JANUARY. 
25 
worshiping. He thought himself something more than human, I am 
sure, and received our most lowly obeisance as though he were upon a 
golden throne. His demeanour was calculated to give us the idea, 
that we had no claim, strictly speaking, to existence in any form, but 
that he tolerated us. He sent for us, kept us waiting for hours, and 
then either dismissed us without an interview, or gave us his orders, 
as though he gave out oakum to convicts. In my subordinate capacity, 
I was only honoured with two brief conversations, during which he was 
pleased to address me, for he never remembered names, as “ Mr. 
Cutts ” and “ Rowbottom,” appellations which belonged respectively 
to the stud-groom and to an under-keeper, but which were as unlike 
Oldacres, as, I dare say, he wished them to be. 
We servants were not the only ones who shivered in his icy pre¬ 
sence, and winked and capured with exuberant joy as soon as we were 
fairly out of it. Living at that time in one of the lodges, I frequently 
witnessed the arrival and departure of certain county families, who 
were annually distinguished by an invitation to the Castle. To open 
the gate for these favoured guests, and to look upon their expression 
of complete despair, was like being hall-porter at a dentist’s. They 
might have been blue-bottles, who had just set foot within the meshes 
of a spider’s net, or rabbits, helplessly mesmerised by a weasel, and 
drawing nearer to their doom. One footman, I remember, was wont 
to weep in the rumble, and to assume for my edification such an 
aspect of pretended woe, pointing the while with his thumb to the un¬ 
conscious tenantry of the chariot below, that at last I dared not go out 
to meet him, and he was compelled to dismount, and clear the way for 
himself. 
But there was an entire change of performance, I can tell you, when 
these visitors came forth on their journey homeward, as distinct an 
alteration and improvement of countenance, as may be observed in the 
features of that gentleman, who appears from time to time in the pic¬ 
torial advertisement, as now enduring the agonies of toothache, and now 
“Ha! ha! cured in an instant!” The tragedy, with its tyrant and 
dungeon-chains, was over; and, as the lamps blazed out once more, 
the orchestra, which had been executing Dead March and dirge under¬ 
neath the darkened stage, emerged to play “ Garryowen.” They who 
had come to us so silently and sadly, laughed and sang as they drove 
down the Park. They could not have been in a happier frame of 
mini, if they had been poachers coming out of jail in the shooting 
season. Hurra! they were going home! home to have beer at dinner, 
and to turn to the fire at dessert! Home, to astonish the Browns, to 
fill the mouths of the Walkers with the waters of envy, and to awe the 
Bumbles with fancy statements about their “ delighful visit at the 
Castle.” Well, I could bear truthful witness that the latter part of the 
proceeding had been delightful enough. As Robert Hall said to the 
pert young preacher, who asked what he thought of his sermon, 
“ There was one very admirable passage, the passage from the pulpit 
to the vestry,” so it might be affirmed with confidence that these guests 
had been especially happy in the last act and deed of—departure. 
Now this Iron Duke, you will, be surprised to hear, had actually 
