The Mysteries of London, Vol. IV — page 46: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

| TIE MYSTERICS OF LONDON. Eliingham here, to drag me away from my experi- inzuts in order to catch a glimpse of a foreign Prince “Nay, doctor,” interrupted the Earl, smiling: “ it was precisely because this illustrious Prince is not a foreigner—but an Englishman by birth and a true Briton in his noble heart—that I thought you would be pleased to join .those who are desirous to behold a youthful-hero whose name occupies so memorable a page in history.” “Well, well,” said the physician, somewhat more mildly: “TI will have patience—and since you assure us that the object of all curiosity is indeed an English-_ man——” «Surely you can neither doubt the fact, nor be Ignorant of his great achievements, doctor?” ex- claimed the Earl. “Butif you wish to receive posi- five assurances as to his Royal Highness’s English parentage, Lady Hatfield will satisfy you.” “Yes—trely,” observed Georgiana. “ When we were staying in Italy, we not only became as it were eye-witnesses of the great Revolution which was con- ducted to so signally triumphant an issue by the young hero of whom you are speaking; but we subsequently had the honour of forming the acquaintance of his Royal Highness and that of his Princess, who is as amiable as she is beautiful.” “And now that the Prince has come to visit his native land once more,” said Charles Hatfield, his eyes flashing the fires of that enthusiasm which filled his soul, “the people‘assemble in crowds to do honour to their illustrious fellow-countryman. Oh! how deli- cious must his feelings be, when he reflects that as an obscure individual he once moved, unnoticed and un- known, amidst the mazes of this great city,—and that by his own brilliant merits he has raised himself to that pinnacle of rank and glory which renders him the admiration of the myriads now assembled to welcome his presence.” “Well spoken, my dear Charles,” exclaimed Lady Hatfield. “Look up and down the streect—it is liter- ally paved and walled with human faces! In the bal- conies on either side of this house—and opposite too— I recognise many ladies and peers of the highest rank. Yes—Charles, you are right: the feelings of the Prince must indeed be joyous when he reflects that this vast congregation of all classes has gathered to do honour to the fellow-countryman of whom they are so justly proud.” “History teems with examples of bold, bad, and ambitious men usurping power and decorating them- selves with lofty tities,” continued Charles, addressing himself partly to Lady Hatfield and partly to the beautiful Lady Frances Elingham: “ but in the present instance we have a young Englishman, of generous soul, enlightened opinions, and even rigorous rectitude of conduct, raising himself from nothing as it were andl acquiring the proudest titular distinctions. For what a glorious elevation wasit fiom plain Afr, Michard Markham to Ilis Royal Ifighness Fiel-Marshal the Prince of Montont, Captain-General of the Castel- sicalan Army, and Heir-Apparent to the Grand- Ducal Throne?” Scareely had Charles Hatfield enunciated these sounding titles in a tone which afforded full evidence of the enthusiasm that filled his soul as he thought of the splendid career of Richard Markham,* when far-off shouts of welcome and of joy suddenly reached the ears of the group on the balcony:—then those * See the Firsc Scrics of “‘ Tun MysTERIcs OF Lonpon ” 99 34) sounds came nearer and nearer, a3 the crowd toute up the cries from the direction where they commenceat — and never was Royalty saluted with a more cordsa{ greeting than that which now welcomed the hero ut Castelcicala. “ Long live the Prince of Montoni! God save Richard Markham!” were the words sent up by thousands and thousands of voices to the blue arch of heaven. In a short time a handsome carriage, drawn by four magnificent horses, came in sivht of the spectators in the balcony; and nothing could now execed the on- thusiasm of Charles Iatficld, as he once more beheld the object of his heroic idolatry—that fine youny Prince whom he had so often admired and envied when in the vast squate of the ducal palace of Mon- toni his Royal Highness reviewed the garrison of the Castelcicalan capital. ; The Prince, who was accompanied in his carriage by two aides-de-camp, wore the uniform of his high military rank: lis breast was covered with Orders; and in his hand he carried his plumed hat, which he had removed from his brow through respect to the generous British public from whom he now received so enthusiastic a welcome. His Royal Highness was in the prime and glory of his manhood. He was thirty years of age: his dark hair, which he wore rather long and which curled naturally, enclosed a forehead that appeared to be the seat of genius of the highest ,order;—and his fine black eyes were bright with the fire of intelligence and the animation of complete happiness. His magni- ficent uniform sct off his symmetrical and graceful figure to its fullest advantage; and he acknowledged with affability and modest condescension the demon- strations of joy and welcome which marked his pro- press, As his equipage passed opposite the mansion of the Earl of Ellingham, his eyes were attracted to the balcony ; and, recognising Lady Watfield and the en- thusiastic Charles, he bowed to them in a manner which testified the pleasure he experienced at again beholding those whose acquaintance he had formed in the ducal capital of Castelcicala. ; “Te is certainly a very fine young man,” said Sir John Lascelles. “Ihave seldom seen a countenance so expressive of vast mental resources;” then, after a short pause, the worthy physician added, “I would give much for a cast of his head.” , The Karl was about to make some reply, when his own name was suddenly shouted forth by a voice in the street; and that name, taken up by tongue after tongue, was echoed by thousands of individuals who were delighted to associate the stanch friend of the industrious classes of England with their enthusiastic welcomings of the royal champion of constitutional freedom in Italy. “Yong live the Marshal-Prince of Montoni! three cheers for the Earl of Ellingham!” were now the cries that made the very welkin ring ; ané these shouts were prolonged for some time, until the carriage of his Royal Highness turned into the court-yard of St. James’s palace, and the Earl on his side withdrew from the balcony. “You sigh, Charles?” said Lady Frances Elling- ham, in a low and somewhat anxious tone, and speak- ing apart to him whom she believed to be Lady Iat- field’s nephev. “Twas only thinking, dear Fanny,” answered the young gentleman, “that much and carnestly as I may strive to elevate myself, if will never be my gaod for- a (C(O) (C DOO <S LL (SO)