Four Famous American Writers: Washington Irving, Edgar Allan Poe, James Russell Lowell, Bayard Tayl | Page 4

wish for any further intercourse with
drunken Indians.

CHAPTER IV
IRVING GOES TO EUROPE
Irving's health was by no means good, and his friends were so alarmed
that when he was twenty-one they planned a trip to Europe for him. As
he stepped on board the boat that was to take him, the captain eyed him
from head to foot and remarked to himself, "There's a chap who will go
overboard before we get across."
To the surprise of the captain and other passengers, however, he did not
die, but got much better.
He disembarked at Bordeaux, in France, and joining a merry company,
traveled with them in a kind of stagecoach called a diligence.
Among the company were a jolly little Pennsylvania doctor, and a
French officer going home to see his mother. In one of the little French
towns where they stopped they had an amusing experience, which
Irving has described in his journal.
"In one of our strolls in the town of Tonneins," says he, "we entered a

house where a number of girls were quilting. They gave me a needle
and set me to work. My bad French seemed to give them much
amusement. They asked me several questions; as I could not
understand them I made them any answer that came into my head,
which caused a great deal of laughter amongst them.
"At last the little doctor told them that I was an English prisoner, whom
the young French officer (who was with us) had in custody. Their
merriment immediately gave place to pity.
"'Ah, the poor fellow!' said one to another, 'he is merry, however, in all
his trouble,'
"'And what will they do with him?' said a young woman to the traveler.
"'Oh, nothing of consequence,' replied he; 'perhaps shoot him or cut off
his head.'
"The honest souls seemed quite distressed for me, and when I
mentioned that I was thirsty, a bottle of wine was immediately placed
before me, nor could I prevail on them to take a recompense. In short, I
departed, loaded with their good wishes and benedictions, and I
suppose I furnished a theme of conversation throughout the village."
Years afterward, when Mr. Irving was minister to Spain, he went some
miles out of his way to visit this town. Says he:
"As my carriage rattled through the quiet streets of Tonneins, and the
postilion smacked his whip with the French love of racket, I looked out
for the house where, forty years before, I had seen the quilting party. I
believe I recognized the house; and I saw two or three old women, who
might once have formed part of the merry group of girls; but I doubt
whether they recognized in the stout, elderly gentleman, who thus
rattled in his carriage through their streets, the pale young English
prisoner of forty years since."
* * * * *

In this manner he wandered about for nearly two years. He visited
Genoa, the birthplace of Columbus, and climbed Mount Vesuvius. He
dined with Madame de Stael, the famous author of "Corinne." At Rome
he met Washington Allston, the great American painter, then a young
man not much older than he. They became good friends, and Allston
afterward illustrated some of Irving's works. Irving was tempted to
remain in Rome and become a painter like Allston. But he finally
decided that he did not have any special talent for art, and went home to
finish his study of law.

CHAPTER V
"SALMAGUNDI"
Washington Irving returned to New York, quite restored to health; and
there he soon became a social hero. Trips to Europe were so uncommon
in those days that to have made one was a distinction in itself. Besides,
Irving was now a polished young gentleman, very fond of amusement;
and having become a lawyer with little to do, he made up his mind to
enjoy himself.
He and his brother Peter, with a number of young men about the same
age, called themselves "the nine worthies," or the "lads of Kilkenny,"
and many a gay time they had together,--rather too gay, some people
thought. One of their favorite resorts was an old family mansion, which
had descended from a deceased uncle to one of the nine lads. It was on
the banks of the Passaic river, about a mile from Newark, New Jersey.
It was full of antique furniture, and the walls were adorned with old
family portraits. The place was in charge of an old man and his wife
and a negro boy, who were the sole occupants, except when the nine
would sally forth from New York and enliven its solitudes with their
madcap pranks and orgies.
"'Who would have thought," said Irving at the age of sixty-three to
another of those nine