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Файл:The History of Henry Esmond II
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THE HISTORY OF HENRY ESMOND
poor crestfallen Boniface’s stairs, but into our coaches again.
The Prince and his Prime Minister in one, Esmond in the other, with only his dear mistress as a companion.
Castlewood galloped forwards on horseback to gather
the Prince’s friends and warn them of his coming. We travelled through the night. Esmond discoursing to his mistress of
the events of the last twenty-four hours; of Castlewood’s ride
and his; of the Prince’s generous behavior and their reconciliation. The night seemed short enough; and the starlit hours
passed away serenely in that fond company.
So we came along the road; the Bishop’s coach heading ours; and, with some delays in procuring horses, we
got to Hammersmith about four o’clock on Sunday morning, the fi rst of August, and half an hour after, it being then
bright day, we rode by my Lady Warwick’s house, and so
down the street of Kensington.
Early as the hour was, there was a bustle in the street and
many people moving to and fro. Round the gate leading to
the Palace, where the guard is, there was especially a great
crowd. And the coach ahead of us stopped, and the Bishop’s
man got down to know what the concourse meant?
There presently came from out of the gate – Horse Guards
with their trumpets, and a company of heralds with their tabards. The trumpets blew, and the herald-at-arms came forward and proclaimed GEORGE, by the Grace of God, of Great
Britain, France, and Ireland, King, Defender of the Faith. And
the people shouted God save the King!
Among the crowd shouting and waving their hats, I caught
sight of one sad face, which I had known all my life, and seen
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WILLIAM THACKERAY
under many disguises. It was no other than poor Mr. Holt’s,
who had slipped over to England to witness the triumph of
the good cause; and now beheld its enemies victorious, amidst
the acclamations of the English people. The poor fellow had
forgot to huzzah or to take his hat off, until his neighbors in
the crowd remarked his want of loyalty, and cursed him for
a Jesuit in disguise, when he ruefully uncovered and began to
cheer. Sure he was the most unlucky of men: he never played
a game but he lost it; or engaged in a conspiracy but ’twas certain to end in defeat. I saw him in Flanders after this, whence
he went to Rome to the head-quarters of his Order; and actually reappeared among us in America, very old, and busy, and
hopeful. I am not sure that he did not assume the hatchet and
moccasins there; and, attired in a blanket and war-paint, skulk
about a missionary amongst the Indians. He lies buried in our
neighboring province of Maryland now, with a cross over him,
and a mound of earth above him; under which that unquiet
spirit is for ever at peace.
With the sound of King George’s trumpets, all the vain
hopes of the weak and foolish young Pretender were blown
away; and with that music, too, I may say, the drama of my
own life was ended. That happiness, which hath subsequently
crowned it, cannot be written in words; ’tis of its nature sacred
and secret, and not to be spoken of, though the heart be ever so
full of thankfulness, save to Heaven and the One Ear alone – to
one fond being, the truest and tenderest and purest wife ever
man was blessed with. As I think of the immense happiness
which was in store for me, and of the depth and intensity of
that love which, for so many years, hath blessed me, I own to
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THE HISTORY OF HENRY ESMOND
a transport of wonder and gratitude for such a boon – nay,
am thankful to have been endowed with a heart capable of
feeling and knowing the immense beauty and value of the gift
which God hath bestowed upon me. Sure, love vincit omnia; is
immeasurably above all ambition, more precious than wealth,
more noble than name. He knows not life who knows not that:
he hath not felt the highest faculty of the soul who hath not
enjoyed it. In the name of my wife I write the completion of
hope, and the summit of happiness. To have such a love is
the one blessing, in comparison of which all earthly joy is of
no value; and to think of her, is to praise God.
It was at Bruxelles, whither we retreated after the failure of our plot – our Whig friends advising us to keep out of
the way – that the great joy of my life was bestowed upon
me, and that my dear mistress became my wife. We had been
so accustomed to an extreme intimacy and confi dence, and
had lived so long and tenderly together, that we might have
gone on to the end without thinking of a closer tie; but circumstances brought about that event which so prodigiously
multiplied my happiness and hers (for which I humbly thank
Heaven), although a calamity befell us, which, I blush to think,
hath occurred more than once in our house. I know not what
infatuation of ambition urged the beautiful and wayward
woman, whose name hath occupied so many of these pages,
and who was served by me with ten years of such constant
fi delity and passion; but ever after that day at Castlewood,
when we rescued her, she persisted in holding all her family as her enemies, and left us, and escaped to France, to what
a fate I disdain to tell. Nor was her son’s house a home for my
223
WILLIAM THACKERAY
dear mistress; my poor Frank was weak, as perhaps all our race
hath been, and led by women. Those around him were imperious, and in a terror of his mother’s infl uence over him, lest
he should recant, and deny the creed which he had adopted
by their persuasion. The difference of their religion separated
the son and the mother: my dearest mistress felt that she was
severed from her children and alone in the world – alone but
for one constant servant on whose fi delity, praised be Heaven, she could count. ’Twas after a scene of ignoble quarrel on
the part of Frank’s wife and mother (for the poor lad had been
made to marry the whole of that German family with whom
he had connected himself), that I found my mistress one day in
tears, and then besought her to confi de herself to the care and
devotion of one who, by God’s help, would never forsake her.
And then the tender matron, as beautiful in her Autumn, and
as pure as virgins in their spring, with blushes of love and
“eyes of meek surrender,” yielded to my respectful importunity, and consented to share my home. Let the last words I write
thank her, and bless her who hath blessed it.
By the kindness of Mr. Addison, all danger of prosecution,
and every obstacle against our return to England, was removed;
and my son Frank’s gallantry in Scotland made his peace with
the King’s government. But we two cared no longer to live in
England: and Frank formally and joyfully yielded over to us
the possession of that estate which we now occupy, far away
from Europe and its troubles, on the beautiful banks of the Potomac, where we have built a new Castlewood, and think with
grateful hearts of our old home. In our Transatlantic country
we have a season, the calmest and most delightful of the year,
224
THE HISTORY OF HENRY ESMOND
which we call the Indian summer: I often say the autumn of our
life resembles that happy and serene weather, and am thankful for its rest and its sweet sunshine. Heaven hath blessed us
with a child, which each parent loves for her resemblance to
the other. Our diamonds are turned into ploughs and axes for
our plantations; and into negroes, the happiest and merriest,
I think, in all this country: and the only jewel by which my
wife sets any store, and from which she hath never parted, is
that gold button she took from my arm on the day when she
visited me in prison, and which she wore ever after, as she told
me, on the tenderest heart in the world.
THE END
Литературно-художественное издание
Original
William Thackeray
The History of Henry Esmond II
Выпускающий редактор: И. Краснова
Компьютерная верстка: А. Дятлов
Художественное оформление: М. Соколова
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