Tobias Entwistle to Mrs. Maria Entwistle
Dear Mama,
Tomorrow we are to catch the earliest post to Dover. From there we sail to Calais and France, and a hundred places I haven't the paper to name! I know you have felt trepidation at the idea of my going on such a long journey. But do content yourself, mama, that I shall be in the greatest comfort, with the most amiable companions, travelling in the most civilized and courtly lands in the world excepting only our England.
I find it, still, hard to credit that I should be invited on such a journey, and with gentlemen of such quality. Mr. Hamilton, Mr. de Mowbray, and Mr. Gibbon each descend from the oldest and most distinguished families. They have all three moved in the highest circles of society from birth, and are imbued with manners and fine airs I can never, perhaps, hope to emulate in full. Rest assured, though, that I will exert my utmost to learn to comport myself as a gentlemen from them. As George, Mr. Hamilton, and I have grown to be especially warm friends since Cambridge, I feel I have license with him to be more explicit in my quest for the secrets of refined behaviour. He has told me himself that if ever in doubt I must always apply to him for instruction in these matters, for which I am truly thankful. Such a kind young man he is, mama! And one of great sensibility. He composes poetry of excellent worth, which as yet he has had little courage to publish or shew to any but his intimate friends. Of the other two I am always in awe, though I hope to win their friendship as well. I have read that on the continent, and the Grand Tour particularly, the natural barriers of society are relaxed to such a degree that even men of the nobility may socialize freely with those below them, for want of other English companions.
Our aims in this expedition are manifold: in the first place, the observation of laws and customs in other lands gives a young gentleman wisdom and comparisons with which to view the condition of his own country, and, thereby, improve it. Second, our ultimate destination of Rome, with its ruined glories of Art and Architecture, will provide the fulfillment of our whole education. For we will not only have read and imagined these great men of genius and the civilization they built, but touched and seen their great remaining works with our own meager senses. I am sure nothing can truly prepare one to behold the Fora of Trajan and Augustus, the Villa of Hadrian, the magisterial Colosseum itself! And it is not only ancient wonders we go to admire, but also many works of beauty and refinement from the Italian Renaissance. I am not so deep in study of the fine arts as my friend George, which befits him as a poet, but I hope to broaden my understanding with exposure to so many sculptures and paintings of the Italian masters.
Up to now I have spoken of the arts, but nothing of the sciences. This may seem strange to you, owing to my devotion to the varied disciplines of Natural Philosophy while at Cambridge. Rest assured, however, that I intend to devote as much attention as possible to scientific and technical inquiry on the continent, in which many nations not only equal our modern discoveries but surpass them. It is for this reason more than any that I have devoted such time to my languages, so I may communicate smoothly with whomever I encounter, regardless of country or field of study.
Those, in brief, are my principle objects in this grand tour. As for the others, I cannot speak yet to the motives of Mr. de Mowbray or Mr. Gibbon, beyond generalities, but George has, on occasion, shared with me a more personal expectation of his own than I would otherwise have supposed. Now I must entreat your utmost secrecy in what I am about to reveal, and to relate it to none outside your absolute confidence. I reveal it only from the pressing need to tell someone, and the reality that our sphere of acquaintance intersects so little with that of George's family that I am positive I will do no harm. George means to elope, he tells me, once he reaches the continent, with a girl long familiar to his relations, and to him. Her name is Susan, and though I don't know her family name George has told me she's the daughter of a longtime friend of his father Sir James Hamilton. They grew up on neighboring estates in –shire, the native county of his mother. Although they divided time between there, London, and the Hamiltons' family seat near Edinburgh, George and Susan saw enough of each other as children to grow very close. There was even a tacit understanding, by the time George went away to school, that on George's reaching majority they would be married.
This might well have transpired, but for Sir James's election to Parliament some years ago. Since his entry to the House of Commons, George's father has come to be seen as a leader among the country squires, who are generally independent of either the Tory or Whig combinations. As a result of this, the squires almost never serve in cabinet, but their influence is nevertheless considerable because they make up a majority of members in the Commons. This concerns George because his father, while pursuing an honorable career as a legislator, has even greater plans for his son. George, as you may know, is a second son, so he stands to inherit none of his father's lands and must make his own way in the world. Rather than send him into the Army or the Church, then, Sir James has plans to assist George to his own election to Parliament in due course. And for a brilliant career in politics, it is an excellent asset to have an accomplished wife from a great family, who can host soirees and charm friends and opponents alike. Susan, though from a good family herself, does not seem to measure up to Sir James's designs. He has thus forbidden the very mention of a connection he once spoke of in the most favorable terms. George's heart, which has been constant since he and Susan were young, is not so easily swayed. As to the particulars of when and where the elopement is to take place, I have no intelligence. And I have little further I can write about the matter at this time, but that it gives me no small trepidation and I hope the question resolves itself for the best, for all parties.
I'm certainly aware that, as far back as memory recalls, I am the first of the Entwistles to venture out of Britain. This makes me not only conscious of my good conduct, but full of honest pride. I owe everything to Father, whose perseverance trading on the Stock Exchange has long since made our fortune. And it pains me that he has never had the liberty to sail beyond his own country and view the queer customs and conditions of foreign folk. But he has ever been an earnest provider for our lot, an example of thrift and fortitude I would hold up to any other. So in this spirit I hope to shew him the great Continent of Europe through my own eyes, and illuminate its wonders to you and everyone else.
With that I will bid you adieu, and do give my love to Emmy, Peter, Percival, Judith, and every other one dear to us, especially Father.
Your devoted son,
Tobias
YOU ARE READING
1816: the Grandest Tour
Historical FictionThe Regency era, just after Napoleon's fall: four cheerful but clueless young men set out from England on the Grand Tour of Europe. Join George, Robert, Hugh, and Tobias along with a host of memorable characters as they travel through dozens of coun...