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Page 22
A contrast to this pleasing picture is afforded by some character
sketches at the little watering-place of Buxton, which our kindly
observer visited the same year.
"At the hotel where we put up [he writes] we had a most singular
and whimsical assemblage of beings. I don't know whether you were
ever at an English watering-place, but if you have not been, you
have missed the best opportunity of studying English oddities, both
moral and physical. I no longer wonder at the English being such
excellent caricaturists, they have such an inexhaustible number and
variety of subjects to study from. The only care should be not to
follow fact too closely, for I'll swear I have met with characters
and figures that would be condemned as extravagant, if faithfully
delineated by pen or pencil. At a watering-place like Buxton, where
people really resort for health, you see the great tendency of the
English to run into excrescences and bloat out into grotesque
deformities. As to noses, I say nothing of them, though we had
every variety: some snubbed and turned up, with distended nostrils,
like a dormer window on the roof of a house; others convex and
twisted like a buck-handled knife; and others magnificently
efflorescent, like a full-blown cauliflower. But as to the persons
that were attached to these noses, fancy any distortion,
protuberance, and fungous embellishment that can be produced in the
human form by high and gross feeding, by the bloating operations of
malt liquors, and by the rheumy influence of a damp, foggy,
vaporous climate. One old fellow was an exception to this, for
instead of acquiring that expansion and sponginess to which old
people are prone in this country, from the long course of internal
and external soakage they experience, he had grown dry and stiff in
the process of years. The skin of his face had so shrunk away that
he could not close eyes or mouth--the latter, therefore, stood on a
perpetual ghastly grin, and the former on an incessant stare. He
had but one serviceable joint in his body, which was at the bottom
of the backbone, and that creaked and grated whenever he bent. He
could not raise his feet from the ground, but skated along the
drawing-room carpet whenever he wished to ring the bell. The only
sign of moisture in his whole body was a pellucid drop that I
occasionally noticed on the end of a long, dry nose. He used
generally to shuffle about in company with a little fellow that was
fat on one side and lean on the other. That is to say, he was
warped on one side as if he had been scorched before the fire; he
had a wry neck, which made his head lean on one shoulder; his hair
was smugly powdered, and he had a round, smirking, smiling, apple
face, with a bloom on it like that of a frost-bitten leaf in
autumn. We had an old, fat general by the name of Trotter, who had,
I suspect, been promoted to his high rank to get him out of the way
of more able and active officers, being an instance that a man may
occasionally rise in the world through absolute lack of merit. I
could not help watching the movements of this redoubtable old Hero,
who, I'll warrant, has been the champion and safeguard of half the
garrison towns in England, and fancying to myself how Bonaparte
would have delighted in having such toast-and-butter generals to
deal with. This old cad is doubtless a sample of those generals
that flourished in the old military school, when armies would
manoeuvre and watch each other for months; now and then have a
desperate skirmish, and, after marching and countermarching about
the 'Low Countries' through a glorious campaign, retire on the
first pinch of cold weather into snug winter quarters in some fat
Flemish town, and eat and drink and fiddle through the winter.
Boney must have sadly disconcerted the comfortable system of these
old warriors by the harrowing, restless, cut-and-slash mode of
warfare that he introduced. He has put an end to all the old _carte
and tierce_ system in which the cavaliers of the old school fought
so decorously, as it were with a small sword in one hand and a
chapeau bras in the other. During his career there has been a sad
laying on the shelf of old generals who could not keep up with the
hurry, the fierceness and dashing of the new system; and among the
number I presume has been my worthy house-mate, old Trotter. The
old gentleman, in spite of his warlike title, had a most pacific
appearance. He was large and fat, with a broad, hazy, muffin face,
a sleepy eye, and a full double chin. He had a deep ravine from
each corner of his mouth, not occasioned by any irascible
contraction of the muscles, but apparently the deep-worn channels
of two rivulets of gravy that oozed out from the huge mouthfuls
that he masticated. But I forbear to dwell on the odd beings that
were congregated together in one hotel. I have been thus prolix
about the old general because you desired me in one of your letters
to give you ample details whenever I happened to be in company with
the 'great and glorious,' and old Trotter is more deserving of the
epithet than any of the personages I have lately encountered."
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