Chapter 39. In Which General Potter Finally Secures The Services Of Mr. Tickler...

________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER XXXIX. IN WHICH GENERAL POTTER FINALLY SECURES THE SERVICES OF MR. TICKLER; AND, TOGETHER WITH PEKLEWORTH GLANMOREGAIN, THEY VISIT THE OPERA BEFORE SETTING OUT FOR WASHINGTON

GLANMOREGAIN went home thinking within himself that the general was, mentally, not quite up to what he had expected to find him. However, as generals were not always to be judged either by their epistles or conversation, so the rotund figure, he thought, might prove himself a dabster in war as well as politics. Further, he did not so much want a general who would have his own way in every thing, (for then there was danger of his holding what he got, under the rules of war,) but rather one whom he could mould and direct according to his desires. In fine, the man, he thought, might reflect the follies of a fool, and in the quality of wars he intended to prosecute, be exactly the general he wanted. The general, on the other hand, commenced setting himself down as the most fortunate military man of his day. Indeed, all the pedantry of his extravagant nature was excited to a degree that made him already begin to contemplate himself the hero of endless victories. He also cast a stray thought to old Battle, and fancied himself mounted upon him at the head of a victorious army, returning proudly home after having demolished several kingdoms and built up as many republics. He also lost no time in writing a second letter to his wife Polly, in which he set forth, with much flourish, that he had been so elevated in the opinion of the nation, that now he was offered the command of an army; which he had accepted, and was about to invade the kingdom of a foreign prince. And this letter he sealed and dispatched with all possible speed, hoping in his heart that it might reach his wife Polly in advance of the other.

When this was done, Mr. Tickler entered, and, after passing the usual compliments, proceeded, without further ceremony, to write a note to the landlord of the New York Hotel, returning thanks for his extreme generosity. But not a word was said about the three dollars. Mr. Tickler declared it would not do to lisp a word concerning it, as such would be in direct violation of the rules of etiquette common at this day. Having despatched the note, the general set about relating what had taken place between himself and Glanmoregain, and expressing himself delighted at the opportunity of so soon displaying his prowess in war. "Faith!" exclaimed Mr. Tickler, "every merchant will soon get him a general of his own. By the love of my mother! now it's just struck me: perhaps I can get a small advance on the strength of my future services? for I am in arrears with my landlady, whose look of melancholy so admonishes me every time I enter the house, that I have for more than a week taken advantage of the back door." The general shrugged his shoulders, declared the will good enough to render the desired relief, but that the means were wanting. To be out-spoken, he hinted to Mr. Tickler that, in the event of joining his service, it must be upon the condition that he depend on the fortunes of war for his reward. As to the hostess, he declared that he had not a doubt of her being a very excellent lady, as hostesses ought to be. Still, he gave it as his opinion, that it were much better political economy to leave the poor woman's house with a small bill unpaid, than eat himself into a large one. He further suggested that when the time came, he pack up and leave as quietly as possible, neither looking to the right nor the left, but getting out of the city by the most direct route; and when a respectful distance was reached, just to drop her a friendly line, saying he could not find it compatible with his conscience to longer eat her bread without paying for it, but as soon as fortune put the means in his way, he would lose no time in rubbing out the score.

"Love of my mother!" again ejaculated Tickler, "but your astetics are well enough. And I like the logic that closes the door on a small debt, rather than bury a friend with a big one. See that, now, master general!"

The preliminaries whereby the adroit critic was to follow the fortunes of his master, were now arranged, and the agreement signed. Tickler was to be faithful and obedient to his master, rendering him such services as the change of events might demand, being content with rations and clothing until the fortunes of war turned up something better.

When night was come, Glanmoregain again made his appearance, having previously extended an invitation, to escort the general to the opera. And as Tickler was about to perform so important a part in his project, he could do no less than invite him also. Vain of the importance he imagined himself possessing in the eyes of the public, the general was with some difficulty restrained from mounting his uniform, which he held necessary, lest he be confounded with some ordinary individual without claim to popular favor. Having persuaded him to forego this unnecessary display, the three sallied out together, and soon arrived at what is curiously called the Academy of Music, a building which several friends of the writer of this history, and who are gentlemen of acknowledged taste, declare to be unexcelled for splendor and beauty of architecture, not even excepting the La Scala, St. Carlo, Covent Garden, or even the Tacon. With all deference for the opinions of my accomplished friends, I must confess that the exterior of the building struck me as a huge, square mass of brick much disfigured with awkward looking windows and common place lintels. Indeed, it might easily have been mistaken for a charity hospital; and in the absence of a front, discovering the slightest architectural grandeur, bore no small resemblance to an absurdly constructed barracks.

Entering what in a church would be designated a vestibule, but which here served as a convenient place for loitering gentlemen who speculate in tickets, and the only visible furniture of which had been reformed down to a cheap chandelier, they passed on through a narrow baize door, flanked on one side by an oily ticket taker, and on the other by a fashionably dressed and bearded gentleman, whom the manager, in his praiseworthy efforts to please a capricious public, seemed to have placed there for the ostensible purpose of staring in the faces of ladies, and so circumscribing the width of the passage as to render it exceedingly difficult of ingress. They passed on into the "dress circle," where the seats were peculiarly adapted for making the back ache, and soon found that they had got behind a huge column, (of which there were many similar ones,) where no human eye could get a glimpse of the stage, though the unfortunate visitor paid ten dollars for his seat. As to the interior of the house, it forcibly reminded me of an immense gypsum quarry, with rudely excavated galleries, forming such a jumble and confusion of lines, that it was in vain you looked for an architectural beauty. Indeed, I venture to assert, that such a huge conglomerate of plaster and cheap gilt never before decorated one edifice, and that dedicated to high art. And if the uncouth images, with limbs of giants and heads of ordinary females, which met the eye at every turn, were to be accepted in proof of the high standard of taste at which we had arrived, then surely plaster and gilt ought to form the motto. Figures of ugly females, in plaster, bore up the second tier; groups of nymphs, in plaster, stared at you from the circle borders; grim visaged figures, in plaster, looked tauntingly at you from the proscenium; a troop of impolite figures, in plaster, beset you in flank and rear, and haunted you at every turn, as plaster figures had evidently haunted the imagination of the architect. In fine, every deficiency seemed compensated with an image in plaster, or, what was worse, one of those fashionable society men who sit in dumb show, listening to the melody, without enjoying the sense or knowing a word of what is being sung.

A great admirer of this plaster-perfect edifice was my friend, Miss Kate Suppletongue, who declared to me that though she had been twice to London and Paris, she had seen nothing equal to the Academy for grandeur. Tom Slenderstring, of the Brevoort House, too, said neither the St. Carlos nor the Covent Garden could compare with it for beauty of design. And Tom was a traveled man, whose verdict the whole avenue accepted in matters of taste. My disappointment then was only equaled by the height to which my expectations had been raised by these excellent authorities. But what grieved me most, for I am a man of sympathy, was the batteries which had evidently been committed on these females in plaster forming an advance guard to the d.c.s circle, and obstructing the view while affecting to support the upper boxes. I am told that the directors and stockholders are men of large humanity, whose only vanity lies in fancying themselves liberal patrons of art, which is pardonable in gentlemen much given to commerce. I beseech them, then, as they are christian gentlemen, to look to the distressed condition of these females, some of whom have lost their noses, others their fingers and toes, while still others have had curious antics performed with their bosoms, which would seem to afford no little diversion to certain females of easy virtue, who, together with the empty seats of the stockholders, are firm fixtures of the dress circle. My pity was indeed excited at beholding the large aperture made by some strange accident in the abdomen of one of these plaster females, and which aperture a thoughtless young gentleman made a convenient place for depositing his hat and cane, much to the amusement of those in the vicinity.

As the opera (which is familiarly known as that of Lucrezia Borgia) proceeded, the general, who was not accustomed to this style of singing, began to think it a mere tilt of voices between the singers. "Pray, what does it all mean, sir?" said he, turning to Mr. Tickler with much anxiety, "for I cannot understand a word of it; and it seems to me there are enough more in the same predicament, for those who have books I take it cannot find the places." Mr. Tickler, who affected to have the whole opera at his fingers' ends, began an explanation of the history and plot of the opera, which, however, only served to leave the matter more confused in the general's mind; and he declared he saw no good reason why they should scream their troubles in a language not one word of which nineteen-twentieths of the audience could understand.

"Faith of my father, sir," he continued, "but if the fleshy man would only stop his screaming, and set to sing 'Auld Lang Syne,' or something of that sort, it would be much more to my liking. To your fashionable folks with your fashionable singing, for all me: and let them who understand it pay for it; to be honest with you, sir, (and I see you are much given to this sort of singing,) I can make no more of it than that the fleshy man you call the tenor, and who you say is no scaly fellow, but a man with whom several damsels have become enamored, is outdoing the big man you call the basso, in telling his troubles to the audience, who, I take it, care not a whit about them, seeing that most of them are keeping up a loud conversation on matters concerning their neighbors, which is a proof of their resolution not to let the bawling fellows upon the stage have it all their own way. As to the moral of the representation, I have no doubt it is good, as you say; but I hold, that vice is better shut up in the closet than served out for the amusement of the young. But lest you say I am not a man of feeling, I can tell you I pity the tall woman you call the prima donna; and if she would accept a word of advice from me, I would tell her to so square her example for the future, that she may be prepared for Heaven when Death knocks at the door, since she is a lady of so much beauty that it would be a pity to see her leave this world without redemption. And as I see the big, fat chorus women are laughing in their skins at our ignorance of what they say, I would have them take heed lest they fall into the snare you describe as being set for the square shouldered damsels you call the atrato." "Contralto!" interrupted Mr. Tickler. "Well, have it contralto, then; the difference is only in a word or two, which matters nothing now-a-days. And as to the opera, I hold it best that we get home and attend to matters concerning our journey, for I see the two foreign gentlemen on the stage are for having a fight between themselves; and as it would not become me, as a military man, to stand by and see any unfair play, or indeed, to have anything to do with it, let us prove the strength of our understanding by getting quietly away." During this colloquy between the general and Mr. Tickler, Glanmoregain had been a quiet listener; but he was not a little amused at the singular innocence of the man he was about to entrust with the important office of overthrowing a kingdom. And although he would have remained to the end of the opera, which, so far as the principals were concerned, was really being performed in a very creditable manner, he accompanied the general to his quarters at the St. Nicholas, where they, having made such arrangements for the journey as will be recorded in the following chapter, parted for the night. _

Read next: Chapter 40. General Roger Potter And His Secretary Arrive In Washington...

Read previous: Chapter 38. General Potter Receives A Letter From His Wife Polly...

Table of content of Life and Adventures of Maj. Roger Sherman Potter


GO TO TOP OF SCREEN

Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book