The History of Henry Esmond | Page 6

which is
much more interesting than that of their affectionate old mother,
RACHEL ESMOND WARRINGTON.
CASTLEWOOD, VIRGINIA,
November 3, 1778.

CONTENTS.
BOOK I.
THE EARLY YOUTH OF HENRY ESMOND, UP TO THE TIME OF
HIS LEAVING TRINITY COLLEGE, IN CAMBRIDGE.

CHAPTER
I. An Account of the Family of Esmond of Castlewood Hall
II. Relates how Francis, Fourth Viscount, arrives at Castlewood
III. Whither, in the time of Thomas, Third Viscount, I had preceded
him as Page to Isabella
IV. I am placed under a Popish Priest and bred to that Religion.--
Viscountess Castlewood
V. My Superiors are engaged in Plots for the Restoration of King
James II
VI. The Issue of the Plots.--The Death of Thomas, Third Viscount of
Castlewood; and the Imprisonment of his Viscountess
VII. I am left at Castlewood an Orphan, and find most kind Protectors
there
VIII. After Good Fortune comes Evil
IX. I have the Small-pox, and prepare to leave Castlewood

X. I go to Cambridge, and do but little Good there
XI. I come home for a Holiday to Castlewood, and find a Skeleton in
the House
XII. My Lord Mohun comes among us for no Good
XIII. My Lord leaves us and his Evil behind him
XIV. We ride after him to London
BOOK II.
CONTAINS MR. ESMOND'S MILITARY LIFE, AND OTHER
MATTERS APPERTAINING TO THE ESMOND FAMILY.
I. I am in Prison, and Visited, but not Consoled there
II. I come to the End of my Captivity, but not of my Trouble
III. I take the Queen's Pay in Quin's Regiment
IV. Recapitulations
V. I go on the Vigo Bay Expedition, taste Salt Water and smell Powder
VI. The 29th December
VII. I am made Welcome at Walcote
VIII. Family Talk
IX. I make the Campaign of 1704
X. An Old Story about a Fool and a Woman
XI. The famous Mr. Joseph Addison
XII. I get a Company in the Campaign of 1706

XIII. I meet an Old Acquaintance in Flanders, and find my Mother's
Grave and my own Cradle there
XIV. The Campaign of 1707, 1708
XV. General Webb wins the Battle of Wynendael
BOOK III.
CONTAINING THE END OF MR. ESMOND'S ADVENTURES IN
ENGLAND.
I. I come to an End of my Battles and Bruises
II. I go Home, and harp on the Old String
III. A Paper out of the "Spectator"
IV. Beatrix's New Suitor
V. Mohun appears for the Last Time in this History
VI. Poor Beatrix
VII. I visit Castlewood once more
VIII. I travel to France and bring Home a Portrait of Rigaud
IX. The Original of the Portrait comes to England
X. We entertain a very Distinguished Guest at Kensington
XI. Our Guest quits us as not being Hospitable enough
XII. A great Scheme, and who Balked it
XIII. August 1st, 1714

THE HISTORY OF HENRY ESMOND.
BOOK I
THE EARLY YOUTH OF HENRY ESMOND, UP TO THE TIME OF
HIS LEAVING TRINITY COLLEGE, IN CAMBRIDGE.
The actors in the old tragedies, as we read, piped their iambics to a tune,
speaking from under a mask, and wearing stilts and a great head-dress.
'Twas thought the dignity of the Tragic Muse required these
appurtenances, and that she was not to move except to a measure and
cadence. So Queen Medea slew her children to a slow music: and King
Agamemnon perished in a dying fall (to use Mr. Dryden's words): the
Chorus standing by in a set attitude, and rhythmically and decorously
bewailing the fates of those great crowned persons. The Muse of
History hath encumbered herself with ceremony as well as her Sister of
the Theatre. She too wears the mask and the cothurnus, and speaks to
measure. She too, in our age, busies herself with the affairs only of
kings; waiting on them obsequiously and stately, as if she were but a
mistress of court ceremonies, and had nothing to do with the registering
of the affairs of the common people. I have seen in his very old age and
decrepitude the old French King Lewis the Fourteenth, the type and
model of kinghood--who never moved but to measure, who lived and
died according to the laws of his Court-marshal, persisting in enacting
through life the part of Hero; and, divested of poetry, this was but a
little wrinkled old man, pock-marked, and with a great periwig and red
heels to make him look tall--a hero for a book if you like, or for a brass
statue or a painted ceiling, a god in a Roman shape, but what more than
a man for Madame Maintenon, or the barber who shaved him, or
Monsieur Fagon, his surgeon? I wonder shall History ever pull off her
periwig and cease to be court-ridden? Shall we see something of France
and England besides Versailles and Windsor?