 
 album ; and as I saw that you had quite thrown me off, why I 
 — my brother approves of it highly ; and — and Captain Hicks 
 likes you very much, and says you amuse him very much — 
 indeed he does," says the arch little wretch. And then she 
 added a postscript, as it were, to her letter, which contained, 
 as usual, the point which she wished to urge : — 
 
 " You — won't break it to mamma — will you be so kind ? 
 My brother will' do that " — and I promised her ; and she ran
 
 72 THE KICILLEBUIIYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 away, kissing her hand to me. And I did not say a word to 
 Lady Kicklebury, and not above a thousand people at Noir- 
 bourg knew that Miss Kicklebury and Captain Hicks were 
 engaged. 
 
 And now let those wlio arc too confident of their virtue 
 listen to the truthful and melancholy story which I have to 
 relate, and humble themselves, and bear in mind that 
 the most perfect among us are occasionally liable to fall. 
 Kicklebury was not perfect. I do not defend his practice. 
 He spent a great deal more time and money than was good 
 for him at M. Lenoir^s gaming-table, and the only thing 
 which the young fellow never lost was his good humour. 
 If Fortune shook her swift wings and fled away from him, 
 he laughed at the retreating pinions, and you saw him 
 dancing and laughing as gayly after losing a rouleau, as 
 if he was made of money, and really had the five thousand 
 a-year Avhich his mother said was the amount of the Kickle- 
 bury property. But when her ladyship's jointure, and the 
 young ladies' allowances, and the interest of mortgages were 
 paid out of the five thousand a-year, I grieve to say that the 
 gallant Kicklcbury's income was to be counted by hundreds 
 and not by thousands ; so that, for any young lady who wants 
 a carriage, (and who can live without one ?) our friend the
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 73 
 
 baronet is not a desirable specimen of bachelors. Now, 
 whether it was that the presence of his mamma interrupted 
 his pleasures, or certain of her ways did not please him, or 
 that he had lost all his money at roulette and could afford 
 no more, certain it is, that after about a fortnight's stay at 
 Noirbourg, he went off to shoot with Count Einhorn in 
 Westphalia; he and Hicks parting the dearest of friends, 
 and the Baronet going off on a pony which the captain 
 lent to him. Between him and Milliken, his brother-in- 
 law, there was not much sympathy; for he pronounced 
 Mr. Milliken to be what is called a muff; and had never 
 been familiar with his elder sister Lavinia, of whose poems 
 he had a mean opinion, and who used to tease and worry him 
 by teaching him French, and telling tales of him to his 
 mamma, when he was a schoolboy home for the holidays. 
 Whereas, between the Baronet and Miss Fanny there seemed 
 to be the closest affection : they walked together every 
 morning to the waters; they joked and laughed with each 
 other as happily as possible. Fanny was almost ready to 
 tell fibs to screen her brother's malpractices from her mamma ; 
 she cried when she heard of his mishaps, and that he had 
 lost too much money at the green table ; and when Sir Thomas 
 went away, the good little soul brought him five louis ; which 
 was all the money she had : for you see she paid her
 
 74 THE KICKLEUUKYS OX THE KHINE. 
 
 motlicr liaiulsomely for lier board ; and when her little gloves 
 and milliner's bills were settled — how much was there left 
 out of two hundred a-ycar ? And she cried when she 
 heard that Hicks had lent Sir Thomas money, and went 
 up and said, " Thank you, Captain Hicks ; " and shook 
 hands with the Captain so eagerly, that I thought he 
 was a lucky fellow, Avho had a father a wealthy attorney 
 in Bedford Row. Heigh ho ! I saAv how matters were 
 going. The birds must sing in the spring-time, and the 
 flowers bud. 
 
 Mrs. Milliken, in her character of invalid, took the 
 advantage of her situation to have her husband constantly 
 about her, reading to her, or fetching the doctor to her, or 
 watching her whilst she was dozing, and so forth ; and Lady 
 Kicklebury found the life which this pair led rather more 
 monotonous than that sort of existence which she liked, and 
 would leave them alone with Fanny (Captain Hicks not un- 
 commonly coming in to take tea with the three), whilst her 
 ladyship went to the Redoute to hear the music, or read the 
 papers, or play a game of whist there. 
 
 The newspaper room at Noirbourg is next to the roulette 
 room, into which the doors are always open; and Lady K. 
 would come, with newspaper in hand, into this play-room, 
 sometimes, and look on at the gamesters. I have mentioned
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 75 
 
 a little Russian boy, a little imp with the most mischievous 
 intelligence and good humour in his face, who was suffered 
 by his parents to play as much as he chose ; and who pulled 
 bonbons out of one pocket and Napoleons out of the other, 
 and seemed to have quite a diabolical luck at the table. 
 
 Lady Kicklebury's terror and interest, at seeing this boy, 
 were extreme. She watched him and watched him, and he 
 seemed always to win; and at last her ladyship put down 
 just a florin — only just one florin — on one of the numbers at 
 roulette which the little Russian imp was backing. Number 
 twenty-seven came up, and the croupiers flung over tliree 
 gold pieces and five florins to Lady Kicklebury, which she 
 raked up Avith a trembling hand. 
 
 She did not play any more that night, but sate in the play- 
 room, pretending to read the Times newspaper ; but you 
 could see her eye peering over the sheet, and always fixed on 
 the little imp of a Russian. He had very good luck that 
 night, and his wiiming made her very savage. As he retired, 
 rolling his gold pieces into his pocket and sucking his barley- 
 sugar, she glared after him with angry eyes ; and went home, 
 and scolded everybody, and had no sleep. I could hear her 
 scolding. Our apartments in the Tissisch house overlooked 
 Lady Kicklebury's suite of rooms : the great windows were 
 open in the Autumn. Yes; I could hear her scolding, and
 
 76 THE KICKLEBUllYS 0\ THE RHINE. 
 
 sec some other people sitting Avhispering in the embrasure, or 
 looking out on tlie harvest moon. 
 
 The next evening, Lady Kicklebury shirked away from 
 the concert ; and I saw her in the play-room again, going 
 round and round the tal)lc ; and, lying in ambush behind the 
 Journal des Debats, I marked how, after looking stealthily 
 round, my lady whipped a piece of money under the croupier's 
 elbow, and (there having been no coin there previously) I saw 
 a florin on the Zero. 
 
 She lost that, and walked away. Then she came back 
 and put down two florins on a number, and lost again, and 
 became very red and angry; then she retreated, and came 
 back a third time, and a seat being vacated by a player, Lady 
 Kicklebury sate down at the verdant board. Ah me ! She 
 had a pretty good evening, and carried oflf a little money 
 again that night. The next day was Sunday : she gave two 
 florins at the collection at Church, to Fanny^s surprise at 
 Mamma's liberality. On this night of course there was no 
 play. Her ladyship wrote letters, and read a sermon. 
 
 But the next night she was back at the table; and won 
 very plentifully, until the little Russian sprite made his ap- 
 pearance, when it seemed that her luck changed. She began 
 to bet upon him, and the young Calmuck lost too. Her 
 ladyship's temper went along with her money : first she
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 77 
 
 backed the Calmuck, and then she played against him. 
 When she played against him, his luck turned ; and he be- 
 gan straightway to win. She put on more and more money 
 as she lost : her winnings went : gold came out of secret 
 pockets. She had but a florin left at last, and tried it on a 
 number, and failed. She got up to go away. I watched her, 
 and I watched Mr. Justice ^Eacus, too, who put down a 
 Napoleon w^hen he thought nobody was looking. 
 
 The next day my Lady Kicklebury walked over to the 
 money changers, where she changed a couple of circular 
 notes. She Avas at the table that night again : and the next 
 night, and the next night, and the next. 
 
 By about the fifth day she was like a Avild woman. She 
 scolded so, that Hirsch, the courier, said he should retire 
 from monsieur's service, as he was not hired by Lady Kickle- 
 b\u'y : that Bowman gave warning, and told another footman 
 in the building that he would n't stand the old cat no longer, 
 blow him if he would : that the maid (who was a Kicklebury 
 girl) and Fanny cried : and that Mrs. Milliken's maid. Finch, 
 complained to her mistress, who ordered her husband to re- 
 monstrate with her mother. Milliken remonstrated with his 
 usual mildness, and, of course, was routed by her ladyship. 
 Mrs. Milliken said, " Give me the daggers," and came to 
 her husband's rescue. A battle roval ensued. The scared
 
 78 Tin; KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 Millikcn hanging about liis blessed Lavinia^ and entreating 
 and imploring her to be calm. !Mrs. JNIilliken was calm. She 
 asserted her dignity as mistress of her own family : as con- 
 troller of her own household, as wife of her adored husband ; 
 and she told her mamma, that with her or hers she must not 
 interfere ; that she knew her duty as a child : but that she 
 
 also knew it as a wife, as a The rest of the sentence 
 
 was drowned as Millikcn, rushing to her, called her his soul's 
 angel, his adored blessing. 
 
 Lady Kicklebury remarked that Shakspeare was veiy right 
 in stating how much sharper than a thankless tooth it is to 
 have a serpent child. 
 
 Mrs. ]\Iilliken said, the conversation could not be carried 
 on in this manner : that it was best her mamma should now 
 know, once for all, that the way in which she assumed the 
 command at Pigeoncot was intolerable ; that all the servants 
 had given warning, and it was with the greatest difficulty 
 they could be soothed : and that, as their living together only 
 led to quarrels and painful recriminations (the calling her, 
 after her forbearance, a serpent child, was an expression whicli 
 she would hope to forgive and forget), they had better part. 
 
 Lady Kicklebury wears a front, and, I make no doubt, a 
 complete jasey; or she certainly would have let down her 
 back hair at this minute, so overpowering were her feelings,
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 79 
 
 and so bitter her indignation at licr daughter's black ingrati- 
 tude. She intimated some of her sentiments, by ejaculatory 
 conjurations of evil. She hoped her daughter might not feel 
 what ingratitude was ; that she might never have childi'cn to 
 turn on her and bring her to the grave with grief. 
 
 " Bring me to the grave with fiddle-stick \" Mrs. Milliken 
 said with some asperity. *^'And, as we are going to part. 
 Mamma, and as Horace has paid everything on the journey 
 as yet, and we have only brought a very few circular notes 
 with us, perhaps you will have the kindness to give him your 
 share of the travelling expenses; for you, for Fanny, and 
 youi" two servants whom you ivould bring with you : and the 
 man has only been a perfect hindrance and great useless log, 
 and our courier has had to do everything. Your share is 
 now eighty-two pounds.'' 
 
 Lady Kicklebury at this gave three screams, so loud that 
 even the resolute Lavinia stopped in her speech. Her lady- 
 ship looked wildly : " Lavinia ! Horace ! Fanny, my child," 
 she said, " come here, and listen to your mother's shame." 
 
 ^^What?" cried Horace, aghast. 
 
 " I am ruined ! I am a beggar ! Yes ; a beggar. I have 
 lost all — all at yonder dreadful table." 
 
 "How do you mean all? How much is all?" asked 
 Horace.
 
 80 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 
 
 " All the money I brought with me, Horace. I intended 
 to have paid the whole expenses of the journey : yours, this 
 ungrateful child's — everything. But, a Aveek ago, having 
 seen a lovely baby's lace dress at the lace-shop ; and — and — 
 won enough at wh-wh-whoo-ist to pay for it, all but two-two 
 florins — in an evil moment I went to the roulette table — and 
 lost — every shilling : and now, on my knees before you, I 
 confess my shame." 
 
 I am not a tragic painter, and certainly Avon't attempt to 
 despiet this harrowing scene. But what could she mean by 
 saying she wished to pay everything ? She had but two 
 twenty-pound notes : and how she was to have paid all the 
 expenses of the tour with that small sum, I cannot conjec- 
 ture. 
 
 The confession, however, had the effect of mollifying poor 
 Milliken and his wife : after the latter had learned that her 
 mamma had no money at all at her London bankers', and had 
 overdrawn her account there, Lavinia consented that Horace 
 should advance her fifty pounds upon her ladyship's solemn 
 promise of repayment. 
 
 And now it was agreed that this highly respectable lady 
 should return to England, quick as she might : somcAvhat 
 sooner than all the rest of the public did ; and leaA^e Mr. and 
 Mrs. Horace Milliken behind her, as the waters were still
 
 TIIK KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 81 
 
 considered higlily salutary to that most interesting invalid. 
 And to England Lady Kicklebury went; taking advantage 
 of Lord Talboys' return tliitlier to place herself under his 
 lordship's protection; as if the enormous Bowman was not 
 protector sufficient for her ladyship ; and as if Captain Hicks 
 would have allowed any mortal man, any German student, 
 any French tourist, any Prussian whiskerado, to do a harm 
 to Miss Fanny ! For though Hicks is not a brilliant or 
 poetical genius, 1 am bound to say that the fellow has good 
 sense^ good manners, and a good heart, and with these quali- 
 ties, a competent sum of money, and a pair of exceedingly 
 handsome mustaches, perhaps the poor little Mrs. Laimcelot 
 Hicks may be happy. 
 
 No accident befel Lady Kicklebury on her voyage home- 
 wards : but she got one more lesson at Aix la Chapelle, 
 which may serve to make her ladyship more cautious for the 
 future ; for, seeing Madame la Princesse de Mogador enter 
 into a carriage on the railway, into which Lord Talboys 
 followed, nothing would content Lady Kicklebury, but to 
 rush into the carriage after this noble pair; and the vehicle 
 turned out to be, what is called on the German lines, and 
 what I wish were established in England, the Ranch Coupe. 
 Having seated himself in this vehicle, and looked rather 
 
 G
 
 82 Tin; KICKLEBURYS ON TIIK UHINE. 
 
 sulkily at my lady, Lord Talboys began to smoke ; which, as 
 the son of an Eng:lish earl, heir to many thousands per 
 annum, Lady Kicklchury permitted him to do. And she 
 introduced herself to Madame la Princesse de Mogador, men- 
 tioning to her Highness that she had the pleasure of meet- 
 ing Madame la Princesse at Rougctnoirbourg ; that she. 
 Lady K., was the mother of the Chevalier de Kicklebury, 
 who had the advantage of the acquaintance of Madame la 
 Princesse ; and that she hoped Madame la Princesse had 
 enjo3'ed her stay at the waters. To these advances, the 
 Princess of Mogador retui'ned a gracious and affable saluta- 
 tion, exchanging glances of peculiar meaning with two highly 
 respectable bearded gentlemen who travelled in her suite; 
 and, when asked by milady whereabouts her Highnesses 
 residence was at Paris, said that her hotel was in the Rue 
 Notre Dame de Lorette : where Lady Kicklebury hoped to have 
 the honour of waiting upon Madame la Princesse de Mogador, 
 
 But when one of the bearded gentlemen called the Princess 
 by the familiar name of Fifine, and the other said, "Veux 
 tu fumer, Mogador P^' and the Princess actually took a 
 cigar and began to smoke. Lady Kicklebury was aghast, and 
 trembled ; and presently Lord Talboys burst into a loud fit of 
 laughter. 
 
 ''What is the cause of your lordship's amusement?" asked
 
 THE PRINCESS OF MOGADOR.
 
 THE KlCivLEBUKYS 0.\ TllK KlllNi;. 83 
 
 the dowager, looking very mucli frightened, and blushing 
 like a maiden of sixteen. 
 
 " Excuse me, Lady Kicklebury, but I can't help it," he 
 said. " You ^ve been talking to your opposite neighbour, 
 she don't understand a word of English, and calling her 
 princess, and highness, and she 's no more a princess than 
 vou or I. She is a little milliner in the street she mentioned, 
 and she dances at Mabille and Chateau Rouge.'^ 
 
 Hearing these two familiar names, the princess looked 
 hard at Lord Talboys, but he never lost countenance; and 
 at the next station Lady Kicklebury rushed out of the smok- 
 ing carriage, and returned to her own place; where, I dare 
 say, Captain Hicks and Miss Fanny were delighted once more 
 to have the advantage of her company and conversation. 
 And so they went back to England, and the Kickleburys 
 were no longer seen on the Rhine. If her ladyship is not 
 cured of hunting after great people, it will not be for want 
 of warning : but which of us in life has not had many warn- 
 ings ; and is it for lack of them that we stick to our little 
 failings still ? 
 
 When the Kickleburys were gone, that merry little 
 Rouge tnoirbourg did not seem the same place to me, some- 
 how. The sun shone still, but the wind came down cold 
 
 G 2
 
 84 THE IvlCKLEUUKYS ON TlIK lUllNE. 
 
 from the purple hills; the baud played, but their tuues were 
 stale ; the promenaders paced the alleys, but I kuew all their 
 faces : as I looked out of my wiudows iu the Tissisch house 
 upou the great blauk casements lately occupied by the Kickle- 
 b u'ys, aud remembered what a pretty face I had seen look- 
 ing thence but a few days back, I cared not to look any 
 longer ; and though Mrs. Milliken did invite me to tea, and 
 talked fine arts and poetry over the meal, both the beverage 
 and the conversation seemed very weak and insipid to me, 
 and I fell asleep once in my chair opposite that highly cul- 
 tivated being. " Let us go back, Lankin,^^ said I to the 
 Serjeant, and he was nothing loth; for most of the other 
 Serjeants, barristers, and Queen^s counsel were turning home- 
 wards, by this time, the period of term time summoning them 
 all to the Temple. 
 
 So we w^ent straight one day to Biberich on the Rhine ; 
 and found the little town full of Britons, all trooping home 
 like ourselves. Everbody comes, and everybody goes away 
 again, at about the same time. The Rhine innkeepers 
 say, that their customers cease with a single day almost : 
 — that in three days they shall have ninety, eighty, a hun- 
 dred guests; on the fom'th, ten, or eight. We do as our 
 neighbours do. Though we do n't speak to each other much
 
 - 
 
 55 
 
 
 i|^
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 85 
 
 when we are out a-pleasuring, we take our holiday in common, 
 and go bade to our work in gangs. Little Biberich was so 
 full, that L aikin and I could not get rooms at the large inns 
 frequented by other persons of fashion, and could only procure 
 a room between vis, " at the German House, where you find 
 English comfort,^' says the advertisement, '' with German 
 prices." 
 
 But O, the English comfort of those beds ! How did 
 Lankin manage in his, with his great long legs ? How did 
 I toss and tumble in mine ; which, small as it was, I was not 
 destined to enjoy alone, but to pass the night in company 
 with anthropophagous wretched reptiles, who took their 
 horrid meal off an English Christian ! I thought the morn- 
 ing would never come ; and when the tardy da^vn at 
 length arrived, and as I was in my first sleep, dreaming 
 of Miss Fanny,- behold I was wakened up by the Serjeant, 
 already dressed and shaven, and who said, " Rise, Titmarsh, 
 the steamer will be here in three-quarters of an hom\^^ And 
 the modest gentleman retired, and left me to dress. 
 
 The next morning we had passed by the rocks and towers, 
 the old familiar landscapes, the gleaming towns by the river 
 side, and tlie green vineyards combed along the hills, and
 
 86 THE Kl(.'Kl.V:i$UUVS ON THK lilllNi;. 
 
 when I woke up, it was at a great hotel at Cologue, and it 
 was not sunrise yet. 
 
 Deutz lay opposite, and over Deutz the dusky sky was 
 reddened. The hills were veiled in the mist and the grey. 
 The grey river flowed underneath us ; the steamers were 
 roosting along the quays, a light keeping watch in the cabins 
 here and there, and its reflections quivering in the water. As 
 1 look, the sky line towards the east grows redder and redder. 
 A long troop of grey horsemen winds down the river road, and 
 passes over the bridge of boats. You might take them for 
 ghosts, those grey horsemen, so shadowy do they look ; but 
 you hear the trample of their hoofs as they pass over the 
 planks. Every minute the dawn twinkles up into the twi- 
 light ; and over Deutz the heaven blushes brighter. The quays 
 begin to fill with men : the carts begin to creak and rattle : 
 and wake the sleeping echoes. Ding, ding, ding, the steamers' 
 bells begin to ring : the people on board to stir and wake : the 
 lights may be extinguished, and take their turn of sleep : 
 the active boats shake themselves, and push out into the 
 river : the great bridge opens, and gives them passage : the 
 church bells of the city begin to clink : the cavalry trumpets 
 blow from the opposite bank : the sailor is at the wheel, the 
 porter at his burthen, the soldier at his musket, and the 
 priest at his prayers
 
 THE KICKLEBURYS ON THE RHINE. 87 
 
 And lo ! in a flasli of crimson splendour, with blazing 
 scarlet clouds running before his chariot, and heralding his 
 majestic approach, God^s sun rises upon the world, and all 
 nature wakens and brightens. 
 
 O glorious spectacle of light and life ! O beatific symbol 
 of Power, Love, Joy, Beauty ! Let us look at thee with 
 humble wonder, and thankfully acknowledge and adore. 
 What gracious forethought is it — what generous and loving 
 provision, that deigns to prepare for our eyes and to soothe 
 our hearts with such a splendid morning festival ! For these 
 magnificent bounties of Heaven to us, let us be thankful, 
 even that we can feel thankful; (for thanks siu'cly is the 
 noblest effort, as it is the greatest delight, of the gentle soul,) 
 and so, a grace for this feast, let all say who partake of it. 
 
 See ! the mist clears off Drachenfels, and it looks out 
 from the distance, and Inds us a friendly farewell. Fare- 
 well to holiday and sunshine ; farewell to kindly sport and 
 pleasant leisure ! Let us say good bye to the Rhine, friend. 
 Fogs, and cares, and labour are awaiting us by the Thames ; 
 and a kind face or two looking out for us to cheer and bid us 
 welcome. 
 
 DALZIEL BROTHERS, CAMDKN PRESS, LOXDON.
 
 SMITH, ELDER, AND CO. 
 
 MR. THACKERAY. 
 The History of Pendennis. His Fortunes and 
 
 Mist'ortuiu^s, his Friends, aud his Greatest- Kuemies. With llkistra- 
 tions on Steel and Wood by the Author. 2 vols. Demy 8vo. 26s. 
 
 The Ne-wcomes. Memoirs of a most Respectable 
 
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