Henry Esmond; The English Humourists; The Four Georges

ge of Ealing, near to London, where for some time had dwelt an old French refugee, by name Mr. Pastoureau, one of those whom the persecution of

ar to London, too, amongst looms and spinning-wheels, and a great de

mes dearer to him than that of Mrs. Pastoureau, Bon Papa Pastoureau's new wife, who came to live with him after aunt went away. And there, at Spittlefields, as it used

on Papa was always talking of the Scarlet Woman. He had a little room where he always used to preach and sing hymns out of his great old nose. Little Harry did not like th

her, which need not be set down here, [pg 030] for the sake of old Mr. Pastoureau, who was still kind sometimes. The unhappiness of those days is long forgiven, though they cast a shade of melancholy over the child's youth, which will accompany him, no do

ever could bear to strike a girl; and the other was a boy, whom he could easily have beat, but he always cried out, when Mrs. Pastoureau came sailing to the rescue with arms like a flail. She only washed Harry's face the day he went away; nor ever so much as once boxed his ears. She whimpered rather when the gentleman in black came for the boy; and old Mr. Pastoureau, as he gave the child his blessing, sco

led the little Frenchman by other boys on Ealing Green. He soon learnt to speak English perfectly, and to forget some of his French: children forget easily. Some earlier and fainter recollections the child ha

ed Master Harry Esmond-that my Lord Viscount Castlewood was his parrain-that he was to live at the great house of Castlewood, in the province of --shire, where he would see madame the visco

nobleman, a grand languid nobleman in a great cap and flowered morning-g

t after eyeing the child, and the gen

t for a holiday the boy and the valet went. Har

r than the booth at Ealing Fair-and on the next happy day they took water on the river, and Harry saw London Bridge, with the houses and booksellers' shop

eading the baggage-horses. And all along the road the Frenchman told little Harry stories of brigands, which made the child's hair stand on end, and terrified him; so that at the great gloomy inn on the road whe

what his old grandfather had taught him; what languages he knew; whether he could read and write, and sing, and so forth. And Mr. Holt found that Harry could read and write, and possessed the two languages of French and English very well; and when he asked Harry about singing, the lad broke out w

e, do you hear, little manikin?" says

he loved pretty songs, and would try and learn anything the gentleman would tell him." That day he so pleased the gentlemen by his talk, that they had h

they lay again at an inn. "We are a little lord here; we are a little lord

o Castlewood, Monsieu

journey, which Harry Esmond hath often since ridden in a dozen hours. For the last two of the days, Harry rode with the priest, who was so kind to him, that the child ha

my lord viscount, who bowed to them [pg 033] all languidly; and there was one portly person that wore a cassock and a broad-leafed hat, who bowed lower than any one-and with this one both my l

that was before them, with many grey towers, and vanes on them, and windows flaming in the sunshine; and a great army of rooks, wh

ght that the servants looked at him curiously, and smiled to one another-and he recalled what Blaise had said to him when they were in London, and Harry had spoken about his godpapa, when the Frenchman said, "Parbleu! one see

ashed, and the father's own dress arranged, Harry's guide took him once more to the door by which my lord had entered the hall, and up a stair, and through an ante-room to my lady's drawing-room-an apartment than which Harry thought he had never seen anything more grand-no, not in the Tower of London which he had just visited. Indeed the c

her with eyes almost as great as her own, as he had stared at the player-woman who acted the wicked tragedy-queen, when the players came down to Ealing Fair. She sat in a great chair by the fire-corner; in her lap was a spaniel-dog that barked furiously; on a little table by her was her ladyship's snuff-box and her sugar-plum box. She wore a dress of black velvet, and a petticoat of

ladyship in the late lord's time, and, having her soul in that business, took natura

Holt said, bowing lowly, with a sort of comical humility. "Make a pretty bow to my lady, monsi

ir," says Madam Tusher, giving a hard

cted. He could not keep his great eyes off from her. S

please you, little p

y hard to please if it di

illy Maria," said

attached, madam-and I'd d

polite grin. "The ivy says so in the picture, an

sir!" cries

hand, child," and the oak held out a branch to little Harry Esmond, who took and dutifully

you foolish Tusher," and tapping her with her great fan, Tusher ran forward to seize her hand and kiss it. Fur

the mode then was) and performed his obeisance, she said, "Page Esmond, my groom of the chamber will inform you what your duties are, when you wait upon my lord and me; and goo

ry, a word or look from Father Holt made her calm: indeed he had a vast power of subjecting those who came near him; and, among the rest, his new pu

o his mistress, and asked many questions in his artless childish way. "Who is that othe

rson's wife of Castlewood. She has a

o kiss my lady's hand?

her waiting-woman, before she was married, in the old lord's time. She married Docto

woman, will you? I saw her laug

ing a sign whereof Esmond did not then understand the meaning, across his breast and forehe

d of your Church?-Dr. Rabb

said, "Ye

On which the father again laughed, and said he would understand this too better soon, and talked of oth

where the village of Castlewood stood and stands, with the church in the midst, the parsonage hard by it, the inn with the blacksmith's forge beside it, and the sign of the "Three Castles" on the elm. The London road stretched away towards the rising sun, and to the west were swelli

eries. A dozen of living-rooms looking to the north, and communicating with the little chapel that faced eastwards and the buildings stretching from that to the main gate, and with the hall (which looked to the west) into the court now dismantled. This court had been th

he garden-terrace, where, however, the flowers grew again, which the boots of the Roundheads had trodden in their assault, and which was restored without much cost, and only a little care, by both ladies

the Catholic gentry, of whom there were a pretty many in the country and neighbouring city; and who rode not seldom to Castlewood to partake of the hospitalities there. In the second year of their residence the company seemed especially to increase. My lord and my lady were seldom without visitors, in whose society it was curious to contrast the difference of behaviour between Father Holt, the di

y without paying their devoirs to my lord and lady-to the lady and lord rather-his lordship being little more than a cipher in the house, and entirely under his domineering partner. A little fowling, a little hunting, a great deal of sleep, and a long time at cards and table, carried through one day after another with his l

ng for the day, not only when he should enter into the one Church and receive his first communion, but when he might join that wonderful brotherhood, which was present throughout all the world, and which numbered the wisest, the bravest, the highest born, the most eloquent of men among its members. Father Holt bade him keep his views secret, and to hide them as a great treasure which would escape him if it was revealed; and proud of this confidence and secret vested in him, the lad became fondly attached [pg 039] to the master who initiated him into a mystery so wonderful and awful. And when little Tom Tusher, his neighbour, came from school for his holiday, and said how he, too, was to be bred up for an English priest, and would get what he called an exhibition from his school, and then a college scholarship and fellowship, and then a good living-it tasked young Harry Esmond's powers of reticence not to say to his young companion, "Church! priesthood! fat liv