the uncommercial traveller-第25章

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CHAPTER　XII　…　DULLBOROUGH　TOWN







It　lately　happened　that　I　found　myself　rambling　about　the　scenes

among　which　my　earliest　days　were　passed；　scenes　from　which　I

departed　when　I　was　a　child；　and　which　I　did　not　revisit　until　I

was　a　man。　　This　is　no　uncommon　chance；　but　one　that　befalls　some

of　us　any　day；　perhaps　it　may　not　be　quite　uninteresting　to　compare

notes　with　the　reader　respecting　an　experience　so　familiar　and　a

journey　so　uncommercial。



I　call　my　boyhood's　home　（and　I　feel　like　a　Tenor　in　an　English

Opera　when　I　mention　it）　Dullborough。　　Most　of　us　come　from

Dullborough　who　come　from　a　country　town。



As　I　left　Dullborough　in　the　days　when　there　were　no　railroads　in

the　land；　I　left　it　in　a　stage…coach。　　Through　all　the　years　that

have　since　passed；　have　I　ever　lost　the　smell　of　the　damp　straw　in

which　I　was　packed　…　like　game　…　and　forwarded；　carriage　paid；　to

the　Cross　Keys；　Wood…street；　Cheapside；　London？　　There　was　no　other

inside　passenger；　and　I　consumed　my　sandwiches　in　solitude　and

dreariness；　and　it　rained　hard　all　the　way；　and　I　thought　life

sloppier　than　I　had　expected　to　find　it。



With　this　tender　remembrance　upon　me；　I　was　cavalierly　shunted　back

into　Dullborough　the　other　day；　by　train。　　My　ticket　had　been

previously　collected；　like　my　taxes；　and　my　shining　new　portmanteau

had　had　a　great　plaster　stuck　upon　it；　and　I　had　been　defied　by　Act

of　Parliament　to　offer　an　objection　to　anything　that　was　done　to

it；　or　me；　under　a　penalty　of　not　less　than　forty　shillings　or　more

than　five　pounds；　compoundable　for　a　term　of　imprisonment。　　When　I

had　sent　my　disfigured　property　on　to　the　hotel；　I　began　to　look

about　me；　and　the　first　discovery　I　made；　was；　that　the　Station　had

swallowed　up　the　playing…field。



It　was　gone。　　The　two　beautiful　hawthorn…trees；　the　hedge；　the

turf；　and　all　those　buttercups　and　daisies；　had　given　place　to　the

stoniest　of　jolting　roads：　　while；　beyond　the　Station；　an　ugly　dark

monster　of　a　tunnel　kept　its　jaws　open；　as　if　it　had　swallowed　them

and　were　ravenous　for　more　destruction。　　The　coach　that　had　carried

me　away；　was　melodiously　called　Timpson's　Blue…Eyed　Maid；　and

belonged　to　Timpson；　at　the　coach…office　up…street；　the　locomotive

engine　that　had　brought　me　back；　was　called　severely　No。　97；　and

belonged　to　S。E。R。；　and　was　spitting　ashes　and　hot　water　over　the

blighted　ground。



When　I　had　been　let　out　at　the　platform…door；　like　a　prisoner　whom

his　turnkey　grudgingly　released；　I　looked　in　again　over　the　low

wall；　at　the　scene　of　departed　glories。　　Here；　in　the　haymaking

time；　had　I　been　delivered　from　the　dungeons　of　Seringapatam；　an

immense　pile　（of　haycock）；　by　my　own　countrymen；　the　victorious

British　（boy　next　door　and　his　two　cousins）；　and　had　been

recognised　with　ecstasy　by　my　affianced　one　（Miss　Green）；　who　had

come　all　the　way　from　England　（second　house　in　the　terrace）　to

ransom　me；　and　marry　me。　　Here；　had　I　first　heard　in　confidence；

from　one　whose　father　was　greatly　connected；　being　under

Government；　of　the　existence　of　a　terrible　banditti；　called　'The

Radicals；'　whose　principles　were；　that　the　Prince　Regent　wore

stays；　and　that　nobody　had　a　right　to　any　salary；　and　that　the　army

and　navy　ought　to　be　put　down　…　horrors　at　which　I　trembled　in　my

bed；　after　supplicating　that　the　Radicals　might　be　speedily　taken

and　hanged。　　Here；　too；　had　we；　the　small　boys　of　Boles's；　had　that

cricket　match　against　the　small　boys　of　Coles's；　when　Boles　and

Coles　had　actually　met　upon　the　ground；　and　when；　instead　of

instantly　hitting　out　at　one　another　with　the　utmost　fury；　as　we

had　all　hoped　and　expected；　those　sneaks　had　said　respectively；　'I

hope　Mrs。　Boles　is　well；'　and　'I　hope　Mrs。　Coles　and　the　baby　are

doing　charmingly。'　　Could　it　be　that；　after　all　this；　and　much

more；　the　Playing…field　was　a　Station；　and　No。　97　expectorated

boiling　water　and　redhot　cinders　on　it；　and　the　whole　belonged　by

Act　of　Parliament　to　S。E。R。？



As　it　could　be；　and　was；　I　left　the　place　with　a　heavy　heart　for　a

walk　all　over　the　town。　　And　first　of　Timpson's　up…street。　　When　I

departed　from　Dullborough　in　the　strawy　arms　of　Timpson's　Blue…Eyed

Maid；　Timpson's　was　a　moderate…sized　coach…office　（in　fact；　a

little　coach…office）；　with　an　oval　transparency　in　the　window；

which　looked　beautiful　by　night；　representing　one　of　Timpson's

coaches　in　the　act　of　passing　a　milestone　on　the　London　road　with

great　velocity；　completely　full　inside　and　out；　and　all　the

passengers　dressed　in　the　first　style　of　fashion；　and　enjoying

themselves　tremendously。　　I　found　no　such　place　as　Timpson's　now　…

no　such　bricks　and　rafters；　not　to　mention　the　name　…　no　such

edifice　on　the　teeming　earth。　　Pickford　had　come　and　knocked

Timpson's　down。　　Pickford　had　not　only　knocked　Timpson's　down；　but

had　knocked　two　or　three　houses　down　on　each　side　of　Timpson's；　and

then　had　knocked　the　whole　into　one　great　establishment　with　a　pair

of　big　gates；　in　and　out　of　which；　his　（Pickford's）　waggons　are；　in

these　days；　always　rattling；　with　their　drivers　sitting　up　so　high；

that　they　look　in　at　the　second…floor　windows　of　the　old…fashioned

houses　in　the　High…street　as　they　shake　the　town。　　I　have　not　the

honour　of　Pickford's　acquaintance；　but　I　felt　that　he　had　done　me

an　injury；　not　to　say　committed　an　act　of　boyslaughter；　in　running

over　my　Childhood　in　this　rough　manner；　and　if　ever　I　meet　Pickford

driving　one　of　his　own　monsters；　and　smoking　a　pipe　the　while

（which　is　the　custom　of　his　men）；　he　shall　know　by　the　expression

of　my　eye；　if　it　catches　his；　that　there　is　something　wrong　between

us。



Moreover；　I　felt　that　Pickford　had　no　right　to　come　rushing　into

Dullborough　and　deprive　the　town　of　a　public　picture。　　He　is　not

Napoleon　Bonaparte。　　When　he　took　down　the　transparent　stage…coach；

he　ought　to　have　given　the　town　a　transparent　van。　　With　a　gloomy

conviction　that　Pickford　is　wholly　utilitarian　and　unimaginative；　I

proceeded　on　my　way。



It　is　a　mercy　I　have　not　a　red　and　green　lamp　and　a　night…bell　at

my　door；　for　in　my　very　young　days　I　was　taken　to　so　many　lyings…in

that　I　wonder　I　escaped　becoming　a　professional　martyr　to　them　in

after…life。　　I　suppose　I　had　a　very　sympathetic　nurse；　with　a　large

circle　of　married　acquaintance。　　However　that　was；　as　I　continued

my　walk　through　Dullborough；　I　found　many　houses　to　be　solely

associated　in　my　mind　with　this　particular　interest。　　At　one　little

greengrocer's　shop；　down　certain　steps　from　the　street；　I　remember

to　have　waited　on　a　lady　who　had　had　four　children　（I　am　afraid　to

write　five；　though　I　fully　believe　it　was　five）　at　a　birth。　　This

meritorious　woman　held　quite　a　reception　in　her　room　on　the　morning

when　I　was　introduced　there；　and　the　sight　of　the　house　brought

vividly　to　my　mind　how　the　four　（five）　deceased　young　people　lay；

side　by　side；　on　a　clean　cloth　on　a　chest　of　drawers；　reminding　me

by　a　homely　association；　which　I　suspect　their　complexion　to　have

assisted；　of　pigs'　feet　as　they　are　usually　displayed　at　a　neat

tripe…shop。　　Hot　candle　was　handed　round　on　the　occasion；　and　I

further　remembered　as　I　stood　contemplating　the　greengrocer's；　that

a　subscription　was　entered　into　among　the　company；　which　became

extremely　alarming　to　my　consciousness　of　having　pocket…money　on　my

person。　　This　fact　being　known　to　my　conductress；　whoever　she　was；

I　was　earnestly　exhorted　to　contribute；　but　resolutely　declined：

therein　disgusting　the　company；　who　gave　me　to　understand　that　I

must　dismiss　all　expectations　of　going　to　Heaven。



How　does　it　happen　that　when　all　else　is　change　wherever　one　goes；

there　yet　seem；　in　every　place；　to　be　some　few　people　who　never

alter？　　As　the　sight　of　the　greengrocer's　house　recalled　these

trivial　incidents　of　long　ago；　the　identical　greengrocer　appeared

on　the　steps；　with　his　hands　in　his　pockets；　and　leaning　his

shoulder　against　the　door…post；　as　my　childish　eyes　had　seen　him

many　a　time；　indeed；　there　was　his　old　mark　on　the　door…post　yet；

as　if　his　shadow　had　become　a　fixture　there。　　It　was　he　himself；　he

might　formerly　have　been　an　old…looking　young　man；　or　he　might　now

be　a　young…looking　old　man；　but　there　he　was。　　In　walking　along　the

street；　I　had　as　yet　looked　in　vain　for　a　familiar　face；　or　even　a

transmitted　face；　here　was　the　very　greengrocer　who　had　been

weighing　and　handling　baskets　on　the　morning　of　the　reception。　　As

he　brought　with　him　a　dawning　remembrance　that　he　had　had　no

proprietary　interest　in　those　babies；　I　crossed　the　road；　and

accosted　him　on　the　subject。　　He　was　not　in　the　least　excited　or

gratified；　or　in　any　way　roused；　by　the　accuracy　of　my

recollection；　but　said；　Yes；　summut　out　of　the　common　…　he　didn't

remember　how　many　it　was　（as　if　half…a…dozen　babes　either　way　made

no　difference）　…　had　happened　to　a　Mrs。　What's…her…name；　as　once

lodged　there　…　but　he　didn't　call　it　to　mind；　particular。　　Nettled

by　this　phlegmatic　conduct；　I　informed　him　that　I　had　left　the　town

when　I　was　a　child。　　He　slowly　returned；　quite　unsoftened；　and　not

without　a　sarcastic　kind　of　complacency；　HAD　I？　　Ah！　　And　did　I

find　it　had　got　on　tolerably　well　without　me？　　Such　is　the

difference　（I　thought；　when　I　had　left　him　a　few　hundred　yards

behind；　and　was　by　so　much　in　a　better　temper）　between　going　away

from　a　place　and　remaining　in　it。　　I　had　no　right；　I　reflected；　to

be　angry　with　the　greengrocer　for　his　want　of　interest；　I　was

nothing　to　him：　　whereas　he　was　the　town；　the　cathedral；　the

bridge；　the　river；　my　childhood；　and　a　large　slice　of　my　life；　to

me。



Of　course　the　town　had　shrunk　fearfully；　since　I　was　a　child　there。

I　had　entertained　the　impression　that　the　High…street　was　at　least

as　wide　as　Regent…street；　London；　or　the　Italian　Boulevard　at

Paris。　　I　found　it　little　better　than　a　lane。　　There　was　a　public

clock　in　it；　which　I　had　supposed　to　be　the　finest　clock　in　the

world：　　whereas　it　now　turned　out　to　be　as　inexpressive；　moon…

faced；　and　weak　a　clock　as　ever　I　saw。　　It　belonged　to　a　Town　Hall；

where　I　had　seen　an　Indian　（who　I　now　suppose　wasn't　an　Indian）

swallow　a　sword　（which　I　now　suppose　he　didn't）。　　The　edifice　had

appeared　to　me　in　those　days　so　glorious　a　structure；　that　I　had

set　it　up　in　my　mind　as　the　model　on　which　the　Genie　of　the　Lamp

built　the　palace　for　Aladdin。　　A　mean　little　brick　heap；　like　a

demented　chapel；　with　a　few　yawning　persons　in　leather　gaiters；　and

in　the　last　extremity　for　something　to　do；　lounging　at　the　door

with　their　hands　in　their　pockets；　and　calling　themselves　a　Corn

Exchange！



The　Theatre　was　in　existence；　I　found；　on　asking　the　fishmonger；

who　had　a　compact　show　of　stock　in　his　window；　consisting　of　a　sole

and　a　quart　of　shrimps　…　and　I　resolved　to　comfort　my　mind　by　going

to　look　at　it。　　Richard　the　Third；　in　a　very　uncomfortable　cloak；

had　first　appeared　to　me　there；　a