Dark Rosaleen by Marjorie Bowen Page A

for anything… I lodge with my friend, Paine; we breakfast, dine, and sup together. The more I see of him the more I like and respect him. I cannot express how kind he is to me; there is simplicity of manner, a goodness of heart, a strength of mind in him that I never knew a man before possess. I pass my time very pleasantly, and read, walk, and go quietly to the play. I have not been to see any one, nor shall not. The present scene occupies my thoughts a great deal.
    ‘ Give my love to Ogilvie and the girls. I think he would be much entertained and interested if he were here. I can compare it to nothing but Rome in its days of conquest: the energy of the people is beyond belief. There is no news the Morning Chronicle does not tell you, so I won’t repeat it.
    ‘ I go a great deal to the Assembly; they improve much in speech.
    ‘ God bless you, dearest mother, believe me,
    ‘ Your affectionate son,
    ‘EDWARD,’
    ‘ P.S. — Let me know if I can do anything for you here. Direct — Le Citoyen Edouard Fitzgerald, Hotel de White, au Passage des Petits, pres du Palais Royal. ’
    A little later, after the taking of Mons and the victory of Jemappes:
    ‘ I am delighted with the manner in which the French feel their success; no foolish boasting or arrogance at it; but imputing all to the goodness and greatness of their cause, and seeming to rejoice more on account of its effect on Europe in general than for their own individual glory. This indeed, is the turn every idea here seems to take; all their pamphlets, all their treaties, all their songs extol their achievements but as the effect of the principle they are contending for, and rejoice at their success as the triumph of humanity.
    ‘ All the defeats of their enemies they impute to their disgust for the cause for which they fight, At the coffee houses and playhouse every man calls the other “camarade,” “frère,” and with a stranger they begin, “Ah, nous sommes tous frères, tous hommes, nos victoires sont pour vous, pour tout le monde”; the same sentiments are always received with peals of applause. In short, all the good enthusiastic French sentiments seem to come out, while to all appearances one would say they had lost all their bad. The town is quiet, and to judge from the theatres and the public walks, very full. The great difference seems in the few carriages, the dress, which is very plain.
    ‘ Tell Ogilvie I shall leave this next week and settle my majority, if I am not scratched out of the army… I dine to-day with Madame de Sillery.
    ‘ God bless you, dearest mother. I am obliged to leave you. Love to the girls. I long to see you and shall be with you at the beginning of the week after next. I cannot be long from you.
    ‘ Yours,
    ‘E.F.’
    ‘ P.S. — In the midst of my patriotism and projects you are always the first thing in my heart and ever must be my dear, dear mother. ’
    The last lines were penned in a mood of remorse, for it was no longer the adored mother who was really foremost in the thoughts of Edward Fitzgerald, but Pamela. She was his companion in those quiet walks, those pleasant readings, those modest visits to the playhouse which took all his time. That he should have met such a woman at such a moment sent the young man to the heights of ecstasy.
    Hand in hand with Pamela he seemed, indeed, to face the dawn of the Millennium.

 
     
     
    CHAPTER 10
     
    But though Pamela was his constant, his immediate preoccupation, she could not altogether divorce him from the society of his countrymen, nor did Tom Paine, though he good-humouredly mocked the young lord and English officer as a mere adventurer who would not be willing to sacrifice the slightest of his natural advantages for any cause, fail to inculcate him with all his own extreme principles.
    As Fitzgerald entered White’s one cold afternoon, Mr. Reynolds, who seemed waiting for him, presented to him a young man for whom he felt an instant liking and respect.
    This was