The World's Greatest Books - Volume 7 Part 1

The World's Greatest Books.

Vol VII.

by Various.

THOMAS LOVE PEAc.o.c.k

Headlong Hall

The novels of Thomas Love Peac.o.c.k still find admirers among cultured readers, but his extravagant satire and a certain bookish awkwardness will never appeal to the great novel-reading public. The son of a London gla.s.s merchant, Peac.o.c.k was born at Weymouth on October 18, 1785. Early in life he was engaged in some mercantile occupation, which, however, he did not follow up for long. Then came a period of study, and he became an excellent cla.s.sical scholar. His first ambition was to become a poet, and between 1804 and 1806 he published two slender volumes of verse, which attracted little or no attention. Yet Peac.o.c.k was a poet of considerable merit, his best work in this direction being scattered at random throughout his novels. In 1812 he contracted a friendship with Sh.e.l.ley, whose executor he became with Lord Byron. Peac.o.c.k's first novel, "Headlong Hall," appeared in 1816, and is interesting not so much as a story pure and simple, but as a study of the author's own temperament. His personalities are seldom real live characters; they are, rather, mouthpieces created for the purposes of discussion. Peac.o.c.k died on January 23, 1866.

_I.--The Philosophers_

The ambiguous light of a December morning, peeping through the windows of the Holyhead mail, dispelled the soft visions of the four insides, who had slept, or seemed to sleep, through the first seventy miles of the road.

A lively remark that the day was none of the finest having elicited a repartee of "quite the contrary," the various knotty points of meteorology were successively discussed and exhausted; and, the ice being thus broken, in the course of conversation it appeared that all four, though perfect strangers to each other, were actually bound to the same point, namely, Headlong Hall, the seat of the ancient family of the Headlongs, of the vale of Llanberris, in Carnarvonshire.

The present representative of the house, Harry Headlong, Esquire, was, like all other Welsh squires, fond of shooting, hunting, racing, drinking, and other such innocent amus.e.m.e.nts. But, unlike other Welsh squires, he had actually suffered books to find their way into his house; and, by dint of lounging over them after dinner, he became seized with a violent pa.s.sion to be thought a philosopher and a man of taste, and had formed in London as extensive an acquaintance with philosophers and dilettanti as his utmost ambition could desire. It now became his chief wish to have them all together in Headlong Hall, arguing over his old Port and Burgundy the various knotty points which puzzled him. He had, therefore, sent them invitations in due form to pa.s.s their Christmas at Headlong Hall, and four of the chosen guests were now on their way in the four corners of the Holyhead mail.

These four persons were Mr. Foster, the optimist, who believed in the improvement of mankind; Mr. Escot, the pessimist, who saw mankind constantly deteriorating; Mr. Jenkison, who thought things were very well as they were; and the Reverend Doctor Gaster, who, though neither a philosopher nor a man of taste, had won the squire's fancy by a learned dissertation on the art of stuffing a turkey.

In the midst of an animated conversation the coach stopped, and the coachman, opening the door, vociferated: "Breakfast, gentlemen," a sound which so gladdened the ears of the divine, that the alacrity with which he sprang from the vehicle distorted his ankle, and he was obliged to limp into the inn between Mr. Escot and Mr. Jenkison, the former observing that he ought to look for nothing but evil and, therefore, should not be surprised at this little accident; the latter remarking that the comfort of a good breakfast and the pain of a sprained ankle pretty exactly balanced each other.

The morning being extremely cold, the doctor contrived to be seated as near the fire as was consistent with his other object of having a perfect command of the table and its apparatus, which consisted not only of the ordinary comforts of tea and toast, but of a delicious supply of new-laid eggs and a magnificent round of beef; against which Mr. Escot immediately pointed all the artillery of his eloquence, declaring the use of animal food, conjointly with that of fire, to be one of the princ.i.p.al causes of the present degeneracy of mankind.

"The natural and original man," said he, "lived in the woods; the roots and fruits of the earth supplied his simple nutriment; he had few desires, and no diseases. But, when he began to sacrifice victims on the altar of superst.i.tion, to pursue the goat and the deer, and, by the pernicious invention of fire, to pervert their flesh into food, luxury, disease, and premature death were let loose upon the world. From that period the stature of mankind has been in a state of gradual diminution, and I have not the least doubt that it will continue to grow _small by degrees, and lamentably less_, till the whole race will vanish imperceptibly from the face of the earth."

"I cannot agree," said Mr. Foster, "in the consequences being so very disastrous, though I admit that in some respects the use of animal food r.e.t.a.r.ds the perfectibility of the species."

"In the controversy concerning animal and vegetable food," said Mr.

Jenkison, "there is much to be said on both sides. I content myself with a mixed diet, and make a point of eating whatever is placed before me, provided it be good in its kind."

In this opinion his two brother philosophers practically coincided, though they both ran down the theory as highly detrimental to the best interests of man.

The discussion raged for some time on the question whether man was a carnivorous or frugivorous animal.

"I am no anatomist," said Mr. Jenkison, "and cannot decide where doctors disagree; in the meantime, I conclude that man is omnivorous, and on that conclusion I act."

"Your conclusion is truly orthodox," said the Reverend Doctor Gaster; "indeed, the loaves and fishes are typical of a mixed diet; and the practise of the church in all ages shows----"

"That it never loses sight of the loaves and fishes," said Mr. Escot.

"It never loses sight of any point of sound doctrine," said the reverend doctor.

The coachman now informed them their time was elapsed.

"You will allow," said Mr. Foster, as soon as they were again in motion, "that the wild man of the woods could not transport himself over two hundred miles of forest with as much facility as one of these vehicles transports you and me."

"I am certain," said Mr. Escot, "that a wild man can travel an immense distance without fatigue; but what is the advantage of locomotion? The wild man is happy in one spot, and there he remains; the civilised man is wretched in every place he happens to be in, and then congratulates himself on being accommodated with a machine that will whirl him to another, where he will be just as miserable as ever."

_II.--The Squire and his Guests_

Squire Headlong, in the meanwhile, was superintending operations in four scenes of action at the Hall--the cellar, the library, the picture-gallery, and the dining-room-preparing for the reception of his philosophical visitors. His myrmidon on this occasion was a little, red-nosed butler, who waddled about the house after his master, while the latter bounced from room to room like a cracker. Mult.i.tudes of packages had arrived by land and water, from London, and Liverpool, and Chester, and Manchester, and various parts of the mountains; books, wine, cheese, mathematical instruments, turkeys, figs, soda-water, fiddles, flutes, tea, sugar, eggs, French horns, sofas, chairs, tables, carpets, beds, fruits, looking-gla.s.ses, nuts, drawing-books, bottled ale, pickles, and fish sauce, patent lamps, barrels of oysters, lemons, and jars of Portugal grapes. These, arriving in succession, and with infinite rapidity, had been deposited at random--as the convenience of the moment dictated--sofas in the cellar, hampers of ale in the drawing-room, and fiddles and fish-sauce in the library. The servants unpacking all these in furious haste, and flying with them from place to place, tumbled over one another upstairs and down. All was bustle, uproar, and confusion; yet nothing seemed to advance, while the rage and impetuosity of the squire continued fermenting to the highest degree of exasperation, which he signified, from time to time, by converting some newly-unpacked article, such as a book, a bottle, a ham, or a fiddle, into a missile against the head of some unfortunate servant.

In the midst of this scene of confusion thrice confounded, arrived the lovely Caprioletta Headlong, the squire's sister, whom he had sent for to do the honours of his house, beaming like light on chaos, to arrange disorder and harmonise discord. The tempestuous spirit of her brother became as smooth as the surface of the lake of Llanberris, and in less than twenty-four hours after her arrival, everything was disposed in its proper station, and the squire began to be all impatience for the appearance of his promised guests.

The first visitor was Marmaduke Milestone, Esq., a picturesque landscape gardener of the first celebrity, who promised himself the glorious achievement of polishing and tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the rocks of Llanberris.

A postchaise brought the Reverend Doctor Gaster, and then came the three philosophers.

The next arrival was that of Mr. Cranium and his lovely daughter, Miss Cephalis Cranium, who flew to the arms of her dear friend Caprioletta.

Miss Cephalis blushed like a carnation at the sight of Mr. Escot, and Mr. Escot glowed like a corn-poppy at the sight of Miss Cephalis.

Mr. Escot had formerly been the received lover of Miss Cephalis, till he incurred the indignation of her father by laughing at a very profound dissertation which the old gentleman delivered.

Next arrived a postchaise containing four insides. These personages were two very profound critics, Mr. Gall and Mr. Treacle, and two very mult.i.tudinous versifiers, Mr. Nightshade and Mr. McLaurel.

The last arrivals were Mr. Cornelius Chromatic, the most scientific of all amateurs of the fiddle, with his two blooming daughters, Miss Tenorina and Miss Graziosa; Sir Patrick O'Prism, a dilettante painter of high renown, and his maiden aunt, Miss Philomela Poppyseed, a compounder of novels written for the express purpose of supporting every species of superst.i.tion and prejudice; and Mr. Panscope, the chemical, botanical, geological, astronomical, critical philosopher, who had run through the whole circle of the sciences and understood them all equally well.

Mr. Milestone was impatient to take a walk round the grounds, that he might examine how far the system of clumping and levelling could be carried advantageously into effect; and several of the party supporting the proposition, with Squire Headlong and Mr. Milestone leading the van, they commenced their perambulation.

_III.--The Tower and the Skull_

The result of Mr. Milestone's eloquence was that he and the squire set out again, immediately after breakfast next morning, to examine the capabilities of the scenery. The object that most attracted Mr.

Milestone's admiration was a ruined tower on a projecting point of rock, almost totally overgrown with ivy. This ivy, Mr. Milestone observed, required tr.i.m.m.i.n.g and clearing in various parts; a little pointing and polishing was necessary for the dilapidated walls; and the whole effect would be materially increased by a plantation of spruce fir, the present rugged and broken ascent being first converted into a beautiful slope, which might be easily effected by blowing up a part of the rock with gunpowder, laying on a quant.i.ty of fine mould, and covering the whole with an elegant stratum of turf.

Squire Headlong caught with avidity at this suggestion, and as he had always a store of gunpowder in the house, he insisted on commencing operations immediately. Accordingly, he bounded back to the house and speedily returned, accompanied by the little butler and half a dozen servants and labourers with pickaxes and gunpowder, a hanging stove, and a poker, together with a basket of cold meat and two or three bottles of Madeira.

Mr. Milestone superintended the proceedings. The rock was excavated, the powder introduced, the apertures strongly blockaded with fragments of stone; a long train was laid to a spot sufficiently remote from the possibility of harm, and the squire seized the poker, and applied the end of it to the train.

At this critical moment Mr. Cranium and Mr. Panscope appeared at the top of the tower, which, unseeing and unseen, they had ascended on the opposite side to that where the squire and Mr. Milestone were conducting their operations. Their sudden appearance a little dismayed the squire, who, however, comforted himself with the reflection that the tower was perfectly safe, and that his friends were in no probable danger but of a knock on the head from a flying fragment of stone.

The explosion took place, and the shattered rock was hurled into the air in the midst of fire and smoke. The tower remained untouched, but the influence of sudden fear had so violent an effect on Mr. Cranium, that he lost his balance, and alighted in an ivy bush, which, giving way beneath him, transferred him to a tuft of hazel at its base, which consigned him to the boughs of an ash that had rooted itself in a fissure about halfway down the rock, which finally transmitted him to the waters of the lake.

Squire Headlong anxiously watched the tower as the smoke rolled away; but when the shadowy curtain was withdrawn, and Mr. Panscope was discovered, alone, in a tragical att.i.tude, his apprehensions became boundless, and he concluded that a flying fragment of rock had killed Mr. Cranium.

Mr. Escot arrived at the scene of the disaster just as Mr. Cranium, utterly dest.i.tute of the art of swimming, was in imminent danger of drowning. Mr. Escot immediately plunged in to his a.s.sistance, and brought him alive and in safety to a shelving part of the sh.o.r.e. Their landing was hailed with a shout from the delighted squire, who, shaking them both heartily by the hand, and making ten thousand lame apologies to Mr. Cranium, concluded by asking, in a pathetic tone, "How much water he had swallowed?" and without waiting for his answer, filled a large tumbler with Madeira, and insisted on his tossing it off, which was no sooner said than done. Mr. Panscope descended the tower, which he vowed never again to approach within a quarter of a mile.

The squire took care that Mr. Cranium should be seated next to him at dinner, and plied him so hard with Madeira, to prevent him, as he said, from taking cold, that long before the ladies sent in their summons to coffee, the squire was under the necessity of ringing for three or four servants to carry him to bed, observing, with a smile of great satisfaction, that he was in a very excellent way for escaping any ill consequences that might have resulted from his accident.

The beautiful Cephalis, being thus freed from his surveillance, was enabled, during the course of the evening, to develop to his preserver the full extent of her grat.i.tude.