Memorials and Other Papers — Volume 1De Quincey, Thomas
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Memorials and Other Papers — Volume 1
De Quincey, Thomas
English essays
the entire Laxton party in one week struck their Northamptonshire tents,
dived, as it were, into momentary darkness, by a loitering journey of
stages, short and few, out of consideration for the invalid, and rose
again in the gloomy streets of Manchester.
Gloomy they were at that time--mud below, smoke above--for no torch of
improvement had yet explored the ancient habitations of this Lancashire
capital. Elsewhere I have expressed the inexhaustible admiration which
I cherish for the _moral_ qualities, the unrivalled energy and
perseverance, of that native Lancashire population, as yet not much
alloyed with Celtic adulteration. My feelings towards them are the same
as were eloquently and impressively avowed by the late eminent Dr. Cooke
Taylor, after an _official_ inquiry into their situation. But in
those days the Manchester people realized the aspiration of the noble
Scythian; not the place it was that glorified _them_, but they that
glorified the place. No great city (which technically it then was
not, but simply a town or large village) could present so repulsive an
exterior as the Manchester of that day. Lodgings of _any_ sort could
with difficulty be obtained, and at last only by breaking up the party.
The poor suffering lady, with her two friends, Lady Carbery and my
mother, hired one house, Lord and Lady Massey another, and two others
were occupied by attendants--all the servants, except one lady's-maid,
being every night separated by a quarter of a mile from their
mistresses. To me, however, all these discomforts were scarcely apparent
in the prodigious revolution for the better which was now impressed upon
the tenor of my daily life. I lived in the house of the head-master;
but every night I had leave to adjourn for four or five hours to the
drawing-room of Lady Carbery. Her anxiety about Mrs. Schreiber would
not allow of her going abroad into society, unless upon the rarest
occasions. And I, on my part, was too happy in her conversation--so
bold, so novel, and so earnest--voluntarily to have missed any one hour
of it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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