CHAPTER XII.
SCOTLAND, IRELAND, AND ENGLAND.
Let us note a circumstance. Josiana had _le tour_.
This is easy to understand when we reflect that she was, althoughillegitimate, the queen's sister--that is to say, a princely personage.
To have _le tour_--what does it mean?
Viscount St. John, otherwise Bolingbroke, wrote as follows to ThomasLennard, Earl of Sussex:--
"Two things mark the great--in England, they have _le tour;_ in France,_le pour_."
When the King of France travelled, the courier of the court stopped atthe halting-place in the evening, and assigned lodgings to his Majesty'ssuite.
Amongst the gentlemen some had an immense privilege. "They have _lepour_" says the _Journal Historique_ for the year 1694, page 6; "whichmeans that the courier who marks the billets puts '_pour_' before theirnames--as, '_Pour_ M. le Prince de Soubise;' instead of which, when hemarks the lodging of one who is not royal, he does not put _pour_, butsimply the name--as, 'Le Duc de Gesvres, le Duc de Mazarin.'" This_pour_ on a door indicated a prince or a favourite. A favourite is worsethan a prince. The king granted _le pour_, like a blue ribbon or apeerage.
_Avoir le tour_ in England was less glorious but more real. It was asign of intimate communication with the sovereign. Whoever might be, bybirth or favour, in a position to receive direct communications frommajesty, had in the wall of their bedchamber a shaft in which wasadjusted a bell. The bell sounded, the shaft opened, a royal missiveappeared on a gold plate or on a cushion of velvet, and the shaftclosed. This was intimate and solemn, the mysterious in the familiar.The shaft was used for no other purpose. The sound of the bell announceda royal message. No one saw who brought it. It was of course merely thepage of the king or the queen. Leicester _avait le tour_ underElizabeth; Buckingham under James I. Josiana had it under Anne, thoughnot much in favour. Never was a privilege more envied.
This privilege entailed additional servility. The recipient was more ofa servant. At court that which elevates, degrades. _Avoir le tour_ wassaid in French; this circumstance of English etiquette having, probably,been borrowed from some old French folly.
Lady Josiana, a virgin peeress as Elizabeth had been a virgin queen,led--sometimes in the City, and sometimes in the country, according tothe season--an almost princely life, and kept nearly a court, at whichLord David was courtier, with many others.
Not being married, Lord David and Lady Josiana could show themselvestogether in public without exciting ridicule, and they did sofrequently. They often went to plays and racecourses in the samecarriage, and sat together in the same box. They were chilled by theimpending marriage, which was not only permitted to them, but imposedupon them; but they felt an attraction for each other's society. Theprivacy permitted to the engaged has a frontier easily passed. From thisthey abstained; that which is easy is in bad taste.
The best pugilistic encounters then took place at Lambeth, a parish inwhich the Lord Archbishop of Canterbury has a palace though the airthere is unhealthy, and a rich library open at certain hours to decentpeople.
One evening in winter there was in a meadow there, the gates of whichwere locked, a fight, at which Josiana, escorted by Lord David, waspresent. She had asked,--
"Are women admitted?"
And David had responded,--
"_Sunt faeminae magnates!_"
Liberal translation, "Not shopkeepers." Literal translation, "Greatladies exist. A duchess goes everywhere!"
This is why Lady Josiana saw a boxing match.
Lady Josiana made only this concession to propriety--she dressed as aman, a very common custom at that period. Women seldom travelledotherwise. Out of every six persons who travelled by the coach fromWindsor, it was rare that there were not one or two amongst them whowere women in male attire; a certain sign of high birth.
Lord David, being in company with a woman, could not take any part inthe match himself, and merely assisted as one of the audience.
Lady Josiana betrayed her quality in one way; she had an opera-glass,then used by gentlemen only.
This encounter in the noble science was presided over by Lord Germaine,great-grandfather, or grand-uncle, of that Lord Germaine who, towardsthe end of the eighteenth century, was colonel, ran away in a battle,was afterwards made Minister of War, and only escaped from the bolts ofthe enemy, to fall by a worse fate, shot through and through by thesarcasm of Sheridan.
Many gentlemen were betting. Harry Bellew, of Carleton, who had claimsto the extinct peerage of Bella-aqua, with Henry, Lord Hyde, member ofParliament for the borough of Dunhivid, which is also called Launceston;the Honourable Peregrine Bertie, member for the borough of Truro, withSir Thomas Colpepper, member for Maidstone; the Laird of Lamyrbau, whichis on the borders of Lothian, with Samuel Trefusis, of the borough ofPenryn; Sir Bartholomew Gracedieu, of the borough of Saint Ives, withthe Honourable Charles Bodville, who was called Lord Robartes, and whowas Custos Rotulorum of the county of Cornwall; besides many others.
Of the two combatants, one was an Irishman, named after his nativemountain in Tipperary, Phelem-ghe-Madone, and the other a Scot, namedHelmsgail.
They represented the national pride of each country. Ireland andScotland were about to set to; Erin was going to fisticuff Gajothel. Sothat the bets amounted to over forty thousand guineas, besides thestakes.
The two champions were naked, excepting short breeches buckled over thehips, and spiked boots laced as high as the ankles.
Helmsgail, the Scot, was a youth scarcely nineteen, but he had alreadyhad his forehead sewn up, for which reason they laid 2 1/3 to 1 on him.The month before he had broken the ribs and gouged out the eyes of apugilist named Sixmileswater. This explained the enthusiasm he created.He had won his backers twelve thousand pounds. Besides having hisforehead sewn up Helmsgail's jaw had been broken. He was neatly made andactive. He was about the height of a small woman, upright, thick-set,and of a stature low and threatening. And nothing had been lost of theadvantages given him by nature; not a muscle which was not trained toits object, pugilism. His firm chest was compact, and brown and shininglike brass. He smiled, and three teeth which he had lost added to hissmile.
His adversary was tall and overgrown--that is to say, weak.
He was a man of forty years of age, six feet high, with the chest of ahippopotamus, and a mild expression of face. The blow of his fist wouldbreak in the deck of a vessel, but he did not know how to use it.
The Irishman, Phelem-ghe-Madone, was all surface, and seemed to haveentered the ring to receive rather than to give blows. Only it was feltthat he would take a deal of punishment. Like underdone beef, tough tochew, and impossible to swallow. He was what was termed, in local slang,raw meat. He squinted. He seemed resigned.
The two men had passed the preceding night in the same bed, and hadslept together. They had each drunk port wine from the same glass, tothe three-inch mark.
Each had his group of seconds--men of savage expression, threatening theumpires when it suited their side. Amongst Helmsgail's supporters was tobe seen John Gromane, celebrated for having carried an ox on his back;and one called John Bray, who had once carried on his back ten bushelsof flour, at fifteen pecks to the bushel, besides the miller himself,and had walked over two hundred paces under the weight. On the side ofPhelem-ghe-Madone, Lord Hyde had brought from Launceston a certainKilter, who lived at Green Castle, and could throw a stone weighingtwenty pounds to a greater height than the highest tower of the castle.
These three men, Kilter, Bray, and Gromane, were Cornishmen by birth,and did honour to their county.
The other seconds were brutal fellows, with broad backs, bowed legs,knotted fists, dull faces; ragged, fearing nothing, nearly alljail-birds.
Many of them understood admirably how to make the police drunk. Eachprofession should have its peculiar talents.
The field chosen was farther off than the bear garden, where theyformerly baited bears, bulls, and dogs; it was beyond the line of thefarthest
houses, by the side of the ruins of the Priory of Saint MaryOvery, dismantled by Henry VIII. The wind was northerly, and biting; asmall rain fell, which was instantly frozen into ice. Some gentlemenpresent were evidently fathers of families, recognized as such by theirputting up their umbrellas.
On the side of Phelem-ghe-Madone was Colonel Moncreif, as umpire; andKilter, as second, to support him on his knee.
On the side of Helmsgail, the Honourable Pughe Beaumaris was umpire,with Lord Desertum, from Kilcarry, as bottle-holder, to support him onhis knee.
The two combatants stood for a few seconds motionless in the ring,whilst the watches were being compared. They then approached each otherand shook hands.
Phelem-ghe-Madone said to Helmsgail,--
"I should prefer going home."
Helmsgail answered, handsomely,--
"The gentlemen must not be disappointed, on any account."
Naked as they were, they felt the cold. Phelem-ghe-Madone shook. Histeeth chattered.
Dr. Eleanor Sharpe, nephew of the Archbishop of York, cried out tothem,--
"Set to, boys; it will warm you."
Those friendly words thawed them.
They set to.
But neither one nor the other was angry. There were three ineffectualrounds. The Rev. Doctor Gumdraith, one of the forty Fellows of AllSouls' College, cried,--
"Spirit them up with gin."
But the two umpires and the two seconds adhered to the rule. Yet it wasexceedingly cold.
First blood was claimed.
They were again set face to face.
They looked at each other, approached, stretched their arms, touchedeach other's fists, and then drew back.
All at once, Helmsgail, the little man, sprang forward. The real fighthad begun.
Phelem-ghe-Madone was struck in the face, between the Ryes. His wholeface streamed with blood. The crowd cried,--
"Helmsgail has tapped his claret!"
There was applause. Phelem-ghe-Madone, turning his arms like the sailsof a windmill, struck out at random.
The Honourable Peregrine Bertie said, "Blinded;" but he was not blindyet.
Then Helmsgail heard on all sides these encouraging words,--
"Bung up his peepers!"
On the whole, the two champions were really well matched; and,notwithstanding the unfavourable weather, it was seen that the fightwould be a success.
The great giant, Phelem-ghe-Madone, had to bear the inconveniences ofhis advantages; he moved heavily. His arms were massive as clubs; buthis chest was a mass. His little opponent ran, struck, sprang, gnashedhis teeth; redoubling vigour by quickness, from knowledge of thescience.
On the one side was the primitive blow of the fist--savage,uncultivated, in a state of ignorance; on the other side, the civilizedblow of the fist. Helmsgail fought as much with his nerves as with hismuscles, and with as much intention as force. Phelem-ghe-Madone was akind of sluggish mauler--somewhat mauled himself, to begin with. It wasart against nature. It was cultivated ferocity against barbarism.
It was clear that the barbarian would be beaten, but not very quickly.Hence the interest.
A little man against a big one, and the chances are in favour of thelittle one. The cat has the best of it with a dog. Goliaths are alwaysvanquished by Davids.
A hail of exclamations followed the combatants.
"Bravo, Helmsgail! Good! Well done, Highlander! Now, Phelem!"
And the friends of Helmsgail repeated their benevolent exhortation,--
"Bung up his peepers!"
Helmsgail did better. Rapidly bending down and back again, with theundulation of a serpent, he struck Phelem-ghe-Madone in the sternum. TheColossus staggered.
"Foul blow!" cried Viscount Barnard.
Phelem-ghe-Madone sank down on the knee of his second, saying,--
"I am beginning to get warm."
Lord Desertum consulted the umpires, and said,--
"Five minutes before time is called."
Phelem-ghe-Madone was becoming weaker. Kilter wiped the blood from hisface and the sweat from his body with a flannel, and placed the neck ofa bottle to his mouth. They had come to the eleventh round. Phelem,besides the scar on his forehead, had his breast disfigured by blows,his belly swollen, and the fore part of the head scarified. Helmsgailwas untouched.
A kind of tumult arose amongst the gentlemen.
Lord Barnard repeated, "Foul blow."
"Bets void!" said the Laird of Lamyrbau.
"I claim my stake!" replied Sir Thomas Colpepper.
And the honourable member for the borough of Saint Ives, Sir BartholomewGracedieu, added, "Give me back my five hundred guineas, and I will go.Stop the fight."
Phelem arose, staggering like a drunken man, and said,--
"Let us go on fighting, on one condition--that I also shall have theright to give one foul blow."
They cried "Agreed!" from all parts of the ring. Helmsgail shrugged hisshoulders. Five minutes elapsed, and they set to again.
The fighting, which was agony to Phelem, was play to Helmsgail. Such arethe triumphs of science.
The little man found means of putting the big one into chancery--that isto say, Helmsgail suddenly took under his left arm, which was bent likea steel crescent, the huge head of Phelem-ghe-Madone, and held it thereunder his armpits, the neck bent and twisted, whilst Helmsgail's rightfist fell again and again like a hammer on a nail, only from below andstriking upwards, thus smashing his opponent's face at his ease. WhenPhelem, released at length, lifted his head, he had no longer a face.
That which had been a nose, eyes, and a mouth now looked only like ablack sponge, soaked in blood. He spat, and on the ground lay four ofhis teeth.
Then he fell. Kilter received him on his knee.
Helmsgail was hardly touched: he had some insignificant bruises and ascratch on his collar bone.
No one was cold now. They laid sixteen and a quarter to one onHelmsgail.
Harry Carleton cried out,--
"It is all over with Phelem-ghe-Madone. I will lay my peerage ofBella-aqua, and my title of Lord Bellew, against the Archbishop ofCanterbury's old wig, on Helmsgail."
"Give me your muzzle," said Kilter to Phelem-ghe-Madone. And stuffingthe bloody flannel into the bottle, he washed him all over with gin. Themouth reappeared, and he opened one eyelid. His temples seemedfractured.
"One round more, my friend," said Kilter; and he added, "for the honourof the low town."
The Welsh and the Irish understand each other, still Phelem made no signof having any power of understanding left.
Phelem arose, supported by Kilter. It was the twenty-fifth round. Fromthe way in which this Cyclops, for he had but one eye, placed himself inposition, it was evident that this was the last round, for no onedoubted his defeat. He placed his guard below his chin, with theawkwardness of a failing man.
Helmsgail, with a skin hardly sweating, cried out,--
"I'll back myself, a thousand to one."
Helmsgail, raising his arm, struck out; and, what was strange, bothfell. A ghastly chuckle was heard. It was Phelem-ghe-Madone's expressionof delight. While receiving the terrible blow given him by Helmsgail onthe skull, he had given him a foul blow on the navel.
Helmsgail, lying on his back, rattled in his throat.
The spectators looked at him as he lay on the ground, and said, "Paidback!" All clapped their hands, even those who had lost.Phelem-ghe-Madone had given foul blow for foul blow, and had onlyasserted his right.
They carried Helmsgail off on a hand-barrow. The opinion was that hewould not recover.
Lord Robartes exclaimed, "I win twelve hundred guineas."
Phelem-ghe-Madone was evidently maimed for life.
As she left, Josiana took the arm of Lord David, an act which wastolerated amongst people "engaged." She said to him,--
"It is very fine, but--"
"But what?"
"I thought it would have driven away my spleen. It has not."
&nb
sp; Lord David stopped, looked at Josiana, shut his mouth, and inflated hischeeks, whilst he nodded his head, which signified attention, and saidto the duchess,--
"For spleen there is but one remedy."
"What is it?"
"Gwynplaine."
The duchess asked,--
"And who is Gwynplaine?"
BOOK THE SECOND.
_GWYNPLAINE AND DEA._